When Wang Guizhi died, her bedsores were so rotten that her bones could be seen.
When the nurse poured sour porridge on her face and scolded her as "an old thing that no one wants," she suddenly remembered that on the day of her second son's wedding, her second daughter-in-law also pointed at her and scolded her as "a rural woman." In her previous life, she endured it until she broke her leg and was thrown into a nursing home, endured it until her grandchildren gathered around her knees but no one remembered her birthday, and finally died after being eaten by maggots.
When she opened her eyes again, the red candles dazzled her eyes - it was the wedding that had made her miserable all her life.
Seeing her husband hanging back and smoking and his children pretending to be deaf and dumb, Wang Guizhi grabbed the wine bottle and smashed it on the ground: "Honorable Zhao, this marriage must be divorced!"
When she slept in a bridge cave with her daughter with 56 yuan and 80 cents in her pocket, she vowed to live only for herself in this life. On the day she set up the pickle stall, her neighbor scolded her for "abandoning her husband and son." She handed over the freshly pickled garlic and said, "Try it? It's more reliable than the men in your family."
But who would have thought that a jar of ancestral pickles would lead to old news about grandma. The woman who was expelled from the family actually left her a group of blood relatives. Her ex-husband took the demolition money and begged for remarriage. When the shadow of the nursing home always came at midnight, Wang Guizhi held the pickle recipe left by her aunt and smiled:
"Want to remarry? First try the steamed buns I ate in the nursing home."
In this life, she does not serve anyone, only her own life.
