Momo's Gradual Change

C88. Song Zhi's Shock.

Chapter 88: Song Zhi's Shock

She was absolutely daring enough!

If she had been a man, if she had the strength, she would have done it years ago. But she was just a petite woman, lacking the power to act. So, every time Song Zhi crossed the line, all she could do was fume with anger—never truly able to protect her grandmother.

Even though, in her heart, she had torn Song Zhi into pieces a thousand times, in reality, she had always been powerless.

But now, things were different.

She had her brother with her!

And this brother was strong—more than enough to deal with someone like Song Zhi. After years of swallowing her anger, she finally had a chance to unleash it. Why wouldn’t she dare now?

Zhai Muyang stepped forward without a word, moving within arm's reach of Song Zhi. His steady gaze said everything that needed to be said.

Song Zhi was no fool. He knew how to bend when life demanded it. Outside the house, he played the humble fool when necessary. But within the Song household, he did as he pleased—coming and going at his leisure, commanding without opposition. No one had ever dared confront him like this before.

His mind stumbled, his anger clouding his thoughts.

“This is my house! And you, an outsider, think you can order me out? Song Yimo, do you really believe I won’t throw you out on the streets and make you an orphan?!”

Before his words fully settled, Grandma Song grabbed the nearest teacup from the table and hurled it at him. Song Zhi wasn’t quick enough—hot tea spilled all over him.

“An orphan?” Grandma Song trembled as she stood, her frail body unsteady. Song Yimo rushed to her side, supporting her with one arm and soothing her with gentle strokes along her back.

“Song Zhi, you say you’ll make Yimo an orphan? What, by angering me to death?”

Song Zhi sneered, unfazed. “I’m the only son of the Song family. I run things here. If I really set my mind to it, I could throw both of you out. Then this house will be mine.”

Slap!

“Husband!” Yu Mei, Song Zhi’s wife, stepped forward instinctively but hesitated.

Song Zhi touched his face in disbelief. Had he really just been slapped by his mother he had always dismissed as a powerless old woman?

“And in front of your children—are these the lessons you want to teach them?”

For the briefest moment, panic flickered across Song Zhi’s face. He turned to look at his children, only to find surprise in their eyes—tinged with detachment, as if none of this concerned them.

This wasn’t right.

Song Zhi prided himself on his street smarts, his ability to read people and situations. But now, everything felt off. His twelve-year-old daughter, Liangliang, and his eight-year-old son, Zixin, were at an age where they should instinctively sympathize with the underdog.

Especially Liangliang. As a young girl, shouldn’t her heart lean naturally toward the vulnerable?

Even if she had sided with him, her father, there should have been some trace of warmth. Yet now, her expression was distant, her concern absent.

And Zixin?

He seemed to be enjoying the spectacle, like a curious onlooker savoring a show. No sign of respect or care—just cold indifference.