Chapter 84: Shameless Old Lady
Sheng Wanyan pulled another orange from her canvas bag, peeled it, and sat on the wooden stool beside Grandpa Sheng’s bed, eating it slice by slice.
The occupants of the adjacent beds stared at her intently. In this day and age, fresh fruit was a luxury that only the truly well-off could afford.
The elderly woman in the next bed watched the juicy orange slices disappear, swallowing hard as her eyes gleamed with greed. She had never tasted such premium fruit in her entire life.
She took note of Wanyan’s clothes—pristine, stylish, and completely free of patches. Her family was clearly very wealthy. The old woman’s mind immediately began to spin; she had several unmarried grandsons back home. If she could extract some family details, she might just be able to play matchmaker. Marrying one of her boys to a rich city girl meant all those premium resources would eventually belong to her clan.
“Hey, little girl,” the old woman called out, leaning over. “Do you have any more of those oranges?”
Wanyan didn’t look up.
“I’ve been stuck in this bed for a whole day,” the woman whined. “My mouth tastes like bitter medicine, and my entire body aches. Be a good girl and give an old lady a slice to taste, won’t you?”
Wanyan popped another piece into her mouth and replied flatly, “There are none left.”
“Aren’t you holding half of one right there in your hand?” the old woman grumbled, her voice rising. “A young thing like you shouldn’t stuff herself anyway. Give it to me. Let a poor old woman sweeten her mouth.”
Sheng Wanyan completely ignored her. To demand food from a stranger the very first time they met, purely by leveraging her advanced age, was a level of shamelessness Wanyan refused to indulge.
“My word! Young people nowadays have absolutely no compassion!” the old woman loudly lamented to the room. “An old, suffering patient asks for a single bite, and she won’t even lend a hand!”
Lying on the bed nearest to the door, the gaunt, middle-aged man furrowed his brow in disgust. This old terror was acting up again. Every time her son and daughter-in-law arrived to visit, bringing whatever meager treats they could scrape together, she would ruthlessly demand more. If anyone denied her, she would instantly scream that society lacked sympathy for the elderly.
Sheng Wanyan offered a cold sneer. Then, right before the old woman’s wide eyes, she shoved the remaining half of the orange into her mouth and swallowed it in one go.
Seeing that the girl had zero intention of sharing, the old woman’s face contorted. She immediately clutched her stomach and let out a theatrical wail.
“Ouch! Oh, my stomach! It burns!”
“How can a young creature be so profoundly wicked? She wants to watch a poor old woman die right before her eyes!”
“Everyone, come quickly! Come look at this heartless girl! She’s watching an old woman die and won’t lift a finger!”
Her screeching echoed down the corridor, prompting several visitors and nurses passing by the open door to halt and peer inside to see what the commotion was about.
“The youth of this generation only care about stuffing their own faces!” the old woman wept, rocking back and forth. “They wouldn’t even spare a single slice of fruit to comfort the elderly! Oh, my stomach is tearing apart, and she just sits there! Ouch—”
A few spectators at the door began pointing at Wanyan, whispering among themselves. Sensing the rising drama, Sheng Wanyan calmly stood up and walked toward the center of the room.
“Look at that! The wicked girl is trying to flee!” the old woman yelled.
Wanyan stopped, her gaze dropping onto the woman. Her face was completely expressionless, her voice cutting through the ward like ice.
“Old lady, since your stomachache is clearly so severe, I’ll step out and summon the chief surgeon for you immediately.”
“I am a factory clerk, not a medical professional. How could I possibly help alleviate your internal distress?”
“We’ll let the doctor run a comprehensive diagnostic check to see exactly what is rotting inside your stomach. If there is a disease, we can initiate emergency treatment right away.”
The old woman’s mock wails choked in her throat, her eyes glaring with sudden venom. See a doctor? If the medical staff marched in here, her entire performance would be instantly exposed. She had simply wanted to bully the girl into surrendering a high-grade orange so she could finally taste what the luxury fruit was like.
“Oh, there’s no need to waste the doctor’s time,” she muttered, quickly shifting her posture. “Just go back into your bag and give me a fresh orange. It’s a proven remedy to whet the appetite.”
Wanyan stepped closer and extended an open, empty palm straight toward the woman’s face.
The old woman blinked in confusion. “What is the meaning of this?”
“Hand over the cash,” Wanyan demanded calmly. “How am I supposed to procure fresh oranges for you without funds?”
“What cash? What absolute rubbish are you spouting!” the old woman barked. “You just consumed a whole fruit by yourself. Why can’t you just give me a slice?”
Wanyan’s gaze remained freezing. Did this ancient terror truly believe that because she was young, she was a soft target to be easily extorted?
“Old lady, let’s call it what it is: you simply want to gorge yourself on premium goods without spending a single copper coin. Aren’t you just a common freeloading thief?”
The onlookers clustered at the threshold instantly grasped the reality of the situation. A collective murmur of disapproval rippled through the corridor; this old woman was merely weaponizing her age to extort a young girl.
“You… you insolent child!” the old woman shrieked, her face turning purple with rage. “You have zero respect for your elders! You wouldn’t even honor a senior citizen with a bite of fruit!”
“If you are so desperately greedy for fruit, go march down to the market and purchase it with your own capital,” Wanyan countered smoothly. “Or better yet, demand your own children buy it for you. You aren’t my relative, so why on earth should I fund your appetite?”
The absolute logic of Wanyan’s rebuff left the old woman gasping for air. Realizing her words had no effect, she threw herself from the mattress, collapsed flat onto the concrete floor, and launched into a full-blown, hysterical tantrum.
“You… how can a human heart be so cruel?!”
“Heavens above! The youth of today have completely lost their conscience!”
The old woman thrashed about on the floor, kicking her legs wildly and slamming her palms against the dirty concrete.
“Oh? Old lady, I thought your stomach was in agonizing pain?” Wanyan asked, tilting her head.
Hearing the sharp reminder, the old woman’s hands instantly froze mid-air before she awkwardly clutched her midsection again. This wretched girl had deliberately exposed her a second time.
“Good grief, that old crone is truly shameless. She was entirely fabricating that medical crisis,” a spectator at the door scoffed out loud.
“If her mouth is so dry, she should force her own sons to buy her treats. Why is she harassing a neighboring family for charity?”
“She can clearly afford the intake fees for a low-occupancy ward, yet she plays the pauper over a piece of fruit? How pathetic.”
Hearing the crowd’s shifting mockery, the old woman scrambled up from the floor, her finger pointing aggressively at the onlookers as she unleashed a torrent of abuse.
“Mind your own damn business!”
“Shut your mouths, or I’ll march over and slap every one of you across the face!”
In truth, the old woman hadn’t paid a single cent for this premium ward placement. A few days prior, a young worker had accidentally clipped her with his bicycle. Sensing an opportunity, she had pinned herself to the asphalt, refusing to move until she was transported to the municipal hospital for an emergency examination.
The attending physician had explicitly confirmed there was no internal damage—merely a superficial scratch on her leg that would close within forty-eight hours. Yet, she had thrown a massive, screaming tantrum in the lobby, demanding to be hospitalized for a long-term neurological observation, and insisted on occupying the quietest, most expensive room available.
The poor cyclist was utterly paralyzed by her blackmail. Terrified of facing a union investigation or losing his factory post, he had succumbed to her demands, signing the financial guarantees to clear her intake.
She had been comfortably lounging in the ward for a full week now. Every single morning, she forced the unfortunate young worker to deliver fresh cuts of pork and expensive nutritional tonics directly to her bed. Furthermore, whenever she noted a neighboring patient possessed high-grade provisions, she would immediately deploy her age to extort a portion. If they complied, she ate for free; if they refused, she simply put on a performance of pitiful suffering or launched into a violent tantrum.
The deceptive strategy had yielded incredible results throughout her life. The hospital provided free shelter and hot water, saving her family massive amounts of grain rations back home, while she got to indulge in fresh meat every day on someone else’s dime. She had zero intention of surrendering such a lucrative setup.
But she hadn’t anticipated running into a brick wall like Sheng Wanyan today. This girl’s heart seemed to be forged of solid iron. Even after a massive public scene, she hadn’t managed to loosen the girl’s grip on a single orange slice. The wretched creature didn’t seem to care about her public reputation at all. What an absolute waste of space.
Wanyan had no intention of coddling her. They shared no blood, and they certainly weren’t allies; why should she allow a parasite to siphon her resources?
Having successfully driven the spectators away with her cursing, the old woman slumped back onto her mattress, her eyes boring into Wanyan with venomous hatred.
Sheng Wanyan casually reached back into her canvas bag, extracted a second orange, and calmly began peeling it. She consumed it slice by slice, her movements deliberate, graceful, and entirely unbothered.
Watching her enjoy a second fruit right before her face, the old woman vibrated with such intense fury she looked as though she might suffer a stroke. This wretched girl was doing it on purpose—explicitly flaunting the luxury fruit to mock her!
Lying by the door, the middle-aged man buried his face in his pillow, his shoulders shaking with silent laughter. This Sheng girl was magnificent. Her method of psychological warfare was absolutely lethal.
A short while later, Mother Sheng arrived at the ward, balancing a heavy multi-tiered lunch tin. For Wanyan’s mid-day meal, she had prepared a beautiful portion of crisp fried eggs and thick, savory slices of cured bacon. The moment the rich aroma of seasoned fat wafted across the room, the old lady next door stared so intensely her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.
This family is completely unhinged! she fumed inwardly. To squander such a magnificent, luxurious meal on a daughter? They must be completely soft in the head.
“How is your grandfather doing?” Mother Sheng asked, setting the tins down.
“The physician just finalized his rounds; his vitals are perfectly stable,” Wanyan replied, opening her lunch. “He should be completely throwing off the effects of the anesthesia and waking up by mid-afternoon.”
