Qiu Yingying is reborn and bound to a learning system.

The Spring Festival came in a hurry and was crowded, much like Xu Qin's feelings at this moment, trapped in Song Yan's uncle's old house.

Previously, Song Yan and Xu Qin lived in the large apartment that the Meng family had bought for Xu Qin. However, after Xu Qin ruined Meng Yanchen and Qiu Yingying's relationship, the Meng family stopped providing her with living expenses, and Meng Yanchen and Fu Wenying ignored her completely. Only Meng Huaijin would occasionally check on her and give her a little money. Xu Qin had to rely more on her own salary to survive, but she was very happy. She was so happy with Song Yan.

This was her first time following Song Yan back to what he called his "roots," a two-bedroom apartment crammed into an alley in the old town, with yellowed walls and old furniture, which was always packed full of relatives during the Lunar New Year.

The air was always filled with the smells of cooking oil, tobacco, the clatter of mahjong tiles, and the screams of children chasing and playing. All of these combined to create a lively atmosphere that Xu Qin had never experienced before.

Before leaving, Song Yan said casually, "I'll just go back for a few days. My uncle and aunt both love me, so don't worry, no one will make things difficult for you."

But the moment Xu Qin stepped through the door, she had no idea that she had fallen into a completely unfamiliar and helpless quagmire.

As soon as Xu Qin changed her shoes, her aunt poked her head out of the kitchen, her hands still covered in flour. She glanced at Xu Qin from head to toe, her smile warm yet undeniably assertive: "Oh my, Qinqin, you're finally here! Quick, put your bag down, don't just stand there, come help us. There are so many people today, we need to prepare a huge feast for New Year's Eve!"

Before Xu Qin could react, a faded floral apron was shoved into her hands.

Song Yan watched from the side, not only not stopping her, but also patting her waist in a greasy and matter-of-fact tone: "Go on, baby. My aunt is old, you're young, it's only right that you do more work. After we're done, I'll take good care of you."

The tone was as if he were instructing the servants at home, yet it carried a frivolous, thuggish air that made Xu Qin's heart tighten.

She grew up in the Meng family and never had to go into the kitchen or work around the stove during the Lunar New Year. There was a housekeeper to take care of everything. She only needed to sit quietly, wear clean clothes, eat delicious meals, and enjoy the comfort of being taken care of.

But now, clutching the rough apron in her hand, looking at the cramped and dimly lit kitchen, at the pile of vegetables, ribs, fish, and a bunch of unwashed dishes on the floor, a strange sense of grievance quietly crept up on her.

But she was too embarrassed to refuse.

She didn't want Song Yan to lose face, nor did she want to be labeled "spoiled and ignorant" by her relatives as soon as she entered the house. So she gritted her teeth, silently tied on her apron, and walked into the kitchen, a place where even turning around was difficult.

Song Yan didn't say a word of concern. He went straight to the sofa in the middle of the living room, put his legs up, picked up the cigarette his uncle handed him, lit it, took a puff, and slowly blew smoke rings. He was immediately surrounded by his cousins, who played cards, boasted, and talked about embarrassing things from their childhood, laughing without restraint.

From that day on, Xu Qin's Spring Festival became an endless period of work.

Before dawn, her aunt would knock on the door, waking her up to make breakfast. The task of preparing breakfast for the entire family of over ten people—cooking porridge, frying eggs, steaming buns, and making cold dishes—fell entirely on her shoulders. The water was icy cold, and the old faucet splashed everywhere when turned on, quickly turning her hands red and numb, making it difficult for her to even hold the knife.

Song Yan, on the other hand, is always asleep.

When you call him to get up and help, he'll just grunt vaguely, turn over and go back to sleep. Only when breakfast is all served will he slowly come out, pick up his chopsticks and start eating. After finishing, he wipes his mouth and goes back to the sofa to act like a king.

"Men are supposed to rest during the New Year, how can we do housework?" Auntie said matter-of-factly while eating sunflower seeds. "Qinqin, please bear with us. Song Yan has been spoiled by us since he was a child and never does any housework at home."

Xu Qin didn't say anything, but silently cleared the dishes and chopsticks off the table and took them into the kitchen to wash.

The rushing water masked the growing disappointment in her heart.

There was even more work to do during the day. She had to do a thorough cleaning, wipe windows, mop floors, tidy up clutter, and wash a huge pile of clothes. The old house didn't have a washing machine, so large items of clothing had to be hand-washed. She would squat on the balcony, scrubbing until her palms were red and blistered, and her back ached so much that she couldn't straighten up.

In the living room, Song Yan and his relatives were playing cards with great enthusiasm. When they won, they laughed heartily; when they lost, they swore. Occasionally, he would call out to the kitchen, "Qinqin, get me a glass of water!" or "Qinqin, bring me some oranges!"

His tone was so natural, as if he were ordering a servant around.

A relative, unable to bear it any longer, jokingly said, "Song Yan, your wife is so capable, aren't you going to lend a hand?"

Song Yan, a cigarette dangling from his lips, pointed in Xu Qin's direction, a smug and greasy look on his face: "My wife dotes on me, she can't bear to see me do any work. Besides, a diligent woman makes a prosperous household, right, Qinqin?"

He spoke frankly, as if it were all perfectly natural.

Xu Qin stood at the door, still clutching a wet rag in her hand. Watching him being surrounded and praised by everyone, watching him take her labor for granted, the grievances in her heart finally burst like an inflated balloon.

It's not that she doesn't want to work.

She was willing to make sacrifices for Song Yan and integrate into his family for him, but what she didn't want was to be busy like a free nanny while her boyfriend acted like a hands-off manager, standing by and watching the whole thing, even thinking that it was all his due.

What she disliked even more was that Song Yan had never once stood up for her.

The chaos reached its peak on New Year's Eve.

From seven in the morning to eight at night, Xu Qin didn't stop for a moment. Picking vegetables, washing vegetables, chopping vegetables, mincing meat, making dumplings, cooking, and plating dishes—she and her aunt were the only ones who could handle the New Year's Eve dinner for more than a dozen people. Her aunt would also go out to chat or play mahjong from time to time, so she was practically the only one who stayed in the kitchen to do the work.

The oil in the pan sizzled, and the fumes made her cough. Her hair was covered in dust and grease, and her clothes were stained. The once clean and tidy person had become disheveled.

In the living room, Song Yan was drinking with his uncle, one glass after another, his face flushed red, his speech slurred. One moment he was patting his chest, saying how well he was doing, and the next he was showing off that he had found a beautiful and obedient girlfriend, which made all the relatives in the room burst into laughter.

Dishes were served one by one, people sat down one by one, chopsticks started moving, soup splashed on the tablecloth, bones were scattered all over the floor, and no one remembered that there was still someone in the kitchen who hadn't even had a hot meal.

When all the dishes were served and Xu Qin was finally able to leave the kitchen, the table was a complete mess. The hot dishes had gone cold, the good dishes had been snatched up, and only a pile of leftovers remained.

She silently picked up her chopsticks, intending to find a corner to sit down. Just as she took a bite of food, her aunt spoke up again: "Qinqin, don't eat yet. Wipe the table. The floor is too dirty; it won't look good when the guests come."

Xu Qin froze in place.

At that moment, all her grievances, exhaustion, and heartache, like a flood bursting its banks, instantly overwhelmed all her patience.

Looking at the people laughing and chatting in the room, at Song Yan who was drunk and only caring about his own happiness, and at her own hands that were red from the cold, her aching back, and her clothes covered in cooking fumes, she suddenly felt incredibly ridiculous.

She put down her chopsticks, her voice soft but trembling with suppressed emotion: "I've been busy since morning and haven't had a proper meal. Couldn't you have waited until I finished eating before cleaning up?"

The laughter in the living room stopped abruptly.

The relatives all looked over, their eyes filled with surprise, embarrassment, and a hint of indifference.

Her aunt's face darkened: "What are you saying, child? It's just some chores! Everyone's busy during the New Year. What's wrong with you doing more work while you're young?"

Song Yan then swayed over, reaching out to put his arm around her shoulder, his tone greasy and impatient from the alcohol: "What's wrong, baby? Why are you arguing with my aunt? It's just cleaning a table, hurry up and finish, don't make a fool of yourself in front of everyone."

"Watching a joke?" Xu Qin looked up, her eyes already red. "In your eyes, I'm just here to do chores, right? I'm your girlfriend, not your family's maid! I've been working all day, and I haven't even had a hot meal. Have you ever shown me any concern? You just sat there smoking, playing cards, and drinking the whole time. Did you even glance at me once?"

Her voice wasn't loud, but every word was clear, and it sounded particularly jarring in the quiet living room.

Song Yan's face instantly fell.

Being criticized by his girlfriend in front of his relatives made him feel utterly humiliated. Fueled by the alcohol, his tone hardened: "Xu Qin, what are you doing? It's just doing some housework! What woman doesn't do chores? Don't take your blessings for granted. Let me tell you, in my house, you have to follow my rules!"

"Your rule is that I have to be your slave while you act like a king?" Xu Qin's tears finally fell. "Song Yan, I've really had enough. I don't want to do this anymore."

She turned and walked towards the small bedroom, which was the room she and Song Yan were temporarily staying in. It was right next to the living room, separated by a wall, and there was no soundproofing.

Seeing this, Song Yan was afraid that she would really get angry, but also wanted to save face in front of his relatives, so he followed her inside and closed the door behind him.

Once the door was closed, the noise outside was temporarily shut out, but the atmosphere inside the room became extremely tense.

Xu Qin had her back to him, her shoulders trembling slightly, and tears silently streaming down her face. She had never felt so wronged, never felt so humiliated in her entire life.

Song Yan was still under the influence of alcohol. Seeing her cry, he felt both annoyed and a little heartbroken. However, he still refused to back down. Instead, he went over and hugged her from behind, his movements a bit forceful and a bit like a thug: "Alright, alright, stop crying. It was my fault, okay? Don't make a scene at my uncle's house and make us a laughingstock."

Xu Qin forcefully broke free from him: "Now you know you're afraid of being laughed at? When you were acting like a hands-off manager just now, weren't you afraid I'd feel wronged?"

"I was just visiting relatives, wasn't that what everyone does during Chinese New Year?" Song Yan leaned closer again, trying to coax her, his tone still greasy. "Be good, I'll buy you a present when we get back, okay? Don't be angry anymore, or I won't let you leave."

As he spoke, he reached out to pull her into his arms to comfort her. His movements were a bit too forceful, and coupled with the alcohol he had been drinking, he was unsteady on his feet. The two of them bumped into the bedside table with a dull thud.

Xu Qin was hurt by his impact, and feeling both angry and aggrieved, she couldn't help but let out a soft cry, pushing him away with a tearful voice: "Let go of me! Song Yan, don't touch me!"

"I won't let go. You're my girlfriend. If I don't touch you, who will I touch?" Song Yan, emboldened by the alcohol, half-coaxed and half-acted, clinging to her. He wanted to make her laugh and smooth things over, so he deliberately lowered his voice and whine in her ear, "If you cry again, I'll kiss you until you stop crying..."

His actions carried a hint of domineering intimacy, making Xu Qin both ashamed and angry. She desperately tried to dodge and push him away, unable to suppress her sobs and soft resistance.

The door to the room was closed gently, but not locked.

The walls of this old house are not soundproof.

The relatives in the living room were whispering about the argument when they suddenly heard a shoving sound, suppressed sobs, Song Yan's indistinct coaxing, and Xu Qin's tearful resistance coming from the bedroom. The sounds were not loud, but they clearly penetrated the thin door panel and reached everyone's ears.

Instantly, the entire living room fell silent.

The card players stopped playing, the sunflower seed eaters stopped talking, the chatterers fell silent, and everyone froze in place, their faces contorted with extreme awkwardness. They looked at each other, no one daring to speak, and even their breathing became soft.

Auntie's face flushed red and then turned pale. She wanted to cough to cover up her embarrassment, but dared not make a sound.

The uncle held his wine glass, his hand frozen in mid-air, caught in a dilemma.

My cousins ​​were looking down, pretending to look at their phones, but their ears were practically perked up.

The commotion in the bedroom continued.

Xu Qin had nowhere to vent her grievances and continued to sob softly. Song Yan half-coaxed and half-fussed with her, trying to calm her down. His movements were a little too forceful, and the bed made a slight creaking sound. His low voice carried a hint of roguishness: "Okay, stop crying... If you keep crying, others will hear you... Be good..."

Xu Qin was both angry and anxious, and she lowered her voice to yell at him, "Keep your voice down! There are people outside!"

"So what if I heard it? What's wrong with me comforting my girlfriend?" Song Yan was still trying to save face, his tone carrying a hint of recklessness and nonsense.

But those words pierced through the door and traveled clearly into the living room.

At that moment, the expressions on the relatives' faces were priceless.

Some people were so embarrassed that their shoulders were shaking from holding back their laughter, some were so embarrassed that they were digging their toes into the ground, and some pretended to get up to pour water, then hurriedly moved away.

The entire house was filled only with faint crying, pushing, and coaxing from the bedroom, contrasting sharply with the deathly silence in the living room, creating an absurd and chaotic scene.

After an unknown amount of time, the noise in the bedroom finally subsided.

Xu Qin was exhausted from crying and making a scene. She leaned against the bed, staring blankly at the ground. Song Yan finally calmed down and sat down beside her. He was mostly sober now and, looking at her red eyes, felt a genuine sense of guilt.

He reached out and gently touched her hand. This time, his tone was no longer greasy or arrogant, but unusually earnest: "I'm sorry, Qinqin, I was wrong."

Xu Qin didn't look at him or say anything.

She knew in her heart that saying sorry wouldn't change anything.

This Spring Festival was devoid of tenderness, consideration, and the warmth of family reunion she had imagined. Instead, she was left with endless chores crammed into the old house, Song Yan's self-righteous lord-like behavior, a house full of relatives watching the spectacle, a bellyful of unspeakable grievances, and finally, this absurd farce that was overheard by everyone.

Outside the door, the relatives remained seated quietly, none of them speaking first; the awkwardness in the air seemed almost solidified.

Inside the room, Xu Qin and Song Yan remained silent, with only the smoke and mess in the room and the undeniable estrangement between them.

Outside the window, fireworks soared into the sky, illuminating the dark night. The crackling sounds masked all the grievances, embarrassment, and chaos inside the house.

Xu Qin gazed at the dazzling fireworks outside the window, and felt a touch of happiness in her heart.

This Spring Festival, spent crammed into her uncle's house, was a time of celebration for everyone else. All she had was endless chores, unbearable grievances, and a ridiculous incident that became known to all.

The fireworks have faded, but the mess remains.

I can help you expand on the details, add more argumentative dialogue, strengthen Song Yan's greasy character, or write awkward scenes of relatives gossiping later, to make the story more substantial and the conflict more realistic. Do you want to continue making adjustments?