Phoenix Golding cursed as she beat her, her words exceptionally foul. She used her favorite insult—"little hussy."

She’d learned it from *Dream of the Red Chamber*, though Phoenix Golding had only managed to pick up a few insults. The novel was profound and complex; with her level of understanding, she could only learn a few curses.

"It’s no use... I washed my hands at Aunt Green’s. I used her soap," Jacqueline explained through sobs, not daring to cry aloud.

"Still lying? That vixen can afford soap? I’d have to be a fool to believe you!"

Phoenix Golding didn’t believe her in the slightest and hit her even harder. Jacqueline dodged helplessly and lowered her head, her gaze turning colder. ’I will leave this family,’ she vowed silently. ’And I’ll make Phoenix Golding come begging for my favor.’

"What’s going on now? Your injuries haven’t even healed. Why get so worked up? Just calm down."

Vernon Spann, who had skipped work halfway through the day, came home to see his daughter being beaten. Fury surged within him, but he let none of it show on his face. He put on a placating smile, playing the part of a good husband concerned for Phoenix Golding’s health.

"This little hussy has sticky fingers. She stole and used my soap! The Golding family doesn’t produce petty thieves like that. This must come from your Spann family’s bad blood."

The sight of Vernon Spann only made Phoenix Golding angrier. ’Skipping work to laze around at home again,’ she thought. ’He earns fewer work points in a year than a woman does. How could I have been so blind as to marry this good-for-nothing? He’s completely useless. I have to handle everything, inside and out.’

"I didn’t do it. It was from Aunt Green’s house. Dad, I’m not lying," Jacqueline said, her expression a mixture of grievance and stubbornness.

"Rosalind Green? Where would she get the money for soap?" Vernon Spann didn’t quite believe it either. The Hawthorne family could barely fill their own stomachs, so how could they possibly have spare cash for a luxury like soap?

"It wasn’t just the bath soap. There was also a plastic washbasin, a soap dish, and laundry soap—all brand new."

Jacqueline told them everything. Otherwise, Phoenix Golding would never believe her.

Phoenix Golding was still only half-convinced, but Vernon Spann suddenly slapped his thigh. "That Adrian Hawthorne kid is always sneaking around. You never see a shadow of him during the day. He must be involved in some petty thievery."

Because Adrian Hawthorne had taken the cattle-herding job from him, Vernon Spann held a deep grudge. He was constantly spying on Adrian Hawthorne and Old Master Tate, looking for something he could use against them. If he found something, he could report them, and the job would be his again.

"He’s definitely sneaking into other villages to steal. Where else would they get that kind of money? Hmph. I knew that kid was no good from the start," Vernon Spann said with a sinister look.

"I’m going to the brigade leader right now! I’ll have them kicked out!"

Phoenix Golding was about to run off and make a report, but Vernon Spann stopped her. "Hold on, don’t be rash. It’s useless to accuse them without any proof. Besides, they have the Thorne family backing them up. We can wait until I find some real evidence."

"Then you’d better take this seriously. It’d be best to catch him in the act. Hmph, I’ll make sure they can’t survive in Millstone Peak!"

Phoenix Golding gritted her teeth in hatred. ’One mountain can’t hold two tigers, especially not two tigresses.’ Before Rosalind Green’s arrival, she had been the prettiest flower of Millstone Peak, holding the title of village belle since her maiden days.

But after Rosalind Green arrived, her status was severely threatened. All the men in the village coveted Rosalind’s beauty, flocking around her whenever they had the chance, like dogs that had spotted a bone. The sight of them drooling disgustingly made Phoenix Golding burn with a mixture of jealousy and hatred. All that attention used to be hers.

Jacqueline bit her lip, hesitating for a moment, but ultimately said nothing.

In truth, she didn’t believe for a second that Adrian Hawthorne would resort to petty theft. He just wasn’t that kind of person, and neither was Old Master Tate. Jacqueline was absolutely certain of this.

But she knew her parents wouldn’t believe her if she spoke up; she would just earn herself another beating and a scolding. It was better to say nothing at all.