The wild rabbit was stir-fried with chili sauce. When it was half-cooked, Li Qiuhua added two homegrown white radishes, and just before taking it off the stove, she tossed in some chopped green chilies for extra flavor.

Shen Zhihuan, awakened by Weidong shaking her shoulder, barely opened her eyes when she smelled fragrant aroma of radish, green chili, and wild hare filled the air.

By the time Shen Zhihuan had washed her face, the delicious dishes were already laid out on the table.

As Shen Zhimei looked at the bowl of white rice in front of her, her expression turned dazed.

She couldn’t remember the last time she’d had white rice.

Every day, it was coarse grain steamed buns or wild vegetable soup. Even the so-called sweet potato porridge was just a few slices of sweet potato mixed with a bowl of watery rice soup.

If it weren’t for occasionally seeing Qian Zhizhi and the Qian family’s treasure, Qian Dabao, eating rice, Shen Zhimei might have forgotten that such a thing even existed.

Whenever she overheard her daughters, Daya and Erya, whispering about the rice porridge they’d had at their grandmother’s house, her heart ached with guilt.

It was her fault for being so useless.

She’d been married into the Qian family for six or seven years. Despite the family having several strong laborers and receiving 400 to 500 catties of refined grain annually, not a single grain ever made it into her or her daughters’ bowls.

While Qian Dabao was raised chubby and fair, her two daughters were thin, frail, and dressed in tattered clothing. In winter, they didn’t even have proper cotton jackets, and their hands would swell and crack from the cold.

As Shen Zhimei lowered her head to pick at her bowl of rice, tears silently fell, soaking into the grains.

“Elder Sister, what’s wrong? Did someone in the Qian family upset you?” Shen Zhihuan frowned, setting down her chopsticks.

From the original host’s memories, she knew well what kind of person her elder sister’s mother-in-law was—a domineering and unreasonable woman who could outmatch any bully.

“No, I’m just really happy to be having a meal with you after so long,” Shen Zhimei quickly wiped her tears.

“Elder Sister, farmwork will never end. If you have time, bring Daya and Erya home more often,” Shen Zhihuan said, placing the large chicken leg from the bowl onto Shen Zhimei’s plate.

Every family has its struggles, and if her elder sister didn’t want to talk about it, Shen Zhihuan wouldn’t press.

After all, only the person living the hardship knows how cold or warm the water is. Interfering might only make things worse.

Shen Zhimei frowned at the chicken leg in her bowl and was about to return it. “I don’t like chicken legs. You should eat it—”

“Your younger sister gave it to you, so eat it,” Li Qiuhua interjected, her voice firm. “There’s plenty in the bowl. Do you really think she’ll go hungry because of one chicken leg?”

“Elder Sister, just eat it. It’s so hot today that if we don’t finish it, it’ll spoil,” Shen Zhihuan added. She then placed the other chicken leg into Weidong’s bowl and gave Li Qiuhua a piece of the chicken breast.

By the time the meal was over, the dishes had been nearly cleaned out.

After clearing the table, Shen Zhimei prepared to leave.

She was uneasy about leaving Daya and Erya alone at home. Recently, Qian Dabao had become obsessed with slingshot and had pestering old lady Qian to make him one.

As expected, old lady Qian, who indulged her golden grandson in everything, quickly obliged.

In the past few days, Qian Dabao had been shooting at anything he saw. The window of Shen Zhimei’s room already had several holes from his slingshot.

She had been covering the window with a wooden board out of fear that one of his stray shots might injure her daughters.

Before she left, Li Qiuhua wrapped the two rabbit legs in oil paper and packed the last remaining egg cakes, sticky rice sticks, a jar of malted milk, and half a bag of milk powder into Shen Zhimei’s worn cloth bag.

She even asked Weidong to fetch a bag of white rabbit milk candy from Shen Zhihuan’s stash, ignoring Shen Zhimei’s protests and insisting that they were for the two little nieces.

The sight of it all made Shen Zhihuan chuckle softly.

As they saw Shen Zhimei off, Li Qiuhua tucked five large-denomination bills into her daughter’s pocket, leaving Shen Zhimei with red eyes as she returned to the Qian household.

The courtyard gate was half-open, and the yard was eerily quiet.

Qian Xingcheng had injured his leg, and both Qian Xingwang and Qian Xingcheng wife, Xie Xiaofen, were at the hospital taking care of him.

Qian Dabao was likely out with old lady Qian, playing with his slingshot near the mountain.

As for Qian Zhizhi, she never stayed home long after meals. Recently, she’d been smitten with a handsome new educated youth at the Village’s station, frequently running there with hard-boiled eggs in hand.

She wouldn’t return until dinner, completely unbothered by the rumors circulating in the village that she was restless and whoever married her would be unlucky.

Old lady Qian didn’t care about the gossip. She pampered Qian Zhizhi relentlessly, and anyone who dared to criticize her would be met with days of scolding at their front door.

Finding no one home, Shen Zhimei quickly ran inside to hide the goodies.

Just as she finished, she heard familiar footsteps approaching from the yard.

Daya and Erya entered the yard, each carrying a small bundle of firewood.

“Mom, you’re back!” They brightened at the sight of their mother, dropping the firewood and running into her arms.

Shen Zhimei hushed them, motioning for silence.

The sisters obediently closed their mouths, their joy evident in their sparkling eyes.

Shen Zhimei checked the yard again to ensure no one was around. Then, from beneath her bed, she retrieved the oil paper-wrapped rabbit legs and handed them to her daughters, urging them to eat quickly.

Daya’s eyes lit up. “Mom, is this from Auntie?”

“It’s from your grandmother, auntie, and uncle. Eat quickly before anyone sees,” Shen Zhimei said, stroking their heads.

“Mom, you have some too!” the girls chorused, holding the rabbit legs to her mouth.

“I already ate at your grandmother’s house. These are specially saved for you two,” Shen Zhimei whispered, gently urging them to eat.

From outside, they heard the twang of Qian Dabao’s slingshot and old lady Qian’s doting voice.

“Grandma, I want a chicken leg,” Qian Dabao demanded, aiming his slingshot at the chickens in the yard.

“Oh, my little sweetheart, those chickens are for laying eggs. If you want chicken legs, I’ll have your father buy you some braised ones from the supply and marketing cooperative when he’s back,” old lady Qian cooed, trying to pacify him.

“And I want egg cake,” Qian Dabao added loudly.

“Of course, whatever my darling wants, Grandma will get it,” old lady Qian promised.

Inside, Daya and Erya exchanged a glance before eagerly biting into their rabbit legs.