The air was filled with the sweet aroma of roasted chestnuts.

Wang Niuqui swallowed his saliva and followed behind Zhao Sidan. “Sidan, can you give me one more to eat…?”

Zhao Sidan only had two left in his hands.

After hesitating for a long time, he picked up one, took a bite, and handed the remaining half to Wang Niuqui.

Then, he turned and ran home, afraid that if he stayed any longer, he’d have to give away his last one too.

Wang Niuqui held onto the half chestnut, unwilling to eat it.

Instead, he brought it home and handed it to his mother, Aunt Wang. “This is a chestnut made by Sidan’s mother. Mom, can you make them like this?”

Aunt Wang took a deep breath and immediately caught the sweet and rich aroma.

She picked up the chestnut and took a small bite.

Instantly, she started scolding, “That woman is such a spendthrift! Who fries chestnuts with oil? And she even added sugar! The few copper coins at home aren’t enough for her to waste! She only cares about eating well for the moment and doesn’t even think about what to eat tomorrow! Bah! No wonder Old Lady Zhao looks down on her as a daughter-in-law…”

Her scolding reached the ears of Cheng Wanwan next door.

She was chopping wild vegetables, planning to make a cold salad later.

Upon hearing Aunt Wang’s insults, her hands didn’t stop moving.

The original owner of her body had a bad reputation in the village, with many people talking behind her back.

If she had to argue with each of them, she’d be too busy.

She didn’t react, but Zhao Sanniu was furious.

He grabbed the axe he had been using for chopping firewood and charged out. “Aunt Wang, what did you just say?”

Aunt Wang was startled. “What’s wrong with you, silly boy? I’ve never treated you unfairly. But your mother only cares about feeding herself—when has she ever cared for you kids…?”

It was true that she had helped the Zhao children over the years.

When the harvests were good, she occasionally gave them buckwheat buns.

Even in these tough years, she would sneak them dried wild vegetables or small cornbread buns.

Otherwise, Zhao Sanniu’s axe would have landed right on the pile of firewood next to her feet.

He carried the axe and said, “My mother treats us well. The chestnuts were made just for us. Otherwise, how would Sidan have extra to share with Mudfish?”

“Sanniu! Bring some firewood to the kitchen!”

Cheng Wanwan called from inside.

Zhao Sanniu immediately ran in, carrying the chopped wood to the kitchen.

Aunt Wang stood at the door, suspicious.

The Zhao children had always been at odds with their mother.

In the past, when she scolded that woman in front of them, they never reacted.

But today, this brat Zhao Sanniu actually wanted to chop her with an axe!

Wang Niuqui muttered beside her, “Sidan had more than a dozen chestnuts in his pocket—way more than I did…”

Aunt Wang slapped him on the back of the head. “Be grateful you even got some! Stop whining and go chop firewood!”

She glanced toward the yard next door in disbelief.

Cheng Wanwan was squatting, cleaning wild vegetables, while Wu Huiniang, was sitting on a stool, sewing clothes. Ever since that woman married into the Zhao family, she had never done any chores.

Was the sun rising from the west today?

Wu Huiniang quickly finished mending Zhao Sidan’s tattered clothes, bit off the thread, and then went into the kitchen to prepare dinner.

She thought they could just eat some chestnuts for dinner.

But her mother-in-law insisted that they needed a proper meal—only by eating their fill could they have the strength to work.

For dinner, they had white flour noodles.

Wu Huiniang kneaded the dough and cooked the noodles while Cheng Wanwan prepared the dishes—one cold bitter lettuce salad and one cold mushroom salad.

Most villagers ate dark, rough flour mixed with various grains.

Even when made into noodles, it was coarse and scratchy on the throat.

But white flour was different—it looked appealing and had a soft, fragrant taste. A single bite filled the mouth with a delightful aroma.

Paired with the refreshing cold dishes, the meal was so delicious that even the soup was finished to the last drop.

For the first time, Wu Huiniang realized that the wild vegetables she had always thought of as bitter and tough could actually be so refreshing.

Though, they did use up quite a bit of oil and firewood.

After dinner, Cheng Wanwan brought out freshly washed wild fruits, which Zhao Sidan had collected during the day.

The small fruits were red and green, possibly plums or wild apples.

They tasted crisp, sour, and sweet.

The whole family ate until their bellies were round.

Zhao Sidan sighed contentedly, “If only we could eat like this every day.”

Zhao Ergou quickly did the math in his head.

They had bought 20 pounds of rice and 20 pounds of white flour that morning.

If they ate three pounds per meal—six pounds a day—it would only last them about six or seven days.

Zhao Sanniu asked bluntly, “What do we do when the food from the silver hairpin runs out?”

Zhao Dashan replied, “The crops in the fields will be ready for harvest in about twenty days. We won’t starve.”

At his words, the room fell silent.

It hadn’t rained for over a month.

Even the village’s great river had dried up, let alone the rice paddies.

Without water, the crops wouldn’t bear grain.

Everyone in the village hoped for a good harvest, but when that day arrived, it might mark the true beginning of their nightmare.

Cheng Wanwan waved her hand. “The bridge will straighten when the boat gets to it. This isn’t something you kids need to worry about. Wash up and go to bed.”

The night was quiet.

The three young boys fell asleep as soon as they climbed into bed.

After sleeping with the children for days, Cheng Wanwan had gotten used to it.

She gradually drifted into slumber.

A sharp scream pierced the silent night.

She jolted awake, sitting up in bed.

Heart-wrenching cries echoed outside.

Zhao Dashan stood at the doorway and said, “Mother, there was a thief in the village!”

Cheng Wanwan instinctively looked toward the cabinet where they stored their food. She grabbed the key and opened it. The rice and flour were still there. She let out a sigh of relief.

“The thieves stole all the food from Aunt Wang’s house,” Zhao Dashan continued. “Village Chief Grandpa has sent people to chase after them. But who knows if they’ll catch up.”

Cheng Wanwan got up, put on her shoes, and walked outside.

Most of the village men had gone after the thieves. The women stayed behind to comfort Aunt Wang.

Aunt Wang sat on the ground, wiping her tears. “What kind of sin has our Wang family committed? Why did they have to steal from us? Damn thieves, I hope the heavens strike them down with lightning!”

Cheng Wanwan and the Wang family lived at the edge of the village, near the foot of the mountain. If thieves came in, their houses were the first to be targeted.

The Wang family had come from another village two generations ago, escaping famine and settling in Zhao Village.

That’s why their home was at the outer edge of the village.

Cheng Wanwan’s house had also belonged to outsiders.

The previous owner had only two daughters, who married out.

When he died, the house was abandoned. When she split from the Zhao family, the village chief let her live here.

Aunt Wang wailed, “The crops are ruined, and now our food is stolen. How are we supposed to live? Six of us—might as well all die together… We had over fifty pounds of grain saved up, and even the two big baskets of chestnuts we collected yesterday are gone…”

The surrounding women gasped.

They didn’t expect the Wang family to still have fifty pounds of food stored—enough to last six people a month on one meal a day.

The village chief sighed. “There are still twenty days until the harvest. Everyone, let’s lend them a little bit of food so they can get through this.”