Tian Meihua was pushed so hard that she staggered. “Mom…”  

Zhang Zhonghai also chimed in to plead for her: “Mom, let it go this time. If she does it again, I won’t speak up for her…”  

Seeing her second son’s spinelessness, Zhang’s mother felt nothing but frustration. That troublemaker—what kind of bewitching potion had she fed him?!  

“Tian Meihua, there’s a lot of work in the fields right now, and we’re busy earning work points. You’d better behave. I’ll be keeping an eye on you. If you still refuse to change your ways, you might as well pack up and go back to your parents’ home!” Zhang’s mother warned Tian Meihua sternly.  

Tian Meihua quickly agreed. Whatever she was thinking inside, she would have to stay in line for a while.  

“And Doudou’s candy…” Zhang’s mother then turned to the third son and his wife.  

“Mom, we don’t want it anymore,” Jiang Weihong said, disgusted at the thought of Zhang Yaozu licking the candy until it was all sticky. She’d just get Doudou another piece.  

“No,” Zhang’s mother insisted. She was determined to teach the second son’s family a lesson. If they didn’t pay a price, they wouldn’t remember.  

“The best candy at the supply and marketing cooperative costs five cents a piece. The candy Weihong brought back is even better than that, so we’ll count it as ten cents each,” Zhang’s mother declared. “Zhonghai, give the third son’s family twenty cents, and this matter will be settled.”  

The moment Tian Meihua heard they had to hand over money, her heart ached so much she nearly cried out. A whole jin of meat only cost seventy cents!  

But she had just been scolded by Zhang’s mother and didn’t dare say a word now. She could only watch resentfully as Zhang Zhonghai gave Zhang Zhongxin twenty cents.  

Tian Meihua was heartbroken: That shameless third son—he actually took the money! Their second branch of the family had worked so hard to save up that little bit!  

Zhang’s mother gave the second son’s family one last look and said, “If you can’t teach your child properly and let them snatch things from other kids, fine. Next time, we’ll handle it the same way. If the child doesn’t know better, the adults should. Be ready to clean up after your misbehaving kid!”  

It had to be said—Zhang’s mother knew exactly how to make Tian Meihua suffer. This lesson was one she wouldn’t forget. From now on, she wouldn’t dare let Zhang Yaozu steal from other kids again. Whether she could actually control him, though, was another matter.  

Liu Chunfang couldn’t help but feel relieved. Thankfully, her kids were all well-behaved and didn’t snatch things from others.  

As for Jiang Weihong, her mood improved significantly. She didn’t know how much the candy her brother had given was worth, but twenty cents was nothing to scoff at.  

After this incident, Tian Meihua didn’t dare cause any more trouble. The Zhang family would enjoy at least a brief period of peace.  

…

Jiang Le had no idea what kind of stir the candy he’d given had caused in the Zhang household.  

He was currently hunched over his desk by the window, working on problems.  

Though he shared a room with Jiang Junqing, separated by a curtain, Jiang Junqing had given him the side with the window. Sitting by the window to study made the light much better.  

Outside the window was the Jiang family’s courtyard. Seeing Jiang Le studying, Grandma Jiang and Jiang Huan kept their conversations inside the house, so the home was very quiet.  

Jiang Le frowned as he took notes, but suddenly, a loud pitter-patter came from outside. His mind was still stuck on the problem, so it took him a moment to react. Then, Jiang Huan’s voice rang out: “Oh no, it’s raining!”  

Jiang Le immediately jumped up and ran outside. “My clothes!”

He had just managed to find time in the morning to wash his dirty clothes. Jiang Huan had offered to do it for him, but how could he let her? He’d scrubbed them clean by hand, and they were now hanging in the yard to dry.  

The weather was so unpredictable—just moments ago, the sun had been blazing, but in the brief time he hadn’t paid attention, the sky had darkened.  

By the time Jiang Le rushed outside, he found Jiang Huan had already gathered his clothes for him and was busy collecting the rest of the family’s laundry from the yard. Seeing Grandma Jiang also about to step out, Jiang Le quickly called out, “Grandma, don’t come out! The ground’s slippery. My sister and I can handle it—there’s not much anyway.”  

With that, he ducked his head and dashed into the rain. The downpour was heavy and sudden. By the time Jiang Le and Jiang Huan had gathered everything, the rain had intensified, but thankfully, none of the laundry had gotten wet—otherwise, it might have ended up musty.  

They also covered the firewood chopped in the yard. If it got soaked, it wouldn’t burn as well.  

The three of them sat under the eaves—the spot where they usually ate—watching the heavy rain outside. The earthy scent mixed with the rain was oddly soothing.  

Jiang Le wiped his hair, a little worried. “Why aren’t Mom and Dad back yet?”  

“The fields are a bit far from home. Maybe they’re taking shelter somewhere else first,” Grandma Jiang said.  

Jiang Le thought that made sense.  

“The weather’s bad today—let’s start cooking early.” With the rain, everyone would likely knock off work early and come home. The sky was gloomy, so it was better to prepare the meal now to avoid fumbling in a dim kitchen later and wasting electricity by turning on the lights.  

“Grandma, what are we making today?” Jiang Huan, the little foodie, immediately perked up with anticipation.  

Grandma Jiang could tell exactly what she was thinking and chuckled. “We still have the meat your sister brought back. It’s been a while since we had dumplings—how about pork and scallion dumplings?”  

Jiang Huan cheered. “Yes! Grandma, I’ll help!”  

Jiang Le wasn’t in the mood for studying anymore, so he decided to pitch in too.  

For pork and scallion dumplings, the meat had to be minced finely to taste good. There were no meat grinders back then—it was all done by hand.  

Hand-chopped filling had a better texture than machine-ground meat, making the dumplings more flavorful.  

But mincing the meat was also a workout. Jiang Le volunteered for the task.  

Jiang Huan wasn’t entirely convinced. “Little Brother, are you sure you can handle it?”  

Jiang Le felt that, thanks to his recent exercise, his body was healthier than before. As a guy, he should at least have some strength. How hard could chopping meat be? Piece of cake.  

Seeing his determination, Jiang Huan didn’t argue and went to help Grandma Jiang knead the dough instead.  

At first, Jiang Le attacked the meat with enthusiasm, but after a while, he started questioning his life choices. The repetitive motion wasn’t just boring—his arm was killing him.  

“Little Brother, want me to take over?” Jiang Huan offered.  

Guagua, watching the show, teased: [Host, are you really that weak?] 

Jiang Le: […]

He shook his head at Jiang Huan. “No, I’ve got this.”  

“But you’re too slow. When are we ever going to wrap the dumplings at this rate?” Jiang Huan bluntly pointed out.

With tears in his eyes, Jiang Le sped up his chopping. Finally, after relentless effort, the meat filling was ready.  

Grandma Jiang mixed the chopped scallions into the minced meat and added seasonings. Even raw, the filling looked incredibly tempting.  

Back in modern times, Jiang Le had lived alone. Though the villagers were warm-hearted and often invited him over for meals, pitying the “poor kid” fending for himself, he eventually felt too embarrassed to keep accepting. So, he learned to cook from them—starting with dumplings.  

At first, his dumplings were misshapen and odd, but over time, he mastered making plump, perfectly rounded ones.  

Now, as he wrapped dumplings alongside Grandma Jiang and Jiang Huan, Grandma Jiang glanced at his work and smiled. “Our little one is so clever! First time making dumplings, and they’re already this neat.”  

Jiang Huan took a look and nodded. “Yeah, they’re even better than mine.”  

Their praise was so effusive that they didn’t suspect a thing.  

Jiang Le just grinned nervously, not daring to say much.  

Grandma Jiang rolled out the wrappers while Jiang Le and Jiang Huan filled and folded them. They worked quickly, soon filling two large steamers and then some.  

The steamers, used on the village’s traditional stove, were big enough that you had to stretch your arms wide to grip the handles on either side. They were perfect for holding dumplings—easy to handle when cooking and keeping them clean.  

As the rain outside seemed to lighten, Jiang Huan washed her hands and dashed out. “I’ll go see if Mom and Dad are back!”  

At the doorstep, she found Zhao Meilian and the others already returning, their clothes damp from the rain. Their cloth shoes were caked with thick mud, weighing them down like lead. They scraped off the mud with sticks before stepping inside.  

“Dad, Mom, Second Brother—dinner’s ready!” Jiang Huan called.  

They hurriedly finished cleaning up, washed, changed, and were immediately greeted by the mouthwatering aroma from the kitchen.  

The rich scent of meat dumplings carried far, and after a long day’s work, their stomachs growled in protest.  

“It’s been ages since we had meat dumplings. I’ve been craving them,” Zhao Meilian said as she washed up and helped serve the dumplings. “No one makes them like you, Mom.”  

Grandma Jiang beamed. “Eat up, then. Honestly, even I’ve been missing them.”  

Jiang Le eagerly grabbed his bowl, picked up a dumpling with his chopsticks, and took a bite. Instantly, his mouth was filled with savory meat and a hint of scallion’s sharpness—utterly delicious.  

The whole family was too busy devouring the dumplings to even look up. Only by the second bowl did they finally pause to talk.  

“Grandma, your dumplings are amazing,” Jiang Le said with complete sincerity. Back in the modern era, he’d made them himself and eaten them at restaurants, but none compared to his grandma’s.

It was hard to say whether it was because the meat and vegetables in this era were just naturally more flavorful, or if there was some other reason.  

As soon as he said that, the whole family burst into laughter. Zhao Meilian teased, “Every time your grandma makes meat dumplings, you say the same thing!”  

“Grandma’s meat dumplings are the best—even better than the ones at the state-run restaurant!” Jiang Huan chimed in.  

Grandma Jiang chuckled. “Oh? Have you ever even had dumplings from the state-run restaurant?”  

Jiang Huan huffed. “No, but I know yours are better! Right, Second Brother? Dad? Mom?”  

Naturally, they all nodded in agreement. “Absolutely.”  

After finishing the dumplings, they sipped the savory broth, warmth spreading through them, leaving every pore content.  

Seeing there were still plenty of dumplings left, Grandma Jiang scooped a bowlful and called Jiang Le over. “Little one, take these to Yu Hezhong—let him have a taste.”  

Grandma Jiang had a kind heart. Before, she couldn’t help much, but now that she knew her grandson and Yu Hezhong were friends, she wanted to do what she could, even if it wasn’t much.  

Truthfully, Jiang Le had also thought of Yu Hezhong during the meal, but he hadn’t wanted to take food from his family’s mouths without asking. They weren’t well-off either, and he couldn’t make decisions for them, no matter how close they were.  

Now that Grandma Jiang had suggested it herself, he happily agreed, carefully wrapping the bowl before rushing off to find Yu Hezhong.  

Meanwhile, Jiang Junqing was tidying up in his room when Zhao Meilian’s voice came from outside. “Junqing, can I come in?”  

When he opened the door, she stood there holding a pot of hot water. “Your legs always ache when it rains. Soak them in this—it might help a little.”  

Even if no one mentioned it, the family never forgot.  

Jiang Junqing froze. Because—he hadn’t remembered. That was unheard of in the past.  

Usually, even before the rain, his legs would start throbbing unbearably—stabbing pain that kept him rolling in bed all night, drenched in cold sweat, unable to sleep. Hot water could ease it slightly, but not much.  

Yet this time, if Zhao Meilian hadn’t come, he might not have even noticed.  

Dazed, he moved his legs experimentally, then murmured, “Mom… my legs don’t hurt.”