Sister Yun greeted the whole Hu family, old and young.

Hu Qiangyong’s wife, Zhao Yao, snorted through her nose—half smiling, half not.

When Sister Yun divided the goods into three parts, Zhao Yao’s face grew even darker with an indescribable gloom.

The three shares Sister Yun handed out were never exactly the same; there were subtle differences, and it was clear there was a slight bias toward Yu Xifeng.

Among the small half-pan of pork, the best tenderloin portion was given to Yu Xifeng, and she also got the lamb chop piece with the most meat.

Hu Qiangyong evidently accepted this distribution.

His own and Sister Yun’s shares were about equal, with his having a bit more flour and a slightly smaller piece of steak, which was considered fair.

Zhao Yao endured it silently for a while, then spoke up: “Even if the kayak was mostly from Xiao Yu, my husband is a man. He must have put in a lot of effort this trip. It’s not about getting more, but at least he shouldn’t get less, right?”

Sister Yun showed a half-smile, glanced at Hu Qiangyong, then put down the flour and gestured to him: “Come on, you do it.”

Hu Qiangyong’s face flushed a dark reddish-purple, and he kept waving his hands: “I have no objections.”

He turned to Yu Xifeng with an embarrassed smile: “You deserve whatever share you get.”

“Wife, if you have nothing else, you can go back first. Today, even the whole lot could have been taken by Xiao Yu.”

“You, you—” Zhao Yao was so angry her face turned red; she tilted her head to glare at Yu Xifeng’s fair face with an increasingly hostile expression.

This made Sister Yun smile.

There had been rumors going around the building about Hu Qiangyong and Sister Yun; Zhao Yao, a widow before, didn’t take such gossip seriously.

Back then she had made a few cryptic remarks, but Sister Yun ignored them.

However, she couldn’t stand by and watch Zhao Yao provoke Yu Xifeng.

“You still don’t know what the situation at Lin Mansion is like, do you?” Sister Yun stared at Zhao Yao. “The whole neighborhood has no living people left. It’s all blood. The doors are smashed in, homes completely robbed. People with broken hands crawled outside, dying without peace.”

Zhao Yao was stunned.

Hu Qiangyong recalled the scene, his face turning pale and gray.

Sister Yun tapped the steak: “You’ve seen this stuff. It’s definitely not from disaster relief. We went to that five-star hotel and ran into those people who had just left Lin Mansion. If it weren’t for Yu Xifeng, we wouldn’t have made it back at all.”

Zhao Yao blurted out: “No way.”

Yu Xifeng sat with her legs together, head lowered, peeling a sugar tangerine gently, her neck graceful, looking well-mannered.

The sugar tangerines were what the three of them brought back from the hotel—just a small bag left, which Sister Yun brought along.

Divided among the three, each got five or six.

They were starting to soften, and eating them made a slight crunch, like ice cream.

Zhao Yao grew even more upset. Her family was starving; her child was crying from hunger, and she wished she could swallow her own fingers just to eat.

There was no way they could be so calm.

Yu Xifeng clearly looked like a good girl.

What kind of skills could a girl like that have?

Wasn’t it all thanks to her husband!

She glared fiercely at Hu Qiangyong, about to say more, when Hu’s mother struck her cane heavily on the ground: “Zhao Yao!”

Zhao Yao curled her lips but didn’t speak again out of respect for her mother-in-law’s expression.

Hu’s mother, bent over, bowed deeply toward Yu Xifeng: “Zhao Yao is young and immature, please don’t take her words to heart. My Qiangyong isn’t capable of much; he relies completely on these two to raise him. If there’s anything you need, just call on him. Our family will have no objections.”

Hu’s mother knew her son well—his courage and ability were average.

There were far more teams than just theirs going out on kayaks.

But only Yu Xifeng and Sister Yun never came back empty-handed.

That wasn’t because of her son’s abilities.

Hu’s mother turned and fetched a bunch of sprouted beans from the house.

“We’ve got beans ready at home. You brought back all this good meat—add some vegetables too.”

Though she used a cane, Hu’s mother still held the situation firmly.

Sister Yun’s expression lightened somewhat and she smiled at her.

“Xiao Yu looks like a student but is much more capable than us,” Hu’s mother said. “Things outside have gotten so bad. In Building 3, the elderly are already gone. The last time they did disaster relief, people still had to bring their ID cards to collect supplies. If not for the strange smell outside, no one would have known how long the elders were rotting at home.”

She held Sister Yun’s hand: “Disaster relief was supposed to come once a week, but it’s been over half a month. Are they not coming anymore?”

Sister Yun sighed: “Probably too busy. With Lin Mansion like that, who knows how many eyes were watching when we returned.”

Zhao Yao suddenly interrupted: “You two women guard such a big place. If stuff gets stolen, why not just keep it at my place? I’ll watch it for you.”

Hu’s mother’s face darkened, and she pointed her cane toward the door: “Qiangyong, take your wife home. There’s no room here for your nonsense!”

Hu Qiangyong scratched his head: “Wife, it’s cold outside. Let’s go back.”

Half-dragging, half-pulling, Zhao Yao was taken away.

Yu Xifeng and Sister Yun pretended not to see.

Hu’s mother noticed Yu Xifeng wasn’t very talkative and chatted with Sister Yun a little more.

The goods were almost all divided.

Yu Xifeng got about 30 kilograms of rice—about 60 jin—over 10 jin of flour, six cut steaks, a whole chunk of lamb ribs totaling about 15 jin, a bucket of oil, and a hefty piece of tenderloin weighing over 10 jin.

There was also a box of salt—each got more than a dozen small packs—enough to cure the meat.

They also had plenty of snacks.

Everything was excellent quality; rationed well, it could last two to three months.

The bunch of bean sprouts lay on top, bright green.

It’s really hard to find fresh vegetables now.

There were some in the hotel storeroom.

Sister Yun hadn’t taken them because she decided to prioritize filling meat and rice.

Yu Xifeng took the bean sprouts home to cook in meatball soup.

She also added kelp, a small handful of baby bok choy, and a few potato slices.

After washing up from her space storage, she found the soup nearly done in the kitchen.

It was warming to drink.

The pan-fried steak was brushed with black pepper sauce, sliced, and mixed with rice.

After eating, Yu Xifeng lay on the sofa to digest.

She took out Xiao Ju from the storage.

Xiao Ju lightly landed on the tile floor and sniffed the lingering aroma of food.

Yu Xifeng’s trip had been fruitful; she kindly steamed a whole crucian carp for Xiao Ju.

No seasonings, just placed on a plate.

Xiao Ju happily chewed the fish bones with a crisp sound.

Sister Yun stir-fried the bean sprouts and boldly treated herself to a piece of lamb chop.

After all, it was a five-star hotel ingredient.

The lamb was original and fresh, slightly charred at the edges, crispy outside, tender inside.

Hu Qiangyong’s family made dough and rolled skins, chopped meat for dumplings, the chopping board thudding loudly.

Hu’s mother usually was thrifty.

After hearing Hu Qiangyong’s stories from the day, she put plenty of filling into the dumplings.

If they didn’t eat today, who knew if there’d be a tomorrow.