“Alright, let’s eat first. Tomorrow, everyone will go harvest the cabbages,” Zhao Daqing said, tapping his tobacco pipe and glancing at his eldest daughter-in-law.

Those two kids had been led astray by that woman.

Dinner was, as usual, the Zhao family’s standard — a pot of coarse cornmeal porridge, one cornbread bun per person, and a small plate of pickles.

On normal days, they would eat it with gusto, but tonight, no one in the Zhao family had any appetite.

Compared to the household next door, what on earth were they eating?

Zhao Yongqiang took a vicious bite of his cornbread and thought bitterly, “That damned Qian Chunhua, spending my silver every day to eat meat and drink soup. Looks like I need to move my plan up.”

That night, as they lay in bed, the aroma of meat lingering in the air made Li Cuihong feel furious.

Why was it that after severing ties, Qian Chunhua was living such a prosperous life while they were still gnawing on coarse buns every day?

Zhao Yongqiang sneered. “She’s a fool. She’ll blow through that silver in no time. What’s she going to do then?”

He rolled his eyes at Li Cuihong and gestured with his chin toward the corner of the wall where they kept their hidden stash of silver. “We’ve got silver too, more than she does. But we’re not stupid like her, only knowing how to indulge. We’re saving this silver for Qingyun. When he becomes a scholar or even a provincial graduate (juren), he’ll need it.”

Hearing this, Li Cuihong stopped complaining.

Compared to glorifying the family name, she could tolerate not eating meat.

“I’ll go check on Qingyun. That child barely ate today.” Li Cuihong got out of bed and went to the next room.

In the other room, Zhao Qingshui was lying on one side of the bed, while Zhao Qingyun lay on the other.

And Zhao Qingshui’s stinky feet were right next to Qingyun’s head.

Li Cuihong didn’t even notice — she had long been used to it.

After all, for the past ten-plus years, that’s how they had lived.

Even Qingsong had grown up sleeping with Qingshui’s smelly feet beside him.

Seeing her, Zhao Qingyun called out weakly, “Mom.”

Li Cuihong rushed over and touched his forehead. “What’s wrong? Still not feeling well?”

Zhao Qingyun shook his head faintly, saying nothing.

He had to hold his breath against the overpowering smell of feet.

Li Cuihong relaxed. “As long as you’re okay. Your big brother is with you — if anything happens, ask him to help.”

With just a few words of concern, she turned and left the room.

Zhao Qingyun closed his eyes in disappointment.

Beside his pillow was a bowl of cold well water — this was his big brother’s idea of care.

He remembered when he used to get sick, his current second aunt — back then still his mother — would always make pickled vegetable noodles for him.

A bowl of sour and spicy noodles with a fried egg, and after sweating it out, he’d feel much better.

Even when his mother was busy, Xiaoling would still come to take care of him, bringing him warm water — never cold.

Zhao Qingyun felt awful.

He stared at the door, desperately wishing his second aunt would appear and care for him again.

Zhao Qingshui glanced sideways at him.

He had never liked this cousin — now brother — who always acted high and mighty just because he had been to private school.

Now that he knew Qingyun was his biological brother, Zhao Qingshui felt even more resentful.

Why could he go to school, and I can’t?

He still had to forage for wild vegetables and pig feed every day, while Qingyun could sit comfortably in a classroom.

Zhao Qingshui said mockingly, “I bet Second Aunt made a ton of meat today. She was cooking all afternoon. You’re stupid — if you’d stuck with her, you’d be eating meat yesterday and again today.”

He swallowed hard, casting a glance at the brother he’d just been reunited with — a so-called scholar who didn’t even understand something as simple as sticking with the person who fed you meat.

For a moment, he was jealous of Qingsong.

Zhao Qingyun swallowed hard too, deeply missing the warmth and care he used to receive from Qian Chunhua — especially the sour-spicy noodles she made when he was sick.

Back in their room, Zhao Yongqiang suddenly slapped his thigh. “I’ve got it!”

Li Cuihong jumped. “What? Don’t scare me like that.”

Zhao Yongqiang beckoned her closer and whispered into her ear. “Tomorrow morning, I’ll go to the county to buy some quicklime. Then, when it’s dark and no one’s around, we’ll spread it over her field.”

Li Cuihong laughed and smacked his shoulder. “You’re really something. Even came up with that.”

Zhao Yongqiang chuckled. “She was heartless, so don’t blame me for being ruthless.”

And with that wicked scheme in mind, the black-hearted couple drifted off to sleep.

..

The next morning, after a warm, restful night on the heated brick bed, Qian Chunhua got up.

Breakfast was the same: milk, eggs, and steamed buns.

She had prepared it all the day before and just took it out of her storage space.

In a good mood — knowing she didn’t need to harvest cabbages today — she said to her two older children, “After school, go eat at Grandma’s house. I’m going up the mountain to chop wood and won’t be back for lunch.”

Qingsong nodded silently.

This used to be his job, but now his mother was doing it.

He silently made a vow: he would study hard to repay his mother for all her care.

After breakfast, Qingsong took his little sister to school.

Qian Chunhua packed a small clay pot of sweet-and-sour ribs and braised pork to bring to her mother’s house — for the children’s lunch.

When Mother Qian saw the pot and smelled the faint aroma of meat, she looked uneasy. “You brought meat again?”

Qian Chunhua smiled. “Mom, the kids are eating lunch at your place today.”

Mother Qian was slightly annoyed. “They can just eat. You already left plenty of rice and flour. Why are you being so formal with your own mother?”

“Rice and flour are food, but there’s no dishes.” Chunhua explained with a grin. “We’re all lacking nutrition — better to eat something rich and nourishing.”

Little Qingfeng, standing nearby, nodded in agreement.

He also felt undernourished — otherwise, why would he drool every time he saw meat?

Mother Qian gave her daughter an exasperated look. “What? You afraid I’ll starve your kids? That I won’t feed them enough?”

Qian Chunhua quickly hugged her mother’s arm and cooed, “Mom, it’s not that. I just feel bad for you and my brother. I figured I’d use the chance to help you both eat better too.”

Mother Qian sighed. “You silly child. Alright, I won’t say more. But you really need to plan carefully for the days ahead.”

Qian Chunhua nodded like a pecking chicken. “Don’t worry, Mom. I’ve already talked to Uncle Ding. After he finishes up this week, he’ll help me build my storefront.”

Mother Qian nodded.

As long as she had a plan in mind, it was fine.

She handed Qingfeng over to her mother, made sure everything was settled, then carried her basket and headed up the mountain.

Her goal today was to fill all the remaining water drums in her space.

She had already filled twenty in her last two trips — only thirty left.

A full day would be enough to finish the job.