Chapter 19: A Family of Four with Full Bellies

After soaking the red beans in hot water, Song Yeqing placed the meat on the chopping board. She first separated the fatty parts, then sliced one half and minced the other.

The knife was a bit awkward to use, and she sorely missed the complete set of kitchen knives from her storage space.

But in the end, she still managed to process the meat smoothly. Then, using the water she had drawn in the morning and let settle, she washed and chopped the vegetables.

Once everything was prepared, she put the small chunks of fatty meat into the pot to render the lard. When the cracklings were done, the delicious aroma tempted her to reach out with her sinful little hand and pick up a piece of the crispy pork skin.

The cracklings didn’t even have any salt on them, but one bite filled her mouth with an indescribably fragrant, crispy delight. The skin was chewy and became more flavorful the more she chewed.

Excellent! It was the first time she thought pork cracklings could be so tasty.

Thinking back, she realized how spoiled she used to be without knowing it. If it weren’t for the storage space, she might not have been able to maintain that cold and emotionless mask right after transmigrating.

Not to mention the hardships—just going to the toilet in ancient rural life was already a serious challenge. This lifestyle really put people to the test.

Although the remaining cracklings were still trying to seduce her, Song Yeqing resisted the temptation. She poured the rendered lard into a jar and left a little in the pot to start making the minced pork eggplant casserole.

She stir-fried the chopped garlic chives starting from the white base near the roots, then added the minced pork and cooked it until slightly browned before scooping it out.

The eggplant had already been salted and squeezed to remove excess water, so she added it to the pan and stir-fried it in the oil.

Next, she added soy sauce, a pinch of salt, and some minced ginger she had just found in the cupboard—an old, dried piece of ginger. She poured in a bit of water, and the aroma began to rise.

By now, the rice was cooked too. She moved the rice pot off the stove and placed the clay pot with the eggplant in its place.

She added the minced meat back in, covered the pot, and let it stew for five minutes. The dish would be done by then.

It was a pity she had packed away her chili peppers in a box—it was too conspicuous to dig them out now. Otherwise, she would have “smuggled” some in no matter what.

Without chili, these dishes really lacked some punch. Especially meat stir-fried with dried chili—now that was unbeatable.

Let the dish stew. She returned to the stove to work on the rest.

She was busy for over an hour before the meal was finally ready. She couldn’t help it—these outdated kitchen tools really held her back.

Cooking the red bean sour soup took a long time, too. Plus, she had to constantly feed the firewood to keep it going.

Fortunately, He Yanxin, drawn in by the aroma of pork cracklings, came in with the children, had a taste, and then voluntarily took over the task of keeping the fire going. That saved her from constantly monitoring the flame.

When the food was served, the minced pork and eggplant casserole was savory and went perfectly with rice. The red bean sour soup was soft, fluffy, and appetizing. And as for the stir-fried pork—no words needed.

In the end, the four of them sat around the table, eating nonstop, devouring every last bit of food.

Even the younger son, who was still unfamiliar with eating by himself just days ago, was now much more steady. He held his bowl with his tiny hands, spooning the cabbage meatball soup-soaked rice into his mouth one bite at a time.

He Yanxin let out a burp, then quickly straightened up in embarrassment.

“That was so delicious! You’re amazing!” he said, giving her a big thumbs-up.

He Chengze didn’t really understand what his father’s gesture meant, but that didn’t stop him from copying it—with both hands.

Song Chengsi was even more clueless. He clumsily mimicked the motion with one hand while still holding a meatball in the other.

Song Yeqing didn’t burp, but she was quite full. These past few days, she’d only been drinking porridge and soup to soothe her stomach. This was the first proper meal she had cooked since transmigrating.

It tasted great, but she’d been worried it might flop.

In the Song family, even a random chef could cook better than her by a long shot. So she usually didn’t embarrass herself by trying to cook.

And during family feasts, it was the elders who took charge in the kitchen. She only ever helped with side tasks. So really, few people had actually tasted her cooking before.

Now that she’d gotten approval from the three of them, Song Yeqing was genuinely happy—and a little proud. She pursed her lips and gave a subtle, modest smile.

But this smile wasn’t the one she normally used to mimic Lady Song when coaxing the kids. It was a real, sincere smile—entirely from Song Yeqing herself.

Even though it vanished in a flash, it still made He Yanxin freeze for a moment. He quickly dropped his head and started clearing the dishes, mumbling “I’ll do the washing” as he rushed outside. Dishwashing—that he knew how to do.

What’s wrong with me? Why is my heart beating a little faster?

Even if Song Yeqing was using the original host’s body, that shouldn’t affect him like this.

Attracted by her looks? But right now, Song Yeqing had a sallow complexion and a skinny frame. Her features were decent, but he couldn’t lie to himself and say she looked stunning.

Maybe he just ate too much today.

He shoved these thoughts out of his head and focused on washing the dishes while muttering to himself.

In this ancient world without dish soap, people actually used plant ash to clean dishes. Under the eaves of the kitchen, there was a bag of clean, sifted ash specifically for this purpose.

But plant ash is alkaline, and it really did clean the dishes quite well—natural, hygienic, and residue-free. A testament to the wisdom of the working people.

After the meal, Song Yeqing took the two brothers into the courtyard and led them in some simple, low-intensity warm-up exercises to aid digestion.

He Yanxin didn’t join in. He just paced around the courtyard, looking here and there, keeping his distance from Song Yeqing.

They had all eaten a little too much at lunch, so she had to make the kids stay up and fight off their drowsiness for half an hour before taking them inside for a nap.

Song Yeqing was rummaging in the cabinet and didn’t notice the older one slipping something from under the pillow and sneaking out.

“Xiaobao, where’s your brother?” she asked the younger son, who was obediently waiting for her to tuck him in.

Song Chengsi pointed toward the door. “He went out.”

Was he going to the toilet? After settling the younger one, she noticed the older hadn’t come back yet.

She’d better go check.

Meanwhile, in the west wing room, a man and a boy were staring at each other.

“Where did you get this?” He Yanxin couldn’t help asking.

“Mom gave it to me. It’s sweet. You eat it, Dad,” the boy said with a soft smile, trying hard not to let his eyes linger on the candy.

His mother only gave him two pieces a day, saying that too many would rot his teeth. His little brother was still too young and could only eat fruit.

He had tasted this delicious candy for the first time and secretly saved one, planning to eat three the next day. But since Dad was home now, he would give one to Dad.

He handed over a classic coconut candy, still in its modern packaging.

He Yanxin: …

Well. At least now he could be sure that the time he saw her pull something out of nowhere wasn’t just a hallucination caused by dying.

A portable storage space? That’s not scientific at all.

Then again, transmigrating here in the first place wasn’t exactly scientific either. He Yanxin had grown numb and accepting of these bizarre occurrences.

Song Yeqing had searched all over and couldn’t find her son. When she saw the west wing door open, she hesitated, then walked in.

Inside, she found He Yanxin squatting on the ground, and the older boy standing in front of him. Who knew what they were doing.

He Chengze noticed her, ran over, and took her hand, ready to go take a nap with his mother. As soon as he moved, He Yanxin—and the object in his hand—were exposed.

Song Yeqing: …

She had underestimated things. The candy wrapper was a brown paper design, and she had thought even if someone saw it, they wouldn’t think it was odd—just some fancy packaging.

But she hadn’t accounted for the fact that He Yanxin’s soul was also from modern times. Of course, he’d recognize it.

Originally, she had planned to observe him a bit longer before revealing her space ability.

But since things had come to this, she might as well lay it all out. She wasn’t the kind to beat around the bush anyway.

She signaled with her eyes for him to wait, then picked up the little traitor who had “sold her out” by skipping his nap.

Not that she blamed him—this wasn’t a big deal.

Still, she did feel a little sour about him using something she gave him to try to please someone else. Yup, she was basically a lemon now.

After helping the boy out of his outer clothes, she couldn’t help but give his butt a light pat—to vent her frustration.

Then she thought she was being childish. Was she seriously jealous of He Yanxin?

She stared at the two children sleeping so sweetly in bed. Did they have some kind of magic? How had she started acting so unlike herself?

With no answers in sight, Song Yeqing stood up, gently closed the door, and walked outside.

(End of Chapter)