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“A’Ning, did you catch these on the mountain? These things can fly—they’re hard to catch, and you managed to get three?”
“Oh, my precious granddaughter, you’re truly amazing. Such fine things should be sold—our family can’t afford to eat these.”
Mrs. Zhang hefted the basket, feeling its weight. Each bird could easily fetch eighty to a hundred coins.
“Just now, Grandpa was saying the children need nourishment, and here we have it ready-made. Let the whole family have a taste.”
Spring offered little in the way of good food, and many households went months without meat.
The Song family had it even harder. Song Xing’s studies at the academy cost a considerable sum each month, and after Song Feng and his son met with misfortune, the family had spent a fair amount hiring hunters to search the deep mountains for them.
In recent years, only during festivals had they been able to eat a few thinly sliced pieces of meat.
“You greedy girl, nourishment doesn’t mean indulging like this.”
Song Dashan affectionately stroked the glossy feathers of the pheasants and immediately decided:
“Old woman, go home and pick out a hen that doesn’t lay eggs well. Stew it with one of these wild birds. Second daughter-in-law, bring two catties of rice when you come back, and bring all the children too. We’ll all eat at the main house.”
“Second son, you and I will make a trip to town to help A’Ning sell these pheasants. This pair—a male and a female—will sell well.”
With the old man’s orders given, the family obeyed without question. Mrs. Liu’s gaze toward Song Anning had changed entirely. Never had she imagined that as the second aunt, she’d now be able to eat meat thanks to Song Anning.
The original host had only been to town once in her life, and that was four or five years ago. Now that she had some silver, Song Anning wanted to go along.
But then she reconsidered—with the family just having gone through hardship, the two little ones couldn’t be left without her. So she asked Song Nian to buy a few catties of rice and salt for her on his return.
With tasks clearly divided, the family happily dispersed to their duties. Song Anning stayed home to boil water and clean the grime off Song Zeyuan.
Song Zeyuan could hold back no longer. His lips quivered, tears and snot smeared across his face.
“A’Yuan, does it hurt somewhere? Elder Sister will be gentler.”
In her past life, Song Anning had been an only child and had never cared for children. Faced with a weeping five-year-old, she was at a loss for how to comfort him.
“A’Yuan doesn’t hurt. A’Yuan is a man—he’s not afraid of pain.”
Despite his words, his tears only grew larger. The little one wiped his face haphazardly and tugged at Song Anning’s sleeve.
“It’s just… I can’t believe Elder Sister stood up for us. A’Yuan is happy.”
Song Anning’s heart softened. She gently pulled Song Zeyuan and Song Anyue into her arms.
“If something like this happens again, run if you can’t fight. Find Grandpa and Grandma, find Second Uncle, find Elder Sister—no matter what, make sure you’re safe first.”
“Now that Elder Sister is here, no one will dare bully you anymore. I’ll protect you both and raise you plump and healthy.”
“But you mustn’t bully others either, or Elder Sister will be angry.”
“Mm!!!”
The two little ones beamed with radiant smiles. Before, they had envied other children who had older siblings to defend them. Now, they too had an elder sister to watch over them.
Then, as if remembering something, Song Zeyuan cautiously asked:
“Elder Sister… you won’t hit me and A’Yue like you hit them, will you…?”
Song Anning’s earlier display had startled even the adults, let alone two five-year-olds.
Song Anning carried a basin of water to the doorway and, upon hearing Song Zeyuan’s question, couldn’t resist teasing them with a playful threat:
“If you two don’t behave and dare mention stealing again, I’ll strip you naked and tie you to the big tree in the village.”
“!!!”
Song Zeyuan and Song Anyue immediately covered their mouths, shaking their heads in terror. Their Elder Sister was truly frightening—no more talk of stealing, never again.
Mrs. Liu returned home and fetched some white rice she had been saving for a special occasion, then took the four children to the old house.
But the courtyard gate was bolted—no one was home.
“Where could they have gone?”
Meanwhile, Mrs. Zhang strolled leisurely through the village with a pheasant in hand, making sure to pass by the “Big Banyan Tree Intelligence Hub” near the Lin family’s doorstep.
“Auntie Zhang, where did you get that pheasant? Rare to see one alive like that!”
Mrs. Zhang grinned and swung the pheasant. “My eldest granddaughter caught it—A’Ning, that is. Said it was to honor me and the old man.
That girl, really—such a rare thing, and instead of selling it for money, she insists we nourish ourselves with it.”
“Anning? You’re not joking, are you?”
Mrs. Zhang pinched the young man’s arm hard. “You little brat, don’t believe your granny? The pheasant’s right here! My granddaughter’s got real talent.”
“…”
The man thought of Song Anning from earlier and muttered skeptically, “Hmph, she’s got some skills, I guess…”
Over on the other side, Song Dashan and Song Nian weren’t in a hurry to head to town either, deliberately taking routes where crowds gathered.
“Brother Song, where you off to?”
“How’d you know my A’Ning caught a pheasant? Look how plump it is…”
“…”
“Uncle Song, have you eaten yet?”
“Yep, this is the pheasant my A’Ning caught. She even gave me one to honor me…”
“Erhe, come by my place this afternoon. Let’s have a drink and taste the pheasant A’Ning caught.”
Villagers: “…”
Song Nian: “…”
Despite the midday sun, the old couple fearlessly paraded the pheasant through half the village, strutting like peacocks in full display, showing off to anyone they met.
Song Dashan was usually a man of few words, quietly going about his work. In his thirty years, Song Nian had only seen his father act like this twice—the first time being three years prior, when his third brother, Song Xing, passed the Literary Candidate exam.
Back at home, Song Anning washed the two little ones, coaxed them to sleep, then sat by the kitchen door, simmering medicine on the small clay stove. By the time they returned from the old house for dinner, the medicine would be ready.
But something felt missing.
She thought and thought—then it hit her. Where was the System?
That chatterbox System, usually so talkative, had fallen into eerie silence ever since she came down the mountain.
“System, come out!”
“…”
“System won’t come out. System’s scared Master will slap me. Scared, ing…”
“You don’t even have a face. So? Wasn’t your Master impressive today?”
“…”
“Pretty impressive, but System’s still a child. System’s scared.”
The System’s voice did sound like that of a little girl.
Song Anning’s mischievous side flared, and she smirked. “Behave from now on, and maybe perform a little ‘drop gold coins’ trick for your Master now and then. When I lose it, I’ll even hit myself.”
“…”
The System was starting to regret its choice. Why had it picked this wicked woman? It was terrified—waaah!
After setting the medicine to boil, Song Anning sorted out the wild herbs from her basket and took them to Lin Dafu’s house, earning nine copper coins.
With the system’s recycling feature, she didn’t rely on selling wild herbs to make a fortune. Selling them at the Lin household ensured the whole village would know, making the money legitimate without her having to fabricate stories to explain it over and over.
By the time she returned from the village, the two little ones had woken up and were sitting on small wooden stools by the door, rubbing their eyes sleepily.
Adorably dazed, Song Anning couldn’t resist—she reached out and pinched their chubby little cheeks.
Hmm… the texture was perfect. If she fattened them up a bit more, it would feel even better.