Chapter Twelve

Inside the house, Third Aunt Bi heard the commotion and came out smiling. When she saw the two bags of pastries in Bi Chunliu’s hands, her smile grew even warmer and more eager.

“Oh my, look at you kids, still so young, why bring things like this? You’re at the age when you need to spend money the most, and the family just hosted an event recently. Really now, you’re treating your uncle and aunt like outsiders, aren’t you?” she said as she reached to take the pastries.

The siblings finally got a clear look at Third Aunt, still managing to stand tall despite her “battle damage.” From far away they hadn’t noticed, but now it was obvious—clumps of her hair had been yanked out, leaving a bald patch, and her face bore several bloody scratches. Ouch—that fight had been brutal! Bi Chunliu felt secretly relieved. Good thing she hadn’t stepped into the front lines earlier.

Bi Weiguo immediately turned his head and said,
“Third Aunt, we’re not treating you like outsiders, but that’s not for you and Third Uncle—it’s for Grandma.”
If they let Third Aunt have it, would there be any chance for them to taste it?

Hearing her eldest grandson’s words, Old Madam Guo was overjoyed, grinning so wide her gums showed. She quickly snatched the pastries for herself, still not sparing Bi Chunliu a glance. She turned to Third Aunt and scolded,
“Don’t you know any better?”

Then, turning back to Bi Weiguo, she beamed:
“My grandson really understands me, so thoughtful. He knows his grandma loves pastries and brought them just for me, didn’t he?”

“Hehe, that’s right. Grandma, I’m already hungry. What are we having for dinner?”

“Meat, of course. Knowing how much my eldest grandson likes meat, I had your third uncle buy half a jin yesterday. It’s all saved just for you and Guangyao to eat.” Old Madam Guo patted his hand, a picture of doting affection.

Watching Third Aunt’s unhappy expression, Bi Qiuguo almost laughed out loud. She asked innocently,
“Third Aunt, what happened to your face? Did Third Uncle hit you? And you didn’t fight back? If that ever happens again, just call me—I’ll definitely take your side.”

Third Aunt’s face darkened as her eyes darted over.
“Hey, you wretched girl, what nonsense are you spouting? I don’t need your help! This has nothing to do with your Third Uncle. I just had a little scuffle with Wang Lao’er’s wife… just a small matter.”

“Enough! Don’t talk such nonsense in front of the kids!” Third Uncle Bi came out of the house, cutting her off.

“Chunliu, you’re back?” he said with a cheerful smile. “Come inside quickly. Dinner will be ready soon—you came at just the right time.”

“Isn’t that so, Third Uncle?” Bi Weiguo chimed in. “How does that saying go? ‘Better to come at the right time than early,’ haha. Our teacher just taught that to someone in class yesterday.”

Old Madam Guo kept smiling at her eldest grandson and praised him,
“My grandson truly is learned—just yesterday the teacher said it, and today you’re already using it!”

“Hehehe…”

Bi Chunliu and Bi Xiahe: …

Third Uncle, seeing that his mother only had eyes for the eldest grandson and had completely forgotten her own instructions, swallowed his words and muttered dryly,
“Don’t just stand there—come in,” then turned back into the house.

Third Aunt had rushed home earlier from the fields because Old Madam Guo had told her to cook, but now she’d gotten nothing out of it. Thinking of how she’d also been docked three days’ work points, her face darkened. She shouted,
“Wang Di! Wang Di! That useless girl—where’s she gone off to now? It’s time to eat and she’s not even back to help me cook! Just waits around to eat, that’s all she knows.”

From inside, Third Uncle called out,
“Enough, enough. Don’t shout. I told her to finish the bit of work I had left. She’ll probably be back soon.”

What a ‘good father’… Bi Chunliu thought drily. She wondered if Wang Di would even make it back before dinner ended.

At the table, Bi Chunliu and Bi Xiahe each received a coarse grain bun. The wheat‑and‑corn steamed buns and meat went only to Bi Weiguo, Bi Guangyao, and—apart from two slices of meat for himself and Old Madam Guo—no one else got any.

Bi Qiuguo, jealous and biting down hard on her chopsticks, regretted not persuading Big Sis to hold back one packet of the pastries. Wuwuwu, now I’ll have to stay hungry all the way until we go home…

Bi Chunliu swallowed the rough coarse bun with difficulty, each bite chased down with a sip of watery porridge that was hardly thicker than water. Without liquid, there was no way the bun could go down her throat—it was so dry and scratchy. She hadn’t eaten such harsh food in years. For health reasons she had once made coarse grain buns and breads herself, but those had been carefully ground and refined.

Ah… this is why they say it’s hard to go from luxury back to frugality. Bi Chunliu sighed inwardly. She really needed to think about how to earn more money. If it was only this kind of food, she’d never get used to it.