All the goods were moved into the kitchen, instantly making the space feel packed and full.

Qin Ye knew that Li Shuping and her daughter hadn’t eaten yet, so after unloading the stuff, he planned to leave and come back after they’d finished breakfast.

Just as he was about to leave, Li Shuping called out to him.

“Xiao Ye, have you had breakfast yet?” Li Shuping asked with a smile.

“I— I already ate,” he replied, thinking of the thin porridge he’d cooked that morning.

“Have a fried dough cake anyway.” Li Shuping handed him one of the golden, crispy cakes.

Qin Ye lowered his eyes, looking at the dough cake.

His throat bobbed slightly as he swallowed, and he waved his hand in refusal. “No need, Auntie Li, I’ve already eaten.”

“I know you’ve eaten, but just take another one. I bought an extra. Don’t be shy with me — you’ll be helping me with work later anyway.” Li Shuping pushed the dough cake wrapped in oiled paper into his hands.

“Th-thank you.” The dough cake was still warm; even through the paper, he could feel the heat.

But the thing warming him most was not in his hands — it was in his heart.

“I’ll head back for now and come find you later.” With that, Qin Ye lowered his head and left.

“Mom, what’s Qin Ye going to help you with?” Lin Xiaoyu asked curiously.

Li Shuping explained, “Our family is setting up a dumpling stall. Isn’t it cheaper to buy ingredients directly from the countryside? But since I’m busy at the stall every day, I don’t have time to go buy from the villages. So I asked him to help me. I’ll pay him a little for the effort.”

Lin Xiaoyu frowned. “Mom, why did you think of asking him for help?”

“A few days ago, when I went to the secondhand market, I saw him being bullied over a misunderstanding. He looked pretty pitiful, so I helped him out…”

Pitiful?

Qin Ye?

Her mom really thought he was pitiful?

“… I heard people say the kid’s life hasn’t been easy — a drunk father, a runaway mother, and he’s been supporting the household since he was barely a teenager.”

“This morning, I saw him going out, probably to the supply and marketing cooperative to look for unloading work. I figured, since I can’t go to the countryside myself, I might as well ask him to do it. This way, he can earn some money, and I save myself some trouble.”

“You’re really that trusting of him?” Lin Xiaoyu asked skeptically.

Qin Ye didn’t exactly have the best reputation, though she knew he was actually a good person.

Li Shuping looked at her daughter and said, “The boy’s eyes are clean — just like yours. You can tell he’s a good kid. A person’s eyes can’t lie.”

Not like Lin Guodong and Lin Jianshe, those two ungrateful bastards — they didn’t have clean eyes.

Lin Xiaoyu, suddenly praised, felt shy and rubbed her face awkwardly.

“Alright, let’s eat breakfast.”

…

Qin Ye returned home holding the dough cake.

His father, Qin Dashan, who was still lying in bed, suddenly opened his eyes when he smelled the aroma.

“Heh heh, you got dough cake? Wild brat, give me some.”

Qin Ye glanced at him and tore the cake in half, tossing one piece over.

He felt no affection for this drunkard anymore.

Their father-son bond had long been beaten out of existence during countless nights of drunken abuse.

The only reason Qin Ye worked himself to death to support this man and keep the house together was just so he himself could still have a home.

Qin Dashan didn’t mind.

He scarfed it down in two bites.

“Mmm, tasty. If only there were a bit of white liquor to go with it. Xiao Ye, give your dad some money — I’ll go buy a little drink.” Qin Dashan’s alcohol cravings were flaring up again.

Only when asking for money to buy liquor did Qin Dashan bother to call him “Xiao Ye.”

Qin Ye glared at him sharply. “You already stole the rent money to buy alcohol — where do you think I have any left? You’d better pray I can scrape together enough to cover next month’s rent, or you’ll be living under a bridge.”

Actually, the medical compensation Auntie Li had helped him get was already enough to cover next month’s rent, but he had to say this — if the drunk knew he had money, he’d just find ways to steal it for booze.

Qin Dashan widened his yellowed eyes and shouted, “Under a bridge, huh? Fine! Big winds, nice and cool!”

Qin Ye looked at his own father with disgust.

This drunkard was truly beyond saving.

Once he saw Lin Xiaoyu leave for school, Qin Ye headed over to Room Five.

“I need you to go to the countryside and get sixty eggs, ten catties of carrots, ten catties of chives. If you see good-quality ginger and garlic, pick up five or six catties of each too.” Li Shuping handed Qin Ye five yuan.

Among these, the eggs were the most expensive. Carrots and chives were only two or three cents per catty, while ginger and garlic were a bit pricier at five cents per catty.

Five yuan was more than enough.

Qin Ye quickly did the math in his head and tried to hand back one yuan. “I don’t need this much; four yuan will be plenty.”

But Li Shuping pushed it back to him. “Better to have a bit extra, just in case. Whatever’s left, you return to me. I trust you.”

As the old saying goes — don’t use people you doubt, and don’t doubt the people you use.

Qin Ye was speechless.

He hadn’t expected anyone to trust him like this.

With a big basket on his back, Qin Ye headed out. Meanwhile, Li Shuping busied herself. Today she planned to sell nearly double the dumplings compared to yesterday, with two kinds of fillings, so time was even tighter.

Chopping the beef filling took quite a bit of effort — it took her over forty minutes just to mince all the meat.

The rhythmic sound of her chopping echoed through Courtyard No. 23 like a percussion performance.

As soon as the beef was mixed with celery, ginger-garlic juice, salt, and soy sauce, the delicious aroma wafted out, reaching the noses of several nearby households.

“Mom, do you smell that?” Huang Qionghua sniffed and turned to her mother-in-law, who was sitting by the door.

Old Madam Yuan swallowed dryly. “I smell it — that’s the scent of beef and celery dumpling filling.”

“Wow, is Li Shuping really selling beef and celery dumplings today?”

Huang Qionghua’s mouth watered nonstop. She hadn’t eaten beef dumplings in years; just thinking of the taste made her drool.

Old Madam Yuan wiped the corner of her mouth. “Beef dumplings must be more expensive than chive-and-egg ones. Probably no one will be willing to splurge.”

She certainly wouldn’t.

But Huang Qionghua thought to herself: Not necessarily.

After all, they’d said yesterday that Li Shuping’s dumplings wouldn’t sell, yet she’d sold out early and packed up.

At eleven o’clock, Li Shuping was finally done and ready to head out.

Three of the big round bamboo trays were filled with beef-and-celery dumplings, and two were packed with chive-and-egg dumplings.

She stacked the five trays together, covered the top one with gauze, and tied them securely with rope to prevent slipping.

The courtyard residents watched as she single-handedly loaded everything onto the tricycle outside. Some looked on with disdain, some with envy, and others with outright jealousy.

“You’re late today! Several people already came by asking for you — I told them you’d be here a bit later,” Zhou Cuilan said, quickly stepping forward to help.

“Wow, you’ve prepared so much today — and there’s meat!” Zhou Cuilan’s voice rose sharply when she caught the scent of the beef.

Li Shuping smiled. “Beef-and-celery dumplings. I’ll treat you to a bowl later.”

“Oh, how can I accept that?” Zhou Cuilan swallowed hard.

“It’s nothing — you’re helping me out too, aren’t you?”

“Alright then, I’ll bring you a couple of eggs later,” Zhou Cuilan grinned, no longer standing on ceremony.

Before the pot water even started boiling, the retired teacher, Mr. Wang, who’d eaten at the stall yesterday for both lunch and dinner, showed up again.

Sitting on a low stool, Wang Xueming said, “Same as yesterday — one bowl of chive dumplings.”

Li Shuping smiled. “Today we have beef-and-celery dumplings, fifty cents a bowl.”

Wang Xueming’s eyes went wide like copper bells. “Beef dumplings?! I want beef! Two bowls!”

He held up two fingers — beef dumplings like this weren’t even available at the state-run restaurant. Of course he had to eat more while he could.