Back when Jiang Qiuyue got off work, she loved watching videos about cooking, gardening, and foraging for wild mushrooms. Whether she ate them or not wasn’t the point—it was the thrill of the hunt!  

“Aunt Niu, are you going again tomorrow? Can I come with you?” Jiang Qiuyue grabbed Aunt Niu’s hands excitedly.  

Aunt Niu assumed Jiang Qiuyue just wanted to gather some food for the family and smiled. “Of course! Why wouldn’t you be welcome?”  

The next morning after breakfast, Jiang Qiuyue took the two kids to the Niu household.  

Niu Zhuangzhuang proudly showed off. “See the ones drying in the yard? Half of those were picked by me. Pretty impressive, huh?”  

“So impressive! Brother Zhuangzhuang is the best!” Lin Beibei delivered the praise with full enthusiasm, not just with words but also a thumbs-up. “When we go into the mountains, can you help me find mushrooms too?”  

“Sure! Just stick close to me, and I’ll make sure you find plenty.” Niu Zhuangzhuang, thoroughly flattered, kept glancing back at Lin Beibei and his sister as they set out.  

For Jiang Qiuyue, mushroom foraging was pure fun. But when she saw clusters upon clusters of mushrooms in the forest, she couldn’t tear her eyes away.  

Following Aunt Niu’s lead, she quickly filled half her basket—red ones, brown ones, some just sprouting, plump and irresistibly pinchable.  

By midday, Jiang Qiuyue’s basket was full, and so were the kids’ little pails.  

They all went back to the Niu house to have Aunt Niu help sort through them—better safe than sorry when it came to wild mushrooms.  

“These red ones—wipe them down with a damp cloth, dry them, and you can use them in soup or steamed eggs. The black ones are called ‘charcoal mushrooms.’ They’re a bit bitter, best stir-fried with chilies. And these…”  

Aunt Niu patiently explained each type. “If you can’t finish them all, dry the extras for later. Around here, we get two mushroom seasons a year. Anyone with free time heads into the mountains.”  

Back home, Jiang Qiuyue washed the charcoal mushrooms first. They needed to be boiled before cooking. Aunt Niu had advised adding a handful of rice to the water—if the rice didn’t change color, the mushrooms were safe.  

Once boiled, she heated oil in the wok, tossed in minced garlic until fragrant, then added the mushrooms and chilies. Just a bit of salt and soy sauce—too many seasonings would overpower the mushrooms’ natural umami.  

“Mom, it smells so good!” Lin Beibei was practically drooling. “I’ll help set the table!”  

A wooden frame had been set up outside the kitchen. Jiang Qiuyue had planted two hyacinth bean vines beside it—in another month, they’d climb the frame, providing shade underneath.  

For now, they ate under the kitchen eaves. Lin Beibei eagerly arranged the stools and table, then took his little sister to wash their hands.  

Jiang Qiuyue had also made egg drop soup. Once seated, she served everyone a heaping bowl of rice. The charcoal mushrooms did have a slight bitterness, but that unique texture melded perfectly with their savory richness, waking up every taste bud.  

Now she understood why people still risked mushroom foraging every year, even with the occasional hallucinations.  

The mushrooms disappeared quickly. Jiang Qiuyue patted her full stomach contentedly. Without farm work under the sun, her skin had lightened, and her complexion looked much healthier.  

Life’s too short not to treat yourself well—even as a mom, you deserve to stay happy and glowing.  

After Lin Beibei finished washing the dishes, he ran over eagerly. “Mom, are we going mushroom picking again this afternoon?”  

Jiang Qiuyue glanced up at the blazing sun and shook her head. “Not a chance. That heat? No thanks.”

Foraging for mushrooms was just a hobby, not her job—she only needed enough to eat, and there were plenty more in the mountains anyway.  

“You two aren’t allowed to go by yourselves, got it?” Seeing Lin Beibei’s instant disappointment, Jiang Qiuyue hardened her tone. “Without an adult, if you fall into a ravine, no one would even know.”  

No mountain trip, no TV or radio for entertainment—after a moment’s thought, Jiang Qiuyue decided to teach the kids how to read and write instead.  

The original Jiang Qiuyue had graduated from elementary school, which was more than enough to teach the basics.  

She picked up a stick and began writing characters in the dirt. “Watch closely. Follow my strokes one by one.”  

Ten minutes later, seeing Lin Beibei and Lin Nannan already able to write their own names, Jiang Qiuyue felt a swell of pride.  

Looks like she wouldn’t need to tutor them much—they were naturals!  

Not bad at all. The household was split, the living allowance increased, and even though Lin Nannan still refused to speak, both kids were well-behaved.  

Jiang Qiuyue was certain her days ahead would be smooth sailing.  

Meanwhile, Lin Zhengrong had just received another letter from Jiang Qiuyue.  

Dried shrimp?  

Dried scallops?  

Fruit?  

And they’d split from the family?  

What was going on? Hadn’t he just sent cured meat and sausages home?  

Lin Zhengrong was baffled.  

Had brigade leader Hu not gotten his telegram? Why hadn’t he replied yet?  

“Zhengrong, why the frown?” Chen Guowei returned with lunch. “The canteen had stewed meat today—I barely managed to grab some. Don’t say I never share. Whatever’s on your mind can wait until after eating.”  

Before he finished speaking, someone knocked, announcing a telegram for Lin Zhengrong at the mailroom.  

By the time Chen Guowei processed the words, a gust of wind blew past him—Lin Zhengrong was already sprinting away.  

“What telegram has him in such a rush?” Muttering, Chen Guowei dug out Lin Zhengrong’s lunchbox and saved half the meat for him.  

Lin Zhengrong ran straight to the mailroom. The telegram contained just two words:  

It’s true.

Telegrams charged by the character. He’d opted for this costly method thinking it was faster than letters: Is it true what Jiang Qiuyue said about the Lin family mistreating her and the kids?

Yet it had still taken this long to get a reply.  

Holding the slip of paper, Lin Zhengrong’s emotions churned.  

Years of accumulated unused family leave weighed on him. After a pause, he knocked on the political commissar’s office door.  

“Ah, Zhengrong! Perfect timing—I was just about to call you in. Got some excellent news for you. Sit, sit!”