The noodles were springy and flavorful, but they were tricky to pick up. Lin Beibei resorted to using his hands, but Jiang Qiuyue stopped him.  

“No grabbing food with your hands at the table. You must be a well-mannered child,” Jiang Qiuyue gently reminded him. Little kids didn’t always know what was proper, so she had to guide them. Only if they repeatedly made the same mistake would she scold them sternly.  

“I know, Mom, but I really can’t pick them up,” Lin Beibei said, frustrated. “Look, Nannan can’t either—and neither can Dad!”  

Right on cue, the noodles slipped from Lin Zhengrong’s chopsticks.  

Jiang Qiuyue glanced over, then helped the children with their noodles before serving Lin Zhengrong a portion. “Alright, all three little ones, eat up now. Make sure you get full.”  

Lin Zhengrong’s face warmed imperceptibly at being called a “little one.” The noodles in his bowl seemed even tastier now. He chewed slowly, savoring them for a long moment before swallowing.  

While the Lin family ate, smoke rose from chimneys all over the village.  

Many had seen Lin Zhengrong delivering walnut cakes earlier, and the families who received them were delighted. When Chen Meiru returned home, she shared half with her family and saved the rest to take to her parents’ house the next day.

Chen Meiru had just finished washing the dishes when Zhou Cuicui suddenly arrived.  

“Sister Meiru,” Zhou Cuicui called out awkwardly.  

“What’s wrong?” Chen Meiru had thought Zhou Cuicui would never speak to her again after their harsh exchange earlier that day. Seeing her now, she assumed Zhou Cuicui had let it go and felt a flicker of happiness. “Have you eaten yet?”  

“Yes, Sister Meiru, I…” Zhou Cuicui hesitated, looking embarrassed. After a long pause, she finally whispered, “It’s just… Daxi saw your kids eating walnut cakes and has been throwing a tantrum for some. I couldn’t calm him down. Could you… spare a little?”  

Chen Meiru’s smile faded. So she had come for the walnut cakes. In the past, Chen Meiru often shared food with Zhou Cuicui’s family. But perhaps because of their earlier argument, hearing Zhou Cuicui ask for something again didn’t sit right with her. Still, she broke off half and handed it over. “Dazhu brought these, and we don’t have many left. Let Daxi have a taste.”  

“Dazhu gave them to you?”  

“Yeah. After he cut ties with Wang Chunhua, my Haizhi helped him out a lot. Dazhu’s a man who remembers kindness—he sent some to each of our families.”  

Seeing that it was almost dark, Chen Meiru said, “You should head back before Daxi starts crying again.” She really didn’t like that child—every time he saw other kids eating something, he’d throw a fit. No manners at all.  

Hearing that Lin Zhengrong had given walnut cakes to several families, Zhou Cuicui unconsciously crushed the piece in her hand. By the time she realized it, the cake had crumbled into pieces.  

Stepping out of the Hu family’s gate, she glanced at the mess in her palm, then turned her hand and let it all fall to the ground.  

When she got home, her son Daxi ran over. “Mom, where’s the walnut cake? Did you not get any?”  

“No,” Zhou Cuicui replied emptily.  

“I don’t care! I want walnut cake! Why didn’t Uncle Dazhu give us any? I want it!” Chen Daxi immediately threw himself on the ground, kicking and screaming.  

But this time, Zhou Cuicui didn’t soothe him. Instead, she grabbed him and started hitting him. “Eat, eat, I’ll give you something to eat! You want everything—why don’t you go eat shit?”  

She slapped him several times, leaving Daxi stunned. His mother had never treated him like this before—she always coddled him. When the sting on his backside finally registered, he wailed even louder.  

But hearing her son mention Lin Zhengrong again only made Zhou Cuicui hit him harder.  

From the kitchen, Chen Ping heard his son’s cries and limped over. “What are you doing, hitting the boy?”  

He pulled Daxi into his arms. “If you’re mad, take it out on me. Don’t take it out on him.”  

“You have the nerve to say that! If you weren’t so useless, my son wouldn’t have to beg for scraps!” Zhou Cuicui pointed at Chen Ping’s face. “Why didn’t you just die back then? Worthless!”  

Chen Ping’s expression darkened, but it was true—he was crippled, earned fewer work points than a woman, and had no standing in the house. All he could do was endure her scolding.  

Zhou Cuicui stormed into the bedroom and slammed the door, leaving Chen Ping to sleep with their son.

The next morning, Zhou Cuicui stormed out without even making breakfast.  

Meanwhile, Jiang Qiuyue was still asleep. Lin Zhengrong had a habit of waking up early to exercise, so nowadays, he was the one who prepared breakfast.  

Breakfast was simple—sweet potatoes boiled with coarse rice, paired with pickled vegetables.  

By the time Jiang Qiuyue got up, the children had already set the table.  

“Mom, the river snails yesterday were so good! Can I go gather some with Zhuangzhuang today?” Lin Beibei asked between sips of porridge.  

Jiang Qiuyue didn’t even think before refusing. “You’re too young to play by the river. Tell Zhuangzhuang that if he dares to go, I’ll make sure his grandma spanks him.”  

“Okay…” Lin Beibei sighed softly, but he was a good boy who always listened to his mother.  

Seeing his son’s disappointment, Lin Zhengrong suggested, “After breakfast, I’ll take you fishing. You and Nanan can watch from the riverbank.”  

At the mention of fishing, Lin Beibei perked up—but he still needed his mother’s approval. He looked at her expectantly.  

Only because Lin Zhengrong would be supervising did Jiang Qiuyue nod. “Make sure they stay far from the water. If you catch fish, great. If not, no big deal—just treat it as playtime. I’m going to borrow Sister Meiru’s sewing machine today, so you’ll be on your own.”  

“Don’t worry, I’ll catch so many fish you won’t be able to finish them all!” Lin Zhengrong declared. “We’ll have enough to smoke and store!”  

Jiang Qiuyue didn’t think much of it. She assumed he was just being confident, like all fishermen before setting out.  

After breakfast, she packed fabric, needles, and thread into a basket. Just as she was about to leave, someone outside suddenly bellowed, “Jiang Qiuyue, you bitch, get your ass out here!”  

The voice was both familiar and distant. The moment she realized who it was, she dropped the basket without hesitation, grabbed a wrist-thick wooden stick, and charged outside.  

“No need for you to handle this.” Lin Zhengrong caught her wrist, the softness of her skin sending an electric jolt through him. He took the stick from her and instinctively lowered his voice. “I’m here. Just watch.”