Jiang Le really didn’t want to fall for the system’s tricks, but after the addition of the wish feature, the chances to participate in the lottery became especially precious.  

However, he didn’t impulsively spend his points either. After some thought, he realized that his eldest sister, Jiang Weihong, would likely be visiting soon.  

She would drop by periodically to check on him. Jiang Le hadn’t met this eldest sister yet in person, but from the original body’s memories, she had always been very good to him, bringing nice things with her every time she visited.  

When Jiang Weihong got married, the Jiang family’s financial situation was decent, so she married into a relatively well-off household. But in these times, no matter how good a family’s conditions were, how much better could they really be?  

Jiang Le remembered that the original novel mentioned how Jiang Weihong frequently helped out her birth family, which gradually caused dissatisfaction in her husband’s household and created a rift between the couple.  

Jiang Le didn’t judge anyone’s choices—after all, he didn’t know the full details. He just wanted to do his best to change certain things.  

He recalled that his eldest sister had two children. Jiang Le browsed through the system’s mall and soon found something suitable—Maltose, a “hard currency” of this era.  

Maltose was wildly popular across the country at this time. Jiang Le remembered it being practically a luxury item, costing forty or fifty yuan per can. But to his surprise, in the system mall, a can of Maltose was only 5 Melon Coins.  

Jiang Le muttered, “Guagua, isn’t this way too cheap?”

He had already been shocked enough when he saw that senior formula milk powder was only ten coins, but he never expected Maltose to be this inexpensive.  

Guagua: [Cheap? The Main System has supply channels in every dimension. In some dimensions, Maltose is practically something people look down on—the Main System can get tons of it.] 

By comparison, items like meat, eggs, grain, and oil had much more stable prices.  

Jiang Le didn’t fully understand, but cheap was a good thing. The system even thoughtfully repackaged the items to match the familiar packaging of this dimension, so no one would find it suspicious if he took them out.  

From what he could tell so far, the items exchanged through the system weren’t low-quality. In fact, Jiang Le noticed they were even better than what was available locally.  

Considering the price and quality difference, Jiang Le sighed, “As expected, improving productivity is still the key.” 

Even as he said this, his hands were already swiftly placing an order for a can of Maltose Cream.  

Remembering that his sister’s household also had a mother-in-law, he spent another five Melon Coins to exchange for five soft, old-fashioned sponge cakes. In modern times, Jiang Le had seen many elderly folks in villages love these—they were soft, sweet, and easy to eat for those with poor teeth.  

As for the remaining four Melon Coins, he didn’t overthink it and exchanged them for forty White Rabbit candies.  

Perhaps because he had exchanged for a larger quantity this time, the system even kindly packaged the forty White Rabbit candies together, with a cute little rabbit printed on the wrapper.  

So far, he had exchanged for:  

– Five workbooks  

– One bag of white sugar  

– One bag of brown sugar  

– One can of senior formula milk powder  

– One can of Maltose   

– Five old-fashioned sponge cakes  

– Forty White Rabbit candies  

All of this had only cost him 50 Melon Coins.

It seems the purchasing power of the system’s Melon Coins is pretty strong.  

The old-fashioned sponge cakes were packed in a bag, so there was no worry about them drying out. Jiang Le set aside the things he prepared for Jiang Weihong in his room, while the rest he planned to take out later, claiming he had bought them outside.  

In the afternoon, Jiang Le went to find Yu Hezhong to discuss whether he could cook the braised chicken with mushrooms at his place.  

“I heard that pheasant tastes especially fragrant when cooked…” Jiang Le was wary of running into another situation like Zhang Xiuhua’s meddling, but at Yu Hezhong’s place, there was no need to worry.  

Yu Hezhong’s home wasn’t close to the village, so even if the aroma drifted out, it would dissipate before anyone could catch a whiff.  

Jiang Le was already prepared for Yu Hezhong to refuse. If that happened, he’d just have to think of another way—worst case, he’d cook it openly at home. If someone like Zhang Xiuhua came snooping, he’d just shut them down again.  

The main issue was that the Jiang family’s current situation wasn’t great on paper, so he preferred to keep things low-key where possible.  

To his surprise, Yu Hezhong actually nodded in agreement: “I don’t have any seasonings at home.”  

He said it calmly. Normally, when he cooked, he just threw things together haphazardly, so apart from the bare essentials like salt, he didn’t keep any other seasonings.  

Jiang Le hadn’t expected Yu Hezhong to agree. Instantly overjoyed, he impulsively reached out and ruffled Yu Hezhong’s hair: “Heh, no problem, I’ll bring everything over in a bit.” 

Seeing Yu Hezhong frown at him, Jiang Le’s heart skipped a beat, and he quickly coughed: “Ahem, I’ll go grab the stuff now!”

With that, he dashed off like a startled rabbit.  

Yu Hezhong watched his retreating back with a strange expression, his lips pressing together slightly. This Jiang Le really… 

He reached up to smooth down the hair Jiang Le had messed up, then seemed to think of something, his lips tightening further. It had been a long time since anyone had ruffled his hair like that—it really was a strange feeling.  

Back home, Jiang Le gathered what he needed. Jiang Huan was a little worried: “Little Brother, do you really know how to cook this? Maybe I should come with you.”  

Even though Grandma Jiang had managed to make that delicious spicy rabbit under his guidance, Jiang Huan still wasn’t entirely confident since Jiang Le had never actually cooked it himself.  

It wasn’t that she didn’t trust him—it was just that food was precious these days, and there was no room for mistakes.  

Jiang Le waved her off: “Relax, sis. Just wait and enjoy the meal.”  

Jiang Huan still looked uneasy, but after Jiang Le left, she turned to Grandma Jiang.  

Grandma Jiang just chuckled cheerfully, murmuring: “Our little one can even cook now, so capable!”

Jiang Huan: “…” 

Fine, I’ll stop worrying.

She went out to the yard and flipped over the “grass” Jiang Le had been drying. It was almost completely dried out now, though she had no idea what kind of plant it was.  

Meanwhile, Jiang Le arrived at Yu Hezhong’s door and gave a furtive knock before slipping inside.

Yu Hezhong’s kitchen was spotless—or rather, it was so bare that “spotless” was an understatement.  

Like every rural household, his home had an earthen stove, neatly maintained with firewood stacked tidily beside it. It was clear Yu Hezhong was diligent in his chores.  

Silently, Yu Hezhong stepped aside to let Jiang Le in. Rolling up his sleeves, Jiang Le laid out the ingredients he’d brought with an air of confidence: “Watch me work my magic!”  

Yu Hezhong: “…”  

Braised chicken with mushrooms was best cooked on a traditional earthen stove, but Jiang Le couldn’t manage it alone. So Yu Hezhong sat by the stove, tending the fire.  

Jiang Le waved his spatula while instructing: “Keep it on low heat now, okay?”

Yu Hezhong: “Mm.”  

Though not exactly skilled, Jiang Le didn’t seem completely inexperienced either.  

Soon, Jiang Le added hot water, let out a relieved sigh, and covered the pot: “Alright, now we just let it simmer on low heat.” 

Yu Hezhong nodded, checking that the fire was steady before stopping with the firewood.  

Since they had to keep an eye on the pot, neither left the kitchen. Jiang Le glanced around but found no extra stools. When Yu Hezhong offered his, Jiang Le waved it off: “No need.”  

A moment later, he returned with a wooden stump and plopped down beside Yu Hezhong.  

Yu Hezhong glanced at the almost nonexistent distance between them but said nothing.  

As he adjusted the fire, Jiang Le suddenly nudged him with an elbow. Turning, he found Jiang Le blinking at him.  

Now that Jiang Le was eating better and no longer staying up all night, the dark circles under his eyes had faded. His naturally fair complexion was starting to show, and though he wasn’t fully recovered, it was clear he was a good-looking young man—especially with those clear, lake-like eyes. It was hard not to feel a little fond under that gaze.  

Yu Hezhong’s expression remained neutral: “What?”

Propping his chin on his hand, Jiang Le struck up a conversation: “I never asked—how old are you?”

Yu Hezhong: “Fourteen.”  

Jiang Le paused. Yu Hezhong’s long-term malnutrition had left him small and thin. Honestly, Jiang Le had assumed he was only eleven or twelve. He hadn’t expected him to be just a year younger.  

Suppressing a pang of sympathy, Jiang Le grinned: “Then you should call me ‘big brother.’”  

Yu Hezhong shot him a look before turning away—a clear refusal.  

“I’m fifteen, a whole year older than you!” Jiang Le flaunted his seniority.  

Yu Hezhong remained unmoved.  

Jiang Le: “…” Fine then. 

With a sigh, he conceded: “Alright, guess I’m not worthy.”