Chapter 10

“Mom, what do you want to say?” Yin Xiaoman asked actively.

Zhang Jinfeng did not speak. Instead, she reached into her clothes and fumbled in the pocket of her cotton jacket for a while. Then, she carefully pulled out two still-warm eggs and placed them in her hand.

“Make an egg dish for the kids to eat, and you should have some too.”

After speaking, Zhang Jinfeng sighed and pinched Yin Xiaoman’s arm. “Look at how thin you are. Don’t force yourself. If there’s no food, go ask your father and mother. Don’t mind your sister-in-law; we’re not dead yet! As long as we have something to eat, we won’t let you go hungry.”

Yin Xiaoman looked at the two white eggs in her palm, momentarily dazed.

She didn’t even remember what she had said to Zhang Jinfeng or how she had left.

She hadn’t expected the old couple to treat her like this.

Yesterday, when they gave her the food, Yin Xiaoman hadn’t been very moved.

On one hand, it was something that happened often, according to the memories of the original owner.

On the other hand, she thought the main reason was that the old couple had been too excited when they heard Da Bao speak. Their excitement had probably been the cause.

As grandparents, their fondness for their grandson wasn’t something that required her to be grateful.

However, when Grandma had handed her the eggs earlier, she had said she should eat some too.

The tone and expression were not faked at all. Yin Xiaoman could tell that the words were sincere.

She didn’t care much for the two eggs, but the thought behind it made her feel uncomfortable.

Since she could remember, her parents had passed away, and she had been raised by her Grandma, stumbling through life.

Grandma had treated her well, but there were limits.

After all, in those days, people would try to use all their energy just to fill one mouth. No one would intentionally show affection towards a child.

Entering the palace was a constant struggle, every step taken with caution, always wary, just trying to survive and make it out alive when the time came.

As for the people around her, while she didn’t consider them all enemies, she couldn’t afford to let her guard down.

After more than ten years, Yin Xiaoman didn’t feel there was anyone she could trust.

Her nature was indifferent, her heart alert, and she was highly cautious in everything she did.

She didn’t go out of her way to make friends, nor did she seek shortcuts.

Taking shortcuts led to quick deaths, and that was a truth she had learned over the years.

If the old couple had treated her the way they had treated the original owner, just sending food for the kids now and then, Yin Xiaoman would have considered it normal, even reassuring.

But their sudden kindness towards her made her feel—

A bit at a loss.

Her grip on the eggs tightened, and she instinctively frowned, feeling a surge of irritation in her heart.

“I need to send something back.”

After muttering to herself, she pursed her lips and headed to the kitchen.

Yin Xiaoman first brought out a small stone mill she had found earlier, wiped off the dust, and added a spoonful of coarse cornmeal, grinding it into fine corn flour.

Then, while the two little ones were still asleep, she returned to the small room inside the palace. From the clay pot she had put back earlier, she scooped out half a bowl of milk.

Before leaving, she thought for a moment and casually grabbed a few pieces of milk cake from the table.

Those snacks, left in the small room, seemed untouched by time. Even after a few days, they still felt as fresh as when they had been made, the milk cakes still slightly warm.

After coming out, she poured the milk into the cornmeal, then tore the milk cakes into pieces and kneaded them into the mixture. Yin Xiaoman, with practiced hands, shaped a few small dumplings.

Though they were the same type of dumplings, these looked far more presentable than the ones Da Bao had given her to eat.

She gathered some firewood and started the fire, then steamed the dumplings. Yin Xiaoman went back to the room to wake the two children, getting them up and ready for the day.

When she returned after a while, the dumplings were ready.

She took them out, and following what Zhang Jinfeng had taught her, Yin Xiaoman made a thin white flour porridge. Just before taking it off the stove, she cracked an egg into it, creating a pot of delicious egg noodle soup.

By the time she returned with breakfast, the two little ones had just finished tidying themselves up, ready to help. 

“Go get the bowls and chopsticks. ” Yin Xiaoman instructed Da Bao as she placed the clay pot of noodle soup and the basket of dumplings on the prepared kang table.

However, after a while, she still hadn’t heard anyone move.

She found it a bit strange.

Normally, she wouldn’t need to remind them; the little ones would be quick to move. So why weren’t they responding today?

Curious, she turned her head to look at Da Bao, who was standing by the kang.

What she saw was both children standing frozen, their eyes fixed on the food on the table, staring at it blankly.

“Go sit on the kang. ” she sighed, giving another instruction.

Only then did Da Bao seem to snap out of it, mumbling “Oh” as he turned to run outside, but Yin Xiaoman grabbed his collar and pulled him back.

“Sit on the kang!” She pressed down on his head with a hand and then turned back toward the kitchen.

Erniu reached out to nudge her brother, but her eyes were still glued to the golden dumplings, unwilling to spare him a glance.

It took a long moment before she asked in a dreamy voice, as if still in a daze: “Brother, did Mama make this for us to eat?”

Da Bao pursed his lips, not saying a word.

At this moment, he also felt like he hadn’t fully woken up.

After all, where else could there be such delicious food if not in a dream?

No, Da Bao shook his head again.

He took a deep look at the white flour porridge floating with egg flowers and the dumplings giving off a sweet, unfamiliar scent that he had never smelled before…

Even in a dream, he had never dreamt of such food.

When Yin Xiaoman returned with the bowls and chopsticks, she found the two children still standing by the kang, motionless, staring blankly at the table.

She walked over and gave each of them a slap on the bottom. “What are you dawdling for? It’ll all get cold.”

After speaking, she picked up two dumplings, giving one to each child, and began scooping porridge into their bowls.

The slap made both children snap out of their daze, and they quickly climbed onto the kang.

But after taking a bite of the dumpling, Erniu suddenly started crying in sobs.

Yin Xiaoman stopped what she was doing and raised an eyebrow.

Before she could ask, the little girl suddenly rushed to her side, hugging her arm tightly.

“Mom, is this a dream? This dream won’t end, will it? I don’t want to wake up.”

Erniu buried her face in the sleeve of Yin Xiaoman’s cotton jacket, and the tears quickly soaked through the fabric.

Yin Xiaoman stared at the damp spot for a moment, a little disgusted, before reaching out to poke Erniu’s forehead and push her aside.

She placed a bowl of hot porridge in front of her, then spoke slowly: “Go to bed early tonight. It’s already so late, and you’re still not awake.”

Da Bao, who was lowering his head, couldn’t help but let the corners of his mouth curl upward.  

He was taken aback for a moment.  

Since his father’s sacrifice, how long had it been since he had felt this kind of happiness?  

Picking up the cornbread and taking a bite, Da Bao’s hand froze by his lips, completely motionless.  

The piece in his mouth felt soft and tender, melting instantly as soon as it touched his tongue. It didn’t scratch his throat at all; instead, it carried a sweet flavor and an aroma he had never experienced before.

He was reluctant to swallow it, wishing this feeling could linger in his mouth a little longer.  

Unfortunately, his consciousness lagged behind his instincts. Before he realized it, he had already unknowingly swallowed that piece of cornbread.  

Da Bao’s eyes turned warm and misty.  

At this moment, he felt he could completely understand his sister’s thoughts—  

He was truly afraid this was just a dream, one that he might accidentally wake up from.  

Yin Xiaoman awkwardly ruffled the heads of the siblings, one at a time, and couldn’t help feeling a headache coming on.  

She couldn’t figure out why a simple breakfast could make these two kids cry.  

Eating something better than usual, and it somehow led to this?  

It had to be because they had too much free time on their hands.  

Yin Xiaoman nodded to herself in her heart, convinced that her judgment was correct.  

Back when she had just entered the palace, she hadn’t been much older than Da Bao. Every day, she had been so busy she barely had time to breathe—who had time to shed a few tears now and then?  

She decided she needed to find something for these two kids to do.  

After the meal, Yin Xiaoman declined Da Bao’s offer to help with the chores. Instead, relying on the original owner’s memories, she retrieved a wooden box covered in dust from beside the heated brick bed.  

The box, which clearly hadn’t been touched in a long time, was locked, indicating just how much importance the original family had placed on it.  

Yin Xiaoman reached under the box and, as expected, found a small brass key.  

She unlocked the box and took out the items stored within. On the upper layer were all of the original owner’s textbooks and notes from her early education up to the present. From the very bottom, she pulled out a small booklet that had been bound by hand.  

The booklet was made by stitching together white, rough-edged paper with coarse thread used for sewing shoe soles.  

The white paper had already yellowed with age, and the edges of the booklet were slightly worn. Yet it had been preserved with great care, without a single page curled or damaged.  

It was clear just how much it had once been treasured.  

Yin Xiaoman opened the booklet and discovered that it was a hand-written primer for early education.  

The yellowed pages were filled with large, basic characters written in regular script using a brush.  

Though the characters were simple—such as “人” (person): “口” (mouth), and “手” (hand)—the strokes were strong and full of vigor, revealing a skill far beyond that of an ordinary person.  

She knew this booklet had been written by the original owner’s father as a tool to teach her when she was young. She also knew that a year from now, this cherished keepsake of her father would be destroyed by the people who would storm in and ransack the house.  

It was because of the loss of this most treasured relic that the original owner had fallen gravely ill.  

And it was because she had been bedridden that Da Bao had ventured into the snowy mountains to find food, ultimately losing his life.  

Yin Xiaoman’s fingers gently traced the surface of the booklet’s pages. She resolved to make the most of it while it was still in her hands.  

She motioned for the two children to sit down, wiped the table on the brick bed clean, and spread the booklet open to its first page.  

Pointing to the characters on the page, she asked: “Do you recognize these?”  

Da Bao hesitated for a moment before nodding.