After Sizhe entered the house, Mother Lin asked him to come over to get measured. “Don’t take your aunt’s words to heart—that’s just how she is.”

Sizhe gave a wry smile but said nothing, letting Mother Lin lift his arms and legs as she measured him. Father Lin, relieved that his grandchildren were no longer going hungry, was in good spirits and asked about the Nan Family.

When Zhou Wei came in, she stayed silent while Siqi kept chattering about all the delicious food they’d eaten at the Nan Family’s place. “There was meat! Big chicken legs! And dumplings! Grandma and Grandpa were so nice!”

Father Lin and Mother Lin were overjoyed to hear this. When their second son’s wife had married into the family, her relatives hadn’t been particularly welcoming, and the elderly couple had worried they might mistreat the children.

Zhou Wei’s eyes practically gleamed with envy when she heard how much meat they’d eaten over the past two days. “Did you bring any back with you?”

Siqi was about to say yes—that their mother had bought plenty—but Sizhe cut in first. “Grandma made wild herb dumplings this morning and gave us the leftovers, but there weren’t many, and we finished them at lunch.”

Zhou Wei was disappointed, but since she couldn’t have the dumplings, she turned her attention to the fabric instead.

“Mother, is Second Sister-in-law making clothes for the kids? If there’s any fabric left, could you make a shirt for Sizhong too?”

Father Lin’s expression darkened. Before their second son had married, the two children had needed meals here, so letting Zhou Wei take advantage was somewhat understandable. But now, things were different.

“If you want clothes for Sizhong, bring your own fabric. Don’t freeload off your brother’s family—it’s not like you’re short on money. Haven’t we given you enough support?”

Zhou Wei wasn’t a bad person, just sharp-tongued. “Is that how you see it? I’m saving up to marry off my two sons! Second Brother’s family is well-off—what’s wrong with helping out their own kin?”

Eldest Brother Lin arrived just in time to hear this and was instantly furious. “Help out how? Have you no shame? You grumbled when the kids came over to eat, and now you have the nerve to ask for things? Get out of here!”

He dragged his wife away, too embarrassed to even meet Sizhe’s eyes, feeling utterly humiliated.

Mother Lin sighed. “You two should head home. The roads are hard to walk in the dark.”

Every family had its troubles. The Lin household was relatively well-off, with each child having their own house, yet petty conflicts never ceased. The elders could only try to smooth things over—there wasn’t much else they could do.

On the way back, Sizhe sternly reminded his sister never to mention any treats they had at home, not even to their grandparents.

The next day, Nan Sheng went to find Uncle Liu, the ox-cart driver, and gave him money to bring back some good liquor.

Uncle Liu boomed, “Lin Han’s wife, are you hosting guests? You should buy something cheaper—no need to waste money.”

Nan Sheng explained, “No, Uncle Liu. I’m making medicinal wine for Lin Han. Good liquor works better!”

Hearing this, Uncle Liu laughed and praised Nan Sheng for being so thoughtful. That afternoon, he brought back three pounds of fine liquor, costing nine yuan.

Handing it over, he couldn’t help but eye it longingly, wondering what three-yuan-per-pound liquor tasted like. Nan Sheng promised to let him try some once the medicinal wine was ready, and Uncle Liu left in high spirits.

Nan Sheng didn’t know how to make medicinal wine, so that evening, she minced pork cracklings for steamed dumplings, planning to invite the elderly couple over. She used lard in the filling, making it just as tasty as meat dumplings.

When Sizhe returned from school, the dumplings were just ready.

Nan Sheng plated eight vegetable dumplings. “Big Kid, take this to your grandparents and ask them to come over for dumplings. And give this plate to your uncle.”

Hearing from her daughter how kind Uncle’s sons had been, Nan Sheng didn’t mind sharing some food as thanks for their care of Sizhe and Siqi.

Sizhe washed his face and carried the dumplings out, openly telling anyone he passed that they were for his uncle. Meanwhile, Nan Sheng started preparing cold dishes.

Siqi grinned. “Mom, can we have sugar-mixed tomatoes?”

Nan Sheng swatted her bottom playfully. “Go pick four from the garden, and I’ll make it for you.”

Siqi scampered off happily—she loved the sweet-and-sour juice at the bottom, which tasted just like canned fruit.

Zhou Wei, who’d complained about missing out on dumplings the day before, now wore a cold expression when Sizhe brought her some, still resentful about the fabric.

Sicheng stood up to take the dumplings, washed the empty plate, and handed it back. “Tell your mom thanks for us. Her cooking smells amazing.”

Uncle Lin Jianguo said, “No need to trouble your grandparents. This plate is enough for us. You don’t get dumplings often—keep them for yourselves.”

Nan Sheng’s dumplings were generously sized, and Uncle Lin thought a taste would suffice. But when he turned around, Zhou Wei was already on her second one.

She called to her sons, “Hurry up and eat! These are stuffed with meat and cracklings—so much oil! And yesterday, they acted like they hadn’t bought any meat.”

Sizhe couldn’t stand it and left to fetch his grandparents. Once they were out the gate, Uncle Lin slammed the plate to the ground and struck Zhou Wei across the face.

“What’s wrong with you? Sizhe brings you dumplings, and you repay him with spite?”

Sizhong and Sicheng rushed to intervene. “Dad, calm down! Don’t hit her!”

Uncle Lin pointed at Zhou Wei. “Does talking work? How many times has your aunt sent things over? Has she ever reciprocated? All she does is mooch! Zhou Wei, I swear, if you pull this again, I’ll hit you harder!”

In his youth, Uncle Lin had a fiery temper, and Zhou Wei had suffered for it. Over time, they’d mellowed, and she’d even gained the upper hand—until now.

The slap reignited her old fear. She didn’t dare cry, quietly retreating to the kitchen.

Sizhong picked up the fallen dumplings—they could still be eaten after washing. His heart ached. His mother’s behavior was grating, but every penny she saved went toward his and his brother’s futures.

“Dad, starting tomorrow, I’ll work full shifts. Once we have money, Mom won’t need to scrounge.”

Uncle Lin scoffed. “Even with a mountain of gold, she’d still be like this.”

When Father Lin and Mother Lin arrived at their second son’s home, they marveled at how often they’d been eating there lately.

The table was set with corn porridge, dumplings, and two cold dishes—a feast for the eyes.

Mother Lin said, “You hardly make dumplings—why share them with us old folks?”

Nan Sheng mixed a dipping sauce. “These are made with wild greens Sizhe picked. They won’t stay fresh long. Honestly, I don’t even know how to forage—pretty embarrassing for a village girl.”

Father and Mother Lin chuckled—they’d never heard of a country girl who couldn’t pick greens.

When they tasted the meaty filling, the elderly couple grew even more hesitant, but Nan Sheng urged them to eat their fill—she had a favor to ask.

“Eldest Brother Lin was quite lucky—he dug up a ginseng root in the mountains. I thought about making some medicinal wine for Lin Han to drink. I even bought the liquor, but I’m not sure how to prepare it properly.”

Mentioning the medicinal wine reminded her of something she’d forgotten. “Eldest Brother Lin, go fetch the liquor from my room and pour a cup for your grandfather to taste.”

Father Lin waved his hands in refusal. “No need for wine. After dinner, I’ll help you prepare it—it’s no trouble at all.”

But when Eldest Brother Lin brought the liquor over, Father Lin didn’t refuse after all. The aroma was simply too enticing.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep