Sizhe twitched his lips and picked up his little sister, who was staring at her stepmother with adoring eyes and an open mouth, carrying her as he stood behind Nan Sheng.

“Uncle, Auntie, we’ll head back first.”

The eldest child felt somewhat wronged by his grandparents’ attempts to smooth things over, but since the elderly couple had always treated him and his sister well, he couldn’t bring himself to criticize them.

Better to just go home and eat—he was pretty hungry anyway.

Father Lin and Mother Lin also called for Eldest Brother Lin’s family to return with them, as the elderly couple lived in the same courtyard as their eldest son.

Auntie Zhou Wei, being straightforward, couldn’t help but remark after what had just happened, “The second wife has a bad temper, but she’s quite protective of the kids outside.”

Eldest Brother Lin shot a glance at his parents, signaling his wife to keep quiet, though he, too, had begun to see his sister-in-law in a new light.

After Nan Sheng brought the two children home, the corn porridge on the table had already congealed. She poured hot water over it and stirred, and the three of them—one adult and two children—sat together to eat, an inexplicable warmth filling the moment.

They still had work to do in the afternoon, so Sizhe ate quickly, taking big bites of steamed bun and gulps of porridge whenever he choked. Siqi, however, ate absentmindedly, stealing glances at Nan Sheng between bites. She thought her mother looked so impressive when she stood up for them.

She liked it!

Though it would be even better if she didn’t scold her too!

Noticing her gaze, Nan Sheng tapped the table with her chopsticks. “No distractions during meals.” She was counting on the eldest to finish off the remaining food.

Siqi obediently straightened up and focused on eating, her sweet mouth piping up, “Mom, your cooking is so delicious!”

Nan Sheng couldn’t help but smile. With enough oil, how could the food not taste good?

Still, she was a meat lover, and going a few meals without it left her craving it.

“Sit properly. In a few days, I’ll go to town to withdraw some money and buy a couple of pounds of meat for us to eat.”

“Yay! Mom’s the best!”

Watching Siqi beam at such a simple promise, Sizhe began to wonder if his sister was really their father’s biological child. After being fooled for months, she still dared to believe their stepmother’s words—truly admirable courage.

Once he finished eating, he wasted no time heading out. “I’m off to work!”

In the afternoon, Nan Sheng stripped the bedding from both children’s beds to wash. Unable to sit still, Siqi grabbed a small basket and ran out to forage for wild greens.

Nan Sheng didn’t stop her. Once the bedding dried, she’d have to sew the covers back on, and the messy house needed reorganizing—there was too much to do.

When Sizhe returned in the evening, he carried a net bag. Siqi excitedly rushed over. “Brother, did you catch any shrimp?”

In the past, he would’ve just roasted whatever he caught over a fire. Why bring it home today?

Sizhe glanced at his stepmother before pouring the contents of the net into a basin. “Not just shrimp—two crucian carp, too.”

Nan Sheng, who was stir-frying vegetables, chimed in, “Want shrimp for dinner? Clean them, and I’ll fry them once the dishes are done.”

Siqi was thrilled, and Sizhe silently began cleaning the shrimp, occasionally stealing glances toward the kitchen, as if puzzled by his stepmother’s sudden change.

Nan Sheng was stir-frying eggplant and green beans, sliced into strips with green and red peppers for flavor—perfect with rice. Considering her daughter’s age, she set aside a portion before adding the spice.

Sizhe placed the cleaned shrimp on the stove—nearly half a basin’s worth. Nan Sheng was pleased. “So many? And they’re big ones! Sizhe, go wash up and change before dinner.”

Though he didn’t reply, he nodded. Nan Sheng chuckled to herself. Kids will be kids.

She quickly sliced some scallions and ginger, then fetched a small bottle of liquor from her room to remove the fishy smell. Siqi, meanwhile, nestled by the stove, tending the fire—such an adorable little helper.

“Mom, are you using that much oil?”

Her auntie always cooked with just a small spoonful. Her stepmother didn’t seem very thrifty.

Nan Sheng patted her daughter’s head. “You think shrimp will taste good with less oil? Mind your own business, little one.”

Siqi was an interesting child—fearless, it seemed. Even when scolded, she never held a grudge. A kind word, and she’d sweetly call her “Mom” again, utterly endearing.

That afternoon, after being bullied by the third uncle’s family, she had cried for a bit, then forgotten all about it after a nap—remarkably resilient.

Once the shrimp were fried to a crisp, Nan Sheng set them aside, leaving just a bit of oil in the wok to sauté the scallions, ginger, and seasonings before tossing the shrimp back in to coat them in sauce.

There were enough shrimp to fill a small basin, with an extra plate set aside.

“Sizhe, are you done washing up? Take this plate of shrimp to your grandparents before dinner.”

Some social niceties were unavoidable—a woman raising two kids alone might need help someday.

Sizhe had already finished washing. He’d been scrubbing his dirty clothes in the yard but rinsed his hands and came inside when called.

The aroma of the fried shrimp, glazed in sauce, was irresistible even before tasting.

Siqi, unable to resist, sucked on her fingers—only to get a light smack from her stepmother. “Brother, hurry back!”

The little glutton couldn’t wait to dig in. Sizhe gave a quiet “Mm,” though he almost said they didn’t need to wait for him—but that might’ve been presumptuous.

By then, every household in the village was preparing dinner. At his grandparents’ place, the meal had just been laid out.

Lin Jianguo waved his nephew over. “Come eat with us, Sizhe. Your auntie steamed mixed-grain buns today.”

“Mixed-grain” meant wheat flour blended with cornmeal—common during busy farming seasons when the two families often shared meals.

Auntie Zhou Wei glanced at Sizhe but didn’t shoo him away, figuring the kids had had a rough day.

Sicheng scooted over to make space, urging Sizhe to sit beside him. The whole way, Sizhe had shielded the shrimp with the small basin to keep dust off.

“Uncle, we made shrimp for dinner. She asked me to bring some for you and Grandma. I won’t stay long.”

Sicheng’s eyes lit up at the sight of the shrimp, and he popped one into his mouth before the adults could react. The rest of the table was stunned.

“Your mother really sent this?” Grandma Lin asked in disbelief.

Today was full of surprises.

Sizhe bristled at the word “mother” but nodded anyway before turning to leave. Behind him, Sicheng’s voice carried, praising how delicious the shrimp were.

Only after Sizhe returned home did the three of them start eating. They polished off the entire basin of shrimp, and once off the table, Siqi begged her brother, “Catch more shrimp tomorrow! I want to eat this every day!”

“No!”

The amount of oil used for one small basin could last other families days. This stepmother was bizarre—stingy before, now extravagantly generous. Was she trying to spend all their money?

Seeing Nan Sheng still seated, Sizhe took the initiative to wash the dishes. Just as he thought he could finally rest, his stepmother called him into the east room.

“Are your injuries okay? Let me know if you’re feeling unwell anywhere. Also, starting tomorrow, you don’t have to go to work anymore—go back to school instead. If you’re worried about your little sister, she can go to school with you.”

Children in rural areas start school late, often not learning to read until seven or eight. Sending Siqi now would just mean spending the money two years earlier, and besides, Nan Sheng wasn’t exactly skilled at childcare.

The suggestion stirred something in Sizhe. His grandmother often told him knowledge could change one’s destiny, and Father Lin had always hoped he’d rise above their circumstances. If his sister went to school with him, he wouldn’t have to worry about her being beaten anymore.

The word “okay” had barely formed in his throat when Siqi broke down first. “I don’t want to go to school! I don’t want to go! I don’t want to get my hands smacked!”

The noise gave Nan Sheng a headache, and she pulled the girl over, manually shutting her up.

“As long as you behave in school and finish your homework on time, the teacher won’t smack your hands.”

So stop wailing already!

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep