Further training meant Lin Han would have to wait another year before reuniting with his wife and children, but to provide a better life for his family, he could endure the wait.

Moreover, his wife’s work arrangements also needed time, and he couldn’t selfishly drag her into military camp life, leaving her confined to the kitchen all day.

After some thought, Lin Han picked up his pen and wrote a letter home.

The first line read: “Darling, you’ve worked hard taking care of the children at home.” He then clearly explained his meritorious service and the upcoming training, cautiously probing Nan Sheng’s attitude—asking if she’d be willing to join him at the military camp.

At the end, he added: “You have the final say in all household matters. I fully support you!”

This line was in response to the question of whether to sever ties with Lin Xue. Over the years serving in the military, Lin Han had grown distant from his family. Apart from his parents, he only missed his eldest brother, who had raised him.

His younger sister had her in-laws and the care of their parents and brothers—she didn’t need him, the second brother. He’d rather bear his parents’ resentment than disappoint his wife and children.

Back in Huaishan Town, the drought was expected to end in at most another week.

Recently, the government had doubled the ice rations distributed to each village. Even so, cases of heatstroke among the elderly and children were frequent, though thankfully no fatalities had occurred yet.

At this critical juncture, they couldn’t afford to slack off. Nan Sheng and other officials made daily rounds to every village, ensuring no village head abused their power again.

By the time she returned home in the evening, she was too exhausted to even eat. Her two children grew so anxious they nearly spoon-fed her.

Today, seeing his mother gulp down a cup of ice water and collapse into bed, Sizhe wondered if some meat might whet her appetite.

Without hesitation, he fished out a pound of meat from the oil jar, sliced it, and stir-fried it with dried chilies. The fumes made his eyes water and sent him into a coughing fit.

When he tasted the final dish, it was unbearably salty and spicy!

What now?

Would Mom scold him for ruining the meat…?

Dinner consisted of thick mung bean porridge, a plate of salted duck eggs, and the overly salty chili-fried meat.

After a nap, Nan Sheng felt somewhat restored, though her limbs still ached with fatigue. Siqi fetched a basin of water from the nearly dry well to wipe her mother’s sweat.

These days, the well’s water level had dropped so low that it barely filled the water vat each day.

Refreshed after washing her face, Nan Sheng joined her children for dinner. Spotting the chili-fried meat, she raised an eyebrow—had her son learned to cook?

“Impressive, big boy! For your first attempt, this looks amazing. You’ve got talent—Mom won’t have to worry about going hungry in the future.”

Sizhe fought back a grin, though his lips betrayed him. Still, the dish’s taste gnawed at him. “I oversalted it. It’s too salty.”

Without even tasting it, Nan Sheng reassured him, “It’s fine! Remember how salty the cured meat used to be? Still delicious!”

Watching her take several bites without complaint, Sizhe’s unease faded. He resolved to use less salt next time, confident he’d master the skill like his mother—able to cook perfectly even blindfolded.

Siqi, noticing her mother’s attention fixed on her brother, sulked silently. She vowed to learn cooking too—she’d be Mom’s favorite!

The next day, when Mingli came for ice, he shared news with Sizhe: their great-grandmother in Xiaoling Village had fallen ill. Sizhe immediately urged him to take all the ice for the elderly first.

Mingli refused—the children at home needed it too—and took only his family’s share. Thankfully, their improved diet had strengthened his parents’ health; a few days without ice wouldn’t harm them much.

That evening, Nan Sheng returned to find Sizhe had cooked again: steamed rice and braised tofu.

As usual, she praised him before asking, “Where’d the tofu come from?”

“Granny Zhang next door made it. She trades it for beans.”

Nan Sheng had given Sizhe a key to the storage cabinet. Hearing about the trade, he’d scooped out a small bowl of beans immediately.

“Granny didn’t look well when I went over. Mom, should we send them some ice?”

Nan Sheng smacked her forehead—she’d forgotten, thanks to that nuisance Lin Xue.

“Sure. Take them half a box daily from now on. We can’t let the old folks fall sick from the heat!”

Sizhe then mentioned their great-grandmother’s heatstroke, relayed by their uncle.

Nan Sheng’s mood soured further. She decided to buy canned goods and extra ice in town tomorrow to deliver personally—a trip that would expose her to her selfish aunt’s antics.

With two cans and a bag of rock sugar in a satchel tied to her bike’s handlebars, and the icebox wrapped in cloth and secured on the rear rack, Nan Sheng set off.

The house was bustling when she arrived—Aunt Zhong, her two young cousins, Zhong Yanyan, and Mingli were all there.

Hearing the gate open, cousins Zhong Yong and Zhong De rushed out to help. With schools closed due to the heat, the middle schoolers had time to spare.

“Nan Sheng, you’re here! Come inside!”

One took the satchel while the other untied the icebox, sparing her any hassle.

Inside, Aunt Zhong hastily prepared a glass of sugar water, and even Grandpa Zhong fretted over her braving the heat.

“Don’t worry, Grandpa. I’m tough. Besides, I had to see you for myself to feel at ease.”

Zhong Yanyan yielded her seat so Nan Sheng could check on Grandma, whose dizziness and nausea would pass with rest.

The crowded room grew stifling. Zhong Yanyan stayed to tend to the elders while the others gathered at Aunt Zhong’s place.

Her face twisted in frustration. “Nan Sheng, don’t take this wrong, but your grandma brought this on herself.

Mingli delivers ice every two days—how could she get heatstroke? Your aunt Zhong Qin must’ve used it all when she visited yesterday.”

The younger generation exchanged uneasy glances. What was Zhong Qin thinking?

Did she want to kill the old folks with her antics?

Speak of the devil—Zhong Qin, who’d developed a craving for sugar water after gulping several bowls two days prior, trudged over in the scorching heat just for another taste.

Unfortunately, she ran into her sister Zhong Yanyan.

By the time Nan Sheng and the others heard the commotion and rushed over, Zhong Yanyan had already pinned Zhong Qin to the ground, thrashing her.

Zhong Qin spat defiance: “Mom’s just weak—why blame me if she’s sick?”

The woman was beyond redemption…

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep