Chapter 26

Lin Zhao planned to take two jin of pork, ten eggs, and the remaining four bottles of soda.

She had just finished packing when she heard Erzai’s shout.

“Mama, Mama, I have big news to tell you!!” The child’s voice rang high, brimming with uncontainable excitement.

Intrigued, Lin Zhao stepped quickly out of the room.

“What big news?”

Erzai said: “My little aunt got kicked out by Grandpa.”

After saying that, he burst into laughter, “Hahaha…”

Lin Zhao: “??!”

Did she understand correctly?

“Wait, explain in detail.”

Seeing his mother’s confused expression, Erzai gave his brother a look.

Dazai received the signal, his expression instantly turning serious.

Then…

The two brothers began their performance.

“Mama, I’m Little Aunt.” Erzai spoke first.

“Then I’ll be Grandpa, Big Uncle, Second Uncle, Big Aunt, and Second Aunt.” Dazai recited a string of names.

Lin Zhao: “...” There were quite a few actors in that drama at the old homestead.

Erzai began acting, his childish face twisted into a look of deep grievance, eyes wide, neck stiff, shouting angrily, “That’s my third brother’s connection—why should she get all the benefits...”

Here he changed the line; the child knew Lin Zhao was his mother’s name and wouldn’t casually say it, so he used “she” instead.

After Erzai finished his line, Dazai stepped forward.

Dazai imitated Grandpa’s demeanor, gazing solemnly at some empty space as if two people stood there, frowning and saying, “Send Gu Xing’er to your grandmother’s.”

Here he paused dramatically, as if the people on the other side hadn’t responded.

Then he added coldly, “Don’t just stand there—do it.”

Erzai writhed as if being dragged, stretching his arms out desperately, shouting, “Father, I’m your daughter—you can’t throw me out...”

After that…

More dialogue followed.

The two boys mimicked the tone of voice perfectly.

Lin Zhao didn’t need to ask—she knew exactly who they were imitating.

Finally…

Erzai acted out being dragged, stumbling all the way toward the front gate.

Lin Zhao’s lips twitched.

“...”

Such dramatic little actors.

She hadn’t seen the real scene, yet she felt as if she’d been there.

“Mama, that’s how it happened. My little aunt was sent away.” After finishing, Erzai ran back, beaming.

Then he chuckled, thinking of something, “Tiechui must be thrilled.”

As he spoke, Tiechui ran over to the third household, his eyes shining.

“Dazai, Erzai,” he called.

Seeing Lin Zhao, he bowed politely: “Third Auntie.”

“Ah, you kids play—I’ll go check the back courtyard.” Lin Zhao walked toward the back, fearing the three boys might feel uneasy.

She hadn’t taken more than a few steps when she heard Tiechui’s cheerful voice: “Dazai, Erzai, Little Aunt was sent away!”

Gu Xing’er had somehow made every single younger generation in the Gu household avoid her—truly a top-tier Jipin .

Lin Zhao reached the back courtyard, where the entire vegetable patch was enclosed by bamboo fencing, neatly divided into rows, with wooden trellises erected—soon to be covered in green vines, brimming with life.

She watered the garden, swept up the fallen leaves, then returned to the front yard.

The three boys were still there, organizing the firewood stacked against the wall—five-year-old boys diligently working, easy to manage.

Lin Zhao smiled faintly, pulling a bottle of soda from the net bag meant for the old homestead.

She handed it to the three little ones.

“You boys worked hard—share this soda.”

Tiechui’s eyes lit up instantly; he licked his lips secretly, looking utterly greedy.

“Thank you, Third Auntie.” He had a chubby, earnest face—clearly a good-natured child—and his smile was even more wholesome, endearing Lin Zhao deeply.

Dazai and Erzai, thinking of the soda’s taste, were also delighted.

Lin Zhao figured they’d be eating soon, so she didn’t give them any food, lest they fill up before the meal.

She returned to the room and wrote a letter to Gu Chenghuai.

The letter was mostly flattery: she described her day-trip to the county with Dazai and Erzai, and mentioned the gift she’d given Yang Jun.

She filled several pages.

After checking it over and finding no sensitive wording, she sealed the letter in an envelope, stuck on a stamp, and planned to mail it tomorrow.

The three little men finished stacking the firewood.

Erzai noticed the water jar in the kitchen was empty; he leaned out the window, sticking his head inside and shouting loudly, “Mama, the jar’s empty—I’ll go call Big Uncle to fetch water.”

Since her awakening, Lin Zhao had grown fond of cleanliness, and household water usage had increased sharply.

Previously, Gu Yuanshan and Gu Yucheng took turns hauling water every two days; now, it wasn’t enough even daily.

“Not yet—I’ll mention it myself when we get to the old homestead.”

Erzai didn’t think twice; he just “Oh”ed, washed his face and hands with the last of the water.

Lin Zhao thought for a moment, then pulled out an aluminum lunchbox and five chi of velvet fabric, planning to take them along too.

Her husband was away; there’d be many more chores involving the old homestead ahead. She couldn’t keep taking advantage—when they did the labor, she’d provide the goods. She wasn’t short of these things.

Before long, it was time to go to the old homestead.

Lin Zhao picked up her things and said to the three children in the courtyard: “Come on, let’s go to the old homestead for dinner.”

Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the soda bottle was still two-thirds full; she blinked in surprise, “You’re all so disciplined—you haven’t even finished the soda?”

Erzai said seriously: “Good things should be sipped slowly—you can’t gulp them all down at once.”

Dazai and Tiechui nodded vigorously, clearly agreeing with Erzai.

Lin Zhao shook the bundle in her hand, teasing the boys: “Look what this is?”

Dazai’s eyes widened. “Pork! Eggs! And soda!!”

Tiechui licked his lips, saliva nearly dripping—children with little fat on their bones would happily gnaw raw meat if they saw it.

“It’s fatty pork!!” His voice rose even higher than Dazai’s.

Erzai took the bundle from Lin Zhao, his clear eyes fixed on her: “Mama, are we taking all this?”

“Yes. We’ve got five mouths to feed—we can’t just eat for free.” Lin Zhao said.

Erzai grinned openly, exposing the flaw in her logic: “Me and my brother have been eating for free for years.”

Lin Zhao: “...”

She said calmly: “What was true before is not true now. From now on, things change.”

Erzai opened his mouth to reply, but Dazai shot him a glare—he instantly fell silent.

After glaring at his brother, Dazai reached for the other small bundle in Lin Zhao’s hand, but she refused: “This one’s for Big Aunt and Second Aunt—I’ll carry it myself. You and Erzai take the other one, okay?”

“Okay,” Dazai replied obediently.

Tiechui stared curiously at the small bundle in Third Auntie’s hand, unable to tell what it was.

Lin Zhao led the three children to the old homestead.

Erzai carried a bundle of pork that looked like two jin; Dazai carried the net bag with eggs and soda.

This scene was far from ordinary—it was pure showboating.

Villagers who saw what they carried couldn’t help but stare.

Pork attracted adults, but children found it even more irresistible.

Tieniu spotted the meat in Erzai’s hands from afar, dashed over, drooling, “Erzai, you’ve got so much meat!” He desperately wanted to chew on pork cracklings.

Erzai beamed proudly: “My mama’s now a clerk at the county supply store! Grandma told us to come eat at the old homestead to celebrate. Mama said our family has five mouths—we can’t eat for free. All this is what Mama prepared for Grandpa and Grandma.”

The villagers heard this, and in an instant, their impression of Lin Zhao changed.

From lazy, troublesome, and clueless, she became filial, generous, and cultured.

Dazai, fearing others couldn’t see clearly, held up his bundle and waved it: “And soda! Soda!!”

Tiechui had never tasted soda; he stared at the orange liquid in the net bag, tears welling in his eyes from hunger: “I’ve never had soda—is it better than brown sugar water?”

“Better than brown sugar water!” Tiechui said with equal pride, his expression identical to the two brothers’.

Tieniu was the village chief’s grandson—the first child in the entire brigade to have eaten a state-run restaurant’s pork bun. Now, everything these boys ate and drank was something he’d never tasted—and the little boy was nearly in tears.

Tie Niu is the brigade leader’s own grandson, the first child in the entire brigade to have eaten a large meat bun from the state-run restaurant; now, everything the other kids eat and drink is something he’s never tasted, and the little boy is about to cry from injustice.

Seeing his friend on the verge of crying, Dazai looked to his mother: “Mama, can we let Tieniu taste our leftover soda?”

Lin Zhao smiled: “I already said it—anything I give you, you can decide who to share it with. You’re the little masters of this household—you have that right.”

Dazai loved hearing his mother call them the household’s little masters; his heart bubbled with joy.

Dacai loved hearing his mother say they were the little masters of the house, his heart bubbling with joy.

He looked at Erzai and Tiechui, and asked seriously, “Would you two share with Tieniu?”

He added why he was willing to share: “Tieniu used to share bird eggs with us.”

Erzai, who had no mother to care for him and was naturally greedy and stingy, now wanted to share after realizing his mother liked him.

“Sure, I’m willing to share,” he said loudly.

Tiechui followed Daizai and Erzai’s lead; since they had no objections, neither did he.

“I’m willing to share too.”

Erzai grinned and said to Tieniu, “We still have half a bottle of soda at home—let’s drink it together this afternoon.”

Tieniu’s tears turned to laughter, his eyelashes still glistening, his smile wide, “I’ll share my sweet wild berries with you too.”

“Great～～”

Two little kids, short and stout, barely that tall, dressed in patched clothes, talking with solemn faces—so adorable it broke your heart.

In a short time, the news that Lin Zhao had brought meat to her in-laws spread through the whole village.

Human nature is complex—

When a bad person does one good thing, it’s like a streak of light cutting through a dark night; people are delighted to discover he’s not beyond redemption, and all his past evils are washed clean by this single act of kindness; but when a good person does one bad thing, it’s a stain on white paper—blatant, impossible to ignore—and all his good deeds are erased by that one mistake.

Lin Zhao wasn’t a bad person, but she belonged to the former category.

With Daizai and Erzai spreading the word, her old bad reputation instantly reversed.

Yes, a daughter-in-law who gives meat, eggs, and soda to her in-laws—there aren’t many like her in the whole brigade. So what if she’s lazy? She’s filial.

Because of those two pounds of meat, plus Daizai and Erzai’s loud, talkative mouths, the few minutes’ walk to Gu family’s old homestead felt especially long.

When they arrived, Lin Zhao let out a long breath.

But Daizai and Erzai looked disappointed, their faces clearly saying, “That’s it? Already?”

Lin Zhao was speechless.

These two little brothers loved showing off so much.

The mother silently grumbled inside as Daizai and Erzai marched into the Gu household with old-man strides.

“Grandpa, Grandma, we’re here! We brought meat and soda!”

Erzai’s voice was as loud as ever.

Gu Mu and her two daughters-in-law stepped out from the kitchen.

Seeing the meat, they were stunned and delighted.

Oh? What day is this? Third son’s wife actually brought meat to our door?!

“Third daughter-in-law, what’s this?” Gu Mu asked.

“It’s just the Double Rush—tiring work. I happened to buy a few pounds of meat and brought it over for you all to replenish.” Lin Zhao said coolly.

Gu Mu froze.

Lin Zhao pulled items from her cloth sack, handed the aluminum lunchbox to her sister-in-law Huang Xiulan, and said, “Big sister, Alaan doesn’t have a lunchbox—this one’s barely been used, I’m giving it to her.”

Gu Lan was the eldest daughter of the first household, twelve years old.

Huang Xiulan beamed, accepted it, and smiled, “Oh my, looks almost new—thank you so much, Third Sister-in-law.”

Lin Zhao accepted her thanks, then handed the five-chi corduroy fabric to Zhao Liuniang and said, “Second sister, your sewing’s excellent—here’s five chi of corduroy. Make a autumn jacket for Mother, and use the leftover to make pants for Yuyu.”

Zhao Liuniang’s face lit up, and she immediately promised, “Yes, I know Mother’s measurements—I’ll make it tonight.”

Gu Mu was utterly astonished: “Make me an autumn jacket?”

“Yes, for Mother,” Lin Zhao said. “I’m going back to work in a few days, and the four kids still need you to look after them—this is your compensation.”

Gu Mu was traditional: she hoarded food and clothing, giving the best to her grandchildren; fabric was always reserved for the grandchildren first.

She hadn’t had a new garment in years; her clothes had more patches than anyone else’s.

Suddenly enjoying her daughter-in-law’s kindness, the old woman’s nose stung, and she nearly cried.

She stroked the corduroy fabric, saying, “Such fine material—why make it for me? I’m an old woman, why wear new clothes?”

“What’s wrong with being old? The older you are, the more you deserve new clothes,” Lin Zhao disagreed.

Gu Mu felt deeply touched—Third daughter-in-law was truly good; her past behavior must have been because she was young.

Lin Zhao added, “Big sister, Second sister, the household uses water fast—fetching it every two days isn’t enough.”

Huang Xiulan and Zhao Liuniang now understood why Third daughter-in-law had given them gifts—she’d been waiting for this.

But neither minded at all.

Fetching water? Just a bit of time.

The benefits they received were real and tangible.

“Fine, I’ll tell my husband later,” Huang Xiulan agreed at once.

Now that Third daughter-in-law had made a request, she felt even more at ease accepting the aluminum lunchbox.

Zhao Liuniang felt the same—thinking the leftover fabric could make pants for her Yuyu, her eyes sparkled with joy.

“Fetching water’s simple—I’ll remind Yuyu’s father too.”

Both sisters-in-law had received gifts, and now they found Lin Zhao pleasing in every way.

This pleasing feeling peaked after they ate meat and drank soda.

Without Gu Xing’er, the family meal was unusually harmonious, especially for the children, who were all ecstatic.

Meat, stir-fried eggs, and soda—this was a life even gods wouldn’t trade.

After the afternoon nap.

Lin Zhao took a moment to deep-fry the cicada nymphs the kids had caught; the kitchen filled with fragrance.

Erzai woke up, smelled the scent, woke his brother, and the two trudged toward the kitchen in their cloth slippers, rubbing their eyes.

Seeing Lin Zhao’s figure, they instantly snapped awake.

“Mom, it smells so good—what are you making?” Erzai asked.

Lin Zhao held up a large porcelain bowl, waving it near the two kids through the window, letting the aroma spread, “Deep-fried cicada nymphs.”

Daizai’s eyes widened in shock: “Mom, I’ve eaten cicada nymphs before, but never this fragrant—did you add meat?”

“I fried them in oil, with other seasonings—of course they’re fragrant,” Lin Zhao said proudly.

She’d tasted them first—crispy, crunchy, deliciously aromatic, but scalding hot.

“Go wash up quickly—these are best eaten hot,” Lin Zhao urged the two, also fearing the Long Fengtai would wake and demand some.

Daizai and Erzai obediently washed up, returned to their room to apply Baby Cream, then came back to the kitchen.

“Mom, we’re clean,” Erzai said.

Daizai added, “We put on Baby Cream.”

Lin Zhao praised offhandedly, “Good boys.”

She handed the fried cicada nymphs to the two.

“Go eat outside—don’t let your younger siblings see.”