He made several rabbit-shaped treats—one for Mom, one for Dad, one for his older brother, and one for his little sister.
No one else could eat them.
He had made them himself.
He had been craving them since morning, but Mom said they’d taste better once they cooled and set.
So he waited and waited, resisting the urge.
But now there were guests at home, so many people around, and the younger brother didn’t dare act spoiled...
Si Nian brought out two plates of mung bean cakes, the sweet, fresh fragrance instantly filling the air.
Almost in unison, everyone swallowed hard.
"My husband mentioned you sent mung bean cakes to the factory before—said they were delicious. I thought you bought them, but you made them yourself? You’re amazing, girl!"
"No kidding, these things are expensive!"
"Yeah, this is such a luxury. We’d be fine with just a bowl of water."
Si Nian smiled. "Mung bean cakes might be pricey, but mung beans themselves are cheap. Homemade ones aren’t as refined, but I made extra to save as snacks for the kids during the wedding. Don’t be polite—you’ve all brought so many gifts, these cakes are nothing in return."
"Though they’re a bit dry. Let me get you some mung bean soup to go with them."
With that, Si Nian headed back to the kitchen.
One of the wives from the farm quickly followed. "You shouldn’t have to do everything alone. Let me help."
The others, not wanting to just sit around, also got up to lend a hand.
This was how things went among close friends—everyone pitched in.
Entering the kitchen, they were stunned by how spotless it was.
"Does Si Nian have OCD or something? Even the floor is swept this clean."
If Si Nian had heard that, she’d have laughed.
This was actually the handiwork of the older and younger brothers.
Ever since they learned Si Nian liked cleanliness, sweeping had become their first task every morning.
The house was large, and if left unswept for a couple of days, dust would gather, and grease from cooking would make the floor sticky.
But with daily cleaning, it stayed neat and dry.
Si Nian poured everyone a bowl of sweet mung bean soup.
The children’s eyes widened in excitement.
Mung bean cakes and mung bean soup?
The first sip was cool and sweet, and soon they were gulping it down.
Sugar was a rare treat—most families only made sweet rice wine occasionally, sparingly sweetened.
Sweet drinks were usually reserved for the most favored son or the elderly.
Now, the adults busied themselves feeding their kids, not daring to take a sip for themselves.
Watching this, Si Nian couldn’t help but sigh.
Though she adored children, she always tasted good things herself before sharing.
No wonder people said:
The '80s generation—gave all the best to their kids.
The '90s generation—kept the best for themselves.
Even as a '90s kid, Si Nian deeply respected mothers who sacrificed everything for their children.
The kids devoured the mung bean cakes, mumbling between bites, "Mom, it’s so good."
"If it’s good, shouldn’t you thank Auntie? She’s the one who gave them to you."
The children, still licking their lips as if savoring the lingering sweetness, turned to Si Nian with shy but eager faces. "Thank you, Auntie."
Si Nian smiled. "You’re welcome."
"Has everyone eaten yet? Let me fry some flour cakes for you."
"Oh, don’t trouble yourself! We all ate before coming."
They waved her off, embarrassed.
They were here to help decorate the new house—they couldn’t keep eating her food.
"Have you bought the wedding couplets yet? And the 'double happiness' characters? We can help set up the bridal room."
Si Nian grinned. "Not yet. I was planning to do it these next few days."
"Great, bring them out and we’ll handle it."
Si Nian didn’t refuse. She fetched the red decorations and couplets Lin's mother had bought for her.
Doing it alone would’ve been tough—having help was a blessing.
Some followed her back to the kitchen to assist.
They watched as Si Nian cracked eggs into flour, added minced meat and salt, and stirred until it formed a thick batter.
This was something they’d only seen in state-run restaurants.
Flour was precious—no one would waste it like this.
And adding eggs and meat? Unthinkable.
The method was simple: heat lard in a pan, drop spoonfuls of batter, and watch as golden-brown cakes puffed up, bubbling to the surface. Quick and easy, perfect for banquets.
"I brought some dried potato skins—just sun-dried. We could fry some for the kids," someone suggested.
Si Nian nodded in agreement.
By the time she carried the fried cakes out, the others were already busy pasting red decorations around the living room.
The house buzzed with lively chatter.
Si Nian loved this kind of warmth, her bright face softening with a smile.
That smile left the other women staring.
"Si Nian, you’re just... so beautiful."
"Like a movie star."
"And your skin is flawless..."
Many were her age, but seeing her porcelain complexion, envy was unavoidable—though their praise was genuine.
Country life meant days spent under the sun, backs bent over fields.
Between raising kids and managing households, who had time for skincare?
Sleeping in was a luxury, let alone spending money on beauty products.
Only the better-off families could afford a dab of vanishing cream now and then.
But no one had skin like Si Nian’s.
And on top of that, she was stunning...
Sure, Zhou Yueshen’s family was well-off, but with her looks, Si Nian could’ve married anyone.
Honestly, it felt like he was the lucky one.
The aroma of the fried flour cakes soon became irresistible.
The mung bean cakes had been subtle, but the rich scent of lard-fried dough filled the entire house.
Even though he’d already eaten, the younger brother’s mouth watered.
Normally, he’d pester his mom for a bite.
But with so many people around, he felt too shy to whine.
So he scooped up the drowsy Yaoyao and marched toward Si Nian.
"Yaoyao, you must be hungry too, right? Big brother will get you something to eat."
"If you don’t say no, I’ll take that as a yes."
Yaoyao, half-asleep: ?
Her eyelids heavy, her little head nodding, she hadn’t heard a word.
The younger brother didn’t expect a response from a sister who only knew how to say "Mom" and not "brother."
He tugged at Si Nian’s pants and pleaded, wide-eyed, "Mom, Yaoyao says she wants fried flour cakes."
---
Phew, almost didn’t make it in time.
Scared me silly~~~~~
