The Beautiful Stepmother from the Eighties: Marrying a Factory Director to Raise Kids

Chapter 140

Zhou Zedong, standing nearby, suddenly grew nervous.

His small hands clenched tightly.

Si Nian found his flustered expression both awkward and endearing.

The usually serious, stern-faced little boy now had a touch of childishness—which was only natural. The hardships he’d faced had forced him to mature too quickly, but at heart, he was still just a child.

"My little Zedong is so amazing, scoring so high! Tonight, Mom will cook something delicious to celebrate."

She reached out and ruffled his hair in encouragement.

Zhou Zedong’s eyes instantly brightened, though his expression remained shy. He turned his face away, unable to hide his joy.

Before, he had believed that excelling in school was the only way to escape his struggles.

But now, he realized that good grades could bring more than just a way out—they could also earn him warmth and affection. Unable to contain his happiness, his lips curled into a small smile.

Si Nian watched him, amused, and couldn’t resist pinching his cheeks, which had recently gained a bit more baby fat.

"Mom, I’m going to feed the rabbits!" Zhou Zedong’s face flushed red as he hurried toward the door.

Even from a distance, his blush was unmistakable.

Si Nian chuckled. It was hard to believe this easily flustered boy would one day become that brooding, formidable research scientist.

Meanwhile, Zhou Zehan—Little Han—noticed Si Nian pinching his brother’s cheeks and immediately pushed his own face forward.

"Mom, pinch me too!"

Si Nian laughed and obliged, giving his cheek a gentle squeeze. The little boy giggled, cupping his face in delight.

"Alright, finish your homework. Your brother’s already done—no slacking off, Little Han."

With that, Si Nian headed into the kitchen.

For dinner, she prepared a rich pork rib soup and stir-fried baby bok choy—crisp, sweet, and perfect in the broth.

Just as the soup finished simmering, Zhou Yueshen returned home, hauling enough firewood to last the entire winter.

In their village, most households cooked over wood-fired stoves, which required a steady supply of dry timber. The stockpile had been exhausted during their wedding banquet.

Wood-burning stoves not only made food taste better but were also efficient—just a few logs could burn for hours.

Si Nian remembered using coal in her childhood, but in this era, it was expensive. Most rural families only bought it in winter.

She preferred firewood anyway—coal smoke could be suffocating.

She had been planning to gather some herself the next day, but Zhou Yueshen had beaten her to it.

Behind him followed Yu Dong.

The two men unloaded the firewood from the truck, stacking it neatly against the wall.

Zhou Yueshen had changed into a sleeveless undershirt, revealing his tall, rugged frame.

Si Nian stood at the doorway, admiring the sight.

Yu Dong inhaled deeply, catching the aroma from inside. "Sis-in-law, what’s cooking today? Smells amazing!"

"I made pork rib soup. Come in and stay for dinner," Si Nian replied.

"Don’t mind if I do!" Yu Dong grinned, working faster to finish unloading.

Soon, the firewood was neatly piled against the wall.

Wiping his sweat, Yu Dong pulled out a cigarette and offered one to Zhou Yueshen.

Zhou Yueshen gave him a sidelong glance and wordlessly declined with a wave of his hand.

Yu Dong raised an eyebrow, then, remembering something, tucked his own cigarette away.

Right—the boss never smoked around the kids. Bad influence, and the secondhand smoke wasn’t good for them.

Zhou Yueshen picked up a broom and swept away the wood shavings.

As he bent over, Yu Dong caught a glimpse of faint, suggestive scratches across his chest.

Well, even if he hadn’t experienced it himself, he knew what those meant.

Looks like the wedding night was… eventful.

Yu Dong smirked knowingly.

Si Nian added two more dishes to the table. When the men still hadn’t come inside, she stepped out and saw Zhou Yueshen sweeping, his forehead glistening with sweat.

The setting sun cast a warm glow on his profile—his tanned skin, sharp features, and the strong lines of his neck.

Si Nian blinked, watching for a moment before calling out, "Zhou Yueshen, Yu Dong—dinner’s ready."

The rib soup was rich and fragrant, the meat so tender it fell off the bone effortlessly. Even Yaoyao had no trouble eating it.

Si Nian set aside a few pieces to cool, mixed them with rice for Yaoyao, and placed a bowl of soup on the table.

Yu Dong entered first and spotted the bowl—loaded with goji berries, yam, sea cucumber, and other… invigorating ingredients.

Yu Dong: "......"

Zhou Yueshen walked in just in time to receive his friend’s meaningful look.

Frowning slightly, he ignored it.

Noticing Si Nian feeding Yaoyao on the sofa, he headed to the dining table.

There, he saw the conspicuously placed bowl of… fortifying soup.

For the first time, a flicker of emotion crossed Zhou Yueshen’s usually stoic face: "......"

Without a word, he sat down and downed the soup in three gulps.

Yu Dong shook his head inwardly.

Needing a tonic right after the wedding night?

Boss must really be struggling.

But Sis-in-law was being way too obvious. Didn’t she know this kind of thing hurt a man’s pride?

Or was Zhou Yueshen’s performance so lacking that she couldn’t take it anymore?

He had assumed their wedding night was intense—after all, Zhou Yueshen had long held the reputation of being the "most virile" man in the village.

Back when they first met, a shared trip to the restroom had left Yu Dong utterly intimidated.

He’d been jealous for years!

But now it seemed… all show, no substance.

No wonder the boss had stayed single for so long. He’d thought it was for the sake of the kids, but clearly, that was just an excuse.

Boss, you sly dog.

Yu Dong was impressed.

After dinner, as dusk settled, Si Nian packed some mung bean cakes for Yu Dong as thanks. He rode off on his bicycle.

Once the kids were fed, Si Nian returned to the table and froze.

The rib soup she’d left to cool was gone.

She blinked in confusion.

Where was her special tonic soup?

For a moment, she wondered if her memory was failing her. A search in the kitchen turned up nothing.

Even while washing dishes, she puzzled over it—she was sure she’d left it on the table.

Though she now inhabited the body of an eighteen-year-old, her mind was that of a nearly thirty-year-old woman from her past life.

Her memory had always been spotty, and apparently, that hadn’t changed.

Sighing, she ladled another bowl to cool, then carried a drowsy Yaoyao upstairs. The little girl dozed off as soon as she was full—she needed to be tucked in first.

Zhou Yueshen had already been running hot these past few days. That soup only intensified the heat.

After a cold shower, he headed upstairs but paused mid-step.

Turning back, he glanced at the dining table.

Another steaming bowl of rib and goji berry soup sat there, waiting.

Zhou Yueshen: "......"

Si Nian had intended to put Yaoyao to bed and then return for her soup.

But in the end, she fell asleep too.

In the middle of the night, she felt as if she were surrounded by blazing stoves, the heat jolting her awake.

Only then did she realize the broad, scorching embrace of a man pressed against her back.

She was startled.

Snapping back to her senses, she instinctively reached for Yaoyao beside her, only to find the child gone.

She hurriedly sat up and touched the man’s forehead—drenched in sweat.

"Zhou Yueshen, what’s wrong with you?" Si Nian asked worriedly.

Could this iron-willed man actually be sick?

That didn’t seem right—it didn’t fit his character at all.

Her hand brushed over his face, then trailed downward. He wasn’t wearing a shirt, his chest burning hot and slightly damp.

All from the sweat she’d pressed against him.

She called his name again, and Zhou Yueshen let out a low groan in response.

Suddenly, a large hand gripped her waist, pulling her down as he lifted his head to capture her lips.

His breath was searing, his tongue scorching hot.

Si Nian let out a muffled sound as she collapsed against his chest, her head held firmly in place by his hand, their lips and tongues entwined.

Zhou Yueshen kissed her for a while before finally releasing her when she seemed breathless, his voice husky as he asked, "Does it still hurt?"

Only then did Si Nian realize his reaction was off. Her face flushed slightly.

This man was already thirty—how could he still be so impulsive?

She had meant to take things slow to recover, but she’d forgotten. Tonight was definitely not the right time.

Besides, overindulgence was bad for his health.

She shook her head.

Zhou Yueshen wrapped his arm around her waist, pulling her close.

After a long silence, his voice was deep and rough. "Alright, sleep."

Si Nian, irritated by the heat, pushed at him slightly, but Zhou Yueshen didn’t let go. Instead, he tugged the blanket aside, letting cool air rush over them.

She stopped resisting then, nestling into his arms as she drifted back into a hazy sleep.

Si Nian woke up early the next morning.

The night before, she had prepared a pot of pork rib soup and left it to cool.

By now, it had congealed into a jelly-like consistency, filled with finely shredded meat.

A faint aroma of lard lingered in the air.

The dough she had left to ferment overnight was ready, and Si Nian planned to make soup-filled pork rib buns for breakfast.

The filling and dough were prepped—all that was left was wrapping them.

Si Nian loved cooking, especially making desserts, dumplings, or steamed buns.

She found the process relaxing.

And she enjoyed eating them too.

It was one of her few pleasures.

She spooned the jelly-like broth into the dough wrappers, shaping them into small, delicate buns—just the right size for soup dumplings.

Once steamed, the jelly would melt, turning into a rich, savory broth that would burst with flavor at the first bite.

She wrapped forty or fifty before running out of dough.

Aside from packing some for the two older kids to take to school, she also prepared a portion for Zhou Yueshen’s breakfast and another for her elder brother.

Her brother now helped with deliveries at the pig farm, waking up around the same time as Zhou Yueshen.

If Zhou Yueshen took the food, her brother could enjoy a hot meal too.

As soon as the buns hit the steamer, the rich, mouthwatering scent of pork rib broth filled the kitchen.

Little Han was woken up by the smell.

Still half-asleep, he followed the aroma like a sleepwalker, only snapping back to reality when he found himself standing in the kitchen.

Rubbing his eyes, he blinked at the steamer, his hair—already grown out from a recent haircut—sticking up in all directions. His clothes were askew, one tiny shoulder peeking out, his mouth practically watering as he stared.

Si Nian was surprised to see him up so early—usually, Zhou Zedong was the first to rise.

But the dazed, hungry look on his face made it clear why he’d woken up.

Had the smell literally pulled him out of bed?

How adorable.

"Little Han, you’re up? Go wash your face and brush your teeth—breakfast’s ready."

"Mom, Mom, what’s this? Are these buns?" Zhou Zehan swallowed hard, curiosity snapping him awake as he stared at Si Nian.

She ruffled his hair and explained, "Not exactly. They’re called soup dumplings. You’ll see when you eat them. Go wake your brother up."

Zhou Zehan nodded eagerly, too excited to even wash up first. His mind was completely occupied by the soup dumplings—he’d never had them before, but they smelled even better than meat buns!

He rushed upstairs and shook his brother awake. "Bro, bro, get up! Mom says it’s time to eat!"

Without waiting for a response, he grabbed his clothes and yanked them on inside out, then bolted back downstairs without a second glance.

Zhou Zedong, still groggy, watched his usually lazy little brother sprint off in misaligned pants.

For a moment, the usually composed older boy just sat there, utterly bewildered.

After sending the kids off to school, Si Nian packed a portion for Zhou Yueshen.

He rarely stayed home for meals.

When he came downstairs and saw her in the kitchen, he paused for a moment before walking up behind her and pulling her into his arms.

He hadn’t slept well last night, and today, for once, he seemed genuinely tired.

With one arm around her waist, he turned her to face him, pressing her against the counter as he kissed her.

Si Nian tilted her head back, unfazed—Zhou Yueshen had always been fond of kissing her.

So much so that she didn’t notice anything unusual about him at first.

Dressed in a tank top, his muscular legs trapping hers, his neck thick with faintly visible veins, his expression was as stern as ever.

Perhaps it was the newlywed phase, or maybe they were still in the honeymoon period.

With the kids gone, they grew bolder.

But when his hand slid under her clothes, Si Nian quickly grabbed his wrist. "Don’t."

They were still in the kitchen, and though the window was small, anyone passing by could see inside.

Zhou Yueshen exhaled roughly, burying his face against her neck as he pressed his heated desire against her.

His morning reaction was even more intense than usual.

Only then did she notice his bloodshot eyes.

He looked like a man on the verge of losing control.

She was startled.

"Zhou Yueshen, what’s wrong with you?"

Why did he look like he’d been drugged with an aphrodisiac?

Last night, he’d been burning up too.

Si Nian had assumed he was just overheated.

Zhou Yueshen stared at her, his gaze dark and unreadable.

Finally, he spoke, his voice rough.

"These next couple days, I don’t want any more soup."

Si Nian froze, then her eyes widened in realization. "You drank the soup from yesterday?"