He usually sat far away from his mother during meals.
But why was Second Brother different?
Zhou Zedong glanced at his younger brother.
That kid was nothing but a mom-stealer.
As the older brother, he wouldn’t stoop to competing.
He carried his bowl and sat on the other side of Si Nian.
Shitou: "......"
Si Nian served each of the children a piece of braised meat, then gave Zhou Yueshen one as well.
Only after he took a bite did she ask, "Is it good?"
Zhou Yueshen tasted it. Though it was fatty, it melted in his mouth—rich but not greasy, leaving a lingering fragrance that was utterly addictive...
No wonder Yu Dong was always scheming to drop by for meals.
After a pause, he replied, "Delicious."
"Try this next, it’s even better—nice and chewy."
Si Nian served him a piece of braised pork intestine.
Zhou Yueshen shot her a look.
She had made this once before, though sparingly. Back then, he hadn’t thought much of it, only remembering the taste was excellent.
Under Si Nian’s expectant gaze, Zhou Yueshen met her eyes, his voice low and deliberate. "Si Nian, I may be older than you, but I’m still in my prime."
Si Nian nodded.
She knew—this man was built like an ox.
Perhaps because of his height, his muscles weren’t overly pronounced.
But stripped down, only she knew just how intimidating he really was.
She had initially worried about his late nights affecting his health, but she soon realized this man only needed six hours of sleep to be bursting with energy.
A rare hint of amusement flickered in Zhou Yueshen’s eyes.
Did she truly understand?
With children around, some things were better left unsaid.
After a brief hesitation, Zhou Yueshen took a bite.
Then, his brow lifted slightly.
If this wasn’t meant for nourishment, the flavor alone was astonishing.
Even better than last time.
"Good, right?"
Zhou Yueshen gave a slight nod.
"Are these parts easy to sell at the pig farm?" Si Nian asked.
Zhou Yueshen paused, then shook his head. "We end up with a lot leftover every day."
Since they couldn’t consume it all, letting it go to waste, they often gave it away with meat purchases—though some found the preparation too troublesome and refused.
Si Nian’s eyes lit up. "What if I turned the leftovers into braised dishes? Do you think they’d sell?"
Zhou Yueshen had already considered this when she first asked. He agreed, "They would. But you’d exhaust yourself."
Money wasn’t an issue for him, and he didn’t want her toiling for small profits.
In his eyes, Si Nian was meant to live comfortably.
Taking care of the children was already enough work.
Si Nian waved it off. "It’s fine. I’ll get my mom and the others to help."
Zhou Yueshen nodded. "Alright. But sales might be slow in the village. I’ll find you distribution channels—just focus on cooking."
With flavors like these, they’d fly off the shelves.
He truly believed Si Nian’s culinary skills were wasted just feeding their family.
Si Nian beamed. "Perfect! I’ll discuss it with my family."
In this era, opportunities to earn were plentiful. Though they weren’t strapped for cash, who would turn down extra income?
Now that her own life was stable, she wanted to lift her family up too.
Better than letting her talents go to waste.
Si Nian felt grateful she’d once pursued cooking techniques for the sake of good food. In the future, such recipes would be a quick internet search away.
But in this pre-digital age, they were treasures.
Though her parents and eldest brother’s family still lived together, her brother and sister-in-law would eventually branch off, and her two younger brothers had their own paths. So, Si Nian planned to have her sister-in-law handle pastries while her mother mastered braised dishes.
After dinner, Shitou reluctantly left the Zhou household under his grandmother’s scolding.
The children retreated to their rooms for bed.
Si Nian headed for a bath.
After cooking braised meat, she reeked of spices.
The only downside was the single large basin at home—bathing was far from convenient.
She resolved to commission a bigger wooden tub, one she could soak in.
Mid-bath, a knock sounded at the door.
A deep voice called from outside, "Si Nian, your sleepwear."
She realized she’d forgotten her change of clothes and hurried to crack the door open, reaching out a hand.
Zhou Yueshen’s gaze dropped to her slender, pale fingers, faintly silhouetted against the light, delicate and alluring.
His eyes darkened.
The air was thick with the warm, soothing scent of bath oils—not overpowering, just intoxicating.
With a slight push, the door swung open effortlessly.
His tall frame filled the doorway as he stepped inside.
Si Nian gasped, nearly slipping.
"Ah! Zhou Yueshen!"
He caught her, pulling her close, her head pressed against his chest.
Dripping wet, her body soaked through his thin shirt in an instant, the fabric clinging to his toned abdomen. His scent—a mix of faint tobacco and warmth—filled her senses.
Si Nian looked up.
In the dim light, their eyes locked.
Zhou Yueshen’s gaze was deep, dangerous.
Like a beast stirring awake.
Her lashes fluttered.
Zhou Yueshen studied her intently. "Warm enough?"
Si Nian shook her head.
Puzzled, she asked, "Are you hot?"
The corner of his mouth lifted. He leaned down, his throat working as his lips brushed hers. "A little. Overheated."
Her pulse jumped.
He closed the distance, kissing her softly.
His breath was scorching.
Instinctively, she tilted her chin up.
That slight motion ignited him.
His kiss deepened, her lips parting willingly, tongues entwining.
The bathroom was silent, soundproof.
Only their ragged breaths echoed between them.
Si Nian loved this space—it felt like theirs alone.
She looped her arms around his neck, rising onto her toes.
Zhou Yueshen’s hands gripped her waist, their bodies flush as the kiss grew feverish.
Her long lashes trembled, the fragrant steam wrapping around them, heady and sweet.
As her breathing hitched, Zhou Yueshen broke away, trailing kisses down her neck...
The bathroom burned with passion, while outside, the night remained still, everyone lost in dreams.
The next morning, Zhou Zedong woke up.
After tucking his little sister in, he dressed, pinned on his little red flower, and headed downstairs.
But the lower floor was still dark—Mom wasn’t up yet?
His gaze drifted toward the second floor, where a sliver of light peeked from under a door.
Shrugging, he went to the kitchen, reheated breakfast, and packed lunch.
Soon, his groggy younger brother stumbled downstairs, lured by the aroma.
"Mom?" Rubbing his eyes, the boy glanced into the kitchen—only to find Zhou Zedong instead.
The kid jolted awake. "Bro?"
Zhou Zedong eyed his disheveled state. How could someone his age still wear pants or shoes backward?
"Wash up and eat," he ordered sternly, sealing the lunchbox before heading to the table.
The two ate without seeing anyone descend from upstairs.
Puzzled but mindful of their father’s exhaustion, they decided against disturbing him.
Looks like they’d be walking to school today.
Neither minded—they were used to it.
Backpacks on, they set off.
The streets were lively.
Someone noticed the red flower on Zhou Zedong’s chest and whistled.
"Hey there, little man! What’s that pretty badge you’ve got?"
Zhou Zedong cast a glance at the other person, his young face devoid of any emotion. "A red flower," he said flatly before walking away without another word.
The other person: "…? I already knew it was a red flower."
