Smoke curled between their lips, but Zhou Yueshen was afraid of choking her, so he let her taste just a hint of the tobacco before pulling away.
The tobacco grown by local farmers these days was far from cheap, and its scent wasn’t unpleasant either.
No wonder she occasionally caught a faint whiff of it, even though she had never seen Zhou Yueshen smoke before.
Si Nian opened her eyes, misty with emotion, and pressed her hands against his chest. In the dim light, she looked up to see his gaze filled with desire—as if he wanted to devour her.
She blinked and instinctively glanced downward.
The man immediately shifted back.
Si Nian: "..."
So, was that a reaction or not?
Since the Zhou family had come over today, Lin's mother had pulled out all the stops, preparing a feast.
There were two large plates of meat alone—one of cured pork and another of fresh meat, courtesy of Zhou Yueshen.
The cured pork was stir-fried with scallions, simple yet delicious.
The Lin family had also steamed rice, a favorite of the children.
Though it wasn’t as flavorful as Si Nian’s cooking, it was still quite good for a home-cooked meal.
The two Zhou boys sat obediently at the table, backs straight and manners impeccable.
Lin’s brothers watched them wide-eyed.
Only after the two had taken their seats did Lin's mother start serving the meal.
Being their first time as guests, the boys were a little shy.
Lin's mother, eager to make them feel welcome, enthusiastically piled their bowls with food—especially the fatty cuts of meat.
Zhou Yuehan took an eager bite, only for his hopeful expression to freeze.
He took another tentative nibble, finding it greasy and bland.
He glanced at his older brother.
Zhou Yuedong ate the meat in his bowl without a change in expression.
Then he looked at Lin’s brothers, who seemed completely unfazed.
Not daring to complain, Zhou Yuehan kept eating, though his little brows furrowed.
It wasn’t that Grandma’s cooking was bad—just not what he’d expected.
And with her constantly adding more meat to his bowl, he didn’t dare refuse.
The poor boy looked pleadingly at Si Nian, who was feeding his little sister.
She met his gaze, then noticed the towering pile of meat in his bowl.
A beat of silence passed.
"Mom, don’t worry about them. They eat well at home," Si Nian said.
Lin's mother realized—of course, the Zhou family owned a pig farm. They wouldn’t lack for meat.
Zhou Yuehan exhaled in relief.
After dinner, the rain had stopped.
Zhou Yueshen first took the children home, then returned for Si Nian.
Lin's mother had wanted them to stay the night, but since her daughter had already spent so much time at home, she didn’t press the matter.
By the time Si Nian and Zhou Yueshen arrived home, it was already dark.
Surprised to see the boys still awake—they usually went to bed early—Si Nian raised an eyebrow.
Zhou Yuehan hovered behind his brother, looking like he had something to say.
Just as she was about to ask, Zhou Yuedong stepped forward and looked up at her.
"Can... can you go to Yuehan’s parent-teacher meeting?"
Si Nian studied his serious little face, trying so hard to mimic Zhou Yueshen’s composure, though his eyes betrayed unease.
She almost laughed. Such a tiny kid, acting like an adult. She reached out and ruffled his hair.
Was that all? Just a parent-teacher meeting?
"Of course I can," she agreed easily.
Zhou Yuedong froze. This woman had just patted his head.
Behind him, Zhou Yuehan gaped, then looked between her and her hand—clearly wanting the same treatment.
Si Nian chuckled. What adorable kids. She tousled his hair too.
"Alright, off to bed now."
"Mm!" Zhou Yuehan nodded vigorously, glancing back at her every few steps as he headed to his room.
That night, he crept into his brother’s room, pillow in hand, too anxious to sleep.
"Brother... what if she finds out I’m bad at school? Will she stop liking me?"
Everyone liked smart kids.
For the first time, Zhou Yuehan regretted not studying harder.
Zhou Yuedong, half-asleep, barely heard him before drifting off again.
Left to his worries, Zhou Yuehan sighed heavily.
The next morning, Zhou Yuedong was shocked to find his brother already awake—and diligently reading on the sofa.
He rubbed his eyes, wondering if he was dreaming.
His brother never studied unless forced. What had gotten into him?
Zhou Yueshen had left early for the farm, so when Si Nian woke up, the boys were already doing homework in the living room.
Not wanting to disturb them, she headed to the kitchen.
The bag of wild garlic she’d brought back yesterday still needed processing.
Cleaning the tiny bulbs was tedious, requiring multiple rinses.
She had prepared several glass jars earlier—her pickled radishes were already well-marinated and could last for ages.
The wild garlic would be the same.
After half an hour of cleaning and a saltwater soak, she began pickling.
There were many simple ways to preserve garlic—10% salt by weight, seasoned with soy sauce, vinegar, and a pinch of sugar. Just one night, and it’d be ready to eat.
She placed the filled jar next to the radish pickles on the shelf.
The clear glass showcased the vibrant red chilies, white radish strips, and soy-glazed garlic—a feast for the eyes.
Surveying her well-stocked kitchen, Si Nian felt a deep sense of satisfaction.
The dried radish strips on the bamboo tray just needed a rinse and seasoning before serving.
With nothing pressing to do, she decided to forage for mushrooms—last night’s rain would have brought them out in abundance.
As a native of Yunnan, she’d grown up gathering wild fungi.
In this era, the mountains were full of treasures.
As part of the time-traveling generation, skipping a trip into the hills would be a waste.
Unfamiliar with the local terrain, she changed into long sleeves and pants, tied her hair up, and sought out the boys.
"Yuedong, Yuehan, do you know where the best mushroom spots are?"
The two looked up from their homework, eyes brightening.
"Mom, are you going mushroom picking?" Zhou Yuehan abandoned his pencil and dashed over.
He’d woken up early to study, planting himself at the table where she couldn’t miss him.
His efforts paid off—she’d made his favorite steamed eggs for breakfast.
Soft, silky, and fragrant, the memory of it still lingered on his tongue.
