In the courtyard, Aunt Wu and the others had been busy all along. When they saw Song Nianchu return, they didn’t stop their work, only greeting her with a quick word.
"A-Chu, did you buy all the ingredients for tomorrow already?" Aunt Wu was astonished at the sight of the fully loaded cart Song Nianchu was pushing.
"Yes, the same amount as today. How’s the progress on your end?" Song Nianchu wiped the light sweat from her forehead.
"We’ve almost finished the morning tasks. We’ll handle the rest after lunch." Aunt Wu had been stir-frying nonstop all morning, her hands never idle.
"Alright, then you all should hurry back for lunch." Song Nianchu spoke gently. The whistle signaling the end of the work shift had already sounded when she reached the village office entrance.
"No rush, I’ll finish this last batch and then go." Aunt Wu smiled as she tossed the cumin squid in the wok.
"Okay." Song Nianchu didn’t press further and began unloading the goods from the cart.
With so much stock left here, Song Nianchu naturally had to stay and keep an eye on things. She asked Aunt Wu to pass a message to Mu Shi'an for her, saying she wouldn’t be back for lunch.
Aunt Wu nodded in agreement.
After unloading all the ingredients, Song Nianchu sat down on the nearby steps to rest.
Just as she was fanning herself with a straw hat, a shadow fell over her.
Looking up, she saw Meng Yingying standing before her.
"Comrade Meng? You haven’t gone back yet?" Song Nianchu was a little surprised.
"...No." Meng Yingying clutched the hem of her clothes, seeming like she had something to say but was struggling to voice it.
Song Nianchu straightened up, thinking she might have something important to discuss, and stopped fanning herself.
"Comrade Meng, it’s just the two of us here. If you have something to say, go ahead."
"That… Did you give Mu… Comrade Mu two hundred yuan as a betrothal gift?" Meng Yingying mustered the courage to ask.
"Huh?" For a moment, Song Nianchu wondered if she had misheard.
"Did you give Comrade Mu two hundred yuan to take him in as a live-in son-in-law?" Having said it once, the second time came more easily for Meng Yingying.
"Yes." Song Nianchu nodded.
She had thought Meng Yingying wanted to talk about the mistreatment she faced at home, but instead, she was asking about this.
"Good, I understand." After receiving Song Nianchu’s confirmation, Meng Yingying turned and hurried away.
Left alone, Song Nianchu was left with several big question marks hovering over her head.
What… did that mean?
What did she mean by "I understand"?
Was she so fed up with Wu Laosan’s abuse that she planned to divorce him and find herself a live-in husband too?
If so, Song Nianchu had to admire her courage.
Her thoughts quickly spiraled in different directions, jumping from one idea to another, until suddenly, there was movement at the village office entrance.
Looking up, she met a pair of deep, dark eyes.
"You’re here!" Song Nianchu flashed a bright smile at the figure in the doorway.
Mu Shi'an walked in carrying a lunchbox, followed by two little ones.
"Sister, we brought you lunch!" Mu Haoxuan excitedly threw himself into Song Nianchu’s arms.
"Good boy." Song Nianchu patted his head with a smile.
"Sister-in-law, here are the labels we printed this morning." Mu Yongnian handed over the stack of labels.
"Perfect! I was just thinking I forgot to ask Aunt Wu to tell you to bring them along. Thank goodness you did." Song Nianchu gave Mu Yongnian a thumbs-up.
Mu Yongnian bashfully averted his gaze.
"Alright, Haoxuan, let your sister-in-law eat first." Mu Shi'an gently reminded Mu Haoxuan.
Reluctantly, Mu Haoxuan stepped back.
"Eat while it’s warm." Mu Shi'an handed the lunchbox to Song Nianchu.
"Mm." She accepted it with a smile.
Opening it, she found golden millet porridge with a fried egg on top—slightly charred around the edges.
"I paid extra attention today. There shouldn’t be any eggshells in it," Mu Shi'an said.
"Then I’ll savor every bite." Song Nianchu picked up the egg and took a bite. True to his word, no eggshells.
Though it was still a little bitter from being overcooked, at least it was shell-free.
She finished the entire bowl of porridge, egg and all.
"I should be back earlier tonight. I’ll cook something nice for you all." Song Nianchu felt they’d been eating too lightly these past few days.
Healthy as it was, without enough richness, it was hard to keep energy up for work.
"Yay!" Mu Haoxuan clapped his hands in delight.
Honestly, his brother’s cooking wasn’t much better than their mother’s.
"Get back to work. I’ll take them home." Seeing she had finished eating, Mu Shi'an stood to leave.
"Wait—" Song Nianchu suddenly remembered something about the cart and wanted to mention it, but just then, the work whistle blew again.
"Never mind. Go ahead. I’ll tell you tonight." She swallowed her words.
"Alright." Mu Shi'an nodded.
No sooner had Mu Shi'an and the boys left than Aunt Wu and the others returned to the village office.
The afternoon was a whirlwind of nonstop work, but the results were better than expected—they finished much faster than Song Nianchu had planned.
"Aunt Wu, Hua, there’s too much to deliver this time. I can’t manage it alone. Would you mind coming with me?" Song Nianchu asked Aunt Wu and Hua.
As the village head’s family, they’d have to shoulder a bit more responsibility.
"Of course, we’ll go with you." Aunt Wu agreed without hesitation.
Song Nianchu divided the ingredients into two loads—hers slightly heavier since she was stronger and the cart was easier to maneuver.
Aunt Wu and Hua shared one cart, taking turns pushing on the long journey.
The three chatted and laughed along the way, making the trip to the cannery feel short.
Once inside the factory, Aunt Wu and Hua couldn’t help but look around in awe.
"So this is a factory? It’s huge! These buildings are even nicer than the ones in our village," Hua whispered to Song Nianchu.
"One day, we’ll build an even bigger one in Qinghe Fishing Village," Song Nianchu said with a smile.
"Bigger than this? Would I get lost inside?" Hua laughed.
"Don’t worry. You’ll learn your way around after a few trips." Song Nianchu hadn’t expected that to be her concern.
"True." Hua’s face lit up with hope.
But she thought it was just playful talk, never imagining that one day, those words would come true.
After the bottling at the cannery, the three hurried to the state-run restaurant, delivering the goods just before closing time.
By the time they returned to Qinghe Fishing Village, the sky had darkened.
They parted ways at the village entrance. When Song Nianchu pushed open her door at home, a series of loud clatters erupted from the kitchen.
Her heart sank. Dropping the cart, she rushed inside.