"Because of the drought, I met the town mayor a few times. He thought the information I provided was valuable and arranged a job for me."
Grandma Zhong couldn't help but think that if her granddaughter had gotten this job earlier, she wouldn’t have married her current son-in-law. Such was fate.
Uncle Zhong wasn’t much of a talker, but he respected his sister and deeply cared for his niece. He said,
"Since you’re married now, make the best of it. Your husband is away most of the time, so if you ever need help with chores, just send word. I’ll bring your two younger uncles to lend a hand!"
The elderly couple kept piling food onto the plates of the younger ones during the meal. Siqi had a small appetite, and Sizhe felt too shy to eat much, so there was plenty of meat and vegetables left over.
Before the meal, Nan Sheng had asked her aunt to set aside some dishes for the two younger uncles in advance, but she refused. Now, with these leftovers, the brothers would at least have a hearty meal.
The next day was a day off, and Nan Sheng planned to take the two children to stay overnight in Wangshan Village. On their way back, they stopped by the black market, where she bought a good amount of fatty pork and lean meat.
There were also canned goods available, so she took four cans—two for the children and two for her parents.
She hadn’t forgotten her mother’s request either and picked up a piece of navy-blue cotton fabric for Lin Han, enough to make two sets of clothes.
As she stepped out of the clothing yard, she ran into Shitou again. He looked displeased. "Sis Nan, why didn’t you tell me you were coming? I know people here—could’ve gotten you at least half off."
Nan Sheng didn’t want to keep taking advantage of others, so she brushed him off. "I saw how busy you were from outside and didn’t want to bother you. Next time, I’ll definitely ask for your help."
With the weather getting hotter, the ice trade was visibly booming. Though not as profitable as dealing in grain, it was nothing to scoff at.
Shitou grinned. "Sis Nan, just wait for your share of the profits!"
After leaving the black market, Nan Sheng reunited with the children and hurried toward Wangshan Village.
Seizing the opportunity, she planned to dissolve a medicinal pill in water for the family to drink, especially Nan Jingyu, who worked daily and had worn himself out.
Her daughter had visited just yesterday, and now she was back again. Zhong Yanyan’s face crinkled with joy—until she saw what they were carrying. She nearly twisted Nan Sheng’s ear off.
"You’re too wasteful! I told you to buy fabric, not meat and canned goods. Do you know how much grain you could’ve bought with that money?"
Sizhe quickly stepped in to rescue his mother. "Grandma, don’t be mad. Mom biked all the way here with us and almost got heatstroke. Let’s go inside and talk."
How could Zhong Yanyan not dote on her daughter?
She immediately opened the canned hawthorn that her husband had been saving and chilled it with ice for them to cool down.
The slab of fat Nan Sheng bought would last them two months, and there was also seven or eight pounds of meat. Zhong Yanyan knew her daughter meant well, but they had to be frugal.
Soon, the aroma of rendered fat wafted from the Zhong family’s kitchen, making the neighbors next door salivate so much they had to shut their windows in the sweltering heat.
Who could blame them? Not everyone had a daughter who could bring home such luxuries.
Now, no one in Wangshan Village dared speak ill of the Nan family. Their son-in-law was a soldier, and their daughter worked for the government—how enviable!
Nan Jingdang, still fuming after being beaten by his older brother, took his frustration out on his wife and kids. Then, while sulking outside, he heard Nan Sheng had returned with the children.
His eyes gleamed with a scheme—maybe he could play the victim in front of his niece and squeeze some money out of her.
The moment he stepped into his elder brother’s yard, the rich scent of rendered fat hit him. His face twisted with jealousy. While he could barely afford meals, his brother’s family was indulging in slab fat?
What kind of brother showed so little care?
Barging inside in a huff, he nearly collided with the two children. They were holding a large bowl filled with crispy, golden cracklings—the kind that made mouths water just from the smell.
Nan Jingdang reached out to grab some, but Sizhe swiftly blocked him. Siqi glared fiercely. "Didn’t your mother teach you not to steal food from others?"
One could only wonder if Grandma Nan’s coffin lid would hold after hearing that.
Zhong Yanyan rushed over from the stove, mortified. "Big Bro, take your sister to the east room to eat."
The children obeyed and scurried off. "Little Brother, have you no shame? Since when do elders snatch food from kids?"
If the children mentioned this to their in-laws, how would they ever face them again?
Nan Sheng had just finished setting aside the cracklings when Zhong Yanyan announced they’d make dumplings. As she poured the rendered fat into an empty jar, Nan Jingdang started his usual nonsense outside.
"Sis-in-law, stop manhandling me! Have some decency! Remember when you slashed me with a knife? My hand hasn’t even healed—you owe me ten yuan!"
Nan Jingdang hated resorting to this, but his sister-in-law kept shoving him toward the gate before he could even catch a glimpse of his niece.
When Nan Sheng stepped out, she saw a man waving his arms dramatically. His features resembled Nan's Father’s, but on him, they looked shifty.
Then again, what else could you expect from a man who’d starved his own father?
Nan Sheng pulled out one yuan from her pocket and handed it to him. "Uncle, buy some antiseptic for that wound. Wouldn’t want it to fester."
Zhong Yanyan scowled. Why was her daughter giving him money? Once he got a taste, he’d never stop.
Sure enough, Nan Jingdang pocketed the cash and immediately pushed for more. "Come on, Niece, you’re being stingy. A wound like this is worth at least eight or ten yuan!"
Nan Sheng pulled her mother aside and motioned for Sizhe—who’d just peeked out—to go back inside with his sister. She could handle this alone.
"Uncle, one yuan is all you’re getting. No use throwing a fit."
Her voice was calm, unlike Zhong Yanyan’s loud scolding, but it carried an unshakable authority.
"Let me make this clear: if you ever come here causing trouble again, remember what I do for a living. I’m on good terms with the revolutionary committee. Cross me, and you’ll find yourself ‘reformed’ at the reservoir or a labor farm."
Nan Jingdang searched her eyes for any hint of bluffing, but all he saw was icy resolve.
She wasn’t joking. She’d do it.
A coward at heart, Nan Jingdang clutched the money and slunk away, muttering curses. Grandpa Nan never once came out of his room.
Zhong Yanyan grumbled about the wasted money, but Nan Sheng had a lesson for her too.
"Mom, the knife incident could’ve been serious. Giving him a little money closes the matter. Otherwise, someone might dig it up later and cause trouble.
Next time he shows up, provoke him into smashing things, then report him to the village head. With my government position, the militia will punish him harshly. Scare him enough, and he’ll never dare bother us again."
Zhong Yanyan shook her head. While satisfying, what would happen to his wife and kids? And if they made a mortal enemy of him, who knew what he’d do in a rage?
Mingli returned with firewood just as the meaty aroma filled the air. Sizhe spotted his uncle and hurried to help unload.
Watching Siqi cheer from the sidelines, Mingli smiled. The house had never felt so lively!
Siqi doesn't just know how to cheer—she also knows how to tattle. With a pitiful pout, she said,
"Uncle Zhong, a bad person came to the house earlier and tried to steal Qiqi's meat..."
