Lin Wanqiu's back, carrying a hoe, walked home, his figure like a stubborn reed in the moonlight—just half an hour ago, he had nearly scared me into falling into a ditch, but now his back was ramrod straight, even his steps exuding a calm and steady gait. Shen Tingzhou, hidden behind the thick trunk of a pine tree, unconsciously rubbed his knuckles against the old leather belt at his waist, his eyes filled with a confusion deeper than the night.

He stared at the figure as it turned into the courtyard until the dim light of a kerosene lamp shone through the window, then slowly withdrew his gaze. He should have left immediately when Zhang Lan ran up the mountain, making a ruckus—the mission required him to avoid any involvement with anyone, not even his wife and children. But seeing Lin Wanqiu standing with her hands on her hips, arguing with Zhang Lan, he inexplicably stopped, even his breathing becoming lighter.

He hadn't been completely oblivious for the past six months. A month after the memorial service, he hid in the old locust tree at the village entrance, watching Lin Wanqiu sit on the doorstep, holding Nian'an, weeping. Her shoulders trembled with sobs. Even when Old Lady Shen took away the only half-sack of cornmeal in the house, she only dared to plead softly. Back then, she was like a frost-bitten cabbage, so fragile she'd fall over at the slightest breeze. She was nothing like the sharp-tongued, confrontational woman she was tonight.

What puzzled him even more was the bamboo basket. When Lin Wanqiu hurriedly pushed him to hide, the basket overturned, revealing several neatly wrapped packets of seeds in kraft paper, and a small bag of something dark and smelling like fertilizer. These were not items an ordinary farmer would possess, especially the fertilizer. He had seen similar well-rotted organic fertilizer on military farms, which was scarce even in the commune's experimental fields. How could Lin Wanqiu, a widow, have obtained such a thing?

And then there was that milk candy. He pulled a crumpled oil paper package from his pocket, inside which were two milk candies—he'd gone to great lengths to get them from the county supply and marketing cooperative through a comrade, intending to secretly leave them at the gate. But when he saw Lin Wanqiu take out another milk candy and give it to Nian'an, his fingers froze. He clearly remembered that they hadn't even found a single fruit candy in the house long ago. Where did Lin Wanqiu get a second milk candy? Could it be… that she traded it with someone?

The thought had barely crossed his mind when he suppressed it. The Hongqi Production Brigade was so small; he knew better than anyone who had candy who didn't. Besides, given Lin Wanqiu's past personality, even if she had candy, she would have prioritized Old Lady Shen and her sister-in-law's family first. She would never have given it to Nian'an so readily, and even dared to challenge Zhang Lan like she did tonight.

The more he thought about it, the more confused he became. He simply went around to the back wall of the courtyard. There was an old elm tree there, its branches reaching right to Nian'an's window. He quietly climbed the tree and peeked through the crack in the window—he saw Lin Wanqiu sitting by the bed, tucking Nian'an in, her movements so gentle they could melt hearts. Nian'an had a milk candy in her mouth, her little face full of smiles, her eyes shining like stars. She was completely different from the person she was six months ago—so thin she was practically skin and bones, afraid to even speak loudly.

"Mommy, will we be able to eat sweet steamed buns again tomorrow?" Nian'an asked vaguely, snuggling her little head into Lin Wanqiu's arms.

"Sure." Lin Wanqiu's voice was very gentle as she gently stroked Nian'an's hair. "Once Mom plants vegetables on the hillside behind the house and sells them, I'll buy you more delicious food so you can grow tall and strong, even stronger than the little tiger next door."

Shen Tingzhou's heart clenched. Steamed buns? He had secretly delivered coarse grain cakes twice in the past six months, each time not daring to show himself, only daring to leave them at the courtyard gate at night. But judging from Nian'an's words, Lin Wanqiu could not only ensure that Nian'an had steamed buns, but also guarantee "there will be more tomorrow"? This wasn't just a matter of secretly eating one or two meals; had she found some stable source of food?

Just then, Lin Wanqiu got up and walked to the table. From a worn-out wooden box, she took out a small cloth bag. She opened the bag very gently, as if she were handling some treasure. Shen Tingzhou squinted, and by the light of the kerosene lamp, he could vaguely see some glittering things inside the bag—it looked like…silver?

His heart skipped a beat. He knew about Lin Wanqiu's dowry—just an old wooden chest and a few patched clothes. Where did the money come from? Had she secretly sold something? Or…was someone helping her?

The thought instantly put him on alert. He slid down the tree trunk, landing almost silently. His hand unconsciously reached for the gun at his waist—although he couldn't easily use weapons while on a mission, he would never stand idly by if anyone dared to harm Lin Wanqiu and Nian An.

He circled the courtyard but found nothing unusual. There were no signs of climbing on the walls, and only Lin Wanqiu and Nian'an's footprints on the dirt by the door; not even a stray dog ​​had approached. This was even stranger—Lin Wanqiu had neither contacted outsiders nor left the village, so where did the seeds, fertilizer, steamed buns, and silver come from?

Could it be… that she'd met a benefactor? Shen Tingzhou frowned, name after name flashing through his mind. He knew everyone in the village. The village head was a kind man, but his family wasn't wealthy; Aunt Wang next door was kind-hearted and would occasionally give Lin Wanqiu a sweet potato or two, but she couldn't afford so many good things; the commune? Lin Wanqiu didn't even know which way the commune gate faced, how could she possibly know any benefactors?

The more he thought about it, the more uneasy he felt. He simply leaned against the old elm tree outside the courtyard wall, intending to wait until Lin Wanqiu was fast asleep before leaving. The night wind blew by, carrying the earthy smell of soil and the croaking of frogs from the distant rice paddies, but he had no mind to appreciate any of this—his mind was filled with thoughts of Lin Wanqiu's appearance tonight.

When she was arguing with Zhang Lan, her eyes were wide open, like a cat with its fur standing on end. Her voice was trembling, but she still stubbornly refused to show weakness. When she gave Nian'an milk candy, she smiled and her gentle eyes could melt anyone's heart. When she mentioned growing vegetables to sell for money, the certainty and expectation in her tone were something he had never seen before.

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