When Lin Wanqiu's fingertips touched the bag of refined white flour, the fishy smell of the river still lingered in her nostrils, and the dull pain from being pushed on the back of her neck by Old Lady Shen hadn't completely dissipated. But none of this could compare to the sense of security brought by the bag of grain before her. She gently tore open the bag, picked up a little flour with her fingertips, and the fine powder fell into her palm with a soft patter, carrying the unique sweetness of grain—in the 1960s, when even coarse grains were distributed by the head, this was a treasure that could make one's mouth water.

She didn't dare linger. Using the dim light in the space, she found the mini iron pot in the corner and rummaged through the shelf next to it for half a bag of white sugar. She was already thinking about what to make for her son. She thought about the way Shen Nian'an looked at her by the river earlier. He was as timid as a frightened little animal. He was so thin that his neck looked like it would break if it were bent. She guessed that he had never had a proper meal in his life.

"Let's make a bowl of dumpling soup first. It's soft and easy to digest," Lin Wanqiu muttered to herself, scooping two bowls of purified water from her spatial storage into the iron pot and then lighting the fire. The flames crackled and licked the bottom of the pot, and the warmth quickly dispelled the chill on her body, also completely clearing her muddled mind—she was no longer the food blogger Lin Wanqiu who could easily cook a Manchu Han Imperial Feast in front of the camera. Now, she was Lin Wanqiu, a widow from the Red Flag Production Brigade in the 1960s, carrying a son who was so thin he was practically skin and bones on her shoulders, with a ruthless in-law family eyeing her with predatory intent. If she didn't stand up for herself, the mother and son would be tormented to death sooner or later.

The water boiled quickly. Lin Wanqiu scooped out half a bowl of flour, adding water droplets while stirring rapidly with chopsticks. Soon, round, snow-white dough balls floated to the surface. She then took out two eggs from the refrigerator in her space—these were rare items, costing cloth coupons and requiring stealth on the black market—and with a flick of her wrist, the golden egg liquid slid into the pot, instantly solidifying into fluffy egg flowers. She sprinkled a pinch of white sugar on top, and a sweet aroma immediately filled the space.

"Niannian, wake up, Mom has made you something to eat." Lin Wanqiu carried a steaming bowl out of the space and saw Shen Nian'an still curled up in the corner of the kang, his little brows furrowed and his lips chapped. Her heart ached again. She gently sat down on the edge of the kang and touched her son's forehead with the back of her hand. Fortunately, he didn't have a fever.

Perhaps the aroma was too tempting, for Shen Nian'an's little nose twitched, and she slowly opened her eyes. What eyes they were! Large and bright, yet filled with a timidity and wariness beyond her years, like a fledgling bird just pulled from its nest, staring at the bowl in her hand, swallowing hard, but not daring to reach out.

"Mother?" His voice was thin and hoarse, still groggy from just waking up, and tinged with uncertainty, as if he feared that everything before him was an illusion.

Lin Wanqiu felt a pang in her heart. She handed the bowl to her son and said in a soft voice, "It's Mom. Niannian, eat quickly. It's freshly made dumpling soup, still warm."

Shen Nian'an's eyes brightened, but she still didn't move. She just asked softly, "Mother, is this...is this for me? Will Grandma scold me?"

Upon hearing this, Lin Wanqiu's anger flared up instantly. That old hag Shen! She'd made the child so anxious about even eating a hot meal! Suppressing her anger, she stroked her son's dry, yellow hair: "Don't be afraid. With your mother here, no one can take your food away. Eat quickly, it won't taste good if it gets cold."

As she spoke, she picked up a spoon, scooped up a spoonful of warm dumpling soup, blew on it, and then brought it to Chen Nian'an's lips. The little guy hesitated for a moment, then opened his mouth. The dumpling slid into his mouth, and the sweet taste spread on his tongue. His eyes instantly welled up with tears, and he ate it in small bites, afraid that if he ate too fast, the delicious bowl would be gone.

Watching her son wolf down his food, Lin Wanqiu felt a mix of heartache and warmth. She took out a steamed bun from her spatial storage, wrapped it in a cloth, and placed it beside her, thinking that if her son was still hungry after finishing the noodle soup, she could let him have a couple more bites of the bun. She had seen this bun in her spatial storage earlier; it was vacuum-packed, and when she broke it open, she could see the fine air pockets. She was sure it would be soft and sweet if she took a bite.

Just as Shen Nian'an finished the last spoonful of dumpling soup and licked her lips contentedly, a loud banging came from outside the courtyard gate, accompanied by Old Lady Shen's shrill shouts: "Lin Wanqiu! You jinx! Open the door right now! Are you trying to starve me to death by hiding in the house and being lazy?"

Lin Wanqiu's eyes instantly turned cold. What was bound to happen, had finally happened. She patted Shen Nian'an's back and whispered, "Nian'an, be good, sit on the kang and don't move. Mother will go check on you."

Upon hearing her grandmother's voice, Shen Nian'an's face turned pale instantly. She gripped Lin Wanqiu's clothes tightly with her little hands and whispered, "Mom, don't go. Grandma will hit you."

"Don't be afraid, Mom." Lin Wanqiu held her son's little hand tightly and gave him a reassuring look. "You stay here and wait. Mom will go and talk to Grandma. We'll make sure she never bullies us again."

After saying that, she stuffed the remaining half of the steamed bun into Shen Nian'an's hand, pushed him further into the kang (heated brick bed), and then turned and walked to the door. She didn't open the door immediately, but took a deep breath, quickly calculating in her mind—Old Lady Shen's visit this time was most likely for the grain. The original owner still had some coarse grain from her dowry, which Old Lady Shen had probably already coveted. Now that she had "escaped death," Old Lady Shen would definitely come to plunder her.

"Lin Wanqiu! Are you deaf? If you don't open the door, I'll bang on it!" The banging on the door grew louder, and Shen Dasao Zhang Lan's voice could be heard mixed in: "Wanqiu, please open the door quickly. I'm worried about you. You fell into the river just now, and I was so anxious."

Lin Wanqiu sneered. Worried? They're probably worried that if she died, no one would be their servant, no one would bring out their family's food for them. She deliberately slowed her pace, lingering for a while before leisurely opening the door.

This chapter is not finished yet. Please click on the next page to continue reading the exciting content!