The sky outside the window was still thick with darkness, but Feng Yulan had already opened her eyes. She hadn't actually slept at all, but had just closed her eyes to get through those few hours.
The digital clock beside the bed showed 4:17, thirteen minutes earlier than the alarm she had set.
She moved her body carefully, trying not to disturb Zhang Shuo who was sleeping beside her.
The bruises on my back had become more sensitive overnight, and every slight friction brought a stinging pain. My right knee was swollen from the previous punishment of kneeling, and I could feel the skin being stretched tight when I bent it.
Feng Yulan tiptoed out of bed, stepping barefoot on the cold floor.
In the early morning hours of May, the air still carried the chill of the night.
She fumbled to put on the worn slippers, and her right big toe poked out from the crack and touched the cold ground.
The hallway was pitch black. She didn't dare turn on the light, fearing to disturb Zhang Shumin, who was sleeping in the master bedroom. Over the past three years, she had mastered the art of navigating the darkness, like a cat accustomed to nocturnal activity. She gently traced her fingers along the wall, counting her steps—seven steps, turn right, and the bathroom was right there.
The feeling of cold water hitting her face made her shudder. The woman in the mirror had two dark circles under her eyes, as if she had been beaten. She gently stroked the scar on her right cheek. The skin there was harder than the surrounding area and slightly raised.
That night two years ago, Zhang Shuo was drunk and pushed her against the wall, pressing the burning cigarette butt directly into her face.
"This is to teach you a lesson," he said, his breath reeking of alcohol, "so you know who your man is."
Feng Yulan shook her head, pushing the memories out of her mind. She still had a long list of housework to do and had no time to think about these things.
At 4:45, Feng Yulan was already standing in the kitchen. She gently opened the refrigerator and took out the soybeans she had soaked last night.
Zhang Shumin likes to drink freshly ground soy milk, saying that the ones she buys outside are all diluted with water. The grinder is too noisy, so she has to wait until after 5 a.m. to use it. By then, Zhang Shumin is usually awake and doesn't blame her for being noisy.
First, wash the rice and cook the porridge. Feng Yulan measured two cups of rice, then thought about it and returned half a cup. Last month, she'd put too much rice in, and Zhang Shumin accused her of being wasteful, forcing her to not eat staple foods for three days.
Turn the faucet to the minimum so that the water flow is as thin as a thread and no sound is made.
When she put the rice into the rice cooker, she heard a cough behind her. Feng Yulan froze and almost dropped the lid on the ground.
"You're up so early, are you a thief?" Zhang Shumin's voice was like a knife stabbing into her back.
Feng Yulan slowly turned around: "Mom, you're awake. I wanted to make breakfast early..."
"How much rice did you put in?" Zhang Shumin interrupted her, walked over to the rice cooker and lifted the lid. "With just this little rice, who will eat it after it's cooked? Are you deliberately not letting my son have enough?"
"I...I'm afraid I'll overcook it like last time..." Feng Yulan's voice became smaller and smaller.
Zhang Shumin sneered and scooped two cups of rice from the rice bag into the rice cooker. "My son works so hard, what's wrong with him eating a little more? Are you hoping he'll starve to death so you can find another man?"
Feng Yulan lowered her head and said nothing. Any excuses would only make the situation worse. Over the past three years, she had learned that silence was the best way to deal with the situation.
"Are the soybeans soaked?" Zhang Shumin turned to the refrigerator.
"It's done. I'll grind the soy milk right away."
"Wait a minute," Zhang Shumin suddenly grabbed Feng Yulan's wrist, digging her nails into her skin. "Have you washed your hands? Isn't it dirty to touch food right after getting up?"
Feng Yulan felt dizzy. She had already washed her hands, but she just nodded: "I'll wash them again."
While washing her hands, Feng Yulan saw Zhang Shumin checking the ingredients in the refrigerator through the frosted glass of the kitchen. Her mother-in-law stood straight, her short, jet-black hair meticulously combed, and she looked nothing like a 50-year-old.
Feng Yulan sometimes thought that Zhang Shumin spent all her energy on controlling the family and torturing her.
At 5:30, the roar of the bean grinder filled the kitchen. Feng Yulan stood beside the machine, watching the soybeans gradually transform into a milky white slurry. Her temples throbbed with pain, and her stomach felt empty but sour.
Since I didn't eat dinner last night, I haven't eaten for nearly twenty hours.
"Yulan!" Zhang Shumin's voice drowned out the sound of the machine. "Where's the side dish? Just porridge?"
Feng Yulan quickly turned off the grinder: "I'll get ready."
She took out the pickled radish from last night from the bottom of the refrigerator. This was the only food Zhang Shumin was not picky about because she taught her the recipe herself.
The radishes must be cut evenly, the ratio of salt, sugar and chili powder must be precise, and the drying time must be just right - one minute more or less will be grounds for scolding.
At 6:00, the aroma of porridge began to fill the air. Feng Yulan poured the ground soy milk into the pot and prepared fried eggs.
Zhang Shumin likes to eat it fully cooked, and the egg yolk must be completely solidified; Zhang Shuo likes it to be runny, but the egg white must be fried until crispy.
She had to keep an eye on both pots to make sure they were cooked to the right temperature.
"Mom, why are you here so early today?" Zhang Shuo's voice came from the living room.
Feng Yulan's hand trembled, and a drop of hot oil splashed onto the back of her hand, immediately leaving a red spot.
She bit her lip and kept silent, then quickly rinsed herself with cold water.
"Your wife deliberately keeps you awake, making noises before daybreak." Zhang Shumin's voice softened immediately. "Son, did you sleep well last night?"
Feng Yulan placed the fried egg on a plate and poured three bowls of porridge. The soy milk needed to simmer for a while longer, so she carefully skimmed off the foam. Sweat trickled down her forehead, and a drop fell into the pot. She glanced at the door in fear, but luckily no one saw her.
My dear, there is more to this chapter. Please click on the next page to continue reading. It will be even more exciting later!
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
