"It doesn't hurt anymore." Song Shuyao lowered her head slightly, not daring to look into Jiang's mother's eyes. She was afraid of being exposed. After all, she wasn't the real Jiang Shuyao, the little girl doted on by her family. She was just a lonely soul from another world, the kind that would die in a single-family villa without anyone noticing or being saddened for a short time. The moment she moved out, she had severed ties with her family. Her biological mother had long since passed away, and her biological father only cared about her stepmother and her child. He had never cared about her, didn't contact her during holidays, and didn't worry about her. To him, she was nothing. The only people who might be sad about her death had passed away before her. Probably, in the end, it would be up to those few friends or partners in the photography studio to collect her body and bury her.
How pitiful.
Song Shuyao didn't feel too upset when she thought about this. After all, she had already known this in her heart. The only thing that was unexpected was that she died suddenly and traveled to the 1960s. She couldn't predict such a weird thing, so she couldn't blame herself for not making proper arrangements for her funeral. She just hoped that her body would not have rotted when someone found it. Dying too ugly didn't seem to fit in with her image as a beauty since she was a child. But this was not something she could worry about. After all, she was already in the 1960s.
Jiang's mother didn't know that Song Shuyao had thought so much in such a short period of time. When she heard that the pain was gone, her worries eased a little. She put the chopsticks in her hand and let her eat noodles. There was a bedside table next to the bed, so she could eat noodles while sitting on the bed, which was very convenient.
Song Shuyao took the chopsticks and looked at the large bowl of noodles, which were thin noodles with pork and fried eggs. She remembered that although the Jiang family was not as financially constrained as others, they did not eat these thin noodles often. It was not because they were reluctant to spend money, but because food was rationed in those days. Adults with urban household registration were entitled to 30 kilograms of food per month. For workers, the amount varied according to their jobs, but it was not too different, fluctuating around 30 kilograms.
And these 30 kilograms of food are not all fine grains, but a mixture of coarse grains and fine grains. During the 1960s, there was a month when all the food was coarse grains such as sweet potatoes. Now it is 1962. Although the disaster has passed, we have not recovered yet. The amount of fine grains we can receive every month is still very little. We basically eat coarse grains mixed with fine grains at home. Even when relatives come to visit, we have such conditions. Being able to prepare such a large bowl of fine noodles is enough to show how important Jiang Shuyao is at home and in Jiang's mother's heart. The sons-in-law and grandchildren who come to visit with their own rations still eat coarse grains mixed with fine grains.
Song Shuyao, who had never been loved like this by her elders, was even more confused about what expression to put on. She could only ask, "Have you eaten yet?"
Mother Jiang was very happy to see that her little girl cared about her first because she hadn't eaten herself. She had given birth to so many children, and only her little girl would care about whether she had eaten. No wonder she favored her.
"Mom will watch you eat, and if you eat, I'll go out to eat."
Hearing this, Song Shuyao said, "I can't eat so much either. Go get another bowl and I'll share half with you." She couldn't say the word "mom" yet, so she could only fool him.
When Jiang's mother heard this, her eyes became even more loving. "Mom has some delicious food in the pot. You're weak because your fever just subsided. You should eat something good. Eat more. Don't worry about me."
After saying this, she was worried that the little girl would insist on sharing the noodles with her, so she didn't stay long and asked her to leave the bowl after she finished eating, and she would collect it later.
Song Shuyao paused as she watched Jiang's mother's slightly touched expression before she left. She felt as if she had misunderstood something. She truly couldn't finish such a large bowl of noodles. Were bowls these days the same size as small basins? She searched the original owner's memories, but to no avail. Seeing this, Song Shuyao put it aside and picked up the noodles to eat. They tasted surprisingly good.
What surprised her the most was that she ate the entire bowl of noodles without feeling full?
After a pause, Song Shuyao realized that the original owner's stomach was different from her own, a cat's. It was also because of the lack of food and drink in those days, and the lack of oil and water. Didn't everyone have to eat more to feel full? Of course, this large bowl was still a bit beyond the original owner's usual appetite, probably because she had eaten less for the previous two meals due to illness.
Song Shuyao stopped thinking about it. After finishing her meal, she looked at the empty bowl in front of her and listened to the noisy and bustling sounds outside. Finally, her eyes fell on this small room. She couldn't help but sigh. Was she really going to become like Jiang Shuyao? Putting aside the engagement, just this house, this independent little room that was envied by all the girls in the family building, was not even as big as the bathroom in her villa bedroom. Could she really live like this for years?
"Alas~" I suddenly miss my own villa. What should I do? I used to go out and live in the villa less often, but now I can't live there even if I want to. Song Shuyao felt a little depressed. Just when she was worried about herself, the scene in front of her suddenly changed...
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