Chapter 8: Old Mrs. Su Was So Frightened She Broke Out in a Cold Sweat

Su Er took two pears and went to the neighboring village. The two villages were not far apart, about half an hour’s walk each way. She left at noon and returned by mid-afternoon, her head and shoulders dusted with thick, powdery snow, her face as dark as burnt lacquer.

At that moment, Tianbao had just finished her ration and was being held by Granny A, who was gently patting her back to help her burp.

“That old shrew from the Chen family is truly despicable! Those two pears were wasted on her!” Even before Su Er stepped inside, she was already grumbling loudly. “Everyone’s hunkering down for the winter now, living off stored grain. To avoid making Xiu’er’s situation difficult, I purposely went over outside meal times, and yet that woman still acted like I was freeloading! I worked at her place for two hours, and as dinner time approached, she started hinting for me to leave! She said fruit is rare, sure, but it’s just a little treat. For poor folk, it’s worth as much as a bowl of rice or porridge. Their family measures every meal carefully, saving every bite! Damn it! I never intended to eat a single grain in her house, couldn’t stand her attitude!”

Hearing this, He Da Xiang, feeling sympathy for her husband, quickly fetched a pot from the corner of the main room and placed it on the fire to heat the bowl of porridge he had left from midday. The kitchen was gone and couldn’t be rebuilt so soon, so for now they had to cook directly in the main room—just making do.

“Your mother specially saved you a bowl, guessed you’d be hungry. That old shrew! Not only did she leave you without food after all that work, she treated our man like a free laborer! I wonder if pinching every bite will make her rich! Bah!”

Su Er brushed the snow off himself under the eaves before entering, casually closing the main room door behind him, and sat by the brazier. The gentle warmth chased away the chill, and with his wife sharing his temper and their three children clamoring to knead his shoulders and pound his legs, Su Er immediately felt comfortable, releasing nearly half the frustration he had held in all the way home. “Home is still the most comfortable place.”

Though poor and struggling, being cared for at home filled every bone and crevice with warmth.

Old Granny Su emerged from the room holding Tianbao and hooked a stool to sit. In this bitter winter, with the house shaking and drafty everywhere, sitting by the brazier was much warmer than inside. She carefully pulled up the swaddling to shield the baby from the wind, her face calm. “Enough. When did we ever get a meal at her place? Since Xiu’er married in, she often comes back to help with chores when needed. Out of respect for Xiu’er, we don’t hold these things against her. Eat first, fill your stomach a bit.”

With Granny’s word, Su Er’s lips moved but he swallowed his reply, changing the subject. “Why didn’t I see Dad or the eldest when I came back?”

“Gone to the market to sell firewood,” Granny Su replied. “If it sells, we’ll get a few copper coins to buy some flour.”

A faint worry flickered in her eyes.

Firewood sold cheaply; even a cartload could only fetch enough for six or seven pounds of black flour—barely enough to feed the whole family for ten days.

Their grain supplies were nearly gone. Who knew if they could last until spring.

As she brooded, distant sounds of mournful crying and wailing echoed faintly, each note a helpless lament against their harsh reality.

Granny Su swallowed her sigh.

The fate of the poor was worth less than firewood.

The porridge on the brazier heated, its steam carrying a rough, coarse flour smell—not pleasant. The youngest, Yaobao, turned her head, glancing at the chipped porcelain bowl pulled from the collapsed kitchen, half-filled with thin black porridge speckled with bits of sweet potato.

She’d never seen such a thing before, but even her sparse memories found something to compare it to.

The neighbor’s hens in her childhood ate better food than this.

Su Er lifted the bowl, avoiding the chipped edge, and slurped a large mouthful. The hot porridge flowed down, warmth radiating through his body, reviving him completely. He smacked his lips in satisfaction, squinting his eyes with pleasure.

As for the harsh taste of black flour scratching his throat—it was nothing out of the ordinary; everyone had grown up eating this way.

Yaobao watched quietly, puzzled why something so unappetizing looked so delicious to her uncle.

She realized then that this family was far poorer and more desperate than she had imagined.

Pulling back her gaze, she thought for a moment, then reached out a small hand, clenched it, intending to wave it dismissively.

But she couldn’t move.

A dry, rough, large hand covered hers.

Confused, Yaobao looked up at Granny A.

She didn’t want to be human anyway. When she died, everything in her space would be buried with her.

There were still many fruits on the pear tree; she could take them all out to avoid waste.

From birth till now, everyone in this family had treated her well—no beating, no scolding—making her feel comfortable.

So she was willing to give.

As a token of gratitude for the warmth they gave her.

Granny Su broke out in a cold sweat, terrified.

If she hadn’t caught that little hand just in time, the family would have faced another pear-related disaster.

And the three little ones nearby!

The three children, aged three or four, were too young to understand what was appropriate to say or not. If any strange talk got out, Tianbao would really be seen as a monster!

Holding her granddaughter’s tiny fist, Granny Su calmly stood and returned to her room.

Only inside did she exhale deeply, gently patting the small hand. In a low voice she scolded, “You little girl, you scared Granny to death. Haven’t I told you the household affairs are for grown-ups to worry about? Granny knows you have good things—that’s Heaven’s gift and must be counted. Treasure, you hide them for now. When the family truly can’t make it, then you can bring some out, alright?”

Liu Yuelan, still confined for postpartum recovery and unaware of what had happened, asked confusedly, “Mother, what’s wrong?”

“Tianbao just tried to drop pears outside again! How can she just do that anytime, anywhere?”

“... *snicker!*”

The words “drop pears” immediately reminded Liu Yuelan of last night’s scene, making her burst into laughter.

“The kids, Xiao An, Xiao Wen, and Xiao Wu, are too young and careless. If one day they blab outside, it’ll be a big problem!” Granny Su glared at her. “You, as their mother, are too carefree, laughing at this.”

Liu Yuelan quickly composed herself, stifling a smile. “Mother, Tianbao just wants to lighten the family’s burden. Although pears don’t fill the belly like rice or porridge, they can be sold at the market for silver. In this bitter winter, such fine fruit is rare—wealthy townsfolk put them out as snacks during the New Year. Selling them could buy more rice and flour for the family.”

Originally, Liu Yuelan’s teasing about the Chen woman’s scheming was just a joke, but as she spoke, it turned into a genuine idea, her eyes brightening.

Granny Su knocked lightly on her forehead. “You really are carefree. Remember, Tianbao’s gifts are Heaven’s blessings, not to be taken lightly. Taking too much could bring backlash—it would ruin her fortune!”

Poor Tianbao could not speak.

“What fortune? Take everything if I want!

I just want to die!

Why is it so hard?”