Lin Yulong, holding the flatbread and an egg, tiptoed back to the woodshed.
“Did you chase it away? What color was that stray cat?” Lin Qianqian asked.
“What stray cat? Haha… It was Brother Xiaohu.” Lin Yulong squatted beside her and stuffed the flatbread into her hand. “He brought us something to eat.”
Lin Qianqian felt the flatbread; it was still a little warm.
She was truly hungry. Ding Xiaohu had come at just the right time.
Just as she was about to take a bite, Lin Yulong reached out his hand, the egg lying in his palm.
Moonlight seeped through the cracks in the window, making the eggshell look pale white.
Lin Qianqian’s pupils contracted: “Where did that egg come from? Did you steal it? Are you trying to get yourself killed? Grandma will beat you to death if she finds out! Put it back right now!”
She knew Old Mrs. Lin’s temper all too well—eggs were precious things these days, saved to trade for salt or money. Anyone who dared touch one would be cursed so fiercely that even their ancestors eighteen generations back would crawl out of their graves.
She wasn’t fully recovered yet, and she didn’t want Ah Long to get beaten again.
It wasn’t so much that she feared Old Mrs. Lin, but rather that she understood the importance of biding her time. Now was not the moment to turn hostile.
“It’s not stolen!” Lin Yulong quickly explained. “Aunt Ding gave it! Sis, you eat it.”
Lin Qianqian was stunned: “Aunt Ding?”
Aunt Ding—Ding Xiaohu’s mother, Auntie Ding from next door. With three sons of her own and a tight household budget, she had actually given them an egg?
Lin Yulong had already peeled the eggshell, revealing the tender white egg white. He held the egg up to Lin Qianqian’s mouth: “Sis, eat.”
Lin Qianqian looked at the egg, then at Lin Yulong—the child was staring eagerly at the egg, his Adam’s apple bobbing. He was clearly craving it.
She didn’t refuse.
The original host had been severely injured and lost a lot of blood; she really did need nourishment.
She opened her mouth and ate the egg.
The egg white was smooth and tender, the yolk fragrant and glutinous. As she swallowed, she almost cried from emotion—the first decent meal since crossing over was actually just an egg.
After finishing the egg, she started gnawing on the flatbread.
The flatbread wasn’t as pleasant.
It was dark and coarse, mixed with some kind of husk that scraped her throat, making it hard to swallow. She chewed half of it before barely managing to get a mouthful down.
Beside her, Lin Yulong was eating with great relish, wolfing it down as if it were some rare delicacy.
Lin Qianqian watched him, her heart aching.
What had this child been eating normally? Probably something ten times worse than this flatbread.
She took two bites, then handed the flatbread in her hand over: “Sis is full. You eat this for me.”
Lin Yulong was taken aback and quickly waved his hands: “Sis, I’ve had enough, you eat it!”
“Ah Long, Sis really can’t eat anymore,” Lin Qianqian repeated.
Lin Yulong looked at her; she didn’t seem to be lying. Only then did he take it and stuff it into his mouth in a few bites.
How could one flatbread be enough? A growing boy eats like a horse; it’s the age when he can eat a lot. But he knew Aunt Ding’s family wasn’t well-off either. With three growing boys, food was precious. Being able to give them two flatbreads and an egg was already a huge kindness.
Lin Qianqian leaned against the wall, watching Lin Yulong eat.
Moonlight seeped through the cracks in the window, shining on his face.
The nine-year-old child was so thin his chin was pointed, his face bruised and battered, yet he ate like a little wolf cub, as if he wanted to suck his fingers clean.
She suddenly felt that this younger brother needed to be raised well.
He wasn’t picky and was sensible—it was just that he was a bit heartbreaking.
We cannot let Nok starve any longer.
Splitting the household cannot wait any longer.
We will start tomorrow.