Old Mrs. Lin’s scolding was the daily morning alarm clock for this household.
“What time is it already? The sun is high in the sky and still no one’s making breakfast. Are you trying to starve this old bag of bones to death?” In the main hall, the old woman’s voice was sharp and piercing, cutting through the thin walls.
On the kang bed in the west room, Xu Yuxiang irritably turned over, pulling on her jacket while muttering under her breath, “Old hag, howling first thing in the morning!”
Beside her, Lin Yuanyuan buried her head under the quilt, complaining in a muffled voice, “Can’t you let people sleep?”
Hearing no response, the old woman raised her voice even higher: “Second son’s wife, are you dead in there? Are you deaf?”
Xu Yuxiang sat up abruptly, pointing at Lin Guozhu’s nose beside her: “Listen to that! Is that human talk coming from your mother?”
Lin Guozhu pulled on his shoes with a worried frown, pleading meekly, “Alright, alright, Mother is old. Why bother arguing with an old person?”
“Just because she’s old, she can trample all over people?” Xu Yuxiang had nowhere to vent her anger. Her eyes darted around, and her curses shot through the window, straight toward the low, humble woodshed in the corner of the yard. “Lin Qianqian, you lazy little wretch! Still hiding and playing dead in the morning! Get your ass out here and make breakfast!”
Listening to this scolding that bypassed her to target another, Lin Yulong in the woodshed looked angrily at his sister: “Grandma scolds her, and she scolds you. Sis, are you just going to let her bully you like this?”
Lin Qianqian didn’t respond, only gently pressing the cloth strip wrapped around her head. The cloth was already stained with a dark red bloodstain.
She stood up and said calmly, “I’ll make the meal.”
Lin Yulong was stunned. Even injured, she was going to cook? His sister was too soft-hearted.
Lin Qianqian pushed the door open and stepped out, her steps unsteady but firm.
In the main hall, Lin Guozhu saw the injury on his daughter’s head and his heart tightened. “Qianqian, what happened to your head?”
Lin Qianqian looked up, her gaze sliding over his face and landing on Xu Yuxiang, who had followed him out. She smiled faintly, almost mockingly. “What? Aunt Xu didn’t tell you?”
Xu Yuxiang glared fiercely at Lin Qianqian upon hearing this. This little wretch was doing it on purpose.
Just as Lin Guozhu was about to press further, Old Mrs. Lin shouted again from the main hall: “What are you standing there for? Waiting to drink the northwest wind? Still not making breakfast!”
Xu Yuxiang grabbed Lin Qianqian’s arm, afraid she might say something more.
Dragging her toward the kitchen, she hissed into her ear, “Hurry up and cook! You little bitch, you’re lucky you didn’t die. I’ll settle accounts with you later!”
Lin Qianqian endured the pain in her arm and said nothing. Yes, lucky.
Since Heaven didn’t take her, they could settle things slowly.
The country kitchen was filled with smoke.
Lin Qianqian silently washed the rice. The coarse grains were dark and unappealing. While Xu Yuxiang’s back was turned, she mixed a handful of small pebbles into the pot. Xu Yuxiang noticed nothing.
There was also a pot of wild vegetable soup and the hard flatbread from last night.
While she was busy, Lin Xiaohua sashayed in, clutching an egg. She cracked it on the edge of the stove and haughtily ordered Lin Qianqian, “Steam an egg custard for me. Make it tender, and add plenty of sesame oil.”
With that, she turned and left.
Xu Yuxiang eyed the egg and snorted sourly, “Hmph, only knows how to pamper her own. Can’t she see how many mouths there are to feed in this house?”
She shot a glance at Lin Qianqian and took her anger out on her: “What are you looking at? Do you have the fortune to eat eggs? Get the fire going!”
Lin Qianqian lowered her head, the firelight from the stove warming her cheeks, yet her heart felt as cold as ice.
These people, who seemed like family, were in truth less caring than neighbors.
Steamed eggs? I’ll steam your big-headed ghost.