A Bowl of Egg Soup
Lin Shu barely slept that night.
The rain stopped sometime before dawn, leaving only the sound of dripping water outside the house.
His fever had mostly faded, but the memories in his head remained painfully clear.
Every cruel thing the original owner had done replayed endlessly.
Especially toward the children.
Lin Shu rubbed his face tiredly before slowly climbing out of bed.
The room was simple and poor.
A wooden cabinet stood crookedly near the wall, and the patched blankets smelled faintly of smoke.
Through the thin window paper, pale morning light seeped inside.
Then his stomach growled loudly.
He froze.
Right.
He hadn’t eaten since yesterday.
Carefully, Lin Shu pushed open the door and stepped into the main room.
The moment he appeared, silence fell.
Zhao Mei stopped cutting vegetables.
Zhao Jun’s expression darkened instantly.
Even little Zhao An lowered his head quickly and moved closer to his sister.
Only Zhao Cheng continued fixing a farming tool near the doorway as though Lin Shu didn’t exist.
The atmosphere was painfully tense.
Lin Shu swallowed awkwardly.
“I… I’ll make breakfast.”
“No need.”
Zhao Jun spoke before anyone else could.
“We don’t want anything you make.”
The boy’s hostility was sharp enough to cut skin.
Lin Shu paused.
In truth, the original owner often tampered with food whenever angry.
Sometimes he purposely gave the children burnt rice while secretly keeping better portions for himself.
No wonder they reacted this way.
Lin Shu quietly nodded instead of arguing.
“…Okay.”
His obedient reaction startled everyone slightly.
The old Lin Shu would have already started screaming insults.
Zhao Cheng finally looked up.
His gaze lingered on Lin Shu for a moment, deep and unreadable.
Then he stood and placed a few copper coins on the table.
“Mei’er, buy some tofu later.”
“Alright, Father.”
Lin Shu noticed immediately that Zhao Cheng did not hand the money to him.
The family clearly no longer trusted him with finances.
And honestly?
That was understandable.
Lin Shu walked carefully toward the stove area.
“Then… I’ll boil water.”
Nobody stopped him.
The kitchen corner was tiny, and the firewood felt damp from yesterday’s rain.
Lin Shu crouched near the stove awkwardly, trying to remember how ancient people even started fires.
After several embarrassing attempts, smoke exploded into his face.
“Cough—!”
His eyes watered immediately.
Behind him came a sudden snort.
Zhao Jun crossed his arms mockingly.
“You can’t even light a stove now?”
Lin Shu coughed helplessly.
“I really forgot…”
The boy rolled his eyes.
Liar.
But before Zhao Jun could continue mocking him, Zhao Cheng walked over silently, crouched beside the stove, and relit the fire with practiced movements.
Warm orange light flickered across his sharp features.
Up close, Lin Shu realized Zhao Cheng was actually very handsome.
Not delicate like scholars in dramas, but rugged and steady like the mountains themselves.
Unfortunately, his expression toward Lin Shu remained ice-cold.
“Move aside,” Zhao Cheng said flatly.
Lin Shu quickly shifted away.
A few moments later, water finally boiled.
The room gradually filled with warmth.
Lin Shu glanced around and spotted several eggs in a basket nearby.
Only three.
Probably precious for this poor family.
He hesitated before quietly picking one up.
“I’ll make egg soup.”
Zhao Mei looked shocked.
The original Lin Shu never willingly cooked eggs for the children.
Usually, he secretly ate them himself.
Zhao Jun narrowed his eyes suspiciously.
“What are you planning now?”
“Nothing,” Lin Shu answered honestly.
He carefully cracked the egg into boiling water and added wild vegetables Zhao Mei had chopped earlier.
The smell soon became surprisingly comforting.
Simple.
But warm.
When the soup was done, Lin Shu automatically served the largest portions to the children first.
Little Zhao An stared at the bowl in front of him as though he couldn’t understand what was happening.
Even Zhao Cheng frowned slightly.
Lin Shu finally served himself the smallest portion.
The room remained silent.
No one touched their food.
Lin Shu blinked awkwardly.
“…You can eat.”
Zhao Jun suddenly stood.
“I’m not eating that.”
The boy grabbed his bowl and dumped the soup into the dog’s dish outside.
Lin Shu froze.
The sting in his chest surprised him.
Not because of the wasted soup.
But because he knew this distrust had been earned through countless hurts.
Zhao Mei looked uncomfortable.
“Jun’er…”
“What if he poisoned it?” Zhao Jun snapped angrily.
“You forgot what he did last winter?!”
The girl fell silent instantly.
Lin Shu lowered his eyes quietly.
“I didn’t poison it.”
Nobody answered.
Then, unexpectedly—
Little Zhao An slowly picked up his bowl.
Everyone stared.
The small boy looked terrified, but after hesitating for several seconds, he carefully drank a tiny sip.
Lin Shu’s heart tightened.
The child was trembling.
As though even accepting kindness felt dangerous.
After swallowing, Zhao An blinked in surprise.
“…It’s good.”
The room became silent again.
Zhao Jun looked furious.
“An’er!”
But the little boy shrank back immediately, clutching the bowl protectively.
Lin Shu suddenly felt something warm and painful spread through his chest.
It was only one sip of soup.
Yet for the first time since arriving in this world, someone had accepted something from him without fear.
Even Zhao Cheng’s gaze shifted slightly as he watched the scene.
Though the coldness in his eyes did not disappear completely.
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