With red-rimmed eyes, Tang Huan slowly opened her mouth and accepted the bite of food. The thought of moving out and living alone made her feel unbearably sad.
“Mom… I’ll come back to visit you.”
If they wouldn’t mind.
“Alright. When you come back, Mom will stew ribs, fry yellow croaker, stir-fry chicken, and make a vegetable dish. Do you like bok choy or Chinese cabbage?” Xing Cui turned back and kept slicing pork head meat, chatting nonstop as she cooked.
Mouth full of pork, Tang Huan listened to her list of dishes and sniffled in grievance.
“Mom… I don’t like eating vegetables.”
“You can’t skip vegetables,” Xing Cui said, slipping another piece of lean meat into her mouth. “How about some soft braised cabbage?”
Soft braised cabbage? Tang Huan felt even more wronged.
“I’ve never eaten it.”
“What kind of life have you been living?” Xing Cui sighed, finishing the pork and putting down the knife. She picked up another piece of lean meat.
Seeing that, Tang Huan quickly stopped her and whispered, “Mom… I want the fatty-lean mix.”
Xing Cui immediately switched the piece and put the good one into her mouth instead.
Watching her red-eyed, pitiful expression, Xing Cui couldn’t help smiling and patted her head.
“Don’t be afraid, Little Huan.”
She couldn’t guarantee anything about others, but if Meng Zeyan said there was a solution, then there would definitely be one.
“Mom, I can’t bear to leave you…” Tang Huan hugged her arm tearfully.
Xing Cui replied casually, “Then let’s eat soft braised cabbage tonight?”
Tang Huan nodded seriously. “Okay.”
She followed Xing Cui like a little shadow—wherever she went, she went too.
In the main room, Meng Zeyan sat on the sofa, able to see the courtyard clearly. He watched her follow Xing Cui back and forth several times.
To be honest, he hadn’t expected her to fight Li Feng.
And he hadn’t expected her to want to move out either.
Back to the Tang family?
No. With Li Feng there, she would never go back.
So she was planning to live alone?
Did she ever think about what would happen if Li Feng came looking for her again? A weak, thin girl like her—how would she handle it?
In three days, he would return to the army. It seemed he would have to deal with some hidden dangers first; otherwise, the old couple and a young girl alone really wouldn’t be safe.
During cooking, Xing Cui told her not to mention the move-out plan to Meng Qinghe yet. She would first prepare him mentally before talking.
That worked too. Tang Huan wasn’t sure how to bring it up anyway.
She sat on a small stool in the kitchen corner, quietly accompanying Xing Cui as she cooked.
In her past life, her parents had passed away when she was very young. Her brother always said they had loved her dearly, and she would always smile and say she knew.
But in truth, she didn’t remember their faces at all, nor her childhood. Everything she knew about her parents came from her brother.
She had imagined them through photos—but imagination was never real.
The only real parental warmth she had ever felt came from the Meng family.
So she naturally acted spoiled around Xing Cui, enjoying being treated like a child.
But now she had just said she was moving out—and yet her mother-in-law, who had been reluctant just moments ago, was now happily humming while stir-frying eggs.
“Fragrant flowers bloom all over the branches~~~ jasmine flowers, ah jasmine flowers~~~”
Tang Huan rested her chin on her hand, watching her hum cheerfully, cheeks puffed up slightly in grievance.
Annoying!
Was her mother-in-law secretly happy she was leaving?!
“Fresh fried eggs, Little Huan, want some?” Xing Cui asked as she served them.
“I do.” Even though she was sulking, she still spoke sweetly.
Xing Cui was clearly in a good mood.
Seeing that, Tang Huan became even more suspicious—but she still ate the eggs obediently.
When Meng Qinghe came home from work, none of them told him what had happened.
At dinner, he even asked why his wife was in such a good mood.
Xing Cui shot him a glare. “What good mood? I’m not happy at all!”
Then she glanced at Tang Huan—only to see the girl looking confused and pitiful.
She immediately corrected herself.
“Don’t listen to your dad, Little Huan. Mom is actually very sad.”
If she had looked even slightly sad while saying it, it might have been believable.
“Mom, what are you sad about?” Meng Qinghe asked, confused.
“Dad, do you want some wine? I’ll get it,” Meng Zeyan said.
“Drink!”
What a rare treat. Normally he had to ask permission to drink.
With alcohol on the table, Meng Qinghe temporarily forgot to ask about the “sadness.”
The wine smelled excellent—but only two cups were placed out.
Tang Huan glanced at the bottle a few times and finally gave in.
She wanted some too.
She stood up, ran back into the main room, and brought out another cup, placing it in front of herself without a word.
She didn’t say anything—but the meaning was obvious.
The bottle was near Meng Zeyan. He poured two cups for his father and himself.
Seeing her cup, he paused.
He didn’t think women couldn’t drink. He simply hadn’t prepared one because Xing Cui didn’t drink, and he didn’t know if she did.
So he filled her cup as well.
It was a casual family drink—no toasts, no rules. Just sipping slowly.
The aroma rose from the cup, stronger than anything she had smelled before.
She took a small sip.
A sharp heat spread through her throat, then slowly faded into a warm, mellow fragrance.
It tasted… surprisingly good.
She drank slowly, one small sip after another, and soon her cup was empty.
She set it down and looked up.
Whenever her father-in-law finished, Meng Zeyan would refill his cup—so naturally, she assumed he would refill hers too.
And he did.
He just didn’t say anything.
Another cup went down.
Then another.
At some point, he hesitated—she was drinking too fast, and he worried she might get drunk.
But before he could speak, she looked up at him, cheeks slightly flushed from alcohol, and shamelessly said:
“I want more~”