The farce in the yard came to an end, and the dilapidated wooden door was closed by Lin Wanrou’s trembling hands. She propped several wooden planks firmly against the doorframe, as if doing so could keep those man-eating demons at bay.
Inside the house, the light was dim, with only a few dusty rays seeping through the cracks in the windows.
Meng Yaya sat by the earthen kang, her little stomach letting out a long, drawn-out “guuu—”
This body was far too depleted. The half piece of hardtack she had eaten earlier had only taken the edge off her hunger, and the little energy it provided had long been exhausted when she threw the stones.
Hearing the sound, Lin Wanrou’s eyes reddened again. She turned and rummaged through the wooden chest that held only a few tattered clothes, hoping to find something edible, but all she found at the bottom were a few shriveled mouse droppings.
“Ya Ya, Mom is useless…” Lin Wanrou said with her back to her daughter, her shoulders slumping.
Meng Yaya jumped off the kang and toddled over to Lin Wanrou on her short legs.
“Mom, light the fire.”
Lin Wanrou was taken aback and turned around. “Light the fire? We have no grain left at home, only half a bag of chaff for feeding chickens. That’s not edible—if you eat it, you won’t be able to pass stool…”
“We have grain.”
Meng Yaya took Lin Wanrou’s hand and led her to the stove. Though the house was shabby, it fortunately had a small, separate earthen stove, so they didn’t have to squeeze into the large kitchen with that despicable family.
She looked around to make sure the doors and windows were tightly sealed, then focused her thoughts.
The grayish Spatial Warehouse opened once again.
With a wave of her small hand, a five-jin bag of refined white flour, a can of luncheon meat, two large tomatoes, and several eggs materialized on the stove.
Lin Wanrou was so startled she nearly fell backward.
The hardtack earlier was small enough to hide in a sleeve, but this bag of flour…
“Th-this… this…” Lin Wanrou pointed at the bag of flour, her lips trembling too much to form words. The flour was dazzlingly white, and the bag was printed with characters she couldn’t understand. It was nothing like the dull, grayish black flour from the supply and marketing cooperative.
“The immortal grandfather gave it,” Meng Yaya said without batting an eye, repeating the excuse she had prepared earlier and emphasizing it. “He said my body is too weak, and hitting bad guys doesn’t hurt enough. I need to eat meat to build strength.”
Looking at her daughter’s serious little face and then at the items that had appeared out of thin air, the last thread of materialism in Lin Wanrou’s mind snapped completely.
But none of that mattered.
What mattered was that her daughter could survive.
“The immortal grandfather… is a great benefactor.” Lin Wanrou fell to her knees with a thud and kowtowed toward the empty air. “Thank you, old immortal, for saving our lives.”
Meng Yaya pulled her up. “Mom, hurry and cook. I’m hungry.”
The word “hungry” worked better than anything else.
Lin Wanrou wiped her face and rubbed her thin, bony hands hard against her clothes before daring to touch the precious bag of white flour.
She scooped the flour and added water.
Lin Wanrou was actually quite skilled in the kitchen, but during all these years in the Meng family, even the most capable housewife couldn’t cook without rice. Now, with top-quality ingredients, even if it was just a simple dough drop soup, she poured all her effort into it.
The water boiled.
Meng Yaya deftly pried open the luncheon meat can with her Swiss Army knife.
An intense, overpowering aroma of meat instantly exploded in the cramped room.
Lin Wanrou smelled the aroma and couldn't help swallowing. This was meat! She couldn't even remember the last time she had eaten meat—it seemed like it was during the New Year celebration the year she first married into the family, when she was given a piece of fatty pork the size of a fingernail.
"Put it all in," Meng Yaya directed.
"All of it? This whole big piece…" Lin Wanrou's hands trembled slightly. "Why not save half for your next meal?"
"All of it," Meng Yaya insisted, her tone leaving no room for argument. As she spoke, she tossed the chopped tomatoes into the pot.
The red tomato juice blended into the boiling broth, the sweet and sour fragrance mingling with the savory aroma of meat, making one's soul feel as if it were about to float away. Salivating, Lin Wanrou quickly stirred the batter, using chopsticks to scoop it into small, uniform fish-shaped dumplings that dropped into the rolling soup.
Finally, she cracked two eggs, whisked them, and drizzled them into the pot. The egg flowers floated to the surface, golden, bright red, and snowy white, weaving together into a pot of extraordinary beauty.
The aroma was overwhelming.
Even with the doors and windows tightly shut, the domineering fragrance still seeped out through the cracks.
Meng Yaya sniffed the air and nodded in satisfaction. This was food fit for humans.
Two steaming bowls of dumpling soup were placed on the heated kang table.
The chipped, coarse porcelain bowls were filled to the brim with ingredients.
The luncheon meat, cut into large cubes, had absorbed the broth and looked soft, glutinous, and savory. The dumplings were translucent, coated in the thick soup.
Lin Wanrou pushed the bowl filled with meat toward Meng Yaya and picked up the other bowl, which had more soup and less meat.
"Mom, switch," Meng Yaya frowned, directly pushing her own bowl over and snatching Lin Wanrou's bowl.
"Ya Ya, you're at an age when you need to grow…"
"I have strength, you don't," Meng Yaya said, scooping a large spoonful into her mouth.
The scalding broth slid down her esophagus, soothing her long-shriveled stomach. The sweet and sour flavors whetted her appetite, the dumplings were chewy, and the luncheon meat was savory and perfectly seasoned.
She felt alive again.
This was the taste of living.
Watching her daughter eat so heartily, Lin Wanrou felt tears welling up again. She lowered her head and carefully took a sip of the soup.
Delicious!
So delicious it felt as if her tongue would melt.
With that one sip of hot soup, Lin Wanrou felt as if her long-dead heart had begun to warm up again.
She stopped protesting and began eating in large mouthfuls.
This was the best meal she had ever eaten in her life. There was no cursing from Wang Guifen, no fists from Meng Jingui—only the sound of her daughter slurping soup beside her.
After finishing a large bowl of dumpling soup, both mother and daughter broke into a light sweat.
Meng Yaya's small face flushed pink, and much of the ashen, lifeless pallor faded from her complexion. Color returned to Lin Wanrou's face, and a glimmer of light finally appeared in her once dull, vacant eyes.
It was hope.
"Mom, are you full?" Meng Yaya put down her bowl and let out a satisfied burp.
"Full, very full," Lin Wanrou replied, stroking her daughter's head with a complicated expression.
After eating such a heavenly meal, what would they do if there was nothing left to eat in the future?
"If you're full, it's time to work," Meng Yaya jumped off the kang and stretched her limbs.
The energy from the meal was rapidly converting inside her body. Although she hadn't recovered even one percent of her peak Post-apocalyptic world strength, she was already in much better shape compared to her earlier state of near-collapse.
The Ability Core in her Spatial dimension rotated faintly, sending a warm current flowing through her entire body.
Just as Lin Wanrou was about to clear the bowls and chopsticks, she suddenly froze.
She stared at the door in terror.
A flurry of hurried footsteps echoed in the courtyard, accompanied by the excited barking of the large wolfhound.
"What's that smell? Why is it so fragrant?"
A sharp, shrill voice erupted in the yard—it was Second Aunt Zhang Cuihua, sounding like a fly drawn to the scent of blood. "Well, well! Those two jinxes really are stealing food! I knew that little brat couldn't have gotten her strength from nowhere—turns out she's been eating behind our backs!"
"Mother! Come quick! They're cooking meat!"
This was followed by Wang Guifen's grating voice, filled with the shame of having her pants pulled down earlier and a greedy hunger for food. "How dare they! Using my burial money to buy meat! I'll tear the mouths off those wasteful women!"
The dilapidated wooden door was pounded with loud, heavy thuds, causing dust to rain down from the doorframe.
Lin Wanrou's chopsticks clattered onto the table, her face instantly turning ashen.
The fear etched deep into her bones made her instinctively want to curl into a ball.
But Meng Yaya smiled.
She walked to the door, picked up the wooden stick used to bar it, and weighed it in her hand.
Perfect weight.
"Mom, don't be afraid."
Meng Yaya turned back, her clear black-and-white eyes showing no trace of panic. Instead, they gleamed with an eager excitement.
"Time for some post-meal exercise."