A shrill scream tore through the air—but it wasn’t Zhang Dafu’s.
While running, Zhang Dafu slammed into Wang Shufeng, who was busy holding up her pants. As she fell, she stepped right onto Liu Xiangyang’s elbow—just as he was trying to push himself up.
A faint crack sounded, followed by Liu Xiangyang’s pig-slaughter scream.
Village brawls were common. If people didn’t see eye to eye, they rolled up their sleeves and fought. Even if they got bruised, they could still go home and cook afterward.
But from the sound of Liu Xiangyang’s scream, this was clearly more than a few bruises.
His elbow twisted at an unnatural angle. His body curled and trembled uncontrollably, sweat pouring down his forehead in large drops.
Wang Shufeng crawled to his side, terrified at the sight of her son. “Xiangyang, don’t move!”
“Someone help! Hurry and take my Xiangyang to the hospital!” she screamed, her voice distorted with panic.
“Well… my pigs are waiting to be fed. I’d better head back.”
“My daughter has a blind date soon. I should go too.”
Within moments, the crowd dispersed, patting their backsides as they left.
Only a few of Liu Xiangyang’s close friends stayed behind—including a dejected Zhang Dafu.
Wang Shufeng hurriedly had them lift Liu Xiangyang onto a broken door panel. Amid chaos and confusion, the Liu family rushed toward the county hospital.
“Mother-in-law, wait for me!”
Lin Qiao shouted after them—but they seemed to run even faster.
Left behind, Lin Qiao pouted and reluctantly lowered her waving arm. She felt she hadn’t performed very well today.
Otherwise, why did her mother-in-law not seem to treat her like family?
Liu Xiangyang was her husband, after all. Something this serious happened, yet they didn’t even let her go along.
With her there, she could at least help a little, right?
The Liu family courtyard was a mess—shattered bowls and plates everywhere, spilled soup, overturned benches.
The yard was eerily quiet, except for two hens clucking.
Lin Qiao rubbed her stomach. She had been working since before dawn, and now the sun was setting. Aside from a few bowls of cold water during the toasts, the Liu family hadn’t let her eat a single bite.
Swallowing her saliva, her eyes locked onto the plump hen.
She strode into the coop, grabbed the hen she’d been eyeing for a long time, and despite its frantic flapping, a dagger appeared in her hand. A flash of cold steel—blood sprayed out.
“Ah! You bad woman! How dare you kill the chicken? Grandma needs it to lay eggs to nourish Dad! She’ll beat you to death if she finds out!” Liu Xiaomei’s trembling voice shouted from behind.
Holding the bleeding hen by the neck, Lin Qiao turned her cold, emotionless gaze toward the girl.
At a time like this, anyone who dared stop her from eating chicken was her mortal enemy.
Liu Xiaomei shuddered under that look. After mumbling a few words, she retreated to her room. At only eight years old, she had already learned when to keep quiet—or she’d have been beaten to death by Liu Xiangyang long ago.
Lin Qiao went into the kitchen and moved swiftly: plucking feathers, gutting, chopping, lighting the fire, adding wood.
She even found a small sack of rice in the cupboard.
As a new bride, wasn’t it only proper for her to eat a bowl of white rice?
As the chicken stew began to release its aroma, the broth bubbling vigorously, Lin Qiao stared without blinking.
How many years had it been? How many years since she’d eaten meat?
All the grievances she’d suffered today were worth it for this bite.
Finally, when the chicken was tender, she couldn’t wait any longer. She fished out a drumstick and took a huge bite.
Steam puffed from her mouth as she burned herself to tears—but she refused to spit it out.
Her eyes shimmered with emotion. The meat was so good she nearly swallowed her tongue.
It wasn’t even about her cooking skills. The chicken, raised naturally without feed additives, tasted far better than the farm-raised chickens she remembered.
The meat was firm yet tender, the broth rich and pure.
One chicken wasn’t nearly enough!
After finishing one drumstick, she slowed down slightly. She took back what she’d said before.
She loved this era.
She, Lin Qiao, was born for the 1960s.
As for the apocalypse? Even dogs wouldn’t go there.
While she was eating enthusiastically, Liu Xiaomei appeared at the doorway, swallowing repeatedly, staring pitifully.
“Mom… I want some chicken too.”
Lin Qiao shot her a glance. “Weren’t you calling me a bad woman and saying I shouldn’t kill the chicken? Then what are you eating for?”
Perhaps her craving overcame her fear of her stepmother.
Liu Xiaomei stiffened her neck and shouted, “I haven’t eaten yet! If you don’t give me chicken, when Grandma comes back I’ll tell her you bullied me!
Mom, I’m Dad’s real daughter. If you give me some, I promise not to tell on you. I’ll even praise you to Grandma.”
Oh? So young and already playing carrot and stick. Wonder who she took after.
Skinny as a monkey—clearly not favored—and still trying to threaten her?
Lin Qiao rolled her eyes but scooped out a chicken head and tail into a small basin.
She handed it to the girl. “Go eat in your room. If you come out without me calling you, I’ll beat you to death.”
Liu Xiaomei glanced at the contents and bit her lip, wanting more.
Before she could speak, Lin Qiao pulled the basin back. “Take it or leave it.”
The girl dared not argue and ran off with the bowl.
She’d figured it out—this stepmother guarded her food fiercely.
If she hesitated, she might not even get the chicken tail. She hadn’t eaten meat in so long.
With no one disturbing her, Lin Qiao squatted by the pot and ate directly from it.
By the time even the broth was gone and she’d eaten two bowls of rice, she patted her slightly protruding belly and belched contentedly.
She went to the coop and looked at the lone remaining hen.
Suppressing the urge to slaughter it too, she glanced around to make sure Liu Xiaomei wasn’t nearby.
Then she grabbed the hen and tossed it into her space.
She still wanted eggs.
Back in her bridal room, she hurried into the space to check on her precious chicken.
The hen adapted quickly and was already pecking at the vegetables she’d grown.
Oh no.
If it ate everything, what would she eat?
She quickly removed it from the vegetable patch and fenced off a separate area as a coop. She was certain there would be many more precious chickens in the future.
Watching the hen wander about, she swallowed her saliva again.
Would she be eating eggs tomorrow?
Suddenly thinking of something, Lin Qiao returned to inspect her crops.
Squatting down, she examined them carefully. Perhaps it was her imagination, but the previously wilted leaves seemed more vibrant.
She checked the grain crops too.
They also looked livelier.
Could it be… that after changing worlds, her space had changed as well?