Yu Wanzhu awkwardly touched her nose. This feeling of being unwelcome really wasn't pleasant. She had no idea how the original owner had managed to cultivate such a thick skin.
After complaining, she still had to face reality.
Standing by the window, she took in the entire small courtyard at a glance. Everyone was already up. Since she wasn't the original owner, she naturally couldn't bring herself to stay in bed any longer.
Song Yubai was splitting firewood. When he saw her coming out so early, he glanced at her with some surprise, then pretended not to see her and continued chopping.
The two young younger siblings, who had been gathering firewood toward the kitchen, instinctively shrank back when they saw her.
Yu Wanzhu took a deep breath and forced a small smile at them, trying her best to appear kind.
But unexpectedly, at that smile, the two little ones screamed as if they'd seen a ghost, bursting into loud wails—their cries shaking the heavens, filled entirely with fear and dislike of her.
Yu Wanzhu: "…"
Although her current fat face wasn't exactly pleasant to look at when smiling, it shouldn't be enough to scare children into crying, right?
Clearly, the original owner had tormented these little ones plenty in the past.
Song Yubai said with displeasure, "Yu Wanzhu, don't bully my third brother and fourth sister."
Yu Wanzhu felt somewhat embarrassed. How was she supposed to know that would happen?
Hot water was kept warm in the pot in the kitchen. She scooped out a basin to wash up, and with this basin of clean water, she finally got to see her own appearance.
Her features couldn't be called either beautiful or ugly—it was just that there was too much flesh on her face, all squeezed together, making her look greasy and bloated.
This face—never mind Song Yubai finding it repulsive.
She couldn't stand to look at it herself either!
After washing up with a heart full of resentment, she remembered that her mother-in-law was still lying in bed, so she drew another basin of water and headed toward Mrs. Xu's room.
Before she could even step across the threshold, Song Yubai's wary voice sounded from behind her. "Where are you going?"
Yu Wanzhu turned around and blinked, saying naturally, "I'm going to wipe Mother's face. If you're worried, you can watch from the side."
Seeing that her eyes were clear and bright, and she didn't seem to be putting on an act, Song Yubai was silent for a moment. Then he limped forward and took the wooden basin from her hands.
His expression remained cold, but his tone softened slightly. "I'll do it. Your hands are still injured."
Watching Song Yubai's retreating figure, Yu Wanzhu let out a silent sigh.
That was just how the Song family was—even though she had bullied them and they loathed her to the core, they still wouldn't treat her harshly.
Song Xiaolan returned at that moment, carrying a bundle of tender, fresh radishes in her arms. Since Mrs. Xu was ill, Xiaolan was the one handling cooking and looking after the younger siblings.
When Yu Wanzhu saw her enter the kitchen, she shamelessly followed her in.
Song Xiaolan glanced at her with some hostility and said, "You can see for yourself, the food isn't cooked yet. If you're hungry, then just go hungry!"
Yu Wanzhu was momentarily speechless. Indeed, apart from mealtimes, she had almost never set foot in the kitchen before.
But the person she was now was no longer the lazy, gluttonous original owner. So she said casually, "I'll give you a hand."
Song Xiaolan was stunned. She had already braced herself for a scolding and had thought up how she would talk back, but the fat woman actually didn't lose her temper—and even said she wanted to help?
Xiaolan pursed her lips, neither agreeing nor disagreeing, and went about her work on her own.
Yu Wanzhu's hands were injured and couldn't touch water—she had even washed her face with one hand—so she assigned herself the task of tending the fire.
Actually, she didn't know how to work an earthen stove. The original owner had been a young lady from a scholar's family, so she didn't know either.
Recalling how it looked in TV dramas, she struck the flint again and again, and finally, under Song Xiaolan's murderous glare, she got the fire going.
Yay~
Song Xiaolan came over to put in the rice and asked with a frown, "Why did you only light one stove?"
Yu Wanzhu: "Isn't one stove enough?"
She figured that for a family of six, such a big iron pot could cook enough rice, right?
Song Xiaolan sneered. "What, you're not eating?"
Yu Wanzhu: !
Only then did she remember—because the original owner had such a big appetite and couldn't get enough to eat in the Song household, she had used her own dowry to buy rice and flour, asking the Song family to cook separately for her, and she didn't allow them to eat any of it.
In other words, while the Song family drank thin gruel, she ate solid food, and the Song family had to run a separate kitchen just to serve this ancestor of theirs!
No wonder Song Xiaolan was so full of resentment. It was all that damned original owner's fault!
Yu Wanzhu coughed dryly to cover her embarrassment. "From now on, I'll eat the same as all of you."
She stoked the fire in the stove, then got up and went back to her room, carrying over the bags of rice and flour. "Xiaolan, use this rice and flour for cooking. When it's gone, I'll buy more."
Song Xiaolan had no idea what medicine she had taken today to be so generous. She shot her several suspicious looks.
There was still about half a bag each of rice and flour, while the family's own reserves were nearly empty. When they boiled a pot of porridge, only their sick mother could drink the thick porridge at the bottom; everyone else just had rice water with a few grains of rice floating in it, going hungry half the day.
But Mother had said that the rice and flour that fat woman ate were bought with her own dowry, and if she didn't allow them to eat it, the Song family shouldn't covet it either.
Song Xiaolan hesitated. But now she was the one offering it herself—surely it was fine to eat it?
With this in mind, she raised her head again, half-uncertain, half-stubborn, and asked, "You're the one who told us to eat, so you'd better be sure about this. Don't come back later accusing us of stealing your food!"
Yu Wanzhu wore a doting, motherly smile. "Eat up, eat up. Don't be stingy—put more rice in the porridge."
Only then did Song Xiaolan rinse the rice and put it in the pot.
Yu Wanzhu tended the fire, growing bored, when she suddenly spotted the pile of green radish leaves on the ground. She asked, "Xiaolan, what are you planning to do with those radish leaves?"
Song Xiaolan was deftly shredding radishes. Perhaps because she had just been given something to eat, her tone was no longer as sharp as before. She replied, "Those radish leaves—I'm going to chop them up and feed them to the chickens in a bit."
Yu Wanzhu clicked her tongue inwardly. What a waste—they'd make such good pickled vegetables. In her past life, she couldn't even buy radish leaves like these if she wanted to.
There were no greenhouses here, and winter vegetables were scarce. Some crisp, tangy pickled vegetables would come in handy.
Just thinking about pickled vegetables made her mouth water involuntarily. She swallowed and said, "Don't feed them to the chickens. I know a way to make pickled vegetables. Once they're cured, we won't have to worry about running out of food."
In her past life, she'd loved all kinds of pickled foods, so she was quite skilled at making them—sour pickles, kimchi, salted vegetables, and spicy cabbage—she knew how to make them all.
Song Xiaolan looked up at her in surprise. What had gotten into this fat woman today?
Not only was she generous and good-tempered, but she was also helping with the work—and now she even wanted to make pickled vegetables?
She thought to herself that radish leaves were bitter and pungent, not at all tasty. But one shouldn't strike a smiling face, and it wasn't anything precious anyway—there were plenty in the fields. So she simply said, "Go ahead and make them. If they don't taste good, no one's going to eat them."
In her heart, though, she'd already assumed Yu Wanzhu would waste the ingredients. Fortunately, these were meant for the chickens anyway, so no harm done.
Yu Wanzhu smiled happily and held up her bandaged left hand for her to see. "Xiaolan, I accidentally cut my hand, and I can't get it wet. Could you help me wash them?"
Song Xiaolan glanced at it, asked no questions, said nothing, and simply nodded silently.
Before long, breakfast was on the table. Song Xiaolan first served a bowl to Mrs. Xu, then called everyone to eat.
Song Yubai set down his book and had just taken a seat at the table when he noticed the porridge in his bowl. His face immediately clouded with displeasure as he looked at his younger sister.
"Xiaolan, didn't I tell you? The thick porridge is for Mother. Why did you—"
His words trailed off.
Because he realized that everyone's bowl contained thick porridge.