Ye Xiaoxiao finally felt her heart settle.
Suddenly, a question popped into her mind—how should she address the ancestor in front of her? She couldn’t very well call him “Red Child,” could she?
“Um… ancestor, how should we address you?” she asked.
The red-haired child looked troubled. His real name was Ye Xiaowei. He had no idea what his father was thinking when he gave him that name. Couldn’t he have picked something majestic and imposing? Instead, he ended up with “Xiaowei”—supposedly powerful, but not at all intimidating. Now here he was, trembling at the thought of a group of children thousands of years younger calling him by his childhood nickname!
Finally, he said, “From now on, you can all call me ‘Great Ancestor Dawei’!”
“Great Ancestor Dawei” sounded much better than Xiaowei—full of authority. He couldn’t help admiring his own quick thinking.
“All right, Great Ancestor Dawei,” Ye Xiaoxiao said respectfully, but inwardly she thought, “Authority my foot—you little rascal!”
The children’s voices, soft and uneven, echoed: “Great Ancestor Dawei!”
“Great Ancestor Dawei, let’s go have breakfast!” Ye Xiaoxiao said, pulling the children along and explaining to Dawei how much she had bought.
Dawei’s mouth watered at the description. As she spoke, images flooded his mind even more vividly than Ye Xiaoxiao’s—he was the space’s guardian, after all! Watching Ye Xiaoxiao show off like this didn’t exactly feel good to him.
His irritation melted the moment he saw the breakfast spread before them: a bowl of tingzai porridge for each person, plus shrimp dumplings, chicken feet, spare ribs, pork tripe, beef balls, beef tripe, beef tendons, steamed siu mai, char siu buns, custard buns, sponge cake, layered cake, water chestnut cake… the list went on.
Dawei’s eyes sparkled at the delicate food. He could eat, after all—though his body and soul were immortal.
The children’s eyes sparkled just as much.
Yet no one dared to touch anything first.
The children hesitated out of habit; Ye Xiaoxiao paused because of the large Buddha statue on the table.
Dawei felt awkward. His mind stayed at the age of six or seven—he was still a child!
The children looked at Ye Xiaoxiao; she looked at Dawei.
Fine—he was the eldest here.
“Dig in!” Dawei commanded.
Ye Xiaoxiao, Xiao Anguo, Er’er, Sanwa, and Siwa picked up their spoons and started eating porridge with their left hands.
Ye Xiaoxiao used her right hand to pick up chicken feet, spare ribs, and shrimp dumplings, placing them onto Dawei and the children’s plates.
The chicken feet and spare ribs were tender and flavorful, falling off the bone effortlessly—not just “delicious,” it was something beyond words.
The shrimp dumplings had translucent white wrappers, thin as paper, with a soft, fresh, and silky texture.
…
Cantonese dim sum truly was the king of breakfasts!
Dawei and the children ate with faces full of enjoyment. Likes could wait—they were going to eat first. And by “eat,” Ye Xiaoxiao meant eat, not just fill their stomachs. Watching them stare at each box, she suspected that if they could, they’d even swallow the boxes whole.
Sanwa wanted to tell Mom: “I don’t want to leave. I want to eat, eat, eat, forever. Even if I roll into a ball, I don’t care.”
Not just Sanwa—every child thought the same. Not even nine oxen could drag them out of the space now. They wanted Cantonese dim sum inside the space. Every meal. Every day.
Delicious, delicious, delicious!
Ye Xiaoxiao shook her head. These kids were far too young.
Just as well—she had her own work to do. She couldn’t leave them wandering outside unsupervised.
The premise for revenge: ensure the children’s safety. Without them, what was the point of her rebirth?
After breakfast, with a thought, Ye Xiaoxiao sent the empty lunch boxes to the space’s garbage processor for destruction.
She arranged with Dawei to keep the children in the space, letting him watch over them.
Ever since Dawei discovered the space contained all sorts of ready-made delicacies that could last them hundreds of years, his attitude toward Ye Xiaoxiao did a complete 180. This junior was capable—and with food around, she could store as much as she wanted.
He could stay in the space with the kids, playing with them—it wouldn’t be boring! He had been alone in the space for tens of thousands of years; now finally, a few children had come along, and the thought thrilled him.
Ye Xiaoxiao went to the spiritual spring behind the bamboo house alone, scooped a bowl of spring water, and drank it in one gulp. Soon, her entire body began to ache violently. Her limbs felt alien, and her internal organs seemed to have shifted positions.
The pain was intense—but compared to the tragedy of losing children in her previous life, this was nothing.
For revenge, she could endure any suffering.
Pain wracking her body, Ye Xiaoxiao’s gaze grew even more determined.