Old Mrs. Xia grew even more displeased and said, “San Bao is your own nephew. You share blood ties – only he can truly care for you and Li Girl. If we adopt an outsider, we might end up with a little wolf cub who bites the hand that feeds him. You and Li Li wouldn’t be able to rely on him, and this household could be schemed away by others.”
Mrs. Xia said meaningfully, “That’s exactly what I’m afraid of, which is why I’ve been reluctant to consider adoption. Whether outsiders or relatives, anyone could turn out to be a little wolf cub who bites the hand that feeds him, and any of them might scheme to take my entire household.”
Old Mrs. Xia insisted, “Anyway, it’s better to benefit our own family than outsiders. If you’re going to adopt a son, it must be San Bao.”
Mrs. Xia didn’t want to argue further. Her mother was stubborn, and no argument would lead to any resolution. She said, “Mother, please give me more time to think it over. This is an important matter that requires careful consideration. Besides, I should consult my father and brothers about these matters.”
Old Mrs. Xia could only accept this for now. She stood up and said, “Then think more about what I’ve said. If you’re going to adopt or find a husband for Li Girl, San Bao and Daxiong are the most suitable candidates.” As she spoke, she walked toward the door.
Mrs. Xia tried to persuade her to stay: “Mother, why don’t you have lunch before leaving?”
Without even turning her head, Old Mrs. Xia replied, “If I’m not home, that greedy woman will use up all the oil and finish all the rice.”
Old Mrs. Xia looked down on Little Mrs. Yang the most, but she still had to plan for her two grandsons. There was no helping it – her grandsons had ended up with such a mother, so she had to find them a good path forward.
After seeing Old Mrs. Xia off, Mrs. Xia went to the west room and saw her daughter watching her with wide almond-shaped eyes. Delighted, she said, “Li Li, you’re awake! Are you hungry? Wait here, mother will make you a bowl of noodles.”
Mrs. Xia was not tall, with fair and delicate features, a gentle voice, and not yet thirty years old. Her eyes were filled with affection and concern for her daughter. Her hair was simply tied in a bun at the back of her head, secured with a wooden hairpin. She wore a blue-gray coarse cloth top and a matching long skirt, both cleanly washed. The clothes had faded, with two patches at the elbows.
Xia Li had died at about the same age as this woman, so being her daughter was somewhat embarrassing. She moved her lips and unconsciously called out, “Mother.”
The voice was soft, sweet, and delicate – completely different from her previous life’s clear and crisp tone.
Mrs. Xia bent down and touched her forehead, smiling, “No fever. Li Li’s illness has finally healed. Wait here, mother will make you noodles.”
Mrs. Xia’s hands were very delicate, unlike a farm woman’s hands. She earned money with these skillful hands and usually took great care of them, never daring to do farm work or rough tasks like gathering firewood. Their household even bought firewood. Even when watering or turning the soil in the small vegetable plot in the backyard, Mrs. Xia would protect her hands with a cloth pad.
Mrs. Xia went to the kitchen to work, and about fifteen minutes later, she brought a large bowl to the west room. It was a bowl of noodles with a fried egg on top, sprinkled with some chopped scallions.
A rich aroma wafted over, and Xia Li suddenly felt ravenous. Her stomach growled several times, and she immediately sat up straight.
Seeing that her daughter wanted to eat, Mrs. Xia was extremely happy. She smiled and said, “Since Li Li likes it, mother will make it for you again tonight.”
Mrs. Xia handed the noodles to Xia Li.
Xia Li asked again, “What about yours, mother?”
The second time she called “mother” came out quite smoothly, with no burden in her heart. Her mother from her previous life had sacrificed herself when she was three years old. Now that she finally had a mother in this life, she should cherish this connection.Mrs. Xia smiled gently and said, “It’s still in the kitchen. Mother will go fetch it now.”
She returned carrying a large bowl in one hand and a cornmeal pancake in the other, sitting down at the table. Her own bowl contained only about half a portion of noodle soup with sparse strands of noodles floating in it.
Xia Li wanted to share some of her noodles with Mrs. Xia, but her mother stopped her, saying, “Be good, Li Li. Eat more nutritious food to recover your health sooner, so you can help Mother.”
Though Mrs. Xia said this to encourage her daughter to eat better, she rarely actually let Xia Li do any household chores.
Seeing Xia Li’s pale little face, sharp chin, and delicate features, Mrs. Xia felt as if her heart were being torn apart… This wasn’t the life her daughter deserved.
Mrs. Xia quickly turned her face away to wipe her tears, then lowered her head to eat.
Xia Li didn’t notice her mother’s reddened eyes, nor did she make a fuss. She remained seated on the bed and continued eating her noodles. After finishing, feeling somewhat stronger, she wanted to see the place where she would be living. She lifted the thin quilt and got out of bed.
Mrs. Xia brought over clothes and helped her dress—a water-green fine cloth jacket and a light orange coarse cloth skirt. Though faded from washing, they had no patches and were considered good clothing in the countryside. After putting on the semi-new light pink embroidered shoes, Mrs. Xia had her daughter sit at the table and styled her hair into a double bun hairstyle. She tied a pink silk ribbon around the buns, forming a bow with the ends hanging down behind her ears.
Mrs. Xia was meticulous and careful in everything concerning her daughter, never cutting corners.
Xia Li also noticed that although Mrs. Xia was extremely frugal with herself, she was generous and even indulgent when it came to her daughter’s food, clothing, and daily needs. Looking at her own small hands—tender, soft, smooth, and boneless—they were even more delicate and fair than her hands in her previous life, though much smaller.
Moreover, when the original host had just turned six, Mrs. Xia began teaching her knotting and embroidery. After she turned eight, Mrs. Xia even paid for the scholarly wife Mrs. Lin to teach her reading and writing. This continued until six months ago when Mrs. Lin had nothing left to teach, and she stopped attending classes at the scholar’s home.
Li Xiu had recently opened a private school in the neighboring Shiban Village, the only school in several nearby villages with over a dozen students, earning him great respect. His wife, Mrs. Lin, was also the daughter of a scholar and was well-educated.
Mrs. Xia was raising her daughter exactly like a young lady from a wealthy family.
Xia Li looked at herself in the bronze mirror: a small oval face no larger than a palm, pale skin with a bluish tint, gracefully curved eyebrows of just the right thickness, large, clear almond-shaped eyes, a small upturned nose, and a small mouth that, though pale, was as soft and beautiful as flower petals.
She was truly a budding beauty.
This appearance was about fifty to sixty percent similar to her previous life’s but more refined and delicate, and more fragile. Though she was only about 155 cm tall, the original host was still young and hadn’t yet had her first period, so there was potential for further growth.
This pretty little face didn’t resemble Mrs. Xia, who could only be considered plain and delicate—it must have come from her biological father. The original host had never met her birth father and had no memory of him. In her memories, Mrs. Xia was extremely secretive about him, summarizing him in just a few words—a scholar from the outskirts of the capital, deceased.
Having a face similar to her previous life brought Xia Li an unexpected joy.
After admiring her own beauty, she walked outside. Having just recovered from a serious illness and lying still for several days, she staggered unsteadily. Mrs. Xia quickly came over to support her.
Arriving at the threshold of the main hall, I had to rely on Mrs. Xia’s support to step over the low doorstep—my body was truly terribly weak.