Delivering Food
The dinner was quite sumptuous, with a pot of brown rice and a bowl of cabbage stewed with meat. Zhang Shi had specially gone to get a pound of meat, a mix of lean and fat, and cooked it all at once.
The three of them sat at the table, swallowing hard.
Especially Lin Qiao, whose eyes were practically glued to the slices of meat. In the Lin family, they only ate meat during the New Year. His mother was stingy, cooking just a little at a time, and with so many mouths to feed, by the time it got to him, he couldn’t even taste the meat.
Zhang Shi was the first to place a piece of meat into Yang Lan’s bowl. “Lan, eat more. You need to recover quickly.”
Yang Lan accepted his kindness with a smile.
After taking a bite, Yang Lan’s eyes lit up. The taste of pork raised on natural, ancient grains was indeed far superior to that of modern feed pigs!
The stewed pork dish only had a bit of salt, but the quality of the ingredients was excellent, and Yang Lan ate with great satisfaction.
After finishing half a bowl of rice, he realized something was off.
Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao’s chopsticks only reached for the cabbage, not a single piece of meat.
His movements paused. In the original owner’s memory, such scenes were common, but he couldn’t bring himself to eat selfishly like the original owner did.
Knowing that words were useless, he simply placed three thick pieces of meat into both Zhang Shi’s and Lin Qiao’s bowls.
Zhang Shi immediately panicked. “Lan, what are you doing? You need to study and recover from your injuries. The meat is for you. We can just eat the stew.”
Yang Lan looked at Lin Qiao, who said nothing, but his round eyes conveyed the same sentiment.
“No way. If you don’t eat, then I won’t eat either.” Yang Lan set down his bowl and chopsticks, adopting a stubborn stance.
Faced with this standoff, it was Zhang Shi who finally gave in, his lips curling into a smile, eyes glistening with tears. “Alright, alright, we’ll all eat.”
Only then did Yang Lan smile again.
Feeling a gaze on him, Yang Lan turned his head to see Lin Qiao hurriedly looking away.
He smirked but said nothing.
After dinner, Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao went to the kitchen to wash the dishes, while Yang Lan was sent back to his room.
He didn’t argue. This body had suffered serious injuries and needed proper rest.
As the sky quickly darkened, Lin Qiao brought in a basin of water for washing feet, taking advantage of the last bit of light.
Standing by the bed, he softly said to Yang Lan, who was lying down, “Husband… let me wash your feet.”
Yang Lan, not hearing clearly, thanked him and sat on the bed, about to bend down to take off his socks when a pair of tender hands touched the top of his foot.
Lin Qiao was half-kneeling by the basin, holding his foot with both hands, ready to wash it.
Yang Lan was startled wide awake.
He quickly pulled his foot back and lifted Lin Qiao off the ground, not noticing the brief flash of pale disappointment on Lin Qiao’s face.
“Don’t kneel so easily in the future, and I don’t need you to wash my feet.”
Remembering that this was a tradition in Willow Leaf Village, Yang Lan cursed under his breath and added, “And don’t kneel to others either. We’re family.”
Lin Qiao was stunned. He thought his husband didn’t like him, but was that not the case?
After pouring out the water, it was time to sleep. Lin Qiao, rubbing his sleeves, was at a loss. “Husband, tonight we should…”
Yang Lan: “…”
Come to think of it, tonight was supposed to be their wedding night.
Yang Lan awkwardly cleared his throat. “I’m still not well. It’s not suitable to do that kind of thing. Please help me put on a show for Father.”
Lin Qiao paused, glanced at him with a hint of worry, and finally nodded.
The original owner’s bed was made as a wedding bed, a full two meters wide, leaving plenty of space between them.
Yang Lan was quite satisfied with this distance and slowly closed his eyes to the sound of the other’s soft breathing.
The next day, when Yang Lan woke up, the house was empty. The kitchen stove was cold, indicating that Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao had gotten up early.
In the pot was a bowl of porridge and a steamed bun. After eating, Yang Lan went to the original owner’s study.
It was called a study, but it was really just a small room next to the bedroom, less than twenty square meters, though it held quite a few books.
The original owner was known as a prodigy, often visiting the homes of various local gentry, and he never left empty-handed, always receiving a book or two as gifts.
Yang Lan glanced through them. The books covered a wide range of topics, from exam preparation guides to travel magazines, but it was clear the original owner hadn’t focused on them. Each book was pristine, except for a large box of storybooks, their pages dog-eared from frequent reading.
No wonder the original owner hadn’t passed the exams in years. Yang Lan couldn’t help but think.
He found an exam book on the shelf and sat at the desk to read.
He lost track of time until his stomach growled, prompting him to close the book. As he shut his eyes, the entire content appeared in his mind, word for word.
Yang Lan was slightly surprised. His photographic memory had followed him to the past!
Yang Lan was a true humanities student, memorizing large amounts of content daily since high school. After choosing law in college, his memory was further tested.
Whether by ancestral blessing or saving the galaxy in a past life, he had gained a photographic memory system.
As the name suggests, anything he read was permanently stored in his mind, like a camera capturing an image.
Although the ability failed during exams, Yang Lan didn’t mind. The ability to memorize during regular study greatly boosted his efficiency. He was even a bit relieved, fearing he’d develop lazy study habits otherwise.
This system allowed him to excel as a lawyer. What client wouldn’t want a lawyer who could recall decades of case law and make skilled comparisons?
Initially daunted by the exams, Yang Lan now felt completely at ease. With this ability, he wasn’t worried about remembering the complex classical texts!
Feeling relaxed, Yang Lan left the study to find that Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao hadn’t returned yet.
After a moment’s thought, he understood.
They had no land, and with high wages during the busy farming season, Zhang Shi must have taken Lin Qiao to help with the harvest.
Yang Lan rolled up his sleeves and went to the kitchen to cook.
He made rice, knowing that after a morning of hard work, they needed a hearty meal.
The meat was gone, but there was a thin layer of lard left. Yang Lan used it to fry four eggs and cooked a large pot of winter melon and cabbage soup. The taste was decent.
But he didn’t know where Zhang Shi was working.
Just then, a woman’s voice called from the gate, “Lan Xiaozi, are you home?”
Yang Lan quickly went out to see a woman in a gray coarse cloth dress, her hair tied up with a twig, looking very capable.
It was Zhao Hu’s wife, their neighbor. Zhao Hu was a hunter, so their living standard was noticeably better than others in the village, and the family appeared well-fed.
“Aunt Zhao, what brings you here?” Yang Lan approached, speaking warmly.
Aunt Zhao was taken aback by his humble and gentle demeanor. Everyone in Willow Leaf Village knew Yang Lan hadn’t passed the scholar exams and was full of arrogance, looking down on everyone.
“Aunt Zhao?” Yang Lan asked, his eyes questioning.
Aunt Zhao coughed, pulling her thoughts back, and instinctively lowered her voice. She felt that this person seemed more like a well-read scholar now.
“It’s like this. Your father asked me to tell you that he and Lin Qiao won’t be back for lunch. He wants you to take some money and make do at the noodle shop by the village entrance.”
After speaking, Aunt Zhao frowned.
She didn’t agree with Zhang Shi’s approach. At over twenty, a man should be the head of a household, but this one couldn’t even manage a meal without his father.
However, it wasn’t her place to comment on others’ affairs, so she felt even less fond of Yang Lan.
Unaware of her thoughts, Yang Lan thanked her and asked, “Aunt Zhao, do you know where my father is working?”
“At the Village Head’s place. Don’t worry, the Village Head won’t shortchange him.”
Yang Lan nodded and politely bid her farewell.
Returning to the kitchen, he quickly finished his meal, then found a basket, placing the rice and dishes inside, along with a large bottle of cooled boiled water.
Walking along the road, Yang Lan felt the summer heat directly. The sun was like a giant furnace, scorching the earth.
In just a short while, he wiped his sweat countless times.
The wheat fields offered no shade, and as Yang Lan walked, his heart grew heavy.
The Village Head’s fields were the largest and most prominent. Standing at the edge, Yang Lan wiped his sweat and looked out, quickly spotting two frail figures bent over, cutting wheat.
He hadn’t been there long when someone called Zhang Shi’s name, and soon, Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao looked over.
Yang Lan mustered a smile and waved at them.
Wearing straw hats, Zhang Shi and Lin Qiao ran over quickly.
“What’s wrong, Lan? Are you feeling unwell again?” Zhang Shi asked anxiously before even stopping.
Yang Lan opened his mouth, his eyes a bit wet.
How lucky the original owner was to have such caring family, yet he never appreciated them.
Fortunately, he was here now.
“Husband, what’s wrong? Please tell us!” Lin Qiao asked urgently.
Yang Lan said nothing, pulling them to sit under a tree, then taking out the food and water from the basket.
Zhang Shi’s eyes widened in disbelief. “These things are…”
“I made them,” Yang Lan said, rubbing his nose. “It’s my first time cooking, so it might not taste great. Don’t be too critical, Father and Lin Qiao.”
The original owner had never been in the kitchen, but Yang Lan had lived alone and certainly knew how to cook.
Zhang Shi turned away to wipe his eyes, and Yang Lan pretended not to notice, lowering his head to serve them.
“My good Lan, you’ve really grown up,” Zhang Shi said, his voice hoarse.
Yang Lan smiled at him. “Yes, I’m married now, so of course I’ve grown up. From now on, Lin Qiao and I will take care of you.”
Lin Qiao quickly nodded in agreement.
Zhang Shi smiled through his tears and began eating heartily.
Lin Qiao also held his bowl, taking a bite of winter melon, his eyes sparkling. “It’s delicious! Husband’s cooking is so good!”
Even the most ordinary winter melon was praised as if it were a delicacy, making Yang Lan chuckle. He couldn’t help but ruffle Lin Qiao’s fluffy head. “If it’s good, eat more.”
Lin Qiao nodded vigorously, dimples appearing on his cheeks, making others smile along with him.