Chen Qingqing first blanched the chicken pieces, cleaned them thoroughly, then added a bit of lard to the pot.
She tossed in scallions, ginger, and garlic until the fragrance bloomed in the air.
Next, she poured in the old hen, stir-fried for a while, added salt and hot water, then covered the pot to let it simmer.
Before long, the chicken in the pot was bubbling away—gudu, gudu—and the rich aroma of meat spread through the air, filling the entire courtyard.
Chen Qingqing couldn’t help but sigh with satisfaction— The chickens of this era eat grass and bugs; even without fancy seasonings, they taste so good.
Chen Han sniffed eagerly at the mouthwatering scent, drooling nonstop.“So this is what meat smells like! It’s amazing!”
He took a deep sniff for good measure.
“You little glutton, don’t rush. Once I finish cooking the millet porridge, we’ll eat,” she said with a smile.
“Okay! I’ll keep the fire going for you!” Chen Han replied sweetly.
The sun slowly dipped below the horizon, taking the day’s heat with it.
A cool breeze drifted in, bringing a hint of chill.
Chen Qingqing found two planks of wood and used the stone trough for feeding the oxen as a base. Piecing the boards together, she made a makeshift table.
Then she gathered a few wooden stumps to use as stools.
On the rough wooden table sat a large bowl of fragrant chicken and four bowls of thick, golden millet porridge.
The family gathered around their simple dinner table, each face glowing with a smile.
Chen Han stared wide-eyed at the food.
Meat—and such thick porridge! It was a feast, even better than what they’d had during the New Year.
He swallowed hard. “Sis, am I dreaming? Pinch me quick!”
Chen Qingqing laughed and gently pinched his arm. “Does it hurt, little glutton? This isn’t a dream.”
Chen Zhanshan’s eyes grew misty.
In the past, when the whole family ate together, all the good dishes were placed before the third household.
His two children’s bowls always held half a bowl of rice and a scrap of coarse grain bread.
Even if there was a bit of meat, the children could only watch, licking their lips.
He looked at his son and daughter, his heart aching.
All these years, they’d never had a proper meal of meat.
Though he had always worked the hardest, his food and clothes were the worst. His parents’ favoritism was so blatant—and yet they acted as if it were only natural.
What reason did he have to stay attached to that family anymore?
Now, things were finally different.
No matter how simple the food, his children no longer had to bow their heads to anyone.
Feeling his heart grow lighter, he finally said, “Let’s eat.”
Chen Han immediately grabbed a piece of chicken and popped it into his mouth. “So this is chicken—it’s so good!”
“Father, Mother, please try my cooking,” Chen Qingqing said, picking up pieces for Madam Lin-shi and Chen Zhanshan.
Lin-shi chewed slowly.
The chicken was tender and rich, the delicate flavor spreading across her tongue.
She had been married into the Chen family for years, yet had never once tasted a piece of meat.Now, eating the dish her daughter had made with her own hands—it felt wonderful.
Chen Zhanshan took a bite, eyes lighting with praise. When did my daughter learn to cook like this? It’s delicious!
Before long, the millet porridge and the big bowl of chicken were all gone, not even a drop of soup left.
Chen Han leaned back, rubbing his full stomach and burping with satisfaction. “Sis, I’ve never eaten this much before! Will we be able to eat this well again tomorrow?”
“Of course,” Chen Qingqing said with a confident smile. “From now on, as long as we work hard, things will only get better for our family.”
Chen Zhanshan’s breath caught. This chicken—they only had it today because his daughter had fought to get it.Without her, they probably wouldn’t even have bran to eat.
Guilt filled his eyes. “You’re right, Qing’er. As long as we’re together, things will get better. Tomorrow I’ll go to Qingshui Town. I’ll find a way to earn money.”
Lin-shi nodded. “Husband, you’ve worked so hard already.”
Seeing the worry on their faces, Chen Qingqing comforted them. “Don’t worry, Father, Mother. There’s a saying—‘When the cart reaches the mountain, there’ll be a way through.’ Everything will be fine.”
She already had a plan.The village head had given them three jin of millet, plus half a sack of rice bran. That should last at least ten days.
Within that time, she was sure she could find a way to make money—especially since she had a secret weapon.
Her eyes fell to the ring on her finger.
I wonder what this thing can actually do…
She decided she’d test it later—maybe it was a powerful golden finger after all.
..
At the Chen family’s old house.
On the dining table sat scrambled eggs, steamed egg custard, a plate of stir-fried greens, and bowls of coarse rice.
Everyone sat together, listening to the laughter coming from the neighboring courtyard, each lost in their own thoughts.
Old Man Chen puffed irritably on his pipe.
One worker short—who was going to till the fields tomorrow?
Who would gather firewood to sell?
Old Madam Chen’s face was drawn with worry.
With the eldest daughter-in-law gone, the second one refused to be ordered around, and the third had never lifted a finger for chores.
Who would handle all the housework now?
Chen Zhanshan’s second brother, Chen Zhanliang, fretted for the eldest branch of the family.“They’re eating chicken today, but what about in a few days when they run out? The old lady won’t let them off easy—they’ll regret celebrating too soon.”
Madam Sun, his wife, looked on with envy, her eyes practically bulging.That kind of life—eating what you want, living without bowing to anyone—is exactly what I’ve always dreamed of.
Liu Mengjiao sneered. Let them eat their meat today. In a few days, they’ll be eating wind.
Chen Ruolan sniffed the delicious aroma drifting from next door, and suddenly the scrambled eggs and custard before her seemed tasteless.
She scowled. “Grandma, I want stewed chicken too! I don’t like eggs!”
“Yeah! Why can they eat chicken and we can’t?” Chen Jiye threw down his chopsticks. “Grandma, you don’t love your grandson anymore! You killed the hen to feed that little brat Chen Han! I want chicken too, not eggs!”
Chen Dabao kept his head down, quietly eating. He knew—if he didn’t look, he wouldn’t feel tempted. Grandma would never give him any anyway.
XiaoBao, however, stared hungrily at the scrambled eggs. “Mom, if they don’t want it, I’ll eat it.”
Madam Sun’s heart twisted painfully.Every meal, Mother-in-law would fry two eggs, claiming they were for the third son to “nourish his brain.”
But everyone knew the truth—the third son always secretly brought them home to feed his two little boys.
Unable to hold back anymore, she picked up the plate, scooped half of it into Dabao’s and Xiaobao’s bowls, and dumped the rest into her husband’s.
“Dabao, Xiaobao, since your sister Ruolan and brother Jiye don’t want eggs, hurry and eat them while they’re hot. They won’t taste good cold.”
Then she nudged her stunned husband. “You too. The eldest branch is gone—now all the hard work falls on you. Eat up, or how will you have the strength to do it?”