The pot used for soup never stopped simmering either. After the cured pork soup was finished, she chopped up the wild rabbit and made a yam soup. The rabbit meat was tender, the yam soft and glutinous, and the broth was sweet and nourishing.
She also cooked a smooth millet porridge to save for times when her stomach felt unwell, then stored it all away in her space.
To add some variety, she made some sweet, crispy sugar pancakes as snacks and ground some fine rice into flour to make rice cakes, which were soft, chewy, and easy to store, enriching the food supply in her space.
The entire cave was filled with smoke and the aroma of cooking. Several large pots each served their own purpose. Taking advantage of her ample firewood and ingredients, Ye Qing constantly kneaded dough, made flatbreads, steamed buns, soups, and rice. Different kinds of food came out one after another like an endless assembly line.
The fine rice and white flour were transformed into all sorts of dishes, and the cured pork and dried vegetables were used to their fullest. More than half of the yams she had dug up were steamed until they became soft, floury, and sweet. The stockpile in her space grew larger and larger.
From dawn until nightfall, she worked nonstop. The dry firewood in the stove was replaced batch after batch. Ye Qing only occasionally took a sip of water or ate a few bites of hot flatbread to fill her stomach, never stopping for more than a moment.
She kept up this relentless pace for five straight days. Only when the ingredients piled in the cave were nearly exhausted did she finally stop. Looking at the storage space now packed with food, she let out a long sigh of relief.
Several shelves were neatly lined with all kinds of delicious food.
There were more than a hundred white-flour flatbreads, coarse-grain flatbreads, and pickled vegetable and cured pork pies; dozens of baskets of dried vegetable and cured pork buns, meat buns, and vegetable buns.
There were also several large barrels of mixed-grain porridge, cooked rice, jars of pickled vegetables, and pots of meat soup and chunks of meat, along with noodles, rice cakes, and sugar pancakes. The variety and quantity were astonishing—enough to feed her alone for an entire year.
There was still some unhulled rice left in her space, which she could process later. Since time stood still in the space, nothing would spoil no matter how long it was stored.
Ye Qing wiped the sweat from her face and looked at the now-empty stove and the small mountain of ash from burned firewood. A satisfied smile spread across her face.
Although her arms ached from exhaustion, these food reserves were her confidence and security for surviving in this disaster-ridden world.
She carefully extinguished the fire, poured half a ladle of water over the remaining embers, and only relaxed after making sure there wasn’t a single spark left.
Her gaze swept over the nearly dried-up pool nearby, and she pursed her lips.
“Looks like I won’t be able to take a bath tonight.”
She scooped a few ladles of the settled clear water from a water vat and casually wiped down her sweaty body. Deep down, she knew that this might be the last proper wash she would have for the next several months.
After changing into clean clothes, she collapsed onto the bed and quickly fell into a deep sleep.
…
Within the Liuye Village caravan, Jinzhu was so hungry and thirsty that her vision blurred and darkness flashed before her eyes. Her stomach growled loudly, as if little hands were scratching at her insides.
She stared at the clay jar in Wang Guihua’s arms with green eyes of envy. The half-jar of water inside was all the water their family had left.
Pulling on Wang Guihua’s arm, she pleaded weakly,
“Mother, give me a sip of water. I’m dying of thirst. My throat feels like it’s on fire, and I can’t even swallow my saliva anymore.”
Her face looked pitiful, but deep in her eyes was a trace of impatience.
She had been eyeing that water for a long time. Her mother guarded it too carefully. She had only been given a tiny sip that morning—just enough to moisten her throat before it was gone.
Meanwhile, her little brother Jin Dou, whom their mother was carrying, had already had three sips that morning!
Staring at the sleeping Jin Dou in Wang Guihua’s arms, hatred surged in Jinzhu’s eyes.
That little burden! He eats more and drinks more, taking all the benefits along the way. Why hasn’t he died yet?
She had no affection whatsoever for this half-brother who shared only the same mother. On the road of famine, food and water were scarce, yet Jin Dou always had something to eat and drink. She had long hated him and secretly wished the burden would disappear so no one would compete with her for food and water.
Wang Guihua hugged the clay jar more tightly and glared fiercely at Jinzhu.
“You dead girl! Is there water in your brain instead of sense? I gave you a sip just an hour ago, and you’re asking for more? Do you think this is mountain spring water that can never run dry?”
She glanced around to make sure no one was paying attention before continuing in a low voice,
“We only have this little bit of water left. If we conserve it, we can last another two days. But if you keep drinking greedily like this, all of us will die of thirst on the road! We’ll become dried-up corpses with no one even willing to bury us!”
“Just one little sip! Isn’t even one little sip okay?”
Still unwilling to give up, Jinzhu shook Wang Guihua’s arm again and whined,
“I don’t care! I want water! If you won’t let me drink, then I’m not walking anymore! Dying of thirst and hunger is still death, so I might as well die right here!”
“If you don’t want to walk, then don’t! Who cares about you?” Wang Guihua was equally ruthless. She shook off Jinzhu’s hand without showing any mercy.
Jinzhu staggered and nearly fell. A surge of resentment immediately rose in her heart. She shot a vicious glare at Wang Guihua’s back, the impatience in her eyes turning into naked hatred, though she no longer dared to throw a tantrum.
She knew that if she were truly abandoned here in these barren mountains, forget food and water—even the wolves and wild beasts would be enough to finish her off.
It’s all that bitch Ye Qing’s fault!
Grinding her teeth, Jinzhu cursed Ye Qing a thousand times in her heart.
If Ye Qing hadn’t foolishly offended Mother before they fled the famine and been beaten half to death, ultimately failing to catch up with the group, she wouldn’t have ended up in such a miserable state.
In the past, with that eyesore Ye Qing around, all the dirty and exhausting work had fallen on her. She was only given a little bran cake each day, often going hungry and cold while enduring their bullying.
But ever since Ye Qing disappeared, Mother had vented all her anger on Jinzhu instead. Carrying water, gathering firewood, carrying luggage—every dirty and tiring chore had become hers.
She ate the coarsest bran cakes and even getting two mouthfuls of water a day depended on Mother’s mood.
Her treatment was even worse than Ye Qing’s had been.
Is that bitch dead yet? Jinzhu thought darkly.
If she really had died, it would have been too easy on her. Jinzhu hadn’t had enough fun tormenting her yet.
Thirty miles away, in the cave, Ye Qing was busy cooking when she suddenly let out a huge sneeze for no apparent reason.
Rubbing her nose, she grumbled,
“Who’s so wicked that they’re cursing me behind my back? They have absolutely no sense of decency!”
Back on this side, Jinzhu had already come up with a new plan and no longer pestered her mother for water.
Her eyes rolled around, and she pretended to clutch her stomach and squat on the ground, softly sobbing. The cries were neither too loud nor too quiet—just enough for others to hear. It was obvious that she was trying to gain sympathy.
Ideally, someone would take pity on her and persuade Wang Guihua to give her a sip of water.
Old Madam Ye was nearby. Hearing that her niece still had water, she licked her cracked lips and hurried over.
Her eyes were fixed on the clay jar in Wang Guihua’s arms as she said hoarsely,
“Guihua, pour Mother a bowl of water. I’m terribly thirsty. If I don’t get some water soon, I’ll die of thirst.”
When Wang Guihua saw Old Madam Ye, her expression immediately changed. Her eyes flickered, and her tone became cold.
“Aunt, doesn’t my eldest brother take care of you? He must have water. Why don’t you go ask him?”