Chapter 6: Did they stop breathing?

Sun-shi’s eyes were wide open, staring unblinkingly at Yang Ruoqing’s face, fearing that if she blinked even once, this beautiful dream would shatter.

Her mouth curled up involuntarily; she was clearly smiling, yet two lines of tears streamed down from her eyes.

She had lost count of how many times she had dreamt such a beautiful dream over the years, but this one felt the most real. Every other time, as soon as she made a sound, she would wake up.

And so, Sun-shi bit down hard on the back of her hand, not allowing herself to make even the slightest sound.

Seeing this expression on her "cheap" mother’s face, Yang Ruoqing was somewhat surprised.

But thinking about it from both sides, it was understandable.

When one’s own daughter had been collectively given up on by the village’s old doctor, the spirit mediums from nearby villages, and even the entire Old Yang family, the despair was unimaginable.

It was excusable that she couldn't accept it right away; truly, the hearts of parents are pitiful.

With a silent sigh in her heart, just as Yang Ruoqing was about to open her mouth again, a series of rumbling sounds suddenly erupted from her stomach. This noise finally pulled Sun-shi back from her shock.

"Qing'er! My good daughter!" Sun-shi suddenly pulled her hand away, let out a wail, and threw her arms around Yang Ruoqing, sobbing bitterly.

Yang Ruoqing did not move, letting Sun-shi hold her just like that, allowing this poor mother to properly vent the emotions in her chest.

Just then, the dilapidated wooden door of the west wing was suddenly slammed hard from the outside, followed immediately by Tan-shi’s scolding: "It’s high noon, what are you howling for like a ghost? Your father just laid down, and the men have to go work in the fields this afternoon!"

"Mother, my Qing'er, she..."

Sun-shi’s heart was so full of the joy of Yang Ruoqing’s recovery that she didn't care to fear Tan-shi for the moment. She lifted her head from Yang Ruoqing’s broad, thick shoulder and turned around, eager to share this great news with Tan-shi.

Unexpectedly, she had barely started her sentence before it was ruthlessly cut off by Tan-shi.

"Stopped breathing? Good if she stopped breathing. The sooner she dies, the sooner she can be reincarnated. Everyone gets some peace, and she finds her own release! Later, when the third son comes back, you all figure out how to send her out. Don't use the main door, it’s bad luck!"

After tossing out this rapid-fire string of words, Tan-shi spat on the ground and turned to leave, her footsteps quick, as if she were afraid that if she left a step too late, she would be tainted by the bad luck in this room.

From afar, her muttering could still be heard: "...Dying right at the start of the autumn harvest, what bad luck!"

Inside the west wing, Sun-shi sat there blankly, her face turning from pale to green. Her teeth were tightly biting her lip, and her thin frame was trembling slightly.

Yang Ruoqing knew that Sun-shi was angered by Tan-shi. That she didn't vomit blood and pass out on the spot meant Sun-shi could be considered a long-tested "steamed bun" (pushover).

Wasn't she angry herself?

She even began to doubt whether the Tan-shi outside was truly the biological grandmother of this body; her words were truly venomous!

No, this was no longer just verbal venom; this was cold-bloodedness, devoid of any familial affection!

In her previous life, she was an orphan and had never tasted what familial affection felt like. Although she was long accustomed to being alone, only she knew the longing for family deep in her heart.

Reborn after death, having traveled to this ancient farming household, although it was dirt poor, the care and concern from this "cheap" mother had ignited a spark of warmth in a heart that had been cold and silent for a lifetime. She had even begun to harbor some hope for the Old Yang family.

Just now, when Sun-shi wanted to tell Tan-shi the good news of her recovery, she hadn't stopped her.

But now, she realized she was wrong, and terribly so.

Familial affection was something you could encounter but not seek; the couple treated her with such devotion because she was their biological daughter.

But the others in the Old Yang family? Not necessarily.

Yang Ruoqing shifted her clumsy body, moved a little closer to Sun-shi, who was sitting by the bed wiping away tears, and advised: "Mother, don't be angry. Grandma is just like that..."

Before she could finish, her mouth was suddenly covered by Sun-shi’s palm.

Sun-shi’s eyes widened, and she whispered to Yang Ruoqing: "You child, are you being foolish again? There are gods three feet above our heads. She is your grandmother; no matter what she says about us, we can only endure it. Speaking ill of one's elders behind their backs like this will bring down divine retribution..."

The corner of Yang Ruoqing’s mouth twitched. What kind of logic was this?

Blind filial piety!

Character determines thinking, and thinking determines fate. Sun-shi’s mindset really needed a good scrubbing, but not right now.

Yang Ruoqing understood one truth: ice three feet thick is not formed in a single day. Trying to change Sun-shi’s "steamed bun" mindset couldn't be rushed; it had to be done slowly and subtly.

Thus, Yang Ruoqing changed the subject. Clutching her still-rumbling stomach, she made a bitter face at Sun-shi and said: "Mother, after talking for so long, I’m so hungry my chest is sticking to my back. Is there anything to eat?"

Sun-shi suddenly realized, only then remembering why she had come to this room.

She slapped her thigh and said with annoyance: "Look at my memory, how did I forget that completely? It’s been so long, I hope it hasn't gone cold..." She was already rushing toward the table with nimble feet.

Yang Ruoqing’s gaze followed Sun-shi’s back. On the table sat a chipped earthenware bowl, with another bowl inverted on top, likely to keep the heat in.

This was the first time she had seen food since traveling to this ancient farming household.

She wondered what the rural people of this world and era ate! She sat up straight, rubbing her hands together, her eyes shining as she stared at the large bowl Sun-shi brought over.

Sun-shi lifted the inverted bowl and set it aside. A sweet aroma of sweet potatoes wafted over. Yang Ruoqing tried her best to widen her eyes on her chubby face, carefully examining the food in the bowl.

It was a bowl of mixed-grain rice with sweet potatoes, piled high. On top of the rice lay a pinch of cabbage, half a pickled cucumber strip, and a spoonful of stir-fried soybeans.

The cabbage leaves were boiled until they were somewhat black, and the stems were limp; one look and it was clear they weren't stir-fried in oil but boiled in water. The cucumber strip was pitch black, its skin wrinkled, and a faint, slightly foul odor drifted into Yang Ruoqing’s nose. Her good appetite from a moment ago vanished by more than half! The stir-fried soybeans, however, looked decent enough, a golden yellow.

Sun-shi looked at Yang Ruoqing’s expression and felt secretly surprised.

Didn't her daughter just say she was hungry? Why was she holding the bowl now but not using her chopsticks?

"Why don't you eat while it's hot? I was the one who cooked these beans. Didn't you used to love the beans I stir-fried?" Sun-shi couldn't help but ask.

Yang Ruoqing came back to her senses. So the best-looking dish in the bowl was made by Sun-shi; no wonder.

As for the other two, she didn't need to guess to know they must have come from the eldest aunt.

"Oh, I was just spacing out for a second. I'll eat now." Yang Ruoqing smiled at Sun-shi, took the chopsticks from her hand, and was just about to start when she suddenly paused.

"What is it now?"