Yet, she rallied her spirits to keep going.

Cheng Ying could even sense her grandmother’s ears were perked up, listening intently. This was surveillance of her mother and stepfather in the west room.

What a tenacious woman. She was probably planning another midnight foray to cause trouble. Cheng Ying pursed her lips, suppressing a smile.

“Grandma, tell me more about Grandpa.” The old woman yawned before speaking of her husband. She was direct: “Your grandpa, he was fine in every way, except his judgment was poor. He picked your mother, such a luckless, ill-fated daughter-in-law, to ruin Shengqiu’s entire life. It was all that harbinger of doom’s fault.” It seemed the old woman resented that marriage, extending her bitterness even to her long-deceased husband.

A woman who clearly distinguished between grudges and debts. Cheng Ying offered a silent moment of mourning for her own grandfather. Such undeserved misfortune.

After that, Cheng Ying didn't hear the old woman speak again. She must have fallen asleep.

Cheng Ying grew drowsy too, thinking that if her stepfather had any conscience, he would treat her mother better. That woman had it so hard. It took this adopted daughter staying up half the night, clinging to her grandmother, for them to have one peaceful night.

That wasn't easy either. Otherwise, the old woman would surely have caused a ruckus already.

When Cheng Ying finally slept, her thoughts were filled with the grandmother’s perceived greatness. As for whether the old woman went out to make trouble again, Cheng Ying truly didn't know.

She had done her best. She only slept when she genuinely couldn't stay awake any longer.

Because Cheng Ying had stayed up late listening to stories, she woke up a bit late this morning. On the vast earthen kang, only Cheng Ying’s bedding was still spread out at the head of the sleeping platform.

The kang surface was already tidily made.

Chi Wu lifted the door curtain and entered, carrying a table larger than he was. He dumped it onto the kang with a clatter.

He turned, his eyes blazing with anger toward Cheng Ying. Cheng Ying also felt a surge of temper. After all, she was just a little girl, a girl tucked under the covers; being stared at like that was too embarrassing.

Their eyes shot sparks at each other, neither understanding why the other was glaring so fiercely. Just then, the small-footed old woman outside lifted the curtain and came in, carrying a fire poker.

She struck the child's bottom twice. “Are you trying to court death, you short-lived thing?

Making such a racket, are you doing it on purpose?” The old woman was clearly annoyed that Chi Wu’s noise in placing the table had disturbed her granddaughter's sleep. Cheng Ying watched where the stick landed and flinched, feeling a sympathetic ache in her own backside.

She couldn't bear to look. How ruthless this old woman was! He was just a little child. From an adult’s perspective, Cheng Ying could tell the old woman hadn't used her full strength when striking the child. But for a child, it was still painful enough. He was suffering. The old woman turned and saw her granddaughter.

“Yingzi, you’re awake. Get up and freshen up, it’s time for breakfast.”

Cheng Ying didn't know what expression to adopt for the suddenly transformed old woman, only managing a soft, “Grandma.”

She thought to herself, Don't hit me like that. With my small arms and legs now, I can’t take a beating. The old woman stepped forward and stroked Cheng Ying’s head.

“Look at my little granddaughter, such a sight. It’s all those little turtle sons who are causing trouble. It’s fine, Grandma is here, hah.”

Cheng Ying thought, She’s not making up for my grievances against the child, is she? She cast a slightly guilty glance toward the child. Never mind such a young child; he couldn't even perceive any subtle intentions. Chi Wu, facing the old woman, had already lowered his head.

Cheng Ying thought that children like this were often capable individuals; one shouldn't provoke them too harshly. They couldn't afford to offend him. The old woman pulled out a padded cotton coat she had kept warm under the bedding.

“Put this on quickly while it’s still warm.” Cheng Ying felt a pang in her heart, close to tears.

It had been so many years since anyone had treated her this way. The coat still held residual warmth. Cheng Ying slipped the coat on, and her heart felt warm too.

After ensuring Cheng Ying was dressed, the old woman smoothed and folded the bedding on the kang, creating a high stack at the head of the sleeping platform. The old woman put on her shoes and stepped off the kang.

Cheng Ying watched the grandmother’s tiny feet, filled with admiration.

She could still move so briskly at that age.

The youngest old woman re-entered, carrying a large porcelain bowl with a blue rim. To Cheng Ying’s eyes, the bowl was slightly off-putting, not because it was dirty, but because it held too much historical weight. What era was this blue-rimmed bowl from? The hand holding the bowl was withered, like a dry branch. She presented the bowl in front of Cheng Ying. Cheng Ying frowned deeply. This grandmother was too old; her hands were so ancient.

“Yingzi, drink it while it’s hot,”

the old woman said in her characteristic, gentle tone towards Cheng Ying. Cheng Ying looked at the bowl of gruel froth, thick with oil, and her emotions surged. How many years had it been since she tasted this?

Millet porridge! In the twenty-first century, it was even more expensive than white rice—a coarse grain that everyone rushed to the countryside to acquire.

Those without relatives in the countryside couldn't even buy new corn grits. This was truly her own grandmother. Even counting today, Cheng Ying had eaten this for four days straight; she was truly fed up. Cheng Ying resolved that she would be filial to the old woman from now on, even if her mouth was a bit sharp sometimes. Speaking of which, she heard the beautiful voice of the elder lady nearby. The old woman’s triangular eyes snapped open. “What are you looking at? Aren’t you going out to fetch the dishes? Are you trying to die?” This was directed at Chi Wu beside her. The millet gruel froth Cheng Ying had just brought to her lips nearly made her cough it out. How could she have forgotten Chi Wu? She glanced up and saw a small, shivering back—perhaps the weather here was too cold. The old woman turned back to Cheng Ying with a face full of spring warmth.

“Yingzi, never mind that short-lived thing. You are my only one. Let him starve,” she said. How childish, how completely unplanned this bullying was! Could Cheng Ying say, You can’t treat a child this way?

She couldn't drink it; the psychological pressure was too great. However, Cheng Ying was somewhat afraid of the old woman and truly dared not speak. Under the old woman’s expectant gaze, she began sipping the millet gruel froth in small mouthfuls. It was surprisingly fragrant, truly fragrant!

Only after watching her granddaughter drink all the froth did the old woman pick up the blue-rimmed bowl and go outside.

From start to finish, Cheng Ying remained seated on the kang; the old woman never allowed her to step onto the floor. Watching Chi Wu shuttle back and forth carrying dishes and setting the table, Cheng Ying felt she was being treated like a landlady. She wanted nothing more than to hug the old woman and call her "Dear Grandma." On that single table were only two dishes: soy sauce and pickled vegetables—not even a green onion. Cheng Ying inwardly lamented when their diet would change—even something dry would be a welcome relief. Although their family had experienced poverty before, it had never been this severe. Also, that blue-rimmed bowl sat on the table, yet there were so few dishes. It spoke volumes about the harshness of their lives.

When the sunlight filtered through the oiled paper of the window, casting a layer of golden light. Those who had left early for work returned.

The door curtain was lifted, and three children squeezed in, all roughly the same size as Cheng Ying: Cheng Tie and Cheng Ming from her eldest uncle’s family, and Cheng Shuan from her second uncle’s family.

Cheng Ying watched the three children kick off their shoes and leap onto the kang, each grabbing a blue-rimmed bowl. They were waiting for food, not even sparing her a glance. Did she have no rapport with anyone?

Then, a chorus of calls for "Mother" sounded from outside.

Cheng Ming turned his head. “Yingzi, come eat!” He even tugged Cheng Ying’s arm.

Following the child’s pull, she shuffled closer to the table. Cheng Ying saw her own grandmother carrying a massive basin of porridge into the room. Cheng Ying thought that even eating in the mess hall wouldn't require this level of fuss.

The old woman nimbly took off her shoes, stepped onto the kang, and sat cross-legged at the higher end.