As for the kid's attitude, Cheng Ying didn't fuss too much; a threat or two would usually keep him in line temporarily.

Her step-father, this zhiqing (educated youth sent to the countryside), probably wouldn't be staying long either. Besides, children are guided by influence. If this boy picked up a trick or two from her, it would benefit him for life. He’d thank her someday. Who knew how quickly society would change down the line? So, Cheng Ying essentially treated this as a form of guided education.

Of course, in Cheng Ying's heart, she viewed her entanglement with Chi Wu as purely temporary; hardly worth investing too much emotional energy into.

Thanks to Chi Wu’s compliance, Cheng Ying easily secured four fen (work points), equivalent to four eggs—her mood brightened considerably. Trailing behind her was Chi Wu, his face stubbornly set, looking as if he wanted to draw a line between them with a knife. Cheng Ying paid him no mind. It was good for a child to have spirit.

Just as her heart began to soar, Cheng Ying heard the sound of the adults returning from the fields—the shift change bell. When had that rung? She hadn't heard it. Her heart plummeted into her stomach. She still had that wool spread out on the kang (heated brick bed)! If anyone saw that now, what a situation that would be! Cheng Ying didn't dare to imagine it, a cold sweat breaking out across her back. As the saying goes, one should never do wrong, for trouble can strike at any moment.

Ignoring Chi Wu behind her, Cheng Ying bolted towards home.

Seeing Cheng Ying’s sudden dash, and noticing the other adults walking home in groups, Chi Wu also panicked. If that old woman saw he hadn't fired the stove, she would undoubtedly curse him with harsh words. He started chasing after Cheng Ying.

The young Chi Wu was utterly bewildered. Why was that girl running ahead? It didn't matter when she got home; the old woman never cursed him.

Cheng Ying ran swiftly, her pigtails whipping about wildly. Not to mention the wind whipping up from inside her trouser legs—that was an experience unto itself. She absolutely had to get the socks out. This kind of life was miserable; she felt as if she weren't wearing pants at all.

Cheng Ying, like a little maniac, sprinted home, arriving only a hair's breadth—just that tiny bit—behind her own grandmother. Seeing her grandmother busy at the stove, Cheng Ying nearly burst into tears. What would the old woman do to her? Would she report her to the production team?

Chi Wu, following behind, didn't look much better than Cheng Ying when he spotted the grandmother. The only troublesome child in the yard, he appeared warmly dressed today. Cheng Dun was playing contentedly by himself. Cheng Ying guessed his pants must have dried, allowing him to play outside.

She crept toward the house, her eyes fixed intently on her grandmother. Her grandmother’s narrow, triangular eyes merely glanced at Cheng Ying—not a word was spoken. But that one look made Cheng Ying’s heart jump.

Seeing the door to the east room open, Cheng Ying slipped inside with a whoosh.

The old woman might ignore her granddaughter, but she wouldn't overlook Chi Wu. Hands planted on her hips, she barked at the doorway, "You wasteful little brat! You restless thing! Is doing a bit of work too tiring for you? You wild little rabbit, hurry up and light the stove!"

Chi Wu dared not utter a sound in front of the old woman. Even though he was late lighting the stove because he was earning work points, the old woman always found fault. Experience had taught Chi Wu that the more he explained, the more he was scolded.

In the room, listening to that string of Northern dialect, Cheng Ying felt the hairs stand up on the back of her neck. She wondered how Chi Wu had endured life like this. Then she looked toward the kang. Cheng Ying instantly felt faint. Oh heavens, where was the wool she left on the bed? Not a single strand remained!

Cheng Ying collapsed onto the kang, truly finding no wool whatsoever. The old woman had opened the door; how could she not have noticed? Cheng Ying nervously gnawed on her fingers, worrying. Would the old woman scold her the way she scolded Chi Wu? After all, the grandmother was politically astute, always talking about "the team" or taking disputes to the "team" for arbitration. This felt like walking right into a barrage of fire.

Cheng Ying shuffled out of the east room. Seeing her grandmother busy at the stove, Cheng Ying forgot all about Chi Wu squatting below. Using her stronger build, she twisted her backside and shoved Chi Wu aside, then squatted down to light the fire for her grandmother. "Grandma, I’ll fire the stove for you." The look in Cheng Ying’s eyes was utterly fawning—she was trying to curry favor with the old woman.

The old woman watched Chi Wu glare resentfully at his granddaughter after being pushed aside. She immediately launched into a string of nice words, "You sightless thing! You only know how to light a fire? Can't you even move aside? Go feed the chickens!"

Cheng Ying felt awful for Chi Wu. This round of scolding, she had caused it. But right now, she couldn't afford to worry about him; she was fighting for her own survival!

She tried to make small talk with her grandmother while tending the fire. "Grandma, Dun’s pants are dry."

Cheng Ying’s grandmother sliced pickled vegetables, looking at her granddaughter stoking the fire. It was obvious why the girl was doing this. "Yingzi, it’s fine. Grandma is here. I put that thing away for you."

This statement was a dose of reassurance for Cheng Ying. Her eyes sparkled in the firelight; upon closer inspection, they looked misty. It turned out she didn't need to worry so much. Her own grandmother wouldn't throw her to the wolves; she had protection. Cheng Ying’s response was muffled, "Mmm, Grandma is here."

The two of them worked silently—one busy above the stove, the other below.

Before long, Chi Wu finished feeding the chickens, and the grandmother sent him to stoke the fire instead, leaving Chi Wu to squat on the ground. Cheng Ying automatically started setting the table, arranging the chopsticks and bowls. Even when bringing over the plate of pickles, her demeanor was impeccably proper.

Cheng Ying reasoned that since she no longer had a father, and as the saying went, a step-father meant a step-mother, she only had this one living grandmother left. She had to make sure she was someone cherished, or her life would be too bitter.

The old woman said nothing about Cheng Ying's sudden attentiveness but realized that her usually quiet elder granddaughter was quite resourceful.

That evening, as usual, a large group gathered around to eat porridge. After the meal, Cheng Ying’s Second Aunt turned to the grandmother. "Ma, Dun didn’t eat much. I’m worried he’ll be hungry tonight. Could you give me two sweet potatoes?"

Cheng Ying kept her head down, eating, saying nothing. She saw clearly that this Second Aunt was no good. Everyone had seen how much Dun had eaten. Cheng Ying fiddled with her fingers under the table, being the newcomer, she dared not speak.

Grandma’s triangular eyes drooped. "There’s still a bowl of porridge left in the pot; take that back with you." She ultimately refused to give her daughter-in-law sweet potatoes.

Eldest Aunt, nearby, moved her lips several times but ultimately said nothing. Seeing her own mother show no reaction, Cheng Ying realized her own mother was still too passive. Second Aunt pursed her lips, clearly dissatisfied. She picked up her child and the bowl of porridge, not even glancing at the messy table, and left. Her attitude was really quite poor. If the old woman weren't completely addled, she certainly wouldn't favor such a sharp-tongued daughter-in-law.

Eldest Aunt cleared the table afterward and then followed her husband and two children out. Only Cheng Ying’s own mother remained, hunched over the stove washing dishes. Cheng Ying thought this was the downside of living together; no one saw the work you did. The Second Aunt would probably assume the grandmother was cooking special meals just for her family. Otherwise, why would the Second Aunt stare intently at her mouth whenever they met?

Yang Zhi had carried timber on the mountain all day, just like the men. For a woman, this was heavy manual labor, certainly not easy work. Their family lacked strong laborers, so even with all that, Yang Zhi only earned nine fen. As for her Second Sister-in-law's comments, Yang Zhi didn't say a word. Everyone knew that the Eldest and Second Brother’s families were being burdened by their immediate household.

By the time she finished washing the pot, Yang Zhi’s back ached so badly she couldn't straighten up. Seeing her own mother’s struggle to stand straight, Cheng Ying sighed. Life was hard for people in this era. She walked over and began vigorously rubbing her mother’s lower back. This was truly the long-suffering daughter-in-law who did hard work but rarely received credit. Setting aside their blood ties, purely from one woman to another, Cheng Ying sympathized with this woman.

Of course, Cheng Ying harbored some lingering frustration about her mother's lack of ambition. Even if her uncle and aunt were nice, a niece couldn't rely on them. In the end, she would have to rely on her own mother, Cheng Ying understood that clearly.

Cheng Ying said to her mother, "Ma, you rest. I’ll finish up."

Yang Zhi, with her back to her daughter, nearly cried out. Her own child truly cared. She whispered, "Yingzi, I put chestnuts in your bedding. I picked them on the mountain today, understand?"

Cheng Ying pursed her lips, a wave of bitterness washing over her. She had heard her mother’s stomach rumble when she first came in, yet she had managed to slip the gathered chestnuts into her daughter’s bedding without being noticed. Her heart warmed. Lately, her nose always felt stuffy, and her eyes often stung with tears. "Mmm, I’ll eat them tonight. You go lie down in your room, Ma."

Hearing her daughter’s words, Yang Zhi’s steps were suddenly light as she walked away.

Cheng Ying lingered in the outer room for a while before finally entering the east room. Her grandmother was making the bed on the kang. Cheng Ying saw a neat pile of chestnuts placed right beside her pillow—from her mother, and now confirmed by her grandmother.

The old woman finished making the bed, put on her shoes, and said, "She's your real mother. She hasn't been completely tricked by her man yet." This was clearly a remark about her own mother. Cheng Ying knew her grandmother was satisfied upon seeing the chestnuts; knowing one’s child cared for her meant she was a proper mother.

Cheng Ying leaned against the old woman’s side. "Grandma, only you truly care for me." Sweet words cost nothing, and even if they did, she’d still say them.

The old woman got off the kang and firmly bolted the door. She pulled a small cloth bundle from the cabinet and handed it to her granddaughter. Cheng Ying opened the bundle; under the dim kerosene lamp, the wool looked even whiter and cleaner. Cheng Ying took a deep sniff—it didn't smell sheepy at all! It was impeccably clean.

She looked up at her grandmother and managed, "Grandma..."

The old woman sat cross-legged on the kang. "Tell Grandma how you got this."

Cheng Ying felt as if she were confessing a crime. She felt a little embarrassed. Even with the closest of relatives, it was hard to admit that one’s morals weren't entirely up to par.