To say that Chi Yong felt absolutely no qualms about his wife having a previous man would be a lie. But he found himself in such an awkward position; having a wife who could help care for his son was already quite a blessing, so Chi Yong was putting forth his greatest sincerity to integrate into this family.

He lagged a couple of steps behind, patting Cheng Ying's head twice. Chi Wu deliberately walked behind Cheng Ying, and although he didn't say much, his intent was clear.

This was another form of comfort, perhaps. But for Cheng Ying, the actions of the two men were truly hard to accept; she almost preferred her own silly mother.

If they could just give her some space to think quietly on her own, she truly didn't need the comfort. Walking along, Cheng Ying did observe some very different scenery.

Perhaps because her own biological father was what Grandma called an 'outside loss,' the burial site was indeed quite far away, even farther than the place where she usually gathered firewood. And the path was constantly ascending, though gently so.

The surrounding woods weren't dense, one might even call them sparse, yet they weren't completely bare either, which was rather pleasing. Cheng Ying kept watching the scenery on the side all the way until they reached the mouth of a valley where the scenery was bright and the water clear.

Even Chi Yong looked up and around, thinking this place was truly excellent. Yang Zhi suddenly remembered to turn back, "It's just a bit further ahead; this spot is quite distant, the furthest mountain plot our team has, so we have to start early." Even without him saying so, everyone else could tell.

They hadn't encountered many people on the way; it was clear no one came here often. Cheng Ying looked down at a small trail of ice frozen from the valley entrance, realizing this mountain valley possessed its own running water.

However, at this moment, Cheng Ying was mostly filled with a mix of excitement and worry. After all, the man who gave blood and bone to this body was inside; her arrival was not entirely glorious.

If there truly were any deities, might they just annihilate her on the spot? This was genuinely worrying.

Cheng Ying’s palms grew sweaty. The tension was greater than before any Gaokao exam; Cheng Ying could feel her heart pounding against her chest, as if her very soul might fly away at any moment.

Perhaps due to the immense mental pressure, Cheng Ying’s forehead began to bead with sweat. Chi Wu noticed Cheng Ying's discomfort, but he only tugged at Chi Yong's sleeve.

Chi Yong looked at his son, then walked to Cheng Ying’s side and once again patted her head. Cheng Ying did feel considerably more comforted.

At least upon seeing Chi Yong, she thought that if her biological father truly had a spirit in heaven, he would surely deal with this usurper first. As for her own soul, perhaps her real father would be easily fooled.

So, Cheng Ying wiped the sweat from her brow with her sleeve and let out a slight sigh of relief. Regardless of the reason, as long as Yingzi wasn't sweating profusely anymore, Chi Yong felt somewhat comforted.

If the girl didn't have him, her stepfather, in her heart, his comforting gestures surely wouldn't work. So Chi Yong also breathed a sigh of relief, stepping forward with a big stride, walking side-by-side with his visibly distracted wife, and resting one hand casually on her shoulder.

Cheng Ying looked up; her stepfather was clearly asserting his presence. People nowadays weren't this open-minded; he must have seen more of the world.

To be flirting with another man's wife at her late husband's grave, wasn't he afraid of being struck down by lightning? But seeing her own mother’s ears turn red, Cheng Ying quickly lowered her head.

Her biological mother, her biological father, and her stepfather—it was better not to meddle; let them sort it out themselves. Children couldn't interfere in the adult world, especially matters of the heart; outsiders simply had no room to interject.

Furthermore, the living were always more important than the dead. As long as her mother could be happy, Cheng Ying felt it was all worthwhile.

Speaking of happiness, Cheng Ying remembered her stepfather’s status. Who knew how long this happiness would last?

Cheng Ying turned her gaze away—out of sight, out of mind. Her stepfather's identity was the greatest source of pain for Cheng Ying right now, a sorrow she could foresee.

Fortunately, the journey wasn't long, and soon they reached her biological father's grave. Yang Zhi also grew subdued, "Yingzi, set out the offerings for your father, and talk to him." Cheng Ying approached the small grave mound with reverence; weeds were growing thick upon it.

Recalling all the excellence her stepfather had described in Grandma’s stories, then looking at the desolation of his state after death, Cheng Ying’s tears streamed down. Perhaps it was truly a connection of blood.

Cheng Ying knelt with genuine sincerity. Thankfully, she was wearing thick padded trousers, or her knees would surely have been scraped raw.

Yang Zhi watched her daughter and silently began pulling weeds and banking earth around the grave mound. Chi Yong, however, helped by taking out the yellow paper offerings from the bag and lighting them for Cheng Ying.

Cheng Ying burned paper offerings for her father one by one, recounting to him the things she had told Grandma the day before. When the yellow paper had burned away, the grave of her biological father was substantially enlarged by Yang Zhi and Chi Yong.

Cheng Ying kowtowed twice to her father, "Don't blame me. As long as I am here, I will ensure your bloodline continues.

You wait patiently for me to offer you incense; I will take care of Grandma on your behalf, ensuring the old lady is never wronged. As for my mother, you can see, I will also look after her.

No matter what, Mother's happiness is most important. If you can bless this, then bless it.

In the future, during festivals, your daughter will come and show filial piety, ensuring you are never without offerings. Please bless the three of us—my mother, Chi Wu, and me—to be safe and sound.

After all, the blood flowing in me is yours. As for your daughter [Yang Zhi], if you truly have a spirit, you must look after her extra well.

Consider it my filial piety to the elders on your behalf." After speaking, Cheng Ying sincerely kowtowed twice more. When Cheng Ying lifted her eyes this time, her gaze was much clearer.

She was fine; it meant her biological father didn't mind her, and was willing for her to look after the old lady for him. Cheng Ying was happy to interpret it this way.

She had finally found a path forward that felt right. From now on, she was the daughter of the third son of the Cheng family, and the old lady’s true granddaughter.

In truth, Cheng Ying was just seeking peace of mind. If a man buried in the earth for three years didn’t like something, how could he possibly express it?

People are like this; all this ancestor worship and offerings are ultimately just for peace of mind. Yang Zhi said, "Yingzi, that's enough, stop kowtowing.

Your father will feel pained." Cheng Ying replied, "Mm, it's fine, I just want to talk to Dad." But she still didn't rise from her kneeling position. Cheng Ying's legs were starting to go numb; the ground was cold, after all.

Even through thick padded trousers, the cold made her legs stiff. Cheng Ying thought about slowly getting up.

Then she looked around, gazing past her biological father's grave mound. The valley was wide, with tall trees on both sides.

Though not dense, they weren't sparse either. Although this wasn't tillable land, the tree species were excellent, something Cheng Ying truly recognized.

And what Cheng Ying was thinking of right now were the ginseng seedlings in her personal space. Ginseng couldn't grow in her space; she only had a few ginseng sprouts there.

Cheng Ying looked at this valley and the forest land flanking it, thinking about what would happen if her ginseng sprouts grew here for ten or more years. What would that be?

Piles upon piles of renminbi! By then, it would only be the 1990s, and she would still be ahead of the trendsetters, just needing to wait a few years.

One must remember that the general public's true appreciation for ginseng only blossomed in those very years. Wealth—this was wealth protected by her father!

Cheng Ying’s face flushed; she felt feverish, clearly from thoughts of money. Vast expanses of wild ginseng, bags full of money!

Cheng Ying was so excited her hands and feet trembled. Dong, dong, dong—she kowtowed a few more times to her father, "Dad, bless me, let my wishes come true.

Grandma's good days and my future prospects are all here; wait for me to burn piles of incense for you later." Cheng Ying spoke these last words only in her heart. Chi Yong and Yang Zhi, watching Cheng Ying start kowtowing again, quickly came over to help the girl up.

Yang Zhi felt pity for her daughter, but Chi Yong felt a pang of sourness in his heart. He considered that he treated the girl well, so why was she so devout toward someone she had only a few years of memory of?

Chi Yong felt uncomfortable. This business of paying respects at his wife’s first husband’s grave—he sincerely hoped it wouldn't happen often in the future.

This was truly an action designed to oppose him directly. Chi Yong’s wisdom dictated that he shouldn't have to endure a second such experience.

He turned to Yang Zhi, "Let’s tidy up and go." He really didn't want to stay in this place any longer. Yang Zhi did have feelings for Yingzi's father, but in this era, even deep affection had been worn away by life.

They couldn't even satisfy their basic needs for food and warmth; she still had children to care for. She really didn't have much time to think of Yingzi's father.

So, she readily agreed, "Okay, Yingzi’s done. Let's go.

Grandma is waiting for us to get home for the New Year." Chi Yong finally felt slightly better. He glanced at Yingzi's father's grave mound, said nothing, and led the way out.

Cheng Ying did linger for a couple of glances at the valley, paying special attention to her biological father’s burial plot. It was actually a great spot, facing the sun, facing a large mountain head, and the valley had a natural spring providing water flow.

Even in deep winter, water was bubbling out, although the area around the spring was coated in a thick layer of ice. Nestled by the mountain and accompanied by water—Cheng Ying was delighted.

This was a prime burial site, one that money couldn't easily buy. This was auspicious for the next generation.

Cheng Ying had heard this from elders before; at least in her heart, she was happy. Whether it was true or not didn't matter, as long as the omen was good.

Before exiting the valley mouth, Cheng Ying turned back to look towards her father's direction, "Wait for your daughter to get rich, wait for your daughter to bring honor to the family. Our household will only prosper from now on." She said this only in her mind.

Following behind, she walked with Chi Wu after Yang Zhi and Chi Yong, heading home. Since Yingzi's father was buried far away, by the time Cheng Ying and the others returned, the old lady had already finished steaming the sorghum rice, and she had even stewed fish—the spread was unprecedentedly rich!

For the dumpling filling that evening, the old lady had even brought out the flour. Cheng Ying saw that the old lady hadn't stopped working.

Cheng Ying lifted the lid of the stewed fish pot, "Grandma, why is it all broken up?" The old lady gently patted her granddaughter's shoulder, "If it wasn't broken, what would it be? It was just half a fish, frozen stiff like that; when you stew it in the pot, of course it breaks up." Then she glared at Cheng Ying, and Chi Wu, standing behind, also glared at Cheng Ying.

Cheng Ying understood immediately, she truly understood—the fish hidden in their backyard had finally seen the light of day, but it had still been stewed until it broke apart. They were trying to keep it secret.