Chi Yong drank a bowl of chicken soup and was still cooling himself off with a fan in the yard; he certainly put the whole family through it.

The next day, the old lady looked at her daughter-in-law as if her eyes were shooting daggers.

When Chi Yong returned that week, he wasn't idle; the very next day he went to the production team office. Autumn harvest was over, and it was time to pay the grain tax.

Technically, it should have been delivered to the township, but Shanghe Village was far from the township office.

Moreover, each village only had one large mule cart, and if they handled it house by house, they’d be working until New Year’s.

So, the team leader discussed with Chi Yong that the villagers, in accordance with state regulations, would deliver the grain to the village collective first, and then it would be transported to the township. This arrangement was much more convenient, saving everyone from crowding around waiting for the mule cart, which would interrupt everyone’s work. Chi Yong spent two whole days figuring out the regulations for this matter.

However, this grain still needed to dry out a bit more; they would likely be busy again next week when he returned.

Cheng Ying and Chi Wu had even more work. Winter was fast approaching. Although the household seemed to have plenty of firewood, they still needed to bring some more back.

The two children left early that morning, baskets strapped to their backs.

Cheng Ying wasn't worried about firewood at all. Over the past few months, whenever she went out and saw dry branches, she had stashed them in her spatial dimension.

It was just that she couldn't take out too much at once; she’d have to carry baskets out day by day later on.

Her outing with Chi Wu was mostly for show. Of course, the boy Chi Wu was genuinely working hard collecting firewood.

Yang Zhi said, "Don't you worry. When the winter break comes, we'll hire a few people to help us chop for one day; that will be enough for us to burn all winter."

Hearing this, it was clear the stepfather and the biological mother had discussed the issue. Their own mother certainly wouldn't have had the decisiveness for such a plan.

The old lady glanced at her daughter-in-law but said nothing.

Life belonged to the young ones; she was getting older. In the future, she should interfere as little as possible in such matters.

Staying home to watch the children and cook meals was quite enough. The old lady’s thinking was remarkably open-minded.

She didn't have the reluctant resignation of Emperor Kangxi when he delegated authority.

Cheng Ying replied, "Mm, we two will just keep busy. There are many things to gather in the mountains in autumn; we two will just go up the mountain and enjoy ourselves." With that, she left.

Her meaning was that their trip up the mountain, both for fun and for necessary work, was something they enjoyed, and they didn't need supervision.

Yang Zhi commented, "Mom, other people's children always worry their parents, but why are our Yingzi and Wuzi such worry-free children?"

The old lady glared at her daughter-in-law, "A good life has made you restless and seeking trouble."

With that, she went inside to process cotton, still thinking about making a new set of quilted bedding for her granddaughter. Children grew up, and everything about them needed to be clean and tidy.

Yang Zhi dared not speak. Although she was still quite dissatisfied, she didn't dare challenge the old lady. Just as the old lady said, perhaps she was too comfortable in her good life and was acting spoiled.

She secretly hoped the children would act up a bit, cause some trouble, just so she could feel a sense of excitement.

Inside the house, the old lady looked out the window at her daughter-in-law working with vigor and sighed inwardly.

Her son didn't have good fortune; he died too young. Otherwise, this vibrant life would all belong to her son.

With such a family of four, how could they not live well? Yingzi was such an understanding child.

As long as they treated her granddaughter well after she was gone, the old lady could rest easy. Alas.

When it was time to deliver the grain tax, Cheng Ying truly gained some perspective.

Cheng Ying followed the team’s mule cart over to watch the commotion. The team had even borrowed two mule carts from the two neighboring villages, hoping to deliver all the grain in one day. One village’s grain tax required three mule carts running back and forth three times.

Cheng Ying stayed at the township, overseeing the grain.

She looked at the chaotic scene in the township—so many people, so much grain.

They waited in line for a whole day before it was their village's turn.

Cheng Ying could see the high spirits of the villagers. Even though they were handing over grain to the state, people did it willingly.

They said that the harvest was better at home this year, and there would be no more going hungry. Hearing this made one feel a pang of sadness—what kind of life had they endured in previous years?

Cheng Ying watched the village chief and her stepfather take charge at the front, tallying the grain. They truly looked like officials.

Moreover, Cheng Ying overheard villagers saying, "See? You still have to let children study. If Chi Yong hadn't had some education, with just his physique, he would have starved to death. Look at him now; he’s so respected in the village."

Cheng Ying saw Chi Wu’s eyebrows practically flying up; he was proud of his father.

Cheng Ying pursed her lips. People said, "Thirty years east of the river, thirty years west."

It had only been a few years, and Chi Yong had completely turned his life around.

Just two years ago, Chi Yong was scornfully called a 'stinking scholar' in the village—this was according to Cheng Ming, and he never lied about that. When fighting with Chi Wu, Cheng Ming always addressed Chi Wu with that insult: "The son of a stinking scholar."

Chi Wu had achieved a complete turnaround, a ‘salted fish turning over’; no wonder he was so smug. It was because that man was his father.

Cheng Ying worked alongside the villagers for a whole day and a night before the village’s grain tax was finally submitted.

The excitement at the township was something Cheng Ying had never witnessed before; it was nearly as lively as the day they watched a movie.

Upon returning home, even Grandma said, "With grain in the house, one’s heart is settled. This year, at least, we won’t have to live hand-to-mouth. You children have come into a good era."

Cheng Ying looked at the old lady and felt she needed to broaden her horizons. "Grandma, the days ahead will only get better. This is nothing yet."

Chi Yong added, "Yingzi is right; the days ahead will only get better."

Cheng Ying suggested, "Grandma, we have plenty of grain. If we can’t eat it all, how about we sell some?"

The old lady gave Cheng Ying a small kick to the backside. "You wasteful child! Sell what? We have plenty of grain in the house, but what if times turn bad? This stuff is life-saving!"

In the old lady's mind, grain was a lifesaver, and the more they had, the better.

Chi Yong said, "Your Grandma is right. Let’s wait until the New Year's grain allotment comes down, then we'll talk."

Cheng Ying's face darkened. Did this mean they were going to hoard grain from one year to the next? Wouldn't it just turn into stale reserves?

The old lady said, "Children who haven't experienced that era won't understand. I don't blame you, but Yingzi, you must remember: grain must never run out in this house."

Cheng Ying replied, "Mm, Grandma, I'll listen to you."

My granddaughter is so good, so obedient.

After settling the accounts with the team, Chi Yong took the two children to the township.

School exams were in two days, and Cheng Ying needed to review with them comprehensively for those two days. It was already difficult for Chi Yong, as a teacher, to be away for two days.

At school, Cheng Ying immediately grasped how much expectation Chi Yong placed on his only son. Wu Zi was studying with Cheng Ying in the second-grade review sessions.

It seemed Chi Yong intended for his son to skip directly to the third grade. Cheng Ying thought to herself, if she had known it was this easy, they should have aimed for the fourth-grade exams. Then, because of the distance, they could catch up on two years of schooling in the evenings.

Cheng Ying looked at Chi Wu and asked with a hint of mockery, "Can you handle it?"

Chi Wu felt uncomfortable seeing Cheng Ying’s attitude and shot back immediately, "If I can't, it's because you forced me here."

Cheng Ying shut up. Troublesome kid, why won’t he let me have the last word?

During their two days at their maternal grandfather’s house, Grandpa had their aunt cook elaborate meals for the two of them.

Cheng Ying watched the old man, who seemed even more nervous than she was. It was just a semester-end exam; it really didn't require such a grand production.

On the day of the exam, Grandpa even held Miao Miao, and the two of them waited right outside the school.

Cheng Ying felt like she was getting a preview of the intensity of the Gaokao (college entrance exam). This Grandpa was taking it way too seriously for an exam that happened only twice a year.

Grandpa's fussing made Chi Wu walk into the school with his feet going in opposite directions. He mumbled to Cheng Ying, "What if I don't test well?"

Cheng Ying glanced at Chi Wu. "If you don't test well, just throw up all the delicious food you ate these two days back to Grandpa." Then she went to her seat.

Chi Wu clutched his stomach, then covered his mouth. He felt strange. He moved far away from Cheng Ying and started trying to psych himself up. Even though what Cheng Ying said was definitely wrong, it didn't feel good to hear.

When they came out after the exam, Miao Miao gave Cheng Ying a big hug first.

Cheng Ying exclaimed, "Oh my, how fortunate I am! My reserve little husband is waiting for me to finish my test!" How many women wish for this? Few have my kind of luck.

Grandpa interrupted, "Alright, alright, how did Yingzi do? I even prepared the red cloth."

Cheng Ying teased, "Enough, Grandpa. Can anyone even read your calligraphy?" It wasn't that Cheng Ying looked down on Grandpa, but he practiced wild, cursive script to imitate the artistic style of doctors. How many characters on a prescription written by a doctor could an ordinary person recognize? Especially since Grandpa was a traditional Chinese medicine practitioner.

Grandpa looked flustered. "I had your uncle write it!"

Cheng Ying said, "Grandpa, the characters you and Uncle use when writing prescriptions are fine, it's just that ordinary people can't read them. I'll write it myself later."

The old man looked at his granddaughter, pursed his lips, and muttered, "Your cheekiness, girl, is just like mine. Where is Wuzi? Why hasn't he come out yet?"

Cheng Ying replied, "That boy is still checking his work. I saw him finish. Don't worry."

The old man immediately got agitated. "Why didn't you watch him longer?"

Cheng Ying quickly silenced him. "I can tell he got a hundred points."

The old man stopped talking. Miao Miao chimed in, "Sister is the best! Sister will get a hundred!"

Cheng Ying affectionately kissed Miao Miao's face. "My Miao Miao is the best. In the future, you must get a hundred for your sister, understand?"

Miao Miao beamed in Cheng Ying’s arms, her eyes curving into little crescents, looking like a cunning fox.

What an obedient, good child. And I adore her so much. Why is she my cousin?

Cheng Ying cooed, "No wonder I'm so fond of you, Miao Miao. You’re so obedient, so handsome!"

Chi Wu overheard this sentence just as he emerged. His previously good mood vanished entirely.

Grandpa asked, "Wuzi, how was it? Do you understand the second-grade textbook?"

Chi Wu replied, "Mm, it was okay. Let’s go home. The teacher said they won't post the scores for a couple of days."

Grandpa was displeased. "Isn't that just torturing us? I wanted to see the score of the top scholar in our family!"

Cheng Ying held Miao Miao’s hand with one hand. "Does that even need looking at? Even with my eyes closed, it’s a hundred points. Have some faith in me."

Chi Wu scoffed, "Stop bragging so much, or you'll be crying later."

Grandpa snapped, "Bah, bah, Wuzi, spit it out quickly! That’s terrible talk. You little brat, how embarrassing!"