Killing a chicken was a trivial matter for Tian Sangsang. Back in the countryside, she used to help her aunt kill chickens. Pin the chicken down, flip it over and snip, scrape with a knife, blood pouring out; pour hot water over it, pluck the feathers, and the basics were done. Chicken feathers couldn't be thrown away either—people specifically came to collect them, and they could be sold for money.
But now, she was too hungry. Killing a chicken was exhausting work, so she decided to make something else to fill her stomach first. After all, there was still her son to think of.
Tian Sangsang went back into the house to take a look. There was a tiny bit of rice left in the jar, a bit of flour in the storage room, plus the wild vegetables Meng Shuyan had just picked. As for seasoning, on top of the stove was a small jar of lard and some salt—more than enough to make a meal to warm their stomachs.
Tian Sangsang took out the wild vegetables, pulled two green onions from the yard, and checked. There was no well in the yard, but the jar had plenty of water left—just enough. She used the water to wash the vegetables and onions clean, then cut them up. Walking to the stove, she rinsed out the large black pot with water.
She remembered how back then, things weren't as convenient as they were later. Cooking required burning firewood. Tian Sangsang fumbled around the stove for a long time but couldn't find a lighter or matches.
"Mommy, here ~" Meng Shuyan suddenly appeared, holding a small box of matches in his hand and handing it to her.
Looking at her adorable son, Tian Sangsang couldn't resist planting a kiss on his cheek and patting his little head. "Yanyan is amazing!"
Meng Shuyan stared at her in a daze. This was the third time—over the four years of his life, this was the third time his mom had kissed him. Ever since she'd started walking around the place washing and chopping vegetables, he'd been watching her curiously. Mom had never done things like this before—it was so strange. But he was happy, and he felt a bit of fondness for it...
Tian Sangsang struck a match, and a spark burst forth. She adjusted the firewood in the stove and placed the match underneath to light it. As the fire grew and the pot heated up, she scooped a spoonful of lard into the pot. When the oil was hot, she added some chopped onions. The fragrance of sizzling onions filled the air, causing Meng Shuyan to sniff instinctively. She habitually wanted to add chili but remembered there were no red chilies here. From the moment she'd arrived in this world, she'd realized this was in the South. In her past life, she'd been a Northerner who liked adding a bit of spice to everything—even the steamed buns she ate as a child were always dipped in chili sauce. Later, when she worked in the South, she got used to Southern cuisine—a balance between the two worlds. But the South's mild flavor palate always stood out, with few dishes having any heat.
She scooped the fragrant oil into a small bowl, then poured in a ladle of water and brought it to a boil. Using the limited flour she had, she kneaded it into little dough pieces and dropped them into the boiling water. She added the wild vegetables, let everything cook, and finally sprinkled salt, oil, and some chopped green onion. The scent of food wafted through the air, filling the tiny house warmly.
Though she hadn't lived this simple life in years, this scene inexplicably reminded her of her childhood. Looking at the pot of dough and wild vegetable soup, with green onion floating on the surface along with a hint of oil, it looked irresistibly appetizing.
Her appetite stirred, Tian Sangsang quickly ladled out two bowls and placed them on the table.
"Come on, son, try your mommy's cooking..." Tian Sangsang pushed one of the bowls toward her son.
"Mom, I'll wash my hands first," Meng Shuyan suddenly said as he stood by the table. Tian Sangsang followed him, pouring a bit of cold water into the basin for him and watching as he carefully washed his hands.
She herself had already washed hers earlier; it was a modern person's habit. But now they were in the countryside, and her son was only three and a half years old. Despite being so hungry, he insisted on washing his hands first. His manners were impeccable.
Tian Sangsang rested her chin on her hand, watching him as he finished washing his hands. She grabbed a towel from the side to help him dry them and smiled, asking teasingly, "Yanyan, who taught you to wash your hands before eating?"
"Teacher Zhou," Meng Shuyan furrowed his little brows. He'd overheard Teacher Zhou telling the other kids once.
"Well, it seems Teacher Zhou is an excellent teacher." Tian Sangsang held his hand and returned to the table.
Just as Meng Shuyan picked up his spoon and was about to eat, he paused, turning to glance at her. "Not good."
"Why not good?" Tian Sangsang was stunned. A teacher who preached good habits and values couldn't be all bad.
"He doesn't like Mommy."
What?! Tian Sangsang jolted awake... Surely this Teacher Zhou wasn't Zhou Zheng, was he? Of course he was! There was no other teacher surnamed Zhou in the village!
"Mommy doesn't like him either, but he's right about washing hands before meals. We should believe in the truth; it doesn't matter who says it." Tian Sangsang replied immediately.
"Mommy doesn't like Teacher Zhou anymore?" Meng Shuyan was astonished, setting down his spoon to stare at her with wide eyes. "But Mommy said she liked Teacher Zhou before."
Huh? The original owner sure didn't know how to cover things up! Now even her son knew she was close to having a "second spring." Wait a minute, didn't practically the whole village know this? Everyone knew she, this tall, dark, fat toad, dreamed of eating swan meat.
"Mommy doesn't like him anymore. Mommy likes you. Mommy used to like Teacher Zhou because he reminded her of your dad." Tian Sangsang explained.
"Dad?" Meng Shuyan bit his little lip and suddenly seemed completely deflated, his head sagging as he became unusually solemn.
Tian Sangsang cursed herself for speaking too quickly. To her, his dad was just some passing stranger, but to a child, it was a tender spot in their heart.
"Yanyan, what's wrong?" Tian Sangsang touched his curly hair and cupped his small face with both hands.
Meng Shuyan shook his head. He had so much to say but struggled to get the words out. Holding back the urge to cry, he softly asked, "What kind of person is my dad?"
He didn't ask where his dad was or why he didn't have one. Instead, he asked what kind of person his dad was. How was Tian Sangsang supposed to respond? Was he really only three and a half years old? Clearly, she couldn't brush him off with something like "Your dad died, and the grass at his grave grows taller than you." The little guy might just end up asking, "Why did dad die?" And if he thought of the two deceased relatives, he might very well spiral into misery.
"Well..." Tian Sangsang paused for a moment before speaking gently. "You see, you don't look like Mommy at all—so you must look like your dad. Mommy doesn't know where he is either. But he definitely didn't abandon Yanyan. Yanyan is so outstanding, so adorable—no one could ever dislike Yanyan. You have to believe that if fate allows, you'll meet him one day."
Look like Dad… So does that mean that in the future, if he meets someone who looks like him, it could be his dad?
Meng Shuyan worked hard to digest his mom's words. His bright, sparkling eyes lifted as he pursed his little lips resolutely and said, "Mommy, I'll grow up fast, study hard, and take care of you. When Dad comes to find me in the future, he'll definitely love me and Mommy too."
"Absolutely! Our Yanyan is lovable to everyone, even flowers bloom when they see you. He'll definitely love you!" Tian Sangsang laughed and said, "Now hurry up and eat."