Chapter Two: My Son’s Culinary Skills

Mother... was speaking to her so gently! And she hadn't cried! In the past, her mother always cried and rarely spoke to her or her brother.

Unable to contain herself, Yun Erya broke into a wide, joyful smile and bounced into the room.

Only then did Yun Shuang notice that the girl was carrying a wooden bowl with a chipped rim. She ran up and, as if presenting a treasure, handed the bowl to Yun Shuang. "Mother, this is mushroom soup made by brother. Erya saved a bowl especially for you! Mother, please hold the bowl first!"

Yun Shuang glanced at the soup, which looked like dishwater with a few random pieces of mushrooms floating in it. Something in her memory stirred, and her brow twitched ever so slightly. But faced with the little girl’s enthusiasm, Yun Shuang raised her hand and took the bowl.

The little girl immediately hopped outside, and when she returned, she was holding a skewer of grilled fish as long as a child’s forearm.

Looking at the fish, roasted until it was nearly charcoal, Yun Shuang could no longer suppress a slight twitch at the corner of her mouth.

She remembered the pain the previous Yun Shuang had endured at the hands of her son’s unbelievably dreadful cooking. Back then, the original Yun Shuang was lost in grief and cared little about what she put in her mouth.

The little girl shoved the skewer of fish into Yun Shuang’s hand, swallowed audibly, and looked at her with longing. "Mother, please eat! Erya and brother saved this especially for you! Brother said you’re still sick and need nourishment. After finishing his meal, he went out again to look for more food."

Although, brother often came back empty-handed.

Finding a few mushrooms and catching some fish today was already quite impressive!

As Erya spoke, her stomach suddenly let out a loud, rumbling growl. Her face flushed red, and she quickly clapped her hands over her belly.

Yun Shuang looked at the thin, frail girl before her, whose belly was oddly distended, and frowned slightly.

Such children she’d only ever seen in television documentaries about African slums, where kids lacked sufficient protein in their diet. The result was poor muscle development, and the abdominal muscles couldn't support the organs, causing this kind of nutritional edema.

Simply put, it was malnutrition.

The two children were only five years old, a time when their bodies needed nourishment. Starving one day and feasting the next, always eating such things—how could they possibly get enough nutrients?

She glanced at the scorched fish in her hand, but truly couldn't bring herself to eat it.

It wasn't that she didn't want to give her son this gesture, but eating too much burnt food was unhealthy.

She could only pick up the bowl and take a sip of the soup, her face contorting in discomfort.

The soup was utterly tasteless, with an indescribable strange smell.

With the original owner's memories, she knew their family was poor, but the neighbors often helped with some provisions, like coarse salt.

Yet perhaps to save ingredients, Dog Egg’s cooking was always bland and watery.

Erya lay on the bed, blinking at her. Seeing that Yun Shuang took only one sip and stopped, her face filled with worry. "Mother, why aren’t you drinking?"

Yun Shuang looked down at the little girl pouting, smiled suddenly, and said, "It's not that I don't want to drink, but this soup is too little, not enough. Come, Erya, let’s go to the kitchen. Mother will make something delicious for you."

Erya was stunned. Mother would cook something delicious?

In her memory, it had been ages since her mother entered the kitchen; she’d forgotten what her mother's cooking tasted like.

Without hesitation, Yun Shuang got out of bed, slipped into her dirty, hole-ridden cloth shoes, and followed the path in her memory toward the kitchen.

The house was as dilapidated outside as inside. The stone wall at the entrance had collapsed in several places, the wooden door was weathered and worn, and in the upper left corner of the yard was a small, long-abandoned vegetable patch.

Yun Shuang paused as she passed the patch.

Despite all her hardships, the original owner had once tried to live well. After having two children, she learned to plant vegetables and do needlework to supplement the household, just like other country women.

But before long, news came from the neighboring Sù Prefecture: the magistrate’s daughter had married a scholar who had once saved her, with a lavish dowry. The tale of the "phoenix man" always finds an audience, no matter the era, and so the story spread even to their little village.

The news shattered the fragile recovery the original owner had managed, and from then on, she was consumed by grief.

The original owner had thought about returning home, but a woman who had eloped and borne two children without a known father would only bring trouble and shame to her family.

After a brief glance, Yun Shuang withdrew her gaze.

The original owner had been strong enough, but unfortunately, she was a woman raised in the deep chambers of an ancient household. When confronted with such adversity, she was like a flower from a greenhouse suddenly battered by storms, with no idea how to protect herself, doomed to fall into the mud.

The kitchen was just as the original owner remembered: crude and filthy, with only a dirty stove and a jumble of bottles and jars containing condiments, mostly gifts from the villagers.

Most of the jars were empty, with only some coarse salt and a small tin of sesame oil left. To Yun Shuang’s surprise, there was still half a jar of malt sugar.

Erya immediately exclaimed excitedly, "Mother, that was given to us by the village chief's wife two days ago! But brother won't let me eat it, saying... saying the village chief's wife is a bad person..."

As she spoke, the little girl looked utterly confused.

She didn’t understand why brother said the village chief’s wife was bad; the lady was always gentle and treated them kindly.

But brother must be right! The little girl couldn’t grasp it, but she trusted her brother unconditionally.

The "village chief's wife" she mentioned was the wife of the chief, whom everyone called Sister Miao. Over the years, she’d given them many good things, but her intentions were obvious to anyone with eyes. Sister Miao’s youngest son was simple-minded and would have trouble marrying; from the first day the original owner arrived in the village, Sister Miao had set her sights on the pretty newcomer.

The original owner brought two children? That was no obstacle at all. Their region, Xia Prefecture, was on the frontier. Changsheng Village was right by the border, initially formed by the families of soldiers, so virtually all the villagers were military households.

In the Great Qi, military households were strictly managed; once registered, it was hard to leave, and every household had to send an adult male to serve. But because military life was so harsh, many tried to escape each year.

It was said that since a strict and ruthless general took charge in Xia Prefecture, fewer soldiers and households had fled than in surrounding regions. But before his arrival, many ran away.

That was why the original owner could settle so easily in the village. To stay, one had to join the military household register, and everyone was eager to shed their status—so they welcomed anyone who came forward.

The house they lived in now had belonged to a fleeing military household.

Thus, Sister Miao didn’t mind the original owner’s two children at all, and she was more interested in Dog Egg. When he grew up, he’d be a strong laborer and could fill the military obligation for her family. Why not?

Besides, with her son's condition, it was unclear if he could ever have children.

The original owner had noticed these things, but she’d had no energy to deal with them.

And Dog Egg, just a child, hadn’t seen through Sister Miao’s intentions before—why did he suddenly understand now?

Yun Shuang pondered for a moment, then set the matter aside and continued to search for ingredients in the kitchen.

Eventually, she found a small basket of assorted mushrooms—left over from Dog Egg’s foraging that morning. Clearly, the boy had excellent survival skills; Yun Shuang examined them carefully and confirmed they were all edible.

Outside the kitchen, in a battered water jar, two lively fish swam.

Beside the jar lay two muddy taros.

Though the supplies were scant, they would suffice.

Yun Shuang rolled up her sleeves and smiled, "Erya, let’s make something delicious for you and brother!"