Hard work after winning the lottery

"Silly girl."

Zhou Yanjin stretched out his large hand, covered in sawdust, wanting to touch his daughter's head, but he pulled his hand back halfway, afraid of getting her dirty. "Daddy is earning firewood money for Nuannuan, otherwise breakfast won't be cooked properly."

Grandma Hua poked her head out of the kitchen, holding a large wooden spoon in her hand, her face beaming with a kind smile:

"Oh, our little sleepyhead is up? Quick, quick, Yunyun, take her to wash her face, breakfast will be ready soon."

Just then, the door to the west wing creaked open.

Si Tao emerged with a head of hair even messier than Nuan Nuan's, his eyes half-open, clearly still sleepwalking. He yawned, his mouth agape enough to fit an egg.

"Good morning... What kind of unparalleled martial arts is Dad practicing so early in the morning? The sound of chopping wood is deafening."

Immediately afterwards, Si'an and Si'le also came out.

Si'an still had a cold and aloof expression. Although he had just woken up, his back was ramrod straight, but a few slightly sticking-up hairs gave him away.

Sile is the most worry-free; she already has Little Potato's clothes in her hand.

Little Potato was still a bit drowsy. He was led out by Sile's hand, rubbing his eyes as he walked, muttering to himself:

"Brother, I need to pee..."

The courtyard instantly became as lively as a vegetable market.

Beside the well.

Hua Yun pressed the handle of the well, and clear, cool groundwater gushed out with a "splash".

Zhou Yanjin stopped chopping wood and squatted down to squeeze toothpaste for her daughter.

"Ah—" Nuan Nuan opened her mouth wide.

"Brush it yourself." Zhou Yanjin shoved the little duck toothbrush into her hand. Although his tone was stern, his eyes were full of affection. "Brush it up and down, inside and out. If you don't brush it clean, you won't get any roast lamb this morning."

Upon hearing "roasted mutton," Nuannuan instantly sobered up, waving her toothbrush around like a whirlwind, her mouth full of white foam.

"Ptooey! Ptooey! Ptooey!"

Little Potato, following suit, grabbed a large toothbrush—the kind used for brushing shoes—and was about to put it in his mouth when Si Tao, quick as a flash, snatched it away.

"My goodness! That's for shining shoes! Yours is hanging on the wall!"

Si Tao's shout startled the sparrows that were dozing in the tree, and they all flew away.

After a chaotic washing and grooming process, the family finally sat down neatly around the large round table in the yard.

This breakfast was quite lavish.

A large pot of golden, thick millet porridge, simmered over a wood-fired stove, was covered with a thick layer of rice oil and had a wonderful aroma.

A large plate of golden fried eggs, crispy on the edges and tender in the middle.

There was also a plate of thinly sliced, marbled roasted lamb—leftovers from yesterday. After sitting overnight, it had a unique flavor when eaten cold; the meat was firm and became more fragrant with each chew.

But the most eye-catching items were the several dishes of pickled vegetables in the middle.

Pickled cowpeas, dried radishes, and pickled cucumbers—their vibrant red and green colors are enough to make your mouth water.

Grandpa Zhou Yinchuan and Grandpa Hua Mutou were always seated next to each other.

The two old men each had a bowl of porridge in front of them and chopsticks in their hands. Before they even started eating, they were already arguing again.

It all started with a dried radish.

Zhou Yinchuan picked up a dried radish, put it in his mouth, and took a bite. He frowned slightly, striking a pose like a food critic.

"Old Hua, you've dried these radishes a bit too long. They're a little too hard and tough on the teeth. And the saltiness... compared to the saltiness of my chef's pickled radishes, it lacks a bit of complexity."

Upon hearing this, Hua Mutou's mustache immediately perked up.

He slammed his chopsticks on the table, not to be outdone:

"Hey Zhou Dapao, you're like a wild boar that can't handle fine food! The radishes your auntie bought are all grown with chemical fertilizers. How can they compare to my homegrown radishes, which have been touched by frost? Mine are all-natural! They're chewy! Don't you understand?"

"Hey! You stubborn old mule, I'm talking about craftsmanship, not raw materials!" Zhou Yinchuan retorted.

"What's wrong with her skills? My wife's skills are famous for miles around!" Hua Mutou was fiercely protective of his wife; he absolutely couldn't tolerate anyone saying that his wife's skills were lacking.

The atmosphere at the table was tense and fraught with danger.

Hua Yun and Zhou Yanjin exchanged a glance, both seeing a helpless smile in each other's eyes. These two old children couldn't stand not bickering for a day.

Just then, a chubby little hand reached out.

Nuannuan took a small spoon and painstakingly scooped a spoonful of diced radish from the controversial dish, then stuffed it all into her mouth in one gulp.

Everyone at the table immediately focused their attention on her.

The little girl's cheeks were bulging as she chewed vigorously, making a crisp "crunch crunch" sound.

Then, those big eyes suddenly lit up, like stars.

"My great-grandmother's pickled vegetables are the best!"

Nuannuan held the spoon above her head and announced loudly, "It tastes even better than the meat at fancy restaurants! It's crispy and sweet!"

This childish, innocent ruling instantly broke the deadlock.

Hua Mutou was overjoyed, his eyes practically bulging with his teeth, and he proudly gestured with his chin towards Zhou Yinchuan:

"Did you hear that? Did you hear that? The eyes of the masses are discerning! Nuannuan's tongue, she got it from my daughter, it's so clever!"

Looking at his great-granddaughter's contented little face, Zhou Yinchuan had no temper left.

She immediately put on a smiling face, picked up the biggest fried egg, and put it into the warm bowl:

"Yes, yes, yes, if Nuannuan says it's delicious, then it's delicious! Here, Grandpa will give you an egg. Eat more so you can grow tall."

"Thank you, Great-Grandpa!" Nuannuan smiled sweetly.

Not to be outdone, Hua Mutou quickly picked up a piece of roasted mutton with his chopsticks:

"Eat meat! Eating meat will give you strength! This sheep was personally chosen by Grandpa!"

"Thank you, Grandpa!"

The two old men, whose combined age is nearly two hundred, were practically fighting with their chopsticks in mid-air as they tried to serve food to their great-granddaughter.

Zhou Yanjin watched this scene, then lowered her head and took a sip of warm millet porridge.

The warm current slid down my esophagus into my stomach, soothing me like a lukewarm breeze.

For him, the days when the whole family sat together, listening to the crowing of roosters and the barking of dogs, arguing about whether the pickled vegetables were delicious or not, were once so unattainable.

He turned his head and glanced at Hua Yun beside him.

Hua Yun was wiping the rice grains from the corner of Little Potato's mouth with gentle and skillful movements.

The morning light shone on her profile, making the fine downy hairs clearly visible.

As if sensing his gaze, Hua Yun turned her head, raised an eyebrow, and mouthed:

"What's wrong?"

Zhou Yanjin shook her head, a very faint smile curving her lips.

He quietly reached out from under the table and grasped Hua Yun's left hand, which was resting on her knee.

Hua Yun's hand trembled slightly as she tried to pull it back, but he held it tightly.

The man's palms were rough and warm, still carrying the warmth from chopping wood, domineering yet gentle.

Hua Yun stopped struggling, but her ears turned slightly red.

She glared at him and said in a voice only the two of them could hear:

"Eat your food properly and don't get physical."

Zhou Yanjin raised an eyebrow slightly and gently scratched her palm with his finger:

"I was shaking hands, I didn't move my feet."

Hua Yun remained silent.

This man's skin is getting thicker and thicker.