The beloved but ungrateful girl is reborn: This time she has truly changed.

Tang Yaozong and Tang Yaozu stared longingly at the pot, their mouths watering.

The water has boiled.

Tang Aijun hesitated.

How should I prepare the noodles? Should I pour the cornmeal in directly, or mix it with water first?

He tried pouring it directly.

As a result, the cornmeal clumped together when it came into contact with water, sank to the bottom of the pot, and stuck to the surface.

He quickly stirred it with a spoon, but the more he stirred, the more mushy it became, and smoke began to rise from the bottom of the pot, emitting a burnt smell.

"Dad! It's burnt! Add water quickly!" Tang Yaozong shouted.

He hurriedly added water.

Too much water was added, and the contents of the pot turned into a thin soup.

He added more noodles.

I added too much flour, and it became mushy again.

After going through this process repeatedly, by the time it was finally "made," the contents of the pot were indescribable—the bottom was burnt black and stuck to the bottom of the pot, impossible to scrape off; in the middle were clumps of undissolved dough; and on top floated a layer of raw flour.

We've run out of cornmeal.

Tang Aijun served three bowls of this dark yellow, lumpy porridge to the table.

Tang Yaozong and Tang Yaozu were starving. When they saw food, they didn't care what it was and pounced on it to drink.

"puff--!"

They both vomited at the same time.

"Dad, it's so bitter!" Tang Yaozong frowned, tears welling up in his eyes. "Dad, why is your cooking so terrible?"

Tang Yaozu even spat several times and cried loudly, "Stinky! Stinky!"

Tang Aijun himself had already taken a sip.

It is indeed bitter.

It was bitter and astringent, with a burnt taste, making it difficult to swallow.

How could it be bitter?!

He himself was also puzzled.

The cornmeal smells pretty good.

But a father's authority cannot be challenged.

He kicked each of them in the buttocks: "Eat! Eat it all up! Whoever doesn't finish, I'll spank their ass!"

The two sons were so frightened that they dared not cry anymore. They sobbed as they picked up their bowls and drank in small sips.

Tang Aijun also picked up his bowl, frowned, and blew on it as he drank.

My stomach, which was aching from hunger, felt a little better after being filled with this warm but unpalatable food.

But once the intense hunger subsided, the food in the bowl became even harder to swallow.

He managed to drink half a bowl, but couldn't drink any more.

Seeing that his two sons' bowls were still more than half full, he thought for a moment and poured the remaining porridge from his bowl into theirs.

"Eat more! You need to grow!"

Tang Yaozong and Tang Yaozu looked at the extra mushy food in their bowls and felt like crying.

Tang Aijun didn't really care about his two sons.

As far as I can remember, they have never been in such a sorry state.

Dirty clothes, a face like a cat's, messy hair, and the way she eats.

Of course he knew that they liked to run around wildly, fall down, play in the dirt, and pee and get muddy.

Boys are all like that.

However, their clothes, faces, and hands are always clean.

When sitting at the dinner table, he always looks picky—he doesn't like this, he doesn't want to eat that, and he has to be coaxed to eat a few bites.

What now?

They even had to force themselves to eat this pig swill.

Qi Weiwei.

Tang Aijun thought of Qi Weiwei again.

Is she so heartless that she doesn't even want her son anymore?

Although these two sons are his and Tang Tiantian's.

But Qi Weiwei, that fool, didn't know that.

—To this day, no one has told Tang Aijun that Qi Weiwei already knows the whole truth.

Tang Tiantian is in prison, and Sun Xidi is in a coma in the hospital.

Before Tang Qu, who knew the truth, could say anything, Zhang Qingtian was busy complaining.

He still thought that Qi Weiwei was just throwing a tantrum and had simply run away with the money.

Perhaps he should have taken his two sons with him when he went to see Qi Weiwei.

Let her see what her "favorite" two sons are doing now.

Doesn't she have a soft heart?

He always knew that Qi Weiwei was a simple-minded girl, uneducated, ignorant, and easily fooled.

But she's not bad.

She has a soft heart.

She feels heartache when she sees a child crying; she takes care of an elderly person who is ill; she cleans up a messy house.

Given this, how could Qi Weiwei not care about her two sons who were so hungry and dirty?

But where is Qi Weiwei?!

Tang Aijun's mind raced.

Will she stay at her parents' house?

Or, he could go to her parents' house first thing tomorrow morning and wait for them at the door!

She brought her two sons, let them cry and make a scene, and let Qi Weiwei see the miserable state of her "sons".

She'll definitely soften her heart.

They will definitely come back.

I will definitely continue to work like a slave for them and serve their family.

As for his scandal with Tang Tiantian, he didn't care at all—Tang Tiantian was already in jail, so what was there for Qi Weiwei to worry about now?

If he apologizes, admits his mistake, and buys Qi Weiwei some hair tie or handkerchief, the matter will definitely be over.

Perhaps Qi Weiwei would be very moved—because he had never given Qi Weiwei a single feather in his entire life.

Thinking of this, Tang Aijun felt a surge of hope and a hint of pride appeared on his face.

Yes, that's what we'll do.

I'll go to the railway family compound first thing tomorrow morning.

Qi Weiwei, you can't escape.

You were born a member of the Tang family, and you will die a ghost of the Tang family.

Want to run?

no way!

The night outside the window grew even darker.

The cold wind howled, making the window paper rustle loudly.

The fire in the stove was going out, and the room was getting colder and colder.

Tang Yaozong and Tang Yaozu had finished their porridge, leaving some residue at the bottom of the bowl, which Tang Aijun forced them to lick clean with their tongues.

They were burping and looking at Tang Aijun pitifully.

"Dad, it's cold..."

Tang Aijun looked at them, feeling irritated.

cold?

He was cold too.

But what could he do?

Quilt?

Qi Weiwei cut everything she could and tore everything she could.

煤？

There was no coal left in the house, and he didn't know how to light the stove.

Moreover, he knew that if the stove wasn't lit properly, he would suffer from carbon monoxide poisoning.

This home... seems to have been completely destroyed by Qi Weiwei.

No rush, he'll have plenty of ways to deal with her when she gets back!

"Go to sleep!" Tang Aijun said irritably. "If you two squeeze together, you won't be cold!"

He ushered his two sons into the inner room, made them squeeze onto one bed, and covered them with a tattered quilt that had almost turned into a net.

He sat curled up on a chair in the main room, trying to conserve some body heat.

Late at night.

The sound of a train whistle drifted from afar, long and desolate.

Tang Aijun closed his eyes.

My mind is filled with Qi Weiwei.

Qi Weiwei, who always kept her head down, spoke softly, and was completely obedient to him.

Qi Weiwei, who broke with her family, went on a three-day hunger strike, and finally knelt down to beg Grandpa Qi for permission to marry him.

Qi Weiwei, who worked during her postpartum period after giving birth, her hands red from the cold, was still washing his clothes.

Qi Weiwei, who left the white flour for the children and ate cornmeal herself, even laughing and saying, "I don't like white flour."

Why?

Why would a woman like this suddenly change?

Will they steal money, vandalize homes, and run away?

Tang Aijun couldn't understand it.

All he knew was that he needed Qi Weiwei to come back.

She needs to continue to take care of him, the children, and the family.

tomorrow.

I'll definitely find her tomorrow.

We must bring her back.

must……

He kept telling himself this, as if he were hypnotizing himself.

But for some reason, the unease in my heart grew stronger and stronger.

It felt like something was slipping out of his control.

Like this cold winter night, it stretches endlessly, with no end in sight.