After the family split up, my stepmother and scumbag father begged me to come home.

Ding Xiaohu chuckled, placed the flatbread on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), and started eating his own.

He took a big bite and chewed it—the cornbread was really fragrant and sweet, much better than the bran cakes he usually ate.

But after swallowing it, he felt something was missing.

It lacks that spicy flavor.

He remembered the rabbit meat that Sister Qianqian made last night, so spicy and numbing, it felt like an electric shock on his tongue. He could eat two bowls of rice with that. Compared to that, the cornbread seemed bland.

Ding Xiaohu took another bite, and as he chewed, he suddenly felt a little guilty.

He's being spoiled.

In the past, being able to eat cornbread was such a happy thing.

Back then, the bread they brought was made of coarse rice flour with bran still attached. It was hard, crumbly, and made your throat feel rough when you swallowed it.

But for so many years, the villagers have been eating like this, trying to save as much as possible.

In a good year, things are alright, but in a bad year, the harvest is small, and we still have to pay taxes to the imperial court. The rest of the harvest won't last until the following year. Wild vegetables are also seasonal; they're not available all the time. My mother said that when they were young, they even ate tree bark.

Unlike now, when it's just plain cornmeal, still hot, he still complains it's not fragrant enough?

He glanced at Lin Qianqian secretly.

Sister Qianqian was eating in small bites, her expression very serious, as if she was savoring something.

Lin Yulong had already climbed off the kang (a heated brick bed) and was shuffling his shoes to fetch water to wash his hands. After washing, he came back, picked up a flatbread from the edge of the kang, took a bite, and mumbled "Delicious," his cheeks bulging.

Ding Xiaohu stuffed the remaining half of the pancake into his mouth, clapped his hands, and bent down to rummage through his basket: "Sister Qianqian, where are we going today? I brought a rope and a machete."

Lin Qianqian leaned against the door frame, with only one bite of biscuit left in her hand.

She didn't answer immediately, but stared blankly at the crooked jujube tree in the yard for a while.

"Let's try another route." She stuffed the pancake into her mouth, patted the crumbs off her hands, and said, "Let's go, while it's cool."

Ding Xiaohu had already put on his basket, the straps leaving two shallow marks on his shoulders. He stamped his foot and stood outside the gate of the Lin family's old house, craning his neck to look inside.

Lin Qianqian did a final check of the gear she needed for the trip up the mountain: a worn-out knife with rolled edges, some strips of cloth. She packed everything into her basket one by one, then pressed it down with her hands to make sure it wouldn't fall out on the way.

Lin Yulong also carried an empty basket on his back. He stood in the yard, took a twig and drew circles on the ground. After he finished drawing, he wiped them off with his foot and then drew them again.

"Let's go." Lin Qianqian locked the door, stuffed the key into her clothes, and glanced back at the latch—actually, there wasn't much to lock; the most valuable thing in the house was probably that broken iron pot, but the habit of locking the door was something she had developed before and couldn't break.

She hid all the money she earned in a jar and buried it there; even Lin Yulong didn't know where it was.

She wouldn't keep it in the house. The Lin family isn't a good family; they're capable of anything. Even though they've separated, they're still shameless!

She didn't want her hard-earned money to go to those ungrateful bastards. She wanted to work hard to earn money so that Ah Long could live a good life, go to school, and have a bright future.

She will take the place of the original owner and take good care of her younger brother.

Lin Yulong closed the courtyard gate and secured it with wire. The three of them walked along the village road towards the foot of the mountain.