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

The group walked for quite a long time.

As we walked deeper into the woods, the layer of decaying leaves underfoot grew thicker and thicker, making no sound as we stepped on cotton wool.

The sunlight had long been filtered out by the tree canopy overhead, and the air around was damp and slightly musty. Occasionally, a bird's call would come from afar, only to be swallowed up by the dense forest and not heard clearly.

They weren't empty-handed on the way.

Lin Qianqian, with her sharp eyes, spotted a patch of wild celery by a stream. It was tender and fresh, and she picked a whole bunch of it.

Lin Yulong found a few bird eggs under the roots of an old pine tree. They were small, with brown spots on their bluish-gray shells. He carefully held them in his hands, as if he were holding a handful of water.

Ding Xiaohu worked the hardest, trying to stuff everything he saw into his basket. Finally, with Lin Qianqian's guidance, he used his small sickle to dig out a few thick, sturdy things from the ground—brown outer skin, covered in mud, long cylindrical in shape, like sections of plump wooden sticks.

"Sister Qianqian, you can't eat this!"

When Ding Xiaohu saw what he had dug out, his hand trembled and he almost threw it away.

He took a half step back, his face contorted as if he had seen a snake, his eyebrows furrowed, his lips pursed, giving off a "don't hurt me" look.

"Some people in the village ate this before," he said in a low voice, as if afraid the creature would hear him, "It's a poisonous potato; it can kill you!"

Lin Qianqian squatted down, took the cassava from his hand, weighed it in her hand, and then scraped the outer skin with her fingernail to reveal the snow-white flesh inside.

"This is cassava, it's edible."

She looked up at Ding Xiaohu, her lips curving slightly as if she were laughing at his alarmed expression.

"That person died because he didn't know how to eat it. Cassava can't be eaten raw, but if it's prepared properly, it's fine. Don't worry, it's delicious."

Ding Xiaohu looked at her with some skepticism, his eyes darting around, and suddenly exclaimed "Ah!" as if he had figured something out.

"Did Uncle Guoan say that too?"

Lin Qianqian shook her head.

"That's what my mother said."

She spoke in a very flat tone, as if she were talking about something that had nothing to do with her.

But as soon as she said it, she thought about it again—after all, her mother was dead, and there was no way to verify it.

Others can't find the answer, and they can't ask the question.

In the original owner's memories, there wasn't much information about this mother, but there were a few key pieces of the puzzle: her mother was bought by her father, but unfortunately she passed away early, leaving behind two children, a daughter who was not yet grown up and a son who was just four or five years old.

After Lin Qianqian transmigrated, she sometimes wondered if her mother was also a transmigrator.

But the idea was too big for her to think about.

"You mean Aunt Su?"

Ding Xiaohu squatted down, rested his hands on his knees, tilted his head to look at her, and his eyes became more serious.

"I heard from my mother that Aunt Su wasn't from around here. My mother also said that when Aunt Su first came, the clothes she wore were so beautiful. No one in the village had ever seen such fabric before. It was so smooth and shiny, like water. Later, Old Mrs. Lin and Lin Xiaohua took them all away..."

As he was talking, he suddenly noticed that Lin Qianqian was staring at him. Her gaze was different from usual, as if there was something heavy hidden beneath her eyes.

"Tiger, who told you that?" Lin Qianqian asked.

"My mom!" Ding Xiaohu slapped his thigh confidently. "Aunt Su used to be my mom's best friend. She told her everything. My mom said that when they were young, they would go to the river to wash clothes together, and Aunt Su could sing songs. She was so beautiful. It's a pity that later..."

He paused, as if he felt that what he was about to say was difficult, and lowered his voice: "After Aunt Su left, my mother cried for several days."

Lin Qianqian remained silent for a while.

"Have you ever heard of where my maternal grandfather's house is?"

Ding Xiaohu scratched his head, thought about it seriously, and finally shook his head: "No, my mother never mentioned that."

Lin Qianqian nodded and didn't ask any further questions.