Reborn a day later, I emptied my enemy's possessions beforehand.

Zhou Haiqing sat on the stool, holding a bowl full of stir-fried potatoes and meat.

Her eyes were full of tears, which swirled inside before finally sliding down her thin cheeks and dripping onto the rim of the bowl.

She looked up at her older brother, her lips trembling several times, her voice soft and trembling:

"Big brother... I... I don't want to eat anymore... Please don't argue with Dad... I'll just have cornbread..."

As she spoke, she was about to pour the food from her bowl into her plate.

Zhou Haibing reached out and pressed down on her wrist.

"Don't go back." He crouched down, bringing his gaze level with his sister's eyes, his voice soft and gentle, as if afraid of frightening her.

"This is for you to eat. Eat it. If anyone dares to stop you from eating this meat today, I'll make them pay."

Zhou Haiqing looked into his eyes.

She saw something different in those eyes than usual, something she had never seen in her older brother's eyes before.

She couldn't say what it was, but she could sense that her older brother had changed since noon today.

He's no longer the older brother who always keeps his head down, always stays silent, and always swallows his grievances.

She lowered her head, picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks, and put it in her mouth.

With its perfect balance of lean and fatty meat, it's soft and fragrant when you chew it.

The unique aroma of pork exploded in her mouth, and she chewed for a long, long time before finally swallowing it.

Then she looked up at her older brother, smiled through her tears—a smile that was both silly and beautiful, revealing a missing front tooth, and her voice was soft and delicate:

"Brother, the pork smells so good, it's delicious!"

Looking at her smiling face, at her missing front tooth, at the two lines of tears that hadn't dried on her sallow face, Zhou Haibing felt as if something had filled the space in his heart.

He reached out and touched his sister's head, then gently patted her shoulder.

"Eat up. If it's not enough, I'll make you more next time."

The main room remained quiet for quite some time.

Zhou Fuxiang sat in the main seat, his hands resting on his knees, his eyes glancing at Zhou Haibing every now and then.

Then he glanced at Zhou Haiqing's bowl of potatoes and pork, piled high with meat. The flesh on his cheeks bulged as if he was swallowing something back.

Zhou Hailong shrank back on the stool next to him, having already put down his chopsticks, not daring to reach for any more food.

With her head down, she used the tips of her chopsticks to pick at the remaining crumbs of cornbread in her bowl, glancing at Zhou Haibing out of the corner of her eye every now and then before quickly looking away, much more obedient than before.

Both of them were stunned by what Zhou Haibing had just done.

That look in his eyes, that tone of voice, that unyielding and assertive demeanor—it was a completely different person from the quiet, submissive Zhou Haibing who always obeyed his father.

Having lived for so many years, Zhou Fuxiang believed he understood his eldest son's temperament perfectly.

Diligent, honest, filial, never talk back, and never disobeys orders. He has always been the one who has given him the least trouble since childhood.

But the Zhou Haibing sitting across from him today gave him an inexplicable sense of unfamiliarity, as if another soul had taken up residence in the same shell.

Zhou Haiqing sat next to Zhou Haibing, holding a bowl full of stir-fried potatoes and meat. Looking at the overflowing dish and then at his older brother's face, he felt a mix of warmth and sadness in his heart.

What warmed her heart was that this was the first time her older brother had protected her like this in front of their father, and what made her feel bittersweet was that she had almost never had such a moment in her life.

She lowered her head, picked up a piece of meat with her chopsticks, and it took her several tries to hold it steady. The piece of meat was a size larger than the others, with alternating layers of fat and lean meat, and it looked delicious.

She placed the piece of meat on the edge of Zhou Haibing's bowl, her voice soft and low, as if afraid her father would hear:

"Big brother, have a piece too."

Zhou Haibing felt a pang of tenderness when he saw his sister's thin wrist, which was practically skin and bones, holding a piece of meat and presenting it to him with a thin chopstick.

He reached out and gently grasped his sister's wrist, pressing the piece of meat back into her bowl. His voice was soft, carrying a reassuring gentleness.

"I don't like eating meat, you eat it."

Zhou Haiqing paused for a moment, then looked up at him, her eyes filled with that undisguised earnestness that only a child possesses:

"Big brother, you're lying. You said before that you liked to eat pork. Last year during Chinese New Year, you even told Dad that you wanted to eat braised pork."

Zhou Haibing smiled, a gentle and warm smile, completely different from the icy look in his eyes when he faced his father earlier.

He pushed the bowl closer to his sister's, lowering his voice even further:

"That's all in the past. Now your older brother doesn't like to eat it anymore. You eat, eat more, you're too thin."

Zhou Haiqing stared into his eyes for several seconds, as if trying to discern whether he was telling the truth or lying.

She saw a tenderness in her older brother's eyes that she had never seen before, a tenderness like a thick quilt that wrapped her up tightly.

Her nose tingled, and her eyes reddened again, but this time she didn't cry. She nodded firmly, lowered her head, and put the piece of meat into her mouth.

They chewed very slowly, taking a long time with each bite, as if trying to memorize the flavor.

Zhou Fuxiang saw all of this, his lips twitched a few times, but he didn't say anything in the end.

He picked up the rough porcelain bowl on the table, took a big gulp of water, slammed the bowl down on the table, cleared his throat, and changed the subject.

His voice was a little lower than before, but it still carried that uncompromising, "I've got it" tone:

"Haibing, I've already discussed your marriage with Guiying with the village chief."

The bride price typically consists of three turns and one sound—a bicycle, a sewing machine, a watch, and a radio.

The wedding date is set for the eighth day of next month; the village chief had someone choose the auspicious day.

Three turns and one sound.

Bicycles, sewing machines, watches, radios.

In those days, this was the highest level of betrothal gifts. Ordinary families struggled to afford even one item, let alone four.

When Zhou Fuxiang mentioned this, his tone was a mixture of boasting and satisfaction, as if he were announcing a major, already-confirmed happy event for the Zhou family.

The main room fell silent.

Zhou Hailong raised his head, crumbs of cornbread still clinging to the corner of his mouth. His eyes swept between Zhou Fuxiang and Zhou Haibing, but he didn't say anything.

Zhou Haiqing also stopped eating. She hadn't finished the food in her bowl, but she had no appetite. Her gaze fell on her older brother's face, with a hint of worry that was hard to describe.

Zhou Haibing slowly placed the chopsticks in his hand on the table, making a very soft sound.

Then he raised his head, looked at his father, and said, word by word, "I will not marry Sun Guiying."