Chapter 43 Cooking Fish

"You must shell this entire pile of corn before you can eat." Mother Song placed the corn—which Huanya had already loosened along the rows with a tool—in front of Song Tiancheng, speaking with a completely expressionless face.

The smile at the corner of Song Tiancheng's mouth stiffened: "All of it?"

Mother Song raised an eyebrow: "Got a problem with that?"

"No." How could Song Tiancheng dare to have a problem? He obediently began shelling the corn.

Huanya blinked, feeling puzzled, when she heard Mother Song say again:

"Huanya is essentially your younger sister. When your own sister gets hurt, you not only fail to help, but you also tattle. This is your punishment."

Huanya paused, looking at Mother Song in surprise.

Song Tiancheng: "...Understood."

"As long as you understand." Mother Song pulled Huanya toward the kitchen.

Once inside the kitchen, Huanya whispered, "Aunty, Big Brother Tiancheng didn't mean it."

How shrewd was Mother Song? She saw right through what Huanya was thinking at a glance.

She let out a soft laugh and said, "Worried that Chengzi will be angry? Blaming you?"

Huanya bit her lower lip and nodded with an embarrassed expression.

Mother Song shook her head with amusement: "You silly girl, look at him. Does he look like he's angry?"

"Huh?" Huanya stared blankly for a moment before turning around.

Beneath the eaves, Song Tiancheng was quietly shelling the corn in his hands. The moment a corncob was tossed aside, she caught the upward curve of his lips. Where on earth was there any sign of anger?

Big Brother Tiancheng had been punished, yet he was happy?

"Big Brother Tiancheng..."

"Don't worry, that brat doesn't get angry that easily," Mother Song said with a smile. "He was only worried about you, so don't take it to heart."

Huanya shook her head like a rattle-drum: "I won't."

"That's settled then." Mother Song flipped the vegetables in the wok with a spatula while telling Huanya to tend the fire for her.

Seeing Huanya sitting obediently before the stove, Mother Song's gaze drifted back to Song Tiancheng under the eaves.

That little rascal, he's even learning how to bully people now.

After the midday meal, Mother Song shooed Huanya off to take a nap, and Song Tiancheng was moved onto the *kang*.

Mother Song rested for a short while as well, getting up only when it was close to the hour of *wei* (around 1:00 to 3:00 PM).

By the time she got up, Huanya had already started shelling corn again.

Mother Song stretched lazily and asked, "Are your hands better?"

Huanya smiled and held out both hands: "All better!"

After a careful inspection, the swelling had gone down considerably, and the wounds had scabbed over, making them look far less frightening than before.

Mother Song offered a few parting words of caution, telling her to be careful, and then left her to it.

After all, they were country folk; they weren't that delicate.

Huanya didn't think much of it either, shelling the corn with great enthusiasm.

This shelling continued right up until dusk. Seeing that the sun was about to set, Huanya hastily stood up: "Aunty, I'm going to make dinner!"

Mother Song acknowledged her and asked if she needed any help.

Huanya shook her head: "I can handle it."

"Alright."

Huanya ran into the kitchen, washed her hands with water, tied on her apron, and lit the fire to boil water before setting about preparing the fish she had caught earlier.

She had previously kept them alive in a wooden basin of water, and by now a fair amount of silt had settled at the bottom.

Huanya poured out the water, drew a fresh basin of clean water, and washed the fish thoroughly. With two swift strikes from the back of a cleaver, the fish that had been jumping around so lively a moment ago instantly went still.

Next, she scraped off the scales, slit open their bellies, removed the internal organs, and rinsed the abdominal cavities clean.

Then she scraped away the black slime on their backs. Once the fish were completely clean, she used a cloth to dry all the moisture from their surfaces before placing them into a bowl for later use.

The water in the large wok beside her had come to a rolling boil, so Huanya pulled out two logs of firewood and moved them over to the smaller wok.

Once the wok grew hot, she added oil, coated the entire surface with lard, and tossed the prepared fish directly into the pan.

*Sizzzzl—*

As soon as the fish hit the wok, an instant wave of rich aroma surged upward.