Volume One, Chapter Three: The Widowed Mother Abandoned by Her Sons in the Year of Famine 3 [Expression]

Mo Mo felt awkward—she certainly couldn't say she was laughing herself to the floor, ha ha.

Then she spoke to soothe him:

“Alright, alright, mother is fine. Cai, why have you come?”

The boy stepped forward carefully to help his mother up, nervously scanning her from head to toe before bursting into tears and holding her tightly.

“Wah, mother, mother, it’s so good that you’re alright! I’m sorry I was late! When eldest and second brother carried you out this evening, I saw and followed from afar. When you all went into the old house, I was afraid they'd notice me, so I hurried home to pack and hid in the backyard, only sneaking out when they returned to their rooms.

Mother, let’s leave together and find eldest sister. From now on, your son and eldest sister will take good care of you!”

Chen Cai was overwhelmed with guilt like a tidal wave.

No one knew how much he blamed himself when he first entered and saw his mother lying alone on the floor.

He hated coming too late, hated his own weakness for not being able to support her, hated his young age and lack of strength for losing to eldest and second brothers.

Seeing his mother dressed so lightly, he quickly loosened the bundle to take out her old padded coat and draped it over her.

In his haste, the ten-year-old boy had only managed to grab his and his mother’s padded coats, two water bags, and a few hard biscuits.

Those biscuits had been stolen secretly from the kitchen cupboard by climbing through the window—they were the rations eldest and second brothers had prepared for chopping wood in the mountains the next day.

“Mother, you must be starving. Have some water and biscuits. Look, I brought six; that should be enough to get us to eldest sister’s.”

Mo Mo watched the boy’s constant fussing with a sigh:

“I always said, the original owner and Chen Zhuzi were good people. How could they have children who weren’t worthy? Those two brats must have been born into the wrong family. Look at this boy—he’s truly well raised. And my memory tells me the daughter was very filial to the original owner too.”

Three Bao’er nodded in agreement.

Mo Mo stopped the boy from continuing his busy fussing and gently patted his head.

“Good child, I know you’re good. Mother’s not hungry, you eat instead.

After what happened, mother has given up on your brothers. Don’t worry, my body is fine now.

Mother has endured all these years; a little cold won’t stop her.”

Cai stubbornly offered the biscuits, looking into his mother’s tender eyes.

“Mother, you’re lying. You haven’t eaten all day. How could you not be hungry? I know today when sister-in-law cooked, she didn’t prepare your portion.”

Mo Mo felt a warmth rise in her heart. How could anyone not love a child so caring?

She turned and began pulling items from her arms—actually from her space.

She took her son’s small hand and placed a cornbread bun in his palm. Four more, wrapped in cloth, were tucked back into his small bundle.

These were left over from her previous tasks as a destitute woman on the run—she had stockpiled thousands.

To avoid suspicion, she had let them cool before wrapping them in groups of five in cloth to store in the space. Now they came in handy.

“Eat quickly, little treasure. Mother has food here.

When I was sick, I guessed your brothers might abandon me, but still hoped not, so I only hid these buns for emergencies. Who would have thought it would come to this?

Besides, your grandfather left many good things. I’ve kept them safe. Don’t worry, I’ll raise you plump and healthy.”

Mo Mo smiled and pinched his little face.

Cai blushed hearing his mother call him ‘little treasure.’ Though just ten, his heart fluttered joyfully.

Three Bao’er was not pleased, rolling around in Mo Mo’s mind. “Ahhh, I’m not your only treasure anymore!”

Mo Mo smiled and soothed, “He’s a fake treasure; you’re the real one. We’re going to fight side by side for ten thousand years.”

“Hmph, of course—we’re the best in the world!”

Meanwhile, Cai stared at the plump cornbread in his hand, swallowed nervously, and bit tentatively, closing his eyes in bliss.

The gritty texture of the cornmeal showed on the bun’s surface; rough yet simple, it gave off a natural sweetness.

He finished quickly, thinking it the best cornbread he had ever tasted, licking his lips in lingering delight.

“Mother, I’m done eating. Let’s go. We’ll reach eldest sister’s house by morning.

I’ll go hunting rabbits in the mountains for you and be a good son!”

He puffed out his chest, showing off his “strength.”

The boy before her looked only seven due to malnutrition, though ten years old.

Still, he was quite handsome, bearing a striking resemblance to the original, except for round eyes inherited from his father Chen Zhuzi.

His thin frame making such a comical pose was too amusing.

Mo Mo couldn’t help laughing, both heartbroken and amused.

“All right, mother will wait for your filial care. But it’s not our time to leave yet; this family doesn’t get to decide.

When dawn breaks, we’ll go home.”

Seeing her confident smile, Cai knew his once vigorous mother had returned.

His eyes reddened as he shouted back:

“Yes! Cai will protect mother!”

Mo Mo then used a broken box in the corner of the old house as cover and pulled from her space a two-meter-long, extra-warm quilt, worn-looking because it was covered with an old sheet.

She called her little son over, laid the quilt half folded in the corner, half as a mattress, half as a cover, preparing to rest.

Outside, wind and snow raged, but inside, Cai nestled warmly in his mother’s arms, his excited little face flushed as he fell asleep peacefully.

Taking the chance, Mo Mo prepared for the next day’s dealings with her ungrateful sons, having Three Bao’er purchase a D-grade gene drug which she administered.

Thanks to previous conditioning, this time the transformation was painless, and his muscles became stronger and more powerful.

She also bought calcium supplements for strengthening and carefully slipped them into Chen Cai’s slightly open mouth as he slept.

With everything done, Mo Mo lay down beside her youngest son.

At dawn, the mountain village lay cloaked in shimmering white.

Last night’s heavy snow had silently covered the earth, erasing all traces of mud, leaving only pristine whiteness, with fine snowflakes still drifting from the sky.

Early morning, mother and son woke and ate two cornbread buns each, washed down with the water Cai had brought.

They packed the quilt back into the broken box and stepped through the snow toward their home, planning to return for it once their business was done.

In the quiet village, a loud banging echoed—“Bang, bang, bang! Bang, bang, bang!”—at the Chen family gate.

Mo Mo grasped a large wooden stick she had picked up along the way and hammered on the gate with a deafening noise, causing snow to cascade from the eaves.

“Who’s there? Mourning? What’s with the door banging so early? Coming, coming—stop knocking!”

Inside came the shout of a woman, and the gate opened to reveal a plump, twenty-something woman with an oval face.

Wang Fang saw the old woman and the younger brother-in-law outside and nearly fainted.

She scrambled back inside, panicked, shouting, “Help! She’s come back from the dead!”

Mo Mo snorted coldly and strode after her little son.