Chapter 189

"Emily, I'm heading home now!" Daisy Miller called out cheerfully, basket in hand as she walked briskly toward her house.

"Take care, Daisy."

Emily Johnson watched her leave before turning toward her own yard. It was amusing—though Daisy was younger, she had to address her as "sister-in-law" simply because Daisy's husband was a year older than Michael Stone.

As soon as she pushed open the gate, two little figures came barreling toward her.

"Mom's back!"

"I brought you some fried dough twists. Don't eat them all at once." Emily handed the oil-paper packet to the boys and headed straight for the kitchen with her vegetable basket.

What should she make for lunch?

A sudden craving for meat buns struck her. Too bad she couldn't buy any without ration coupons.

"David, go ask Grandma to come help make buns."

She deftly pulled two pounds of pork belly from her space and started kneading the dough. By the time she sprinkled in the yeast, the boys had already scampered out the door.

"Grandma! Mom wants you to make buns with her!"

Mary Stone was airing quilts in the yard and paused at the request. "Meat again?"

Her daughter-in-law had grown increasingly bold lately, constantly inviting them over for hearty meals. Though she pretended to grumble, her hands moved swiftly.

"Mom, I got the meat without coupons," Emily said, pointing to the pork on the cutting board. "Let's make two fillings—fresh pork and cured."

Mary's lips twitched. This extravagant girl—even buns had to be premium!

"Grandma, try a dough twist!" Tommy stretched on tiptoe to offer one.

"Sweetheart, you eat it—"

"Mom, we're teaching them filial respect," Emily said, chopping the meat. "If you refuse, they won't learn to honor their elders."

Mary blinked. Though illiterate, she couldn't deny her educated daughter-in-law's parenting skills. Her grandsons could already recite poems and do arithmetic—top of their class in the village.

"Alright, alright, Grandma will have one."

The braised pork bubbled in the pot, and the dough had risen. Mary rolled out wrappers with practiced ease while Emily tended the fire. The rich aroma of meat and steamed buns drifted beyond the yard, making the neighbor's child wail with envy.

"David, go get Grandpa for lunch."

The boys raced hand-in-hand toward the brigade office, only to encounter Henry Wood shivering on the path.

"Henry, here!" David generously shared a dough twist.

The timid boy accepted it quietly. "My stepmom sent me to find bugs for the chickens..."

"Who finds bugs in winter?" Tommy tilted his head. "You should go home!"

No one expected that single dough twist to cause trouble. By evening, a village child came running in panic:

"David! Henry's stepmom beat him till he got a fever! Noah says their house is in chaos!"

Emily's calligraphy brush clattered onto the paper, ink blooming like a dark stormcloud...