Chapter 276

"That potion from Emily Johnson costs ten dollars per pound!" A group of villagers squatted by the field, chatting.

"Exactly! If it weren't for Captain Richard Lopez biting the bullet and buying it, our harvest this year would've been ruined!"

John Stone Sr.'s cousin puffed on his pipe, squinting. "After the autumn harvest, we ought to reward Emily. That stuff saved our lives."

Everyone nodded in agreement. The memory of past years spent starving still sent shivers down their spines.

Over at the Johnson family's courtyard, Anthony Johnson barged in, lunchbox in hand.

"Mom, when's Emily coming back?" he asked impatiently. "Didn't they say they'd find her husband a job? It's been half a year already!"

Margaret Johnson, sorting vegetables, didn't look up. "She just finished her college entrance exams. We're waiting for the admission letter. If there's no news by the start of the semester, we'll have them come to the city."

She glanced at the lunchbox. "Since when do you splurge on meat?"

Ever since the family split, her younger son had been visiting more often—especially with that chubby grandson of his, toddling around adorably.

"Just missed you and Dad, that's all," Anthony grinned, sidling closer. "Has Richard visited lately?"

Margaret snorted. "Your father's about to come home. Have you talked to Emily?"

"Last month she sent me some mountain goods. My wife sent back some fabric in return." He scratched his head. "Mom, do you think she'll get in?"

Margaret sighed. All four children were married now. She'd once hoped her eldest daughter would go to college, but that never happened. As for the boys—one was already in his thirties, and the other had never been a standout student.

"If she gets in, you're cooking the celebration feast," Margaret said suddenly.

Anthony thumped his chest. "Absolutely! My father-in-law taught me well—I'll make sure Emily's honored properly!"

Just then, Henry Johnson pushed the door open.

"Dad!" Anthony jumped up. "Brought you braised pork—eat it while it's hot! Gotta run!"

Before Henry could react, his son had already vanished.

"What did that rascal want?" Henry asked suspiciously.

Margaret opened the lunchbox, releasing a rich aroma. "Just bringing you some warmth. Close the door and let's eat!"

The elderly couple had barely picked up their chopsticks when the postman's voice rang out: "Registered mail for the Johnsons! From the capital!"

Margaret's hands trembled, scattering vegetable leaves across the floor.