Chapter Eight: No, You’ve Misunderstood What I Meant!

Lin Xiang threw off the quilt and headed straight for the kitchen.

Lin’s mother caught on and followed her. Just as Lin Xiang was about to take out the white flour that Liu Pei had brought in the afternoon, her mother quickly rushed over and snatched it away.

“Girl, are you crazy? Lin Yun doesn’t deserve white flour! Just having cornmeal buns to eat is already a blessing!”

Lin Xiang pointed to the empty stove and cold ashes. “Then tell me, where are the cornmeal buns?”

“Spent two mao on fever medicine for him, and you still want white flour? Not a chance!”

“Mom, the money for the medicine was earned by my brother too!” Lin Xiang pressed her throbbing temples, feeling a barrier between herself and her own mother.

“Mom, my brother’s wound is infected. If he doesn’t take fever medicine in time, it could be life-threatening!”

She leaned close to her mother’s ear. “Mom, think about it differently. You and I are lazy and gluttonous, but we haven’t starved to death all these years thanks to my brother’s hard work. The two yuan savings you have, isn’t that all earned by him? What if something happens to him? What will you and I do then?”

Lin Xiang didn’t want to admit she was a bloodsucking leech, but the original character had already laid the groundwork. If she strayed too far from that persona, it would arouse suspicion and only prolong her road back.

Her mother was selfish and greedy but loved her daughter and was willing to listen.

Lin Xiang’s reasoning struck a chord, and her mother agreed to prepare food for Lin Yun.

“But no white flour! We only have this little white flour left. If we give it all to him, how will we survive? Listen to me, use cornmeal instead!”

“Fine!” Cornmeal is cornmeal—better than nothing.

Lin Xiang originally wanted to make Lin Yun a bowl of hand-pulled noodles to soothe his stomach, but since white flour was forbidden, she could only make cornmeal buns.

After politely sending her mother out of the kitchen, Lin Xiang secretly scooped half a spoon of sugar from a nearly empty jar.

The book mentioned that Lin Yun wasn’t particular about food but had a sweet tooth.

The buns she made that morning had some white flour and sugar mixed in. Though the texture was mediocre, they had a sweet flavor.

Unfortunately, Lin Yun was unlucky. Just after Lin Xiang handed him the buns, he fainted from a high fever, and in the chaos, the buns were lost somewhere.

Knowing Lin Yun had a big appetite, Lin Xiang steamed four buns and picked a cucumber from their small patch of land, seasoning it with salt.

In the woodshed, Lin Yun tossed and turned, unable to sleep. His stomach felt as if it were being hammered relentlessly, pain causing cold sweat to bead on his forehead.

In the past twenty years, he had never eaten a full meal. Two meals a day was already generous for a mother like Lin’s. To save time, he swallowed his food in large gulps, which over time severely damaged his stomach.

The high fever caused by the wound infection only intensified the pain.

Faintly, he heard a knock on the door. Mustering his strength, he asked, “Who is it?”

“Brother, Mom said you haven’t eaten properly all day. You’re still sick now, so you can’t neglect your health, or it’ll be hard to recover later. I just steamed some buns and left them by the door. Remember to eat them when you get up.”

Lin Xiang placed the plate on the windowsill and returned to her room.

She never had the selfless mindset of doing good deeds quietly. Besides, she needed the male lead’s favor to return to her spacious two-hundred-square-meter mansion. Not boasting about her kindness was already a mercy.

Just after Lin Xiang returned to her room, Lin Yun, hearing the footsteps fade away, forced himself up and opened the door. His eyes immediately fell on the two plates on the windowsill.

One plate held four buns. Perhaps due to hunger-induced hallucination, the aroma attracted him irresistibly.

His hand reached for a bun but quickly pulled back.

“Lin Xiang always bossed me around. Why would she be so kind as to steam buns for me today?”

As for Lin Xiang’s claim that Mom remembered he hadn’t eaten all day, Lin Yun didn’t pay it any mind.

After twenty years of living together, he knew his mother’s nature too well — she wouldn’t care about his condition.

Unable to resist the stomach pain any longer, Lin Yun took a bun and chewed it. His eyes, dulled by suffering, suddenly brightened.

“Sweet?”

He glanced instinctively toward Lin Xiang’s room. The light was out; she must have gone to sleep.

The next morning, Lin Xiang went to collect the plates from Lin Yun’s room. He had eaten only two buns, leaving the cucumber untouched.

She knocked on his door. Lin Yun quickly opened it. The gratitude she had rehearsed for so long choked on her lips after she spoke.

“Are you feeling better?”

Her words were straightforward, but her lips pressed down, and her slender, angular face looked stern when she wasn’t smiling, making her seem angry.

Lin Yun misunderstood her. “Much better. I can work today.”

He rubbed Lin Xiang’s shoulder, then turned and left the yard, placing a straw hat on his head.

“No, you misunderstood me!” Lin Xiang hurried after him, but his steps were too fast. She could only watch his retreating figure.

She drooped her eyes. “After last night’s kindness of making buns, could that good feeling have just been wiped out by this misunderstanding?”

Unaware of Lin Xiang’s inner turmoil, Lin Yun’s task that day was to cut the rice straw. Finishing half a field alone would earn him full labor points.

His fever had subsided, and after eating two buns last night, he was barely holding on.

Even if he couldn’t, he had to push through.

At noon, knowing no one would bring him food, Lin Yun pulled a compressed biscuit from his jacket pocket and silently sat on the field to eat.

The biscuit was a gift from a comrade he had met while working in the county town. There were only two pieces, and Lin Yun had been reluctant to eat them.

Usually, he would just endure hunger, but now, still not fully recovered, he had to prioritize his health.

It was Lin Yun’s first time eating a compressed biscuit. After unwrapping it, he stuffed it into his mouth. Unlike the crispy texture he imagined, it was very dense. After chewing a small piece, his jaw ached.

“Are you eating?”

A familiar voice suddenly sounded by his ear. Lin Yun reflexively turned his head and met Lin Xiang’s enlarged face. Startled and unguarded, he choked as the biscuit he hadn’t swallowed rushed down his throat, causing him to cough uncontrollably, tears nearly streaming.

Lin Xiang quickly handed him the water she had prepared in advance. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”

Lin Yun clutched the pole and gulped down a large mouthful of water before barely swallowing the biscuit.