Chapter 4: Chapter 4: First Meeting, Dabao’s Worries

“Brother, do you smell that?” Beibei wrinkled her nose. The aroma of white rice porridge drifted over, and just the scent alone made her feel so happy.

Dabao smelled it too.

“Who’s cooking porridge? It smells so good!”

The two children greedily inhaled the fragrance of the rice porridge, satisfied smiles appearing on their faces.

They couldn’t even remember the last time they’d tasted white rice porridge.

Gu Qinghuan walked over slowly, holding a flashlight in one hand and an aluminum lunchbox in the other.

The original owner of this body would never have had a flashlight—she’d found it in the emergency kit at the villa.

At this late hour, there wasn’t even a kerosene lamp in the house, let alone electric lights or a flashlight. For now, she could only use the flashlight.

A beam of strong light shone onto the kang bed.

A slender figure appeared in front of her. At first glance, he looked like a corpse, which startled Gu Qinghuan.

The man was skin and bones, like a skeleton from a TV drama, and even more frightening at night.

The reason the impression was so vivid was because the man was almost naked from the waist down, only covered by an old towel. His legs and feet were exposed, dry and shockingly thin.

His face was gaunt, with deep-set eyes and high cheekbones. His long hair was disheveled, spread out over the kang, and he hadn’t shaved in ages. He looked just like an addict.

Despite his frail appearance, there was a strange, sickly beauty about him. He must have been very handsome once; even in his madness, he had a way of drawing the eye.

He was tall, tied up with a thick hemp rope. Clearly, life hadn’t been easy for him.

Liu Guifang had never treated this second son well. When others were around, she would put on a show and bring him a bite to eat.

When no one was there, she’d call him a lunatic and could go days without remembering to feed him.

She did it on purpose, hoping he’d starve to death and free everyone from the burden.

But things didn’t go as she wished. The crazy second son, though reduced to skin and bones, stubbornly clung to life.

That was because the two children often shared their own food with him and helped clean him up, allowing him to barely survive.

The two little ones, though not as frightening, were also painfully thin, dressed in ill-fitting, tattered clothes. But their small faces were at least clean.

They huddled beside their father, looking at Gu Qinghuan like startled birds. The little girl hid in her brother’s arms, trembling.

They already knew that Grandma had spent money to buy a stepmother to take care of their dad.

They’d heard from the village kids that stepmothers were scary, man-eating monsters who wouldn’t feed them and would eventually kick them out.

So, the two children were naturally a bit afraid of Gu Qinghuan, even though she was so beautiful—the prettiest person they’d ever seen.

The man on the bed felt the strong light and slowly opened his eyes. He frowned, his eyes half-open, his face full of impatience, like a lion about to roar.

Clearly, he didn’t like the harsh light. It made him inexplicably irritable, his whole body tense and restless.

Gu Qinghuan hurriedly pointed the flashlight behind her, afraid of angering the madman and causing trouble.

The man slowly closed his eyes again.

The two children’s gazes suddenly landed on the white rice porridge in her hand.

So it was the stepmother who made the rice porridge.

It smelled so good!

They licked their lips but didn’t dare ask for any.

Past experience had taught them that anything good to eat or drink in this house never belonged to them.

Gu Qinghuan looked at their frightened, bewildered eyes, feeling a complicated mix of emotions. She set the rice porridge on the rickety wooden table by the door.

“This is for you. Share it between yourselves. Don’t bother washing the lunchbox—just leave it at the door, and I’ll pick it up tomorrow.” With that, she turned and left.

She was hungry too.

Back in her space, Gu Qinghuan realized she’d forgotten to give them utensils. Oh well, they could figure out something so small themselves. She had no desire to go back—the look in that madman’s eyes was too frightening.

She sat down and started her own dinner: three medium-sized buns, two boiled eggs, and a bowl of white rice porridge, filling her stomach to the brim.

Meanwhile, the two children stared blankly in the direction Gu Qinghuan had left.

She actually gave them rice porridge?

And a whole lunchbox full!

Beibei was only four, at the age where everything looked delicious. She gazed greedily at the steaming porridge. “Brother, we get to eat rice porridge!”

The stepmother must be a good person, giving them rice porridge.

Dabao was six this year, and he already knew there was no such thing as a free meal in this world.

He said warily, “Er Dan said that before kidnappers snatch kids, they always give them something tasty to make them dizzy. Maybe she wants to sell us?”

Actually, Dabao had an even scarier suspicion—he thought the stepmother couldn’t possibly tolerate the two of them and might be trying to poison them. But he didn’t dare tell his little sister that.

In their short lives, the two children had experienced so little kindness that even the smallest gesture made them suspicious.

But it was precisely this wariness that had helped them survive.

When Beibei heard they might be sold, she shrank back in fear. “Then, brother, what should we do?”

They stared at the fragrant rice porridge but didn’t dare eat it, afraid that if they did, they’d never see their father again.

Their stomachs rumbled.

After a while, Dabao looked at his pitiful little sister, bit his lip, and made a decision.

“I’ll try a small bite first. If nothing happens to me after a while, we’ll share it. But if something does, you mustn’t touch that porridge.”

Beibei tried to hold him back, but she was too little. Dabao, like a martyr, climbed off the bed, picked up the rice porridge, and took a careful sip.

The still-warm rice porridge slid down his throat into his stomach—fragrant, soft, sticky… He never knew rice porridge could taste so good.

It was the best thing he’d ever eaten. Even years later, he would still remember the taste of this bowl of porridge.

After tasting something so delicious, he thought, even if he died, it would be worth it.

He climbed back onto the kang, lay down straight, and waited to see if anything would happen to his body.

Beibei licked her lips. “Brother, is the rice porridge good?”

She’d never had rice porridge in her life.

A tear slipped from the corner of Dabao’s eye. He vaguely remembered that before he turned three, life wasn’t so bad. But after being sent to Xujiatun, he’d never had enough to eat.

And when his sister arrived, she was only one, just weaned, and had never even tasted rice porridge.

“It’s delicious. Beibei, I promise, when I grow up, I’ll make sure you have rice porridge to eat every day.”

Dabao wished he could grow up faster, so he could take better care of his father and sister.

The two children waited a long time, until the porridge was cold, but nothing happened to Dabao—he didn’t faint or get poisoned.

So, the rice porridge must be safe, right?

They could eat it! What a relief!

Dabao carefully brought the porridge onto the kang. By the moonlight, the siblings took turns, one bite for you, one for me.

Even though it was cold, it was still a rare treat. They cherished every mouthful.

Dabao only took a few sips, leaving the rest for his sister and father.

Beibei, sensible beyond her years, stopped when half was left.

Dabao fed the remaining half to their father, then finally lay down, satisfied.

“Brother, the rice porridge was so good,” Beibei said, patting her little belly.

“Good girl, go to sleep. We have to get up early tomorrow to find food.”

Dabao had a lot on his mind, unlike his optimistic little sister.

Why did the stepmother give them food? And such precious rice porridge, no less.

Now that they’d been kicked out, with their father in tow, how would they survive?

Winter was coming soon. Would this drafty old house be enough to get them through the cold?

There were so many problems to solve. If only he could grow up faster—everything would get better then."