Chapter 12: Chapter 12: One Call of ""Mom,"" a Lifetime of Responsibility

“Mom, I weighed the grain with you. It was exactly three hundred jin, not a single jin more. Can you please stop making a fuss? Just go home, okay?” Xu Huaizhi pleaded helplessly.

“Eldest, I’m not lying! There really are a few hundred jin of grain missing from home, and it was just today!” Liu Guifang anxiously hoped her son would believe her.

But Xu Huaizhi thought she just couldn’t bear to part with the grain and was making trouble on purpose.

Gu Qinghuan had just finished comforting the little girl. She stood up, her face cold, and said, “Big brother, is this what you call love? If I hadn’t gone to ask Mom for grain today, would you all really have just watched us starve to death?”

“Even now, Mom’s still trying to find ways to take the grain back. You really don’t want to give us a way to survive, do you?”

She knew very well that arguing with the old woman was pointless. The real decision-maker was right there—why not use that?

Sure enough, Xu Huaizhi’s face flushed red with embarrassment, and he awkwardly scratched his foot, feeling thoroughly slapped in the face.

He’d just been telling her how their parents loved Huaian and hoped she could understand their difficulties, but then his mother came and completely undermined him, not even sparing a child.

“What are you two whispering about? Gu Qinghuan, hand over my grain right now!” Liu Guifang was so angry she wanted to rush over and start a fight.

Xu Huaizhi had no choice but to drag his mother away, not even bothering with his bicycle.

“Sister-in-law, you take care of things here.”

The two of them left, bickering as they went.

Gu Qinghuan moved the grain from Xu Huaizhi’s bike onto the one she’d borrowed, directing the two kids to help move their things.

All the original owner had was a big bundle: an old quilt, some daily necessities, and worn-out clothes. It all fit on the crossbar of the bike and could be taken in one trip.

The three of them—father and sons—were basically kicked out of the house. Other than the clothes on their backs and a small bundle, they had nothing else. It was a sorry sight.

The two kids carried the “snacks” they’d gathered from the mountain that day, along with their simple belongings, trying hard to help push the bike.

Gu Qinghuan pretended to pull something from her pocket, but actually took out a few White Rabbit milk candies from her space. She’d found them in her villa’s storeroom—leftover from when she’d sold White Rabbit products, and the manufacturer had sent her several big boxes.

The kids clearly knew what they were and looked at her in surprise and delight.

Beibei was the first to speak. “Mom, are these for us?”

Gu Qinghuan hadn’t expected the little girl to call her “Mom” so naturally. She wasn’t quite used to it. One call of “Mom” meant a lifetime of responsibility.

She nodded awkwardly, signaling for her to take them.

A huge wave of joy swept over the little girl. Her eyes sparkled as she looked at Gu Qinghuan, full of childlike adoration.

It wasn’t just because of the candy, but also because Gu Qinghuan hadn’t refused to let her call her “Mom.”

Children are the most sensitive. Even though Gu Qinghuan hadn’t said anything directly, and they’d only had a few proper conversations before, her actions clearly showed her attitude. She was a genuinely good person. Beibei truly wanted to keep this mom.

Most kids in the village had at least tasted fruit or milk candy, but she and her brother had never gotten any special treats, not even during holidays. They could only watch others with envy.

Now, someone was finally giving them candy.

Beibei gently took two White Rabbits from her hand, put one in her brother’s palm, then unwrapped her own and took a careful lick. Her face instantly bloomed with a smile.

It was sweet! Sweeter and more fragrant than any wild fruit.

“Brother, it’s so sweet! You have to try it. Mom, you have some too.” Beibei held her candy up to Gu Qinghuan, offering her a taste.

Dabao looked at his little “traitor” of a sister and shook his head helplessly. All his usual teachings were for nothing—two pieces of candy and she’d switched sides.

He didn’t want to call her “Mom”—at least not yet.

Gu Qinghuan shook her head and stuffed the rest of the candies into Beibei’s hand. “I don’t like sweets. You two keep them and eat them slowly.”

She could tell the older one still had things weighing on his mind. It would take time—actions speak louder than words.

“What are your names?” she asked.

“Mom, I’m Beibei, and my brother is Dabao.”

...

The three of them walked slowly, chatting and laughing as they moved their things into the new home.

By the time they arrived, their relationship had already deepened a lot.

Because of the meals she’d given them before, and how she’d stood up for them just now, the two kids naturally accepted her as one of their own. They answered any question she asked, very well-behaved.

It was now sunset. After a busy afternoon, their stomachs were rumbling.

Suddenly, Beibei remembered something. She pulled a handful of sweet berries from her pocket and carefully offered them to Gu Qinghuan.

“Mom, my brother and I found these sweet berries on the mountain this morning. They’re for you.”

Seeing how much she treasured them, Gu Qinghuan quickly took the red berries with both hands. Looking closely, she recognized them as a kind of wild berry she’d eaten as a child—quite sweet.

“You’re really willing to give them to me?”

She’d only meant to tease the child, but didn’t expect such a heartbreaking answer.

Beibei’s eyes filled with tears. “I am. From now on, whenever I pick sweet berries, I’ll give them all to you. Will you please not leave?”

“My brother and I will grow up soon. We can eat less, and we’ll work hard too. Is that okay?”

The children had suffered so much that even a little warmth made them anxious and afraid of losing it.

Dabao turned his face away, feeling upset after hearing his sister’s words.

Gu Qinghuan pulled Beibei into her arms and gently comforted her.

These two kids were so mature and sensitive—pitiful and lovable at the same time.

She finally sighed softly. “I won’t leave. At least until you two can live independently, I’ll take care of you.”

“You don’t need to eat less. In fact, you should eat more so you can grow up quickly.”

Beibei looked at her in surprise, wiping away her tears. “Really?”

“Truer than pearls! Come on, let’s try your sweet berries.”

The three of them shared the berries, feeling even closer.

But berries alone weren’t enough. Gu Qinghuan pretended to take a few pieces of egg cake from her luggage and shared them with the kids to fill their stomachs.

It was the first time the children had tasted such soft, fragrant cake—they nearly swallowed their tongues, savoring every bite.

Dabao didn’t forget to save a piece for his father.

After eating, the kids curiously looked around their new home.

It actually seemed pretty nice. Was this where they’d be living from now on?

Gu Qinghuan drew half a bucket of water from the well in the yard and brought it inside. She tore an old washcloth in half and gave each child a piece.

“Dabao, you take Beibei and wipe down all the places you can reach in the house. I’m going to return the bike. If you do a good job, we’ll have roast chicken for dinner. Can you do it?”

Kids this age could start doing some chores. For them, this wasn’t hard at all.

From what Gu Qinghuan had observed, Dabao had been taking care of his bedridden father for a long time—feeding, cleaning, everything. He was a responsible kid.

Gu Qinghuan never planned to raise them to be pampered freeloaders. Everyone had to pitch in with what they could.

“We can do it, Mom! Go ahead, my brother and I will clean everything up!” Beibei patted her chest and promised earnestly.

“I’ll clean up well too,” Dabao quickly added.

Gu Qinghuan nodded. She still had a lot to do, so she’d have to rely on them for now.

“Bolt the door from the inside. Don’t open it for anyone unless I call. Just in case that old witch comes to make trouble again.”

After giving her instructions, Gu Qinghuan rode off.

With daylight left, she wanted to visit her grandfather in the neighboring village’s cowshed.

She wasn’t sure if he was managing on his own these days.

The two villages were close—twenty minutes on foot, just a few minutes by bike.

As she neared the cowshed, she found a secluded spot and took a bag of supplies from her space: a bundle of noodles, three jin of rice, leftover chicken soup from lunch, two big apples, and a can of fish.

Everything except the canned fish came from her villa. The canned fish was bought from a vending machine, so it wouldn’t arouse suspicion.

She’d also roasted a chicken in the villa’s oven—she’d promised the kids, and she couldn’t break her word.

When she got to the cowshed, her grandfather wasn’t there—he must still be working in the fields.

Gu Qinghuan quickly went back into her space and made a bowl of chicken noodle soup, putting it into a thermos.

Following the original owner’s memories, she found the field where he worked. Sure enough, she saw the old man still laboring away, his thin back bent—a heartbreaking sight.

Gu Qinghuan felt a pang in her heart—partly the original owner’s emotions, partly memories of her own grandparents.

“Grandpa.” She handed him the thermos and took the hoe from his hand.

“Eat something and take a break. I’ll dig for a while.”

“Girl, you’re here again?” Zhong Weiqian tried to steady his trembling right hand, not wanting his granddaughter to see his weakness.

After a whole day in the fields, his hand was numb and shaking uncontrollably.

“Do you have to finish this whole plot today?” Gu Qinghuan asked instead of answering.

“Yes. You should head back soon—it’ll be dark, and it’s not safe for a girl to walk alone at night.” Zhong Weiqian struggled to open the thermos, immediately catching the rich aroma of chicken soup.

“Is this chicken soup?”

“Mm. I went to the hospital to see Mom at noon, and there was some chicken soup left. I made you some chicken noodle soup—eat it while it’s hot, or it won’t taste good.” Gu Qinghuan explained as she dug.

“Then I’ll count myself lucky to have such a daughter and granddaughter. Girl, it smells wonderful.”

Zhong Weiqian tried to find joy in hardship. Who would have thought that even a bowl of chicken soup would become a luxury?

Hearing his words, a tear slipped from the corner of Gu Qinghuan’s eye. He should have been enjoying his old age—how did it come to this?

Behind her, she heard the old man slurping noodles quickly.

Gu Qinghuan kept digging, but this work was truly backbreaking. Each swing of the hoe left her hands numb—at this rate, they’d never finish.

Besides the fieldwork, there were still animals in the cowshed to care for.

This couldn’t go on. The whole family would be dragged down.

She had to come up with a plan."

"Chapter 13: Giving Gifts, Returning the Bicycle to the Educated Youth Compound