The chive dumplings are wrapped up, and the aroma of Uncle's fish soup wafts through the small courtyard. The two children are playing in the yard: seven-year-old Shi Tou squats by the chicken coop, watching the hen lay an egg, while Xiao Xing looks up at the snow-like pear blossoms covering the tree.
Auntie carries the dumplings into the kitchen. Ling Chengyan, quick with her hands and feet, tidies up. Wang Liansheng, just driven away by Auntie, quickly walks over and stops his wife, carrying the heavy wooden plank into the house himself.
Endurance races with weights — she can carry forty kilograms of weapons and supplies over tens of kilometers. But at this moment, the feeling of being cared for and loved makes Ling Chengyan's heart warm, and her mouth and eyes curve up.
Just then, a timid voice comes from the wide gate: "Xiao Xing?"
Xiao Xing turns to look, and Ling Chengyan's gaze reaches first. At the gate stands a thin woman with dry yellow skin and short hair.
