“Limuqun, is this the flower you bought?”
“Yeah, isn’t this a flower?”
“You use Photinia for making Flower Pastry at your place?!”
“WOC, you’re really making Flower Pastry?! Can you not harm people?”
“Get lost, get lost, you tasteless thing.”
A burst of arguing and the sounds of a scuffle, mixed with a foul stench, pulled the drowsy Luozhilan from her sleep.
Where… Where am I?
She groggily raised her head, her gaze drifting around the room.
The room couldn’t be called spacious, packed to the brim with all kinds of furniture.
The old walls were full of pits and dents, the windows covered in layer after layer of paper pulp, but it still let the wind in.
Sunlight slipped through the cracks, scattering a faint rainbow in the air.
She sat up in a daze when a wailing voice suddenly rang out:
“Zuo Qiuli, I’ve never hit a woman before, don’t test my limits, ow!”
“Ow, ow, ow, I was wrong, please don’t really hit me!”
“Don’t—don’t hit my face!”
With this wail, two figures burst into her line of sight.
A man and a woman—one in front, one behind—the man was clutching a bundle of white flowers, fleeing ahead, while the woman chased after, wielding a Rolling Pin.
The wooden Rolling Pin, originally meant for rolling dough, was brandished by the woman like a weapon, landing each strike squarely on the man’s sore spots and drawing heart-rending screams from him.
“That’s what you get for buying Photinia! That’s what you get for buying Photinia!”
The woman muttered as she swung the Rolling Pin even harder.
“Enough!”
The man finally lost his patience, tossing the flowers to the floor.
With one hand he grabbed the descending Rolling Pin, and with the other, he pinned the woman against the wall.
“If a tiger doesn’t bare its fangs, do you really think I’m a sick cat?!”
“Zuo Qiuli, this isn’t the Real World! If you push me, I’ll just take you by force—believe it or not?”
“Heh.” The woman gave a bewitching smile, deliberately tugging her apron down a little, revealing a dazzling expanse of pale skin.
“Don’t just talk, Limuqun, I’ll give you a chance—do you dare?”
Leaning against the wall, she crooked her finger at the man, her seductive pose almost able to steal a person’s soul.
The man gulped, lowering his voice in warning:
“Zuo Qiuli, you’re playing with fire!”
His voice was thick, tinged with barely restrained desire.
“Then let me burn myself up.”
The woman seemed unfazed by his warning, her slender fingers trailing lazy circles across the man’s chest.
“You, you—!”
The man wanted to say more, but the woman pressed herself closer, her full curves flattening against his firm chest.
“You’re too much, Zuo Qiuli!”
“Heehee.”
The man looked as if he was on the verge of losing control, ready to launch into battle right then and there.
With a loud “thud—”
A dull sound interrupted the man’s attempt to undo his belt.
Both of them turned to see the source of the noise.
It was young Luozhilan, who had fallen off the bed from watching too intently. Rubbing her head, she stuck out her pink tongue, embarrassed.
“Why don’t you two go on? Pretend I’m not even here?”
“Ah!!!”
Limuqun wailed, feeling his face burn as he ran out of the room in humiliation.
“Don’t forget to buy flowers—buy Roses!”
Zuo Qiuli’s voice floated out after him. She fixed her clothes, spat in the direction Limuqun had disappeared, and muttered,
“In the end, he’s just all bark and no bite.”
With that, she walked cheerfully over to the young Luozhilan, leaned down and helped her up, saying,
“Good girl, you’re awake.”
“Sit tight for a bit, I saved some food for you.”
Young Luozhilan had been looking forward to watching a rather improper scene, but her own accident had cut it short, leaving her disappointed.
“Oh…”
She answered and obediently sat down on the chair, watching Zuo Qiuli bustle around the stove.
Sunlight shone across her apron, casting a unique kind of glow.
It was a color Luozhilan had never seen before, so different from the suffocating urgency she’d always felt from her sister.
This was gentle and tolerant, as if it could forgive any mistake you made.
Maybe this was what people called Mother’s Glory?
Luozhilan swung her little legs, her thoughts drifting far away.
She hadn’t daydreamed for long before a pair of chopsticks and bowls were placed on the table.
The dishes were simple: a fresh River Fish, a bowl of crisp pickled vegetables, and a bowl of thick, sticky porridge.
Luozhilan picked up her chopsticks. It had been ages since she’d eaten mortal food, and her skills were terribly rusty.
She tried several times but couldn’t manage to pick up anything.
Just as she pouted, ready to timidly admit defeat to Zuo Qiuli, the other woman gently took her hand and began to teach her, step by step.
“A little further forward, don’t grip the end of the chopsticks. Don’t use so much force—gentle, gentle.”
“That’s it, just like that.”
At last, with Zuo Qiuli’s help, young Luozhilan took her first bite of fish.
She tasted it carefully, chewing slowly, and felt a warmth spreading through her heart.
But in the next second, her delicate face froze.
So salty…
So very salty…
I’m about to die of saltiness!
She fought the urge to spit it out, struggling hard to swallow the fish.
Water, give me water, I need water!
Her throat felt parched and scratchy. She searched the table with her eyes, finally settling on the bowl of porridge.
Right, I can drink the porridge.
She hurriedly picked up the bowl and gulped down a big mouthful.
Wait? No—something’s wrong!
What’s with this porridge? Sob, sob, how…
Instead of sliding smoothly down her throat as she’d imagined, the porridge clung there like thick glue, refusing to budge.
“How is it, good girl?”
Luozhilan’s face turned red from choking, but Zuo Qiuli saw only excitement from tasting something delicious.
She gave Luozhilan a hearty pat on the back, and at last, Luozhilan managed to swallow.
“Cough, cough, cough!”
Fresh air filled her lungs as she coughed uncontrollably.
“Drink slower, drink slower. If it’s not enough, there’s more in the pot. You really have taste; that idiot Limuqun said he couldn’t drink it at all.”
Zuo Qiuli gently supported her back, speaking the kindest words in the most terrifying way.
“I… I’m full now.”
She shakily pushed the bowl aside, forcing a strained smile.
“Eh? That’s all you ate?”
Zuo Qiuli looked at the barely-touched bowl and the dishes, frowning.
“That won’t do.”
“Eh? Wh-what won’t do?”
“You can’t be picky about food.”
Seeing Zuo Qiuli advancing with the bowl, young Luozhilan almost tumbled out of her chair in panic.
“B-but I really am full…”
With a gentle smile, Zuo Qiuli scooped up a huge spoonful of porridge and brought it to Luozhilan’s mouth.
“Don’t say you’re full!”
“Come on, let Mama feed you herself.”
“No, I don’t—sob sob—” Before Luozhilan could finish, her mouth was stuffed with porridge.
Barely avoiding choking, she finally managed to swallow the gelatinous porridge. Just as she gasped for breath and looked up, she saw Zuo Qiuli approaching with another spoonful.
Sister, Sister, save me!
At this moment, there was no sign of any Mother’s Glory.
She’s a devil, an absolute devil!
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