Rebirth in 1980: The Farm Wife Makes a Comeback-Chapter 9 He is a Thief

He quickly went home and carried his sister to the hearth, wrapped her up tightly in blankets, and held her small hand, rubbing it until some color returned to her face, which relaxed him.

Soup, hot soup, yes hot soup.

He dashed into the kitchen, lifted the pot lid; there was still some meat soup left. The scent made his mouth water. Gnashing his teeth, he took a bowl from the side, scooped some soup, and covered the bowl with his clothes. Just as he was running out of the kitchen, having barely taken a few steps, he encountered a quiet five or six-year-old little girl, plump and cute. The girl lifted her face and pointed at him accusingly with her small fingers.

"You're a thief, stealing our family's meat soup; I'm going to tell my mom."

Qin Xiangyang bit his dry, cracked lips, his frail body shivering in the wind as if it was about to disperse. He turned away facing constant verbal assaults from the little girl behind, the insistent calls of "shameless." He knew what that meant, and although he had heard it enough over the years and had been through a lot, it still unavoidably pained his heart.

This was his home, his home. When their mom was alive, he could enjoy meat soup, as she saved all the good food for him and his sister, even if it meant going hungry herself, allowing them to fill their stomachs. But after she passed away, and their dad remarried, he could no longer fill his stomach or stay warm.

He had promised his mother to take good care of his sister, to raise her well, and to not let anyone bully her. But he was failing; he was useless. His sister had started washing clothes, cooking, raising chickens, and feeding pigs the moment she could understand chores, while he did adult tasks in the fields. The stepmother's two children, however, could go to school and eat meat. Now with his sister sick, the stepmother even wanted to abandon her, but he had promised his mom, he would protect his sister, and he would.

He brought the bowl into his own room—though it was more of a shelter pieced together with broken planks, barely enough to shield from wind and rain. The only useful thing was the hearth, left behind from when their mom was alive. The stepmother, disdainful of such a place, took everything she could and begrudgingly left the hearth to him and his sister.

"Here, Nuannuan, have some soup; you'll feel better after some soup," he carefully brought the bowl to his sister's lips.

Qin Xiangnuan, groggy, suddenly smelled something delicious. Her hunger instincts made her open her mouth wide, gulping down the soup and then fell back into a dozy sleep.

Qin Xiangyang sighed in relief when his sister finished the soup. If she could consume, it meant she might survive.

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He then carefully placed his hand on his sister's forehead. Although it was still somewhat hot, it was much better than before.

Good, she's going to be alright.

The small boy showed a faint smile, his clothes hanging loosely on his thin frame, almost to the point where he seemed just skin and bones.

He hurried outside, intending to go back to the kitchen, but recalling the sister who scolded him, he was scared. He could only scoop some cold water from the bucket beside the well and drank it from the bowl. The water seemed to carry a hint of the meat flavor, delicious, and he had forgotten how long it had been since he last ate meat.

He scooped another bowl of cold water, but after this bowl, there was no more taste of meat soup.

Qin Xiangnuan slept fitfully, sometimes feeling as if she was in an icy land, other times as if under a scorching sun, until gradually, she started feeling comfortable. Periodically, a small, cool hand touched her forehead, soothingly cool.

"Mom, it's him, he's the one who stole our meat soup."

A shrill voice made her involuntarily frown slightly in discomfort.

With a smack, that sound was very much like the one made when her father used to slap her face—when hand met cheek, it hurt tremendously.

"You ungrateful wretch, how dare you steal the meat soup I made? Stealing needles as a child, stealing gold when you grow up, truly a rotten thing raised without a mother's teachings."

Suddenly, as if the woman had discovered something, she also let out a scream.

"Why did you bring that jinx back? Isn't our situation bad enough? Throw her out, throw her out quickly. Do you want her to die in our house?"

"Mom, sister is still alive, she really is alive."

"She's alive for what? She's going to die anyway," said the woman as she approached the bed to lift the blanket and discard the child.

Qin Xiangyang hurriedly picked up Qin Xiangnuan from the pit, holding her tightly in his arms.

"Mom, please, sister is alive, she's alive. From now on, sister and I will just eat one portion of food, is that okay? I will work hard in the fields, please," "Mom, don't throw away my sister."

He held his little sister and hid in the corner, enduring the stepmother's pinching and beating, refusing to let go no matter what.

"What are you doing? Where have all died off to?" At that moment, a roar came from outside, and the woman wiped her hands on her body, putting on a smile, "Oh, Guohua, you're back, just in time, the meat soup at home is ready, let's eat first."

"Nuannuan is sick, isn't she? Better not come in, what if you catch it? You're the pillar of our family, and you can't fall."

"Why hasn't she been thrown out yet?" Qin Guohua didn't have much affection for his daughter Qin Xiangnuan; not long after she was born, she caused the death of her own mother, and she wasn't good-looking either. The family already had one delicate and clever daughter with a sweet mouth, so this older daughter never caught his eye again.

"Dad, sister is better now, look, Dad, sister doesn't have a fever anymore, she's alive, please don't throw sister away?" Qin Xiangyang, holding Qin Xiangnuan, stood up; his body dirty with mud and his face bearing many pinch and scratch marks. Qin Xiangnuan in his arms was closing her eyes, her small face was only the size of a palm, thin and frail, very pitiful.

For a moment, Qin Guohua couldn't bear to look and cursed in annoyance.

"What bad luck," he snorted and walked toward the kitchen.

Meanwhile, stepmother Hu Li's eyes darted about; alright, not dead, that works too, now there's someone else to do the chores at home, she cherished her own daughter, how could she bear to let her do those tasks.

"Mom, my braid has come loose, it doesn't look good."

Qin Xiangmei tugged at Hu Li's sleeve, shaking her twin braids on her head and pouting.