Adrian Hawthorne was clueless about this sort of thing, and he had no desire to learn anyway. He was certain he wouldn’t be on Millstone Peak for the rest of his life, and he sure wasn’t going to be a farmer forever, so there was no point wasting time learning how.

"Have your grandpa eat at my place tomorrow. He can have a few drinks with Grandpa Tate. You two come and eat too. I’ll go buy a pig’s head," Adrian Hawthorne said.

He’d gotten to know plenty of people who sold mountain goods lately and was on good terms with them. One of them, a man from the mountains, said he could get him a pig’s head. The price wasn’t steep either—only three yuan for a whole one, ears and tongue still attached. It was a real bargain.

"I want the pig’s ears!" Tang Xiao’nan clamored, her mouth starting to water again.

Although her father, Felix Thorne, was a butcher, he never brought pig heads home. He preferred offal and regular cuts of meat, and a pig’s head was too much trouble to prepare, so he never bothered with them. But pig’s head meat was Tang Xiao’nan’s absolute favorite food. Braised in a big pot until it was incredibly fragrant, then sliced onto a platter to be served with drinks... ’Ah, it was a pleasure fit for the gods!’

"You’ll get the ears and the snout. But for today, we’re eating venison."

Adrian Hawthorne pinched Tang Xiao’nan’s cheek, finally satisfied. He hadn’t pinched the chubby girl in days, and his fingers had been itching to.

For the sake of the promised pig’s head meat, Tang Xiao’nan managed not to get angry. ’Fine, pinch away,’ she thought. ’It just proves how lovable I am.’

Rosalind Green brought out the food—a large bowl of braised venison and two smaller bowls of stir-fried greens. The meal was simple, but the portions were substantial. Without waiting for an invitation, Jim Thorne went to the kitchen to get the rice himself. It was pure white rice in the pot, not bulked up with any sweet potatoes. Their quality of life had clearly skyrocketed. Jim shamelessly served himself a heaping bowl, then gave Tang Xiao’nan a small one.

"Eat less rice and more of the other dishes. Make sure you finish everything," Rosalind Green said with a smile.

She herself only took a small bowl of rice. Now that their meals were richer, she had returned to her habit of eating only until she was seventy percent full. It was a habit she’d had since childhood; no matter how delicious the food, she would only eat until she was partially full and would never overindulge.

Jim Thorne let his actions speak for him, immediately picking up a large piece of meat and digging in. If you had to say what Rosalind Green had improved at most recently, it was definitely her cooking. Adrian Hawthorne had bought plenty of seasonings, giving Rosalind more room to be creative, so naturally, the flavors were even better.

"Delicious."

Jim Thorne finished a piece of meat in just two or three bites and immediately grabbed another. Rosalind Green and Old Master Tate, however, chewed slowly and deliberately, eating in a very refined manner. In terms of eating habits, the two of them were quite similar: they both had a sweet tooth and only ate until they were seventy percent full.

Tang Xiao’nan also stopped eating after two pieces of meat. The venison was a bit like beef—lean, with little fat—but it had a gamey taste. Wild animals always have a certain gaminess, no matter how well they’re cleaned and prepared.

"Done eating?"

Adrian Hawthorne looked at Tang Xiao’nan and suddenly noticed that the chubby girl’s chin had actually gotten a bit pointier. It wasn’t as round as before; her triple chin had become a double chin. She had visibly lost weight. He couldn’t help but frown.

’Little Fatty can’t be sick, can she?’ he thought. ’She’s eating so little. Maybe she’s having stomach issues?’

"I’m full."

Tang Xiao’nan gave her rice, which she had barely touched, to Jim Thorne. Her third brother wouldn’t mind, after all. She really was full. ’Those two big pieces of meat are enough,’ she told herself. ’I have to eat less in the evening, or I’ll just stretch my stomach. Then I’ll never be able to escape my fate of being a dumb, clumsy, fat girl.’

Adrian Hawthorne’s brow furrowed even more. He reached out and felt Tang Xiao’nan’s forehead. Her temperature was normal, and she seemed to be in good spirits. ’She’s probably not sick,’ he concluded. ’Maybe Mom’s cooking just isn’t very good.’

"Stop stuffing your face for a second. How can you keep eating when your sister has barely touched her food?"

Adrian Hawthorne forcefully poked Jim Thorne, who was in the middle of wolfing down meat. ’This guy is completely clueless.’

"Xiao’nan always eats this little. She’ll have a cup of malted milk tonight, and that’ll be enough for her."

Jim Thorne was unconcerned. He was used to it, so he just went back to eating his meat.