Transmigrated into the role of the matriarch, I ensured my family had enough to eat and wear during

Old Mrs. Yang stared at the two plump hens in the yard, her brows furrowed and her face full of doubt.

She had lived for fifty years and seen many pheasants, but she had never seen a pheasant that looked exactly like a domestic chicken.

Then I thought again, if someone in the village had lost such a fat hen, they would have been making a huge fuss and searching the whole village, instead of being so quiet.

Thinking about it that way, she realized that it might really be a genuine wild pheasant, just a special breed.

Yang Xiaobao sidled up to his grandmother, looking up excitedly, and said, "Grandma, when these two hens lay lots and lots of chicks, I'll share the eggs with you! So you can eat eggs every day!"

Old Mrs. Yang chuckled at his antics, then tapped his forehead, revealing the crux of the matter: "Silly boy, a hen alone can't lay chicks. Without a rooster, the eggs won't hatch."

Upon hearing this, Tang Susu froze instantly.

She was so focused on getting the hens to lay eggs that she forgot that hatching chicks also requires a rooster for mating.

She secretly resolved that next time she went into the mountains, she would secretly bring back a rooster so that the two hens could hatch more chicks and expand her family's chicken flock.

Just then, the aroma of food wafted from the kitchen; Miao Yulan was stewing chicken and matsutake mushroom soup.

Tang Susu turned to Old Lady Yang and said, "Mother, it's getting late. Why don't you stay for dinner and try some of the freshly picked mushrooms?"

Old Mrs. Yang turned away, stubbornly saying, "No, no, I have things to do at home, I have to go back quickly."

After saying that, he turned and left like a gust of wind, his steps so fast it was as if he was afraid of being stopped.

Tang Susu shook her head, both amused and exasperated, and muttered under her breath, "This old woman is probably worried that if she eats my food, she'll feel indebted to me and I'll have to ask her for more grain."

That evening's dinner was a veritable feast for the four boys.

Miao Yulan made dumplings filled with eggs, wild vegetables, and mushrooms, and also cooked a bowl of steaming white noodle soup.

The snow-white dumplings floated in the bowl; when you took a bite, the fresh and fragrant soup burst out instantly.

The dumpling soup is rich and flavorful; drinking it warmly makes you feel comfortable all over.

The four boys ate so ravenously that they didn't even have time to talk.

It was still light after dinner, and the afterglow of the setting sun bathed the village in a warm yellow hue.

Tang Susu called out to Yang Gousheng, "Come with me to the village head's house."

Yang Gousheng immediately understood that they were going to talk about water diversion, so he nodded and followed her around like a puppy.

This is the most leisurely time in the village. The village women carry small stools and sit under the eaves of their houses, chatting about everyday matters.

The men, pipes in their mouths, gathered under the banyan tree to chat about crops and village affairs;

The children gathered together, chasing and playing, their clear laughter echoing through the village.

A gentle evening breeze, carrying a slight chill, seemed to temporarily dispel the anxieties of hunger that had plagued me for days.

But when you reach the edge of the village and see the simple coffin placed in front of Aunt Yang's courtyard, this brief moment of tranquility is shattered.

The shadow of famine loomed heavy once again, and everyone knew that if the drought continued, such a tragedy would be repeated in the village.

Tang Susu and Yang Gousheng entered the village head's courtyard and saw several thin, pale-faced children squatting on the ground sorting wild vegetables, separating the edible leaves from the inedible roots.

The village head's wife was doing needlework under the eaves. When she saw Tang Susu, a hint of surprise flashed in her eyes. She quickly put down her work and stood up: "Gousheng's mother is here? Come in and sit down. Your village head is inside."

She couldn't help but mutter, "Your village head stayed up all night hoping for rain. He's going to the fields to check the weather later."

Tang Susu recalled the sky she saw on the way, so clean it looked as if it had been wiped with a rag, without a single cloud.

She knew perfectly well that it was impossible for it to rain in this kind of weather.

The two entered the main room and saw the village head sitting at the table, flipping through an old book on astronomy.

The book was printed with many celestial patterns and corresponding texts. This was the first time Tang Susu had seen an ancient book in the half month since she had traveled through time, and a fleeting feeling inexplicably arose in her heart.

The village head frowned, pushed the book aside, and called out towards the outside, "Yang Zhimao, come here!"

Yang Zhimao quickly ran in. "Uncle Village Head, what did you need me for?"

"Look at the words in this book, what do they mean? What do they say?" the village head asked, pointing to a line of words in the book.

Yang Zhimao leaned forward, squinted at it for a long time, and said with certainty, "These are the two characters 'gao shen' (高深), pronounced 'gao shen'! The book says that when the clouds become high and deep, it will rain."

The village head looked puzzled: "Does the cloud getting higher and deeper mean it will rain? How can the cloud get higher and deeper?"

Tang Susu leaned over to take a look and her face immediately fell black.

The book clearly states that rain will only come when "the clouds become low and heavy." Yang Zhimao not only mistook "heavy" for "profound," but also completely misinterpreted the original meaning, which is truly outrageous.

The village head, however, was completely unaware of the situation and even praised Yang Zhimao with a smile: "You're so clever, you can read and write. I'm just an old, uneducated man, I've relied entirely on you to teach me. This kid is destined for great things!"

Yang Gousheng watched with envy, clicking his tongue in agreement, "Brother Zhimao is really amazing!"

Yang Zhimao was extremely pleased with the praise, like a proud little rooster.

He turned and went back into the house, got paper and pen, and wrote his name crookedly on the paper, showing off: "I can not only recognize it, but I can also write it! Look!"

Tang Susu leaned over to take a look and saw that the paper had the three characters “勿对木” written on it. It should have been “杨枝茂”, but he had written it wrong in a terrible way.

She took several deep breaths before barely suppressing the urge to step forward and correct him—now was not the time to worry about these things; getting water was the most important thing.

Tang Susu didn't delay any longer and said seriously to the village head, "Uncle Village Head, I've come today to tell you something important."

When the village head saw her serious expression, he felt a chill and immediately remembered what Tang Susu had said about lotus roots. He guessed that this matter might be even more important.

He quickly put down his book, sat up straight, and listened attentively: "Go on, I'm listening."

"I found a water source deep in the mountains," Tang Susu explained in detail. "It's in a valley between two mountains, a spring that has never been tapped before, and the underground water resources look very abundant. As long as we can bring the water down the mountain to irrigate the farmland, we won't have to worry about food this autumn."

"What?!" The village head slapped his thigh excitedly, jumped to his feet, and asked incredulously, "Dog's mother, you can't be lying! I'll believe you!"

The Yang family has lived in Yangqu Village for over a hundred years. Villagers often go up the mountain to hunt and gather wild vegetables, but no one has ever discovered a water source in the deep mountains.

His suspicions are perfectly reasonable.

Just as Tang Susu was about to explain, a panicked shout suddenly came from outside the door, growing closer and closer: "Village head! Something terrible has happened!"

A villager stumbled into the courtyard, his face deathly pale and his voice trembling: "Village head, the well... the well is completely dry! The last well under the banyan tree, the one that could be used to draw water, is completely dried up!"

Yangqu Village originally had three wells that could draw water, but two of them dried up a month ago, leaving only the well under the big banyan tree, which sustains the lives of all the villagers.

Now even the last well has run out of water, and a deafening wail suddenly rang out outside the courtyard—no food, but they could still dig up grass roots and gnaw on tree bark to make do for a few more days.

But without water, they really can't survive.

The village headman listened to the crying outside, and his face became extremely grave.

He turned around and solemnly said to Tang Susu, "Gousheng's mother, the lives and hopes of the entire village now rest on your shoulders. I hope... what you said is true."

Tang Susu nodded solemnly and said, "Uncle Village Head, since I dared to tell you this, I must be confident. However, I have a request."

The village headman, on the contrary, breathed a sigh of relief. He would have been even more anxious if Tang Susu had helped the whole village without any ulterior motives.

The fact that someone made a request suggests that the water source issue is likely true. He quickly replied, "Tell me, as long as it's for the good of the village, and as long as it's within my power, I'll definitely agree."

"After the family split up, I got fourteen mu of land," Tang Susu explained her purpose. "Six mu of it is good land, and the remaining eight mu is barren land that can't grow good crops. I don't covet the best land in the village, but I have my eye on that piece of wasteland at the foot of the mountain. Our irrigation canal will flow through there. As long as we have water for irrigation, the wasteland will eventually become fertile land."

She paused for a moment, then stated her request: "I would like to ask Uncle Village Head to reserve this wasteland for me for six or seven months. Once I have saved enough money, I will buy it. If I haven't saved enough money by then, you can sell the wasteland to someone else, how about that?"

Without a second thought, the village head readily agreed: "Why not! We'll do it your way!" He even offered to add, "We'll price the wasteland at the market rate, seven qian of silver per mu. In this year of famine, everyone's money is going to be used to buy grain; nobody wants to buy wasteland."