Transmigrated into a fat wife, farming, raising children, and picking up husbands

Hearing this, Hu Yidao quickly joined in the comforting words.

"Yes, yes, yes! Auntie, Xiuer is right! Hiding isn't a problem! With Brother Ping An here, most people wouldn't dare to cause trouble! I'll also help keep an eye on things! You can rest assured!"

Wang looked at her daughter's resolute eyes, then at Ping An's composed demeanor, and finally at Hu Yidao's sincere, chubby face.

Knowing that her daughter was right and that further persuasion would be useless, she could only sigh deeply, and tears fell again—tears of helplessness.

Lin Xiuer knew her mother was still worried, so she wanted to quickly change the subject and distract her.

Her gaze fell on the kitchen counter, where, besides pork belly and large bones, there seemed to be quite a lot of offal.

A thought struck her, and she rolled up her sleeves, smiling at Hu Yidao, "Old Hu, now that you're here, don't be in such a hurry to leave."

"I happen to have some offal you brought. I'll clean it up and braise it for you and Ping An as a snack with your drinks. Please try my cooking."

"Consider this a thank you for making this special trip today to inform my mother."

She said the last sentence somewhat jokingly.

Hu Yidao knew that Lin Xiuer was pointing at him, and he knew that he had messed up because of his loose tongue, so he chuckled apologetically.

He knew Lin Xiuer wasn't petty and didn't really mean to blame him, so he rubbed his hands together and said, "That's wonderful! Sister Lin's cooking is superb; I'm in for a treat today!"

For the past few years, he's been single, either eating whatever's convenient at food stalls or going home to a cold, empty house.

Those who are addicted to gambling not only have their relatives who don't like to associate with them, but even their neighbors like to gossip about them behind their backs.

He hadn't experienced this lively and bustling feeling of eating together in a long time.

Most importantly, he was happy to taste Lin Xiuer's skill in turning ordinary pancakes into something beautiful, and he could also chat while eating.

"Alright! I'll go get ready first." Lin Xiuer tied on her apron and went into the kitchen. Wang followed her in to help start the fire.

Lin Xiuer put the pig offal into a large wooden basin and repeatedly scrubbed it with clean water and coarse salt.

After washing, cut the pig intestines, liver, and stomach into large pieces and put them together in a large iron pot of cold water. Add a few slices of ginger and a little rice wine to remove the fishy smell.

Flames licked the bottom of the pot in the stove, and soon, grayish-brown foam rose to the surface of the water.

She carefully skimmed off the foam with a strainer. Then she took the offal out of the water, rinsed it again with warm water, and drained it for later use.

Next, she began preparing the braising liquid.

Ping An silently walked to the corner of the courtyard, picked up an axe, and began chopping firewood.

Hu Yidao couldn't get involved for the time being. He stood at the door of the main room, looking at Ping An's neat but silent back, feeling a little uneasy.

First of all, he admired the young man's skills; they were truly impressive.

But apart from talking more to Lin Xiuer, this kid always exudes a cold and distant aura towards others.

Although Lao Hu was talkative, after looking at Ping An's silent back, he thought for a moment and ultimately decided not to go up and strike up a conversation.

His gaze shifted and he saw Xiao Bao squatting under the chicken coop by the west wall.

The little guy was happily pinching two tender green wild vegetable leaves, teasing two fluffy little yellow chicks at his feet.

The chicks chirped and chased after his hand, pecking at the leaves. Little Bao loved playing with them, a smile playing on his little face.

He grinned, walked over, and squatted down next to Xiao Bao: "Little guy, playing with the chickens? Your chicks are so healthy and lively, can you let your uncle play with them too?"

Xiao Bao raised his head, looked at him with his big, dark eyes, and then at the kind smile he was trying to force on his face.

After hesitating for a moment, he nodded slightly and handed the other leaf of vegetable in his hand to Hu Yidao.

Old Hu laughed, took the vegetable leaf, and, imitating Xiao Bao, held it to the chick's beak.

The two, one big and one small, sat quietly by the chicken coop, enjoying the simple and peaceful afternoon.

Old Hu occasionally made a clumsy imitation of a rooster's crow, which made Xiao Bao giggle.

Ping An carried the freshly chopped firewood into the kitchen and placed it next to the woodpile. He glanced at Lin Xiuer, who was busy at the stove, before turning around and leaving the kitchen to walk into the yard.

In the courtyard, spices that had been picked a few days ago were spread out to dry in several large bamboo baskets.

Bright red wild chili peppers, dark brown Sichuan peppercorns, and other dried herbs and fruits with a unique aroma.

These are all the treasures Lin Xiuer uses to make her secret sauce.

Ping An sorted the spices that were almost dried and ready for storage and packed them into clean cloth bags.

They carefully cleaned the wild peppers and dill that they had just picked that day, which were still damp from the mountains and forests, and then spread them evenly in a basket and moved them under the eaves to dry.

Strings of half-dried mushrooms hung under the eaves, rustling like wind chimes in the breeze.

After tidying up the spices, Ping An picked up a half-worn wooden bucket from the corner of the wall and went to the backyard.

The old well in the backyard is quite old; the stones around its edge have been worn smooth.

He put down the wooden bucket and spun it up to a full bucket of clear, cool well water.

Carrying the water back to the kitchen, he poured it into a large water vat that was half a person's height until it was almost overflowing.

Then, he started fetching water to water the vegetables.

In the vegetable patch, tender green cabbage seedlings and radish tops swayed gently in the afternoon breeze.

He used a wooden ladle to scoop water and carefully watered the newly sprouted green seedlings. He also didn't forget to water the wild onions, mint, perilla, and dill that had been transplanted along the edge of the plot.

These were all transplanted from the mountain by Lin Xiuer. She also discovered that her spiritual spring liquid had an almost magical effect on these plants.

Before each watering, she would secretly add a few drops to the wooden bucket.

Whether it's transplanted herbs or sown vegetable seeds, the survival rate is astonishingly high, and they grow exceptionally well.

This small backyard has become her field of hope and spice storehouse for the future.

This vegetable garden was also cultivated by Lin Xiuer on the day Ping An woke up.

Now it is full of life, and being in it seems to soften the usual sense of aloofness around him.

Just then, an indescribable, enticing aroma wafted in from the direction of the kitchen in the front yard, carried by the evening breeze.

Old Hu, who was playing with his child, immediately started twitching his nose like a hunting dog.

Hu Yidao had been slaughtering pigs and selling meat for over a decade, and he had eaten pig offal for most of his life.

Boiled, stir-fried, braised, smoked—what cooking method haven't I tried?

But never before had any fragrance captured his attention so instantly as this one wafted over.

The aroma was layered and distinct. The first thing that entered the nose was the rich, savory aroma of meat, which was the base flavor created by the pork belly and pork bones simmering and blending in the pot.

Immediately afterwards, a rich and lingering aroma of soy sauce and saltiness filled the air. That was the essence that could only be created by the long-term fusion of soybean paste and various spices.

Within this savory aroma, there are also subtle hints of freshness and spiciness from wild mountain spices.