IBO -Chapter 174 Song Yiran’s Background

This novel contains sensitive and taboo content like R*pe, Mu**er etc. Read only if you are comfortable.

To steam dumplings, you first boil a large pot of water. Once it bubbles, place the steamer basket with the dumplings on top, cover, and it’s done—very simple!

As time passed, the aroma of the dumplings wafted from the steamer, gradually filling the entire kitchen.

Song Buli twitched his nose, inhaling deeply. “Smells so good!”

Hehe—soon they’d get to eat the dumplings they had made themselves! How exciting!

But reality had its way.

When the dumplings were brought to the table, the children were dumbfounded.

What happened? Where were their dumplings? They had all fallen apart into separate wrappers and filling!

Only the dumplings made by Song Yiran and Song Yutu remained intact.

Little Middle Two’s pancakes and balls hadn’t fallen apart either and looked fine.

But none of the children’s dumplings survived—they had all “died.”

Song Yiran had actually anticipated this; most first-timers experience this. He himself had the same problem when he first made dumplings as a child.

Seeing the disappointed little faces, Song Yiran cleared his throat to comfort them:

“My dear little ones, many things aren’t accomplished in one go, but that doesn’t mean your efforts failed. At least the dough is cooked, and the flavor is about the same.

I believe next time you’ll make even better dumplings!

So don’t be sad—let’s eat dumplings together!”

The children’s gloom vanished. They tossed aside their earlier frustrations and focused on eating the “dumplings” in their bowls.

Even though their wrappers and filling were separate, the taste was still the same—let’s just pretend it’s a dumpling!

Little Middle Two eagerly stuffed his pancake into his mouth, cheeks bulging as he chewed.

His eyes lit up as he praised, “Song Yiran, your filling tastes amazing!”

Everyone in the kitchen, including Song Xiaolv, was eating dumplings.

Song Xiaolv’s bowl was placed near the table leg, holding three cooled dumplings.

These three special dumplings were prepared by Song Yiran with special filling, without any seasoning.

He had checked many recipes suitable for Duoduo Card Beasts. They preferred natural flavors and shouldn’t have too many human seasonings, as it could harm their health.

So Song Yiran made three special dumplings just for Song Xiaolv.

Although Song Xiaolv really looked like a green-haired cockroach, Song Yiran was still a little afraid—but Song Xiaolv was their pet and part of the family.

A family should be together, so Song Xiaolv also had to have dumplings!

They had officially adopted Song Xiaolv the second day after returning from camping.

Song Xiaolv had its own little nest at home, a dedicated bowl and water dish, and a collar with its name engraved.

Song Xiaolv seemed to really like dumplings, happily munching with its long antennae spinning joyfully in the air.

Afternoon, Little Middle Two’s room.

Song Yiran temporarily used this room, setting up his parents’ memorial tablet on the desk with fresh fruits and braised food for offerings.

He didn’t use his own room for worship because he was still living with Song Yuan and Song Yuetao, two little ones who might come back at any time.

After all, Song Yuan and Song Yuetao were still too young; they’d have to wait until they were six months old before moving to separate rooms.

Infants and young children are best off sharing a room with adults, because they may experience various emergencies while sleeping at night—choking, suffocation, or accidentally falling off the bed.

If adults aren’t nearby, the infant might miss the critical window for rescue.

Song Yiran didn’t dare gamble on such low-probability events.

Xiao Zhong’er was staring absentmindedly at the fruits and marinated snacks on the table when he suddenly thought of a question: “Song Yiran, after we finish the offerings, can we eat these?”

“Of course,” Song Yiran replied, kneeling before the table, bowing sincerely to his parents’ ancestral tablets. “Mom, Dad, today is Qingming Festival. Your unfilial son Song Yiran has offered you fruits and marinated treats. If you like them, you can send me a dream, and next time I’ll bring you even more.

Mom, Dad, since I can’t go to your graves to pay my respects in person, I can only make offerings here at your tablets. I hope you won’t blame me.

Your unfilial son Song Yiran is doing well now. Mom, Dad, don’t worry about me—I have many, many family members now and am happy every day!

Mom, Dad, I hope you’re happy over there too! If anything is missing, just send me a dream, and I’ll burn it for you.”

After this earnest self-reflection at the ancestral tablets, Song Yiran took out a stainless steel basin he had prepared in advance and a large stack of yellow joss paper.

Xiao Zhong’er generously provided a lighter.

Kneeling before the table, Song Yiran lit the joss paper with the lighter and threw it into the basin.

While burning the paper, he murmured: “Mom, Dad, your unfilial son Song Yiran is burning paper money for you. If it’s not enough, remember to tell me in a dream and I’ll burn more.”

After the joss paper was gone, he took out several paper “light brains”: “Mom, Dad, your unfilial son Song Yiran is now in the interstellar era. Phones aren’t popular here anymore; everyone uses light brains. I’ve burned a few for you too!”

He then added paper models of interstellar-era items, such as nutrient fluids, starships, and space cruisers.

“Mom, Dad, these are special products from the interstellar era. I’ve burned some for you so you can enjoy something new.” Song Yiran threw everything into the stainless steel basin at once, the flames consuming all of it, turning it to ashes along with Song Yiran’s tears.

After finishing, he suddenly felt a sense of emptiness.

Xiao Zhong’er’s voice dragged him back to reality: “Song Yiran, can we eat the offerings now?”

Song Yiran smiled, stood up, and took the food off the table, handing the fruits and marinated snacks to Xiao Zhong’er: “Yes, go ahead.”

Xiao Zhong’er tilted his head: “Aren’t you going to eat?”

Song Yiran waved at the tablets: “I won’t. I don’t have much appetite. You eat.”

“Alright then.” Xiao Zhong’er popped a piece of fruit into his mouth, cheeks puffed, “But Song Yiran, why did you call yourself an ‘unfilial son’ just now? I think you’re very filial—it doesn’t seem unfilial at all.”

Song Yiran scratched the back of his head: “It’s just a fixed way of speaking. In my hometown, when burning joss paper, people always refer to themselves as unfilial sons or daughters. It doesn’t actually mean we’re unfilial.”

Xiao Zhong’er paused, chewing the fruit, looking puzzled: “Huh? But wouldn’t your ancestors be sad to hear that?”

Song Yiran was stumped. He had never thought about it that way.

Xiao Zhong’er gave an example: “Think about it. You’re honoring your mom and dad, but calling yourself an unfilial son—wouldn’t that make them sad? They wouldn’t want you to call yourself that. They’d see you as a very filial child.

If your parents said they were unfit parents, you’d feel sad too, right? You’d probably want to argue with them.”

Song Yiran thought about it. If his parents had called themselves unfit in front of him, he would definitely argue!

He considered his parents the best in the world—no one could argue otherwise, not even them.

So Song Yiran began the offering again, simplifying the process and mainly correcting the self-reference.

Returning the tablets to the table, he knelt and sincerely bowed: “Mom, Dad, your son Song Yiran corrects his earlier slip. Your son is not an unfilial son. I hope you won’t be angry with me.

Mom, Dad, your son Song Yiran wishes you all the best over there! If you need anything, you can send me a dream.

Your son Song Yiran is deeply grateful for your upbringing. I will always remember this kindness in my heart!”

After finishing, he stood and put away the tablets.

Xiao Zhong’er sat at the bed, happily eating the fruits and marinated snacks: “I thought you’d thank your parents for giving birth to you. I’ve seen that in TV shows.”

But Song Yiran only thanked them for raising him.

Scratching his head, Song Yiran said: “Huh? Didn’t I tell you? I was adopted by my parents.”

Xiao Zhong’er nearly choked on his food, patting his chest: “What? Cough! Cough! Cough!”

Song Yiran quickly helped him sit upright, ready to perform the Heimlich maneuver.

Just as he was about to, Xiao Zhong’er finally coughed out the food lodged in his airway.

Gripping Song Yiran’s sleeve, he exclaimed: “Wait, what did you say? You were adopted? When did you tell me this? You never told me!”

“I thought I had…” Song Yiran looked guilty, averting his eyes. “Think about it—my adoptive father has congenital heart disease. Anyone responsible wouldn’t have kids, right? What if the disease was hereditary?

He kept it a secret well, so I thought I was his biological child for a long time.

One day, I found the adoption papers at home. That’s when he told me the truth.

I was originally a child in an orphanage, later adopted by my parents.

Though not their biological child, my love for them is no less! I’m grateful they raised me and loved me for so many years.

Family love has nothing to do with blood. Like my parents and me, we love each other regardless of genetics. It’s just family love.”