LAVW – Chapter 93 Brown Sugar Steamed Buns

Shi Qian felt like a cat chasing after a dangling dried fish in front of it—curiosity burning inside him.

The little yellow calf stepped forward and lightly rubbed against the old lady’s leg.

“Moo, moo.”

Who on earth was this “Brother Qiao”?

Zhang Peiyue stood up. “Qian Niuhua, don’t make trouble. Time to cook.”

The old woman’s withered hand patted the calf’s head, then she propped up her cane and headed into the kitchen.

Shi Qian followed along, wanting to help, but he couldn’t really do much.

His hooves weren’t nimble enough—one careless swipe, and he actually knocked out the fire in the stove. Shi Qian’s eyes went wide in disbelief.

“Moo?”

That’s it? It’s out already?

The sight amused Zhang Peiyue so much that her sadness was forgotten for a moment. She smiled faintly. “Don’t worry yourself. It’s just a meal, I can handle it.”

“Moo…”

Shi Qian stood dejectedly by the stove.

The kitchen used firewood, and there was even more ash around the hearth. Shi Qian didn’t dare lie down.

He couldn’t accept it—how could he fail even at such a simple task as keeping a fire going?

If he were in human form, he would have been exposed in minutes.

When Shi Qian fell silent, the kitchen was filled only with the soft crackling of the flames, unusually quiet.

He leaned his head close to the old lady and couldn’t help but ask, “Moo, moo?”

Grandma, what are you thinking about right now?

Zhang Peiyue assumed the calf was still nosy about gossip and answered, “Brother Qiao was an older boy from my childhood. Very capable.”

Shi Qian: !

“Moo, moo.”

And then?

Zhang Peiyue tilted her head, as if the calf’s head was resting on her shoulder—though there was no weight at all.

She raised her hand and gently stroked the little yellow calf’s head again. “I learned a lot from someone so capable. But beyond that, there’s nothing more.”

Shi Qian thought: Clearly, this was an important person.

But in her mouth, it was as if he didn’t matter at all.

The calf let out a confused sound, and then heard the old lady’s quiet response: “He left home at eighteen, but after leaving, he never came back.”

“I was only fourteen or fifteen then, short and scrawny, not yet grown. He treated me like a little neighbor sister, offering kind words when we crossed paths.”

Zhang Peiyue lowered her gaze, calm on the surface but with a faint sorrow underneath, her eyes unfocused, resting on the burnt ashes in the hearth.

Firewood burns into charcoal, charcoal turns into ash—utterly consumed, giving all of itself away.

Who would remember what that wood looked like when it grew on the tree? Was it a twisted, crooked tree, or a straight pine?

“Moo, moo.”

He must have been a good person.

Shi Qian generously handed out a “good person” card.

Zhang Peiyue said no more, simply finished her meal.

Shi Qian noticed there wasn’t a portion for Chen Niu.

Could it be that Chen Niu wasn’t coming back tonight? Impossible. These days there weren’t many places to stay outside. Even the guesthouse required an introduction letter.

Then he saw the old lady tidying the bowls and chopsticks. She lit a lamp, took out a small bag of flour, and began mixing it with brown sugar to make steamed buns.

Shi Qian felt envious. “Moo, moo.”

Grandma, you’re so good to Chen Niu.

Zhang Peiyue glanced at the calf. “Making brown sugar steamed buns. When they’re ready, I’ll give you one too.”

Shi Qian eyed the small bag of flour, almost all of it poured out—it looked like she could only make a few buns.

Would it even be enough for Chen Niu? And she was planning to share with him too?

The pressure weighed on Shi Qian. Suddenly he remembered—he was a rich cow! His big eyes blinked, and he stepped out of the kitchen.

When he returned, he was holding a golden bowl in his mouth, a little dusty.

Zhang Peiyue was stunned.

The little yellow calf set the golden bowl on the table with a “thunk,” then proudly called out:

“Moo, moo~”

I’m rich!

“Where did you get this?” Zhang Peiyue felt as though she had been transported back to that night when she first realized something was strange about this calf—shock came in waves.

Shi Qian responded vaguely, “Moo, moo.”

No need to ask too closely about this.

That was the good thing about not being understood—he could say what he wanted, and brush off what he didn’t want to explain.

After all… he was just a little amnesiac calf.

Zhang Peiyue frowned. “Where exactly? Take Grandma to see.”

If the calf could run out and back so quickly, then the golden bowl couldn’t be far.

She stood up, ready to head outside.

Shi Qian hurriedly tugged at her. “Moo, moo.”

Don’t go out, Grandma!

There was no golden bowl outside—all these treasures were his own belongings.

But seeing Zhang Peiyue’s puzzled frown, Shi Qian stomped his front hooves anxiously.

Sure enough, Zhang Peiyue guessed, “It’s in this courtyard, isn’t it? We just can’t see it, can’t find it, right?”

Facing his grandmother’s smooth logic, Shi Qian gave a big nod. “Moo moo.”

That’s right, that’s right.

Zhang Peiyue turned back, picked up the golden bowl, and examined it.

She could recognize it: “It really is made of gold, and quite pure too.”

It only had a bit of dust on it, and didn’t look like something freshly dug from the ground. Zhang Peiyue had no idea how it came to be, but since the appearance of the little yellow cow itself was already miraculous, like heaven’s favor, she didn’t think further about it.

“Grandma will keep this safe for you. It’s just that right now we can’t use it outside, so you’ll have to bear with it a little.”

Shi Qian shook his head. “Moo moo.”

Not hard at all.

The family already had to ration food tightly, and even so, the old lady still fed him sweet potatoes every day as snacks—she was already the best grandmother.

He had drunk brown sugar water, and soon he’d be eating brown sugar buns. What more could he want?

The little yellow cow happily went up and nuzzled Zhang Peiyue.

So Zhang Peiyue boiled two more big sweet potatoes for her grandson, and when the brown sugar buns came out of the pot, she gave the little cow one extra.

Zhang Peiyue herself only tasted one—the smallest one she had made on purpose.

She explained, “I’ve already eaten, I’m not hungry.”

Shi Qian felt this was just an adult’s trick. How could the person who cooked not know what food had been made?

On the way back from the county public security bureau.

Two ox carts traveled one after the other. Xu Youguang sat on the front cart, with Xu Aigang driving.

Xu Aigang was bewildered. How could letting the Qian Niuhua (the cow) out for some air end up exposing the criminals? Amazing.

He couldn’t figure it out, but since his father was in charge, there was no need to think too much. He’d understand later anyway.

When they met an uphill, everyone got down from the carts.

Xu Youguang slowed his steps, walking over to Chen Niu.

“What’s wrong? Still not clear-headed?” Xu Youguang asked with concern.

Just now at the bureau, the scene had been chaotic—like a stage play.

Chen Erjun had clung to Chen Niu’s arm, bawling and howling; another one was making trouble on the other side. But once the seasoned policemen took charge, the interrogation quickly revealed what had really happened.

The one who had stolen the grain back then, which led to the death of Chen Niu’s mother, turned out to be Xiang Hongjia—his very own younger brother.

Holding the rope tied to the cow, Chen Niu’s face was blank, as if he were sleepwalking.

He heard the voice, turned to look at Xu Youguang, and only after the man repeated the question did he answer, “Uncle, I’m fine.”

“What if you’re not fine? People aren’t allowed to have problems?” Xu Youguang snatched the rope from his hand. “If you go back like this, won’t Aunt Chen just worry again? Let your uncle say a couple words, alright?”

After they came down the slope, Xu Youguang took over driving the cart and told Chen Niu to sit in the back.

“Hyah—”

The whip cracked in the air, like a bugle call leading the way.

Xu Youguang began: “Your uncle is also a pitiful man. Back then, those few greedy mouthfuls nearly wiped out his whole family. Just for a few bites of food—at any other time, it never would’ve led to such an end, right?”

“He’s not too clear-headed now because he was traumatized back then. But at that time, who wasn’t a pitiful soul?”

“My family actually had a younger brother after Guozi too, but we couldn’t keep him alive either.”

“So you have to weigh this carefully. Don’t go picking fights with your grandma because of him.”

Xu Youguang knew that although Chen Niu looked cold and hard, inside he was actually soft-hearted, a bit like his father.

And just now, Chen Erjun had indeed looked crazy and miserable. Xu Youguang worried Chen Niu’s resolve might waver.

Chen Niu listened along the way. “Uncle, don’t worry. I know the difference now—I’m not a child anymore.”

Back then he had been silly and didn’t know right from wrong.

Xu Youguang nodded. “Good. Then let me go on. Let’s talk about those famine years. You were too shocked to remember, but I’ll never forget.”

“Those days were terrible. We still had to hand over grain with our lives, and when famine struck, even farmers like us who grew food had nothing to eat.”

“In the fields and land, in the mountains and rivers—at first there were rules, not allowing people to act out. Later, when people were starving, who cared anymore? In the end, it was like the mountain had been skinned bare.”

“But proper grain still wasn’t enough—it wasn’t going to work.”

“Your father—you probably only know him as a halfwit, like people said. But what you don’t know is that when he realized there wasn’t enough grain, he didn’t even want to eat or drink anymore.”

“Why? Because he was saving it for you, for his mother, for his wife and child.”

“After that, I never saw him as a fool again. His heart was clear as day—he was a real man who stood tall.”

Hearing this, Chen Niu lowered his head.

Old memories resurfaced in his mind.

His father lying in bed, covering himself with the quilt, unwilling to get up and eat;

His grandmother quietly reducing her own meager share of food in her bowl, something he hadn’t noticed then;

And his mother discovering the grain was gone, despairing and taking her own life…

At the bureau earlier, he had already remembered.

Those painful memories he had once repressed were uncovered, surfacing vividly in his mind.

Echoing with Xu Youguang’s voice, he even “saw” Zhang Peiyue biting her lip until it bled, taking two sips of blood, telling him to go call for help; then later, how his grandmother had closed her eyes, tears falling, as she nodded and agreed to those people’s demands.

The grain had been stolen, but it couldn’t be spoken of.

If the truth were revealed, even more of such things might happen. So even though others knew it was wrong, for Zhang Peiyue, who had just lost both her “children,” it was unbearably cruel. Still, they could only plead with her to agree.

The condition of that exchange was: he had to be kept alive.

Tears streamed down Chen Niu’s face, blurring his vision.

Perhaps hearing the sound, Xu Youguang slowed the ox cart, telling Xu Aigang to go ahead with the first cart. He didn’t call anyone else, only listened to the crying of this man, who was already considered a “grown man.”

After a while, Chen Niu finally spoke: “Uncle, it’s late. Let’s go home.”

“Yes, we should go back,” said Xu Youguang. “If we don’t, the family will be worried.”

Xu Youguang sent Chen Niu to the door.

“Dong dong——”

Chen Niu knocked and then said hoarsely, “It’s me.”

Very quickly, Shi Qian rushed out from inside and ran to open the door.

“Moo moo.”

Hungry, right? Come eat.

The little yellow calf swished his tail and led him toward the kitchen.

As the courtyard door opened, Chen Niu finally saw the faint glow from the kitchen, flickering on and off. It seemed the old lady was reluctant to waste firewood, lighting it for a while then letting it go out.

Hearing movement, the fire flared up again.

With the light, Zhang Peiyue squinted, saw her grandson’s abnormal eyes, and lifted the lid of the warmed pot. “Eat first.”

Steam rose, revealing brown sugar buns and sweet potatoes inside. The brown sugar had only been added not long ago, but the heat had worked quickly.

Shi Qian nudged Chen Niu: “Moo moo.”

Don’t think so much, eat first!

Chen Niu sat down, grabbing a bun in one hand and a big sweet potato in the other.

“Grandma, have you eaten?”

“I ate with Qian Niuhua,” Zhang Peiyue replied. She held a broken comb, carefully combing the calf’s fur.

Shi Qian also nodded: “Moo moo.”

I ate.

Then Chen Niu buried his head in eating.

After a while, Zhang Peiyue asked when he stayed silent, “Xu Youguang told you everything?”

“Mm.” Chen Niu paused in his eating and nodded seriously.

“What do you think?” she asked.

“I—” Chen Niu lifted his head, looking at his grandmother, opened his mouth, but didn’t know what to say.

In the end, it all turned into an apology: “Grandma, I’m sorry. I used to remember nothing, I wasn’t smart, muddleheaded, and I did—”

Zhang Peiyue raised her hand to stop him. “Don’t bring up those things.”

“If you want to blame me, it’s normal.” She thought to herself, that was her choice. “Grandma never blamed you. I only blame myself.”

“What’s that saying—there’s no way in this world to have it all, take care of this side and that side at the same time.”

If she had insisted on thoroughly investigating the grain thief, not covering things up at that crucial moment, there was a chance she could’ve caught the “one who stole the grain.” But she gave up. At that moment, between the real culprit and the last surviving family member, she chose to save the living.

Her son and daughter-in-law surely wouldn’t blame her.

But Zhang Peiyue herself could not let it go. She often thought of that foolish yet sensible child, and that poor girl who didn’t even get two good years.

When Chen Niu heard this, something flashed through his mind. His face showed a dazed expression.

Shi Qian once again couldn’t quite understand: “Moo moo.”

Why keep blaming each other?

Looking at the bewildered calf, Zhang Peiyue didn’t explain further. She stood up. “It’s late. I’m going to bed. After you’ve eaten, wash up and sleep well.”

That was directed at Chen Niu.

Obediently, Chen Niu finished his meal, washed with hot water, and then lay back down in bed.

Shi Qian followed him into the room. This time, instead of restless tossing, it was a straightforward question.

“Qian Niuhua, do you miss your parents?”

In the moonlight, Chen Niu seemed to see the calf nod.

“I miss them too.”

This was the first time in over ten years that he clearly recalled his parents’ faces.

But strangely, that night Chen Niu fell asleep early, even surprising Shi Qian.

The next day, Shi Qian woke up to graze.

Cows don’t need much sleep, spending most of the day eating grass, so he woke up particularly early.

Opening his eyes, the moon hadn’t even fully set behind the hills yet, and dawn was just breaking, when he saw Chen Niu was already up as well.

Shi Qian puzzled: “Moo moo?”

Chen Niu, why are you up so early?

Chen Niu didn’t answer. After checking on the calf, he quietly tidied the house.

When it grew a little brighter, Chen Niu pulled out that thick dictionary, compared it with his old notes, and began softly reading aloud.

Shi Qian: …

Another day of being dragged into studying. Feels familiar.