Chapter 88: Chapter 089: What is the Value of Filial Piety_1

Chapter 88 -089: What is the Value of Filial Piety_1

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Don’t doubt it, this method really worked. How much is filial piety worth? In Old Madam Qiao’s eyes, only real silver could hold sway. After hearing her son’s solemn promises, Old Madam Qiao’s mood immediately improved somewhat, and she began calculating eagerly.

Though Madam Qiao disliked Qiao Muniang, she was nonetheless covetous of the silver in that girl’s hands. Qiao Muniang wasn’t easy to deal with, not even a penny could be squeezed from her, so why not just let the third branch follow Qiao Muniang in business? Once they made silver, she still had her grip on her son, didn’t she? In the end, wouldn’t the silver end up in her hands anyway?

Old Madam Qiao’s eyes flickered, and with a deliberate cough and an aggrieved expression, she addressed Qiao Yuanming, “You must remember the words you’ve spoken today. The fellow villagers are witnesses. If later on your family prospers but you neglect your parents, I’m telling you, the whole village won’t stand by with cold eyes!”

The daughters-in-law and sisters-in-law who had prepared to enjoy the show were stunned. When did they become witnesses?

Madam Liu’s eyes grew colder, clearly seeing through Old Lady Qiao’s plans. She thought dividing the household would be the end of it, but who would have thought such ties couldn’t be severed just by saying they could?

Qiao Yuanming just wanted to quickly calm the situation and repeatedly said, “Mother, don’t worry. No matter what, I won’t neglect you. Please go inside the house, it’s too sunny out here.”

Old Lady Qiao snorted discontentedly, and only then did she simmer down and turn to enter the house.

Qiao Yuanming breathed a sigh of relief. Just as he was about to go soothe Madam Liu, she turned around to greet the guests instead. Whether intentionally or not, Qiao Yuanming felt that Madam Liu had suddenly become distant. Where there were previous intimacies, now there was only a respectful chill.

Qiao Yuanming was baffled, unaware that Madam Liu’s heart had been thoroughly wounded and her hopes dashed.

Early this morning, just as Mrs. Fang entered the kitchen, she was startled to see Muniang already busily at work.

“Lady, why did you get up so early? Isn’t it my job to prepare breakfast?”

Normally, Mrs. Fang was only responsible for the meals of the laborers; Muniang always cooked for her own family. But Muniang was too lazy in the mornings and could never get out of bed early, so she handed over the breakfast duty to Mrs. Fang.

Muniang, busy chopping chicken, looked up and replied, “Oh, I happened to wake up early today, so I came to do it myself.”

What was just an offhand remark made Mrs. Fang suddenly feel guilty, “Is it because you dislike my cooking?”

Muniang couldn’t help but laugh at Mrs. Fang’s miserable face, “Not at all. Today, there is something important, so I wanted to cook myself. If you’re not busy, come and help.”

Only then did Mrs. Fang shake off her melancholy, asking, “What’s the occasion today, Lady? You’re preparing so much.”

Indeed, with chickens and rabbits on the stove top, it wasn’t any kind of holiday—could it be that they were expecting guests at home?

Muniang glanced toward the door, then whispered, “Today is my mother’s birthday; she doesn’t know it yet. I’m planning to give her a surprise at noon.”

Mrs. Fang then broke into a smile, “So that’s it, no wonder. Lady, you really are thoughtful.”

Muniang laughed softly, “As children, shouldn’t we devote our hearts to it?”

Mrs. Fang’s expression, however, was tinged with sadness, “To have a daughter like Lady Qiao, one must truly be blessed.”

Muniang didn’t pay much attention and casually said, “It’s the same for all of us as children. If Mrs. Fang had children, she would definitely be more filial than I.”

But as soon as she spoke, she realized her mistake. How could Mrs. Fang not have children? It was just that a flood had hit her hometown, several of her children died of sickness and hunger, not one survived, and that natural disaster not only took away their children but also forced them into servitude.

Mrs. Fang’s eyes were moist, and she began to sob, “If my children were still alive, the oldest would also be twelve by now.”

Muniang quickly tried to comfort her, “Look at me, talking without thinking. Mrs. Fang, let’s leave the past in the past. Dwelling on it now only brings needless sorrow.”

Mrs. Fang wiped her tears away, “It’s just that I suddenly remembered it all again. Enough, enough. I won’t think about it anymore.”

Only then did Muniang say, “Not having children now doesn’t mean you won’t have any in the future. If you ask me, Mrs. Fang, why not try a little harder? It wouldn’t be difficult to have a child.”

What Muniang said made sense; Mrs. Fang was still under thirty years old. If she wished to have children, it really wasn’t impossible.

Mrs. Fang was momentarily lost in thought. She had considered this before but feared that if she did have a child, she might not be able to protect it, and it could be lost, just like before. Weren’t they still slaves after all, ending up with the same fate as before?

Looking at her mistress before her, Mrs. Fang felt truly grateful. Although Lady Qiao could sometimes be stern, she had never seen her treat anyone cruelly. As long as one worked honestly, there were many benefits. Now, life seemed even more stable than when they were farmers. Perhaps having a child now wouldn’t be so bad.

Even though both she and her husband were slaves, and their child would be born into servitude, Mrs. Fang genuinely trusted her mistress deep in her heart, believing that her child would not have a hard life.

Mrs. Fang nodded with gratitude, “If Lady Qiao permits it, then we will try.”

“Good, go outside and clean these rabbit innards. There’s not much water left in the tank; Silver has already gone to fetch some. For now, use it sparingly,” Muniang smiled.

“Yes!” With her concerns alleviated, Mrs. Fang’s mood improved, and she went out with the rabbit in hand.

Muniang planned to make chicken stewed with mushrooms first, which was both light and highly nutritious, perfect for Mrs. Lin. After adding some firewood to the stove, she deftly washed the pot and then filled a ladle with water to boil. Next, she added the chicken pieces, letting them release blood and impurities as the water temperature rose. Muniang was especially meticulous about food, paying great attention to both ingredients and process. She could not bring herself to simply boil chicken and mushrooms in water and call it done.

The kitchen bustled with activity, while Mrs. Lin had no idea. Hong Luo helped her out of bed and started sewing clothes in the room. Muniang was usually very busy, so it was normal for her to be unseen for a while, and Mrs. Lin didn’t give it much thought.

The chicken stewed with mushrooms was almost ready; it just needed to be vigorously boiled for a while longer, but without a pressure cooker in this era, it was quite a hassle.

Mrs. Fang had cleaned the rabbit and was ready to chop it into pieces when Muniang stopped her, “No! This rabbit doesn’t need to be cut up.”