In the front courtyard where communal cooking was taking place, the grain usage was scrupulously metered out—each person contributed grain according to what they needed to eat, and consumption was similarly regulated.
There were times when extra dishes were prepared, but rice was never in surplus.
Suddenly up for a meal, the crowd exchanged glances, nearly thrown off by her abrupt change of heart.
Miao Yulan wiped away her tears, her voice trembling as she said, "Mom, wait a moment, I'll make some for you right away..."
"What's there to make? Isn't there food already?" Taking advantage of Wen Lan and Yu Xiangqin's bewilderment, the matriarch wriggled free from their grasp and plopped down at the dining table.
"It's not... That's everyone's..." Miao Yulan initially wanted to explain, but then thought better of it, "I'll give you my share."
