[The little cotton-padded jacket is so heartwarming, I really want a soft and obedient daughter like Chu Xi.]
[They're both mama's girls, but look at Chu Xi and then look at Chu Wei—one is here to repay their mom's kindness, while the other seems here for revenge. Chu Wei just talks big and doesn't do a single thing to help her mom.]
Li Sulan's heart tightened with sadness. If only her daughter didn't have to be so understanding, Sang Ning never even stepped into the kitchen—she couldn't even wash a dish.
Her poor little Xiao Xi, what kind of suffering had she endured in the Sang Family for the past twenty years?
She gently stroked Chu Xi's head, her throat tightening with emotion: "Don't worry, Mommy will make you the happiest daughter in the world from now on."
[Keep the warmth for yourself and leave the tears for me, this is so heartbreaking.]
[Chu Xi and her mom are honestly the emotional backbone of this show. I adore the way they interact.]
[Though, I feel like something about Chu Mommy's words is a bit strange. Shouldn't she always say "from the beginning"? It's like Chu Xi wasn't even her daughter before this.]
[Nitpickers can roll off now, I'm busy crying—don't mess with my vibe.]
After the spicy chicken was ready, Li Sulan brought over a big bowl to serve it. Though she didn't know how to cook, she couldn't let Xiao Xi do everything on her own.
Chu Xi used chopsticks to pick up a piece of spicy chicken and fed it to Li Sulan. Watching Li Sulan's eyes light up with amazement after tasting it, Chu Xi felt deeply satisfied.
If even Li Sulan, who had sampled countless gourmet delicacies, found it delicious, then it truly must be. It seemed her effort learning it didn't go to waste.
While she lived in the Sang Family, Hu Zhi never actually let her cook. Hu Zhi believed that girls with great culinary skills risked becoming unpaid housewives for their husbands in the future. No matter how much the neighbors praised her cooking, Hu Zhi simply refused to teach her.
The reason Chu Xi begged Hu Zhi to teach her to cook was because of Shen Yi.
During an interview, the host had asked Shen Yi what skill he considered a bonus in a future girlfriend. Without hesitation, Shen Yi replied: "Cooking skills."
He himself loved cooking and hoped his future partner would also be a girl with culinary talents. That way, they could cook together every day, reveling in the tiny joys and the eternal love within the simplicity of three meals a day amidst life's ordinary elegance.
Chu Xi dreamed of one day becoming that woman, sharing each moment of three meals and four seasons with him.
[Oh my god, I'm salivating—I want Chu Xi's branded spicy chicken too!]
[Chu Xi's cooking skills are amazing, why didn't she ever compete on "Star Chef"?]
[Why else? She got replaced by the so-called Royal Family, of course.]
[Are you talking about Sang Ning? I can never forget how her supposedly cute cookies ended up looking like piles of poop. If you don't have what it takes, don't take on the job—no one wants to watch her demonstrate how to make poop!]
[I bet Sang Ning is cooking her dinner right now in her stream. Let me go check what kind of demon-level dish she's concocting this time.]
[Wait for me! Let's go as a team to roast her together.]
A wave of Chu Xi's livestream viewers flooded Sang Ning's livestream.
The missing Sang Ning reappeared on camera.
She carried a locally-raised chicken in each hand, a vine rope wrapped around her waist, with two woven baskets hanging on either side. One was filled with wild yams; the other, raspberries.
She walked briskly from afar, her figure moving effortlessly—every bit a female knight secluded in the mountain woods.
[Oh my, once again Sang Ning has stunned me. Turns out she was off catching farm chickens and picking wild fruits just now!]
[She resembles a celestial heroine in a martial arts novel—both peerlessly elegant and masterfully skilled. Is there any director of wuxia dramas who can hand her a script already? Judging by her performance today with the production team, she doesn't even need a stunt double!]
The cameraman stared in stunned disbelief at the array of things Sang Ning was hauling. He was practically frozen like a log.
"Mr. Sang, you came empty-handed. How did you end up with two baskets out of nowhere?"
"Made them myself," Sang Ning replied with a casual glance at her waist. Her tone was indifferent.
It wasn't that hard—in her past life in the temple, she'd woven plenty of these things.
[What the—! Sang Ning seems boundless, constantly surprising us.]
[Director Sun, if you don't rein in Sang Ning, she's about to turn this idyllic farm show into a survivalist wilderness show.]
The audience who just switched over from Chu Xi's stream couldn't make sense of the situation—they only thought Sang Ning was showing off.
[Wait, now's dinnertime, why is Sang Ning off in the mountains instead of cooking properly?]
[What's up with the wild fruits tied to her waist and the chickens in her hands? Don't tell me she actually caught them herself and also made those baskets. Why doesn't she claim to be a descendent of Master Lu Ban while she's at it?]
[Obviously the production crew gave them to her—just to push their strong-woman image for her. The Royal Family treatment truly is unmatched.]
[Why can't Sang Ning learn a thing or two from Chu Xi? Ground your feet and work hard. Look at her, making great dishes, while Sang Ning is here acting like she's some kind of superhero.]
[The idiots above must be Milkshake fans. Can you go cheer for your main star elsewhere? This is Sang Ning's stream.]
[Did any of you see earlier when Sang Ning was running like a lightning bolt? You keep harping about "Royal Family," but can anyone be more royal than Chu Xi?]
The live chat exploded into a chaotic argument as a radiant Sang Ning briskly strode downhill, her haul in tow.
This time, no mouths at home would go hungry.
After walking a bit further, she stopped abruptly; the cameraman quickly froze too.
Through the lens, a farm chicken dashed past the screen, closely followed by Sang Ning flying past like a blur.
The cameraman instantly broke out in cold sweat—if he let Sang Ning slip out of frame again, his job could very well be on the line.
Thus, the dense forest played host to a bizarre chase scene: the chicken running ahead, Sang Ning flying after, and the cameraman scrambling at the end.
The Milkshake fans who were mocking Sang Ning were now utterly dumbfounded. Was that speed humanly possible?
Their hands froze mid-sentence, ready to attack her, but were gradually lowered. Then, through the stream, Sang Ning gently flicked a pebble into the air with her toes, jumped, spun gracefully mid-air, and expertly kicked the stone toward the chicken—all while keeping the baskets of wild fruits perfectly intact on her waist. Not a single piece fell.
The chicken, struck precisely by the pebble, instantly lost its ability to fight back. In the lush forest, only the clear cry of the chicken echoed sharply.
The cameraman froze, the livestream audience froze too.
What kind of legendary chicken-catching display was this, and was it provided free of charge?
After placing the caught chicken alongside the other two, Sang Ning grabbed a thin vine from a nearby tree. She skillfully bound the three chickens together and, with ease, hoisted them up and continued on her way.
The neutrals supporting Sang Ning found their momentum reigniting.
[Milkshake fans, weren't you just accusing Sang Ning of acting for show? Why don't you ask your main star to go try it then!]
[Sure, cooking is impressive, but catching chickens? That's downright badass.]
The Milkshake fans collectively fell silent; Sang Ning's livestream had veered into realms too surreal for them. They retreated back to their star's stream, seeking comfort in the emotional mother-daughter moments instead.