I used rebirth to bury his captivating gaze.

Chapter 21: A love letter placed in the space.

The person spying on Fourth Uncle and Yu Qiu was Diao Yan. She saw that the two were indeed having an ambiguous relationship, and the love letter in Yu Han's desk drawer must have been written by Yu Qiu to Fourth Uncle.

Diao Yan confidently assumed that was true. She glanced sideways at the two adulterers, who were using their uncle-niece relationship as a shield to do immoral things behind her back. She wouldn't appreciate the gift from them. Then she quickly went into the west wing.

"Yu Han said you're getting married soon, right?"

"Fourth Uncle, Fourth Uncle, will you leave again in the future?"

"Walk."

"Fourth Uncle, why don't you stay? It would be so nice for the whole family to live together."

“I’ve gotten used to being away from home for many years, and I really don’t feel comfortable going back to the village to farm. Besides, I also want to develop my career.”

"Fourth Uncle, can you attend my wedding?"

"Of course, I couldn't possibly miss your wedding now that I'm back, right? It's just that I didn't prepare a wedding gift for you in advance."

"Fourth Uncle, no need. You've already brought so many gifts. The red yarn sweater and the red scarf you gave me are my wedding gifts."

"Okay, let's go back to sleep, it's getting late."

"Okay, goodnight, Fourth Uncle!"

Then they went into their respective rooms.

The woman's head, which had peeked out from the crack in the door of the west wing, immediately retreated and closed the door.

After folding the white gauze scarf, Yu Han put it in the cabinet on the kang (heated brick bed). Then she got off the bed and sat on the wooden chair in front of the desk, continuing to fiddle with the silver-white fountain pen that her fourth uncle had given her.

Yu Qiu walked into the west room of the west wing and found Yu Han still fiddling with her two big eyes, looking at the pen intently.

"Yu Han, it's getting late, go to sleep. Why are you still looking at that pen? No one's going to steal it from you."

"Sis, you go to sleep first. I'll do some more of my winter break homework before I go to sleep."

"Then don't stay up too late, it will affect your health. Health is the foundation of everything."

"Yes, I know, thank you, Third Sister."

"Ugh! Why are you thanking me? It doesn't sound right."

"Hehe! Alright, I won't say it anymore. Go to sleep, Third Sister. If you get a good night's sleep, we'll continue dealing with that iron hen tomorrow."

"What rooster or hen? I'm going to sleep with you and I don't care anymore."

She made a face at Yuqiu, "Hehe!"

Seeing that she had fallen asleep completely, Yu Han turned back to look at the fountain pen. It seemed like she had seen it somewhere before, and it seemed like she had written something with this fountain pen.

Suddenly, something else occurred to her. In an instant, her mind raced, and she truly recalled those fleeting events of that year.

Not now, but in her past life. She immediately opened the drawer and found a book inside that looked like it had been turned over and was now placed at a different angle.

She then realized that the books on the desk shelf were also somewhat messy. She turned back to look at the open drawer and took out a long-forgotten, worn-out diary.

She turned around and saw that Yuqiu was sleeping soundly, her head buried in the quilt. She hurriedly opened the yellow plastic-covered diary.

This diary doesn't belong to the original owner; she brought it with her and it's her most precious possession from her past life. It contains many old stories!

If someone accidentally flips through the pages and reads the contents, it wouldn't matter; they wouldn't be able to tell where her handwriting came from. She didn't write anything special, just everyday things. But she didn't want people to know too much about her.

If you let people know too much about her, they will know her lifeline, and then attack her weaknesses and exploit her vulnerabilities to achieve their goals.

Suddenly, something occurred to her. She quickly put down the pen she had been clutching in her left hand, and with both hands, opened the pages of her diary. There, she found a piece of paper—a letter that should have been burned long ago—still tucked away in the pages.

She didn't look at what was written on the letter, but she knew it was a love letter from her past life.

This is because the name at the very beginning of the letter, which contains very little text, is simply the character "Yu" (玉). Furthermore, the signature at the end of the letter lacks the date and any other name.

The diary was yellowed, but the letter paper remained exactly as it was, looking almost like new paper, except that a slightly torn page from the student's notebook, a pristine white page, was missing.

Moreover, the sudden disappearance of this letter and the notebook is what caused another uproar in Yuqiu's marriage.

But then she suddenly realized that it would be safest to put it in the dream space she had unexpectedly acquired.

What will I do with this diary and this old blank sheet of paper in the future? Should I keep them in my online space when I have more free time, or should I destroy them?

I imagine her folding the letter and tucking it between the pages of this long-forgotten, yellowed diary.

She took a deep breath, closed her eyes, and instantly placed it into her dream space with her mind!

Then he closed the drawer, picked up the new fountain pen, wrote a few questions in his fifth-grade winter vacation Chinese homework book, and went to bed.

The next morning, around five o'clock, the sky in the Northeast winter was already bright.

This week, the sisters-in-law took turns cooking in the kitchen. In addition to the original two, a new member was added, namely Xu Fengying, Yang Chong's first wife, who had just returned to the courtyard from her parents' home in another place. She started cooking for a week.

Xu Fengying prepared the dishes in the kitchen according to the menu written by the old lady.

The two sisters-in-law in front of her also held the old lady's handwriting, but the handwriting was not written by her. The old lady had never attended a private school and could not even write her own name.

The menu changed every week. After Yang Zhi finished school and had dinner, he would sit on the heated kang (a traditional Chinese bed-stove) in the east room of the east wing. The old lady would name the dishes, and Yang Zhi would take a pencil and a small notebook beforehand. He would lie on the wooden table on the heated kang and write until he fell asleep.

The old lady slapped the dining table twice, and Dazhi immediately felt dizzy and disoriented. Then, he continued the old lady's rambling recitation of the names of the dishes, finally finishing writing them down in a fancy way. With a "snap," he tore off a page and handed it to the old lady. "Grandma, I'm done writing. You can read it yourself. I have to go back to sleep." After saying that, he pushed open the door and ran away.

"I'll look at your grandma's legs, don't you know I'm blind?"

"You should go to sleep too. Look at how long the dish names are. It's good enough that he wrote them down for you. Why would he write a menu for the wives to cook? Do you think this is a palace? A country person's yard is too quiet and tidy."

"Old man, what nonsense are you spouting? What time is it? I called Dazhi over right after I finished dinner, what time could it be?"

The wall clock struck with a "clang, clang," and the old lady looked up and exclaimed, "Damn it, it's already twelve o'clock!"

Xu Fengying, the newly appointed head of the kitchen, got up early, wearing a thick cotton-padded jacket and trousers, and carrying a pair of cotton glove covers that her fourth uncle had just received the night before. She slowly walked into the west kitchen and put down the two cotton glove covers.

He took out the menu that the old lady had given him from his pocket with one hand.

She could read; she'd at least finished third grade. She opened it and glanced at it. The writing was all cursive and messy—was it cursive or something? She only looked at the general outline before putting it back in her pocket.

The old lady ate six dishes and a soup every day, just like she always did in the courtyard.

In addition, the elderly couple had special small pots to cook, which were also prepared by their daughter-in-law who cooked in the kitchen.

She was busy in the kitchen when Yang Chong happened to be outside the kitchen's backyard. He took out two large cabbages from the cellar, opened the kitchen door, placed the cabbages on the floor, and told her to be steady and not rush. He said no one would blame her if she didn't do a good job; they were all family, and after all, she hadn't cooked for this large family of more than ten people for half a year while she was away at her parents' house. After giving her a few more instructions, he left.