Milo Ye (formerly called "Zashu") stared at the contents of the book, falling into deep thought.
His family, seeing the same blank expression they were used to, didn't suspect anything unusual.
Hannah took responsibility for feeding him porridge, though his eldest sister, Lily Ye, naturally stepped in — caring for her younger siblings had already become second nature to her.
Milo obediently ate the lightly salted white porridge.
He didn't complain — he already understood that in this era, having fine white rice porridge to eat was a rare blessing. Many families could only eat coarse grains or boiled wild vegetables.
Even in his own household, they usually mixed coarse grains into their porridge. His parents were frugal — partly to save food, and partly to avoid drawing too much attention.
From the vague memories in this body's mind, he recalled overhearing his parents talking late at night. It was around 1968 — one of the years marked by famine.
Their village was conveniently located near a main road, blessed with reliable water sources and abundant farmland. Since 1960, educated youth had been sent down from the cities to work in the countryside, living and working alongside the villagers.
Those with authority in the village included the brigade leader, the secretary, the accountant, the women's director, the militia captain, and several team leaders responsible for recording work points.
The Ye family's village had fifteen work teams — a fairly large brigade — and even included a smaller neighboring hamlet as one of its teams.
The educated youth center was located in the middle of the village, housed in what used to be the estate of a former landlord.
Over the years, few of the city youths had returned home. Some couldn't endure the hardships and ended up marrying villagers; others were local men who married the young women from the city.
The village's elementary school was staffed by both locals and educated youths serving as teachers.
On the main road outside the village, a new middle school had been built — technically part of the nearby town, but on land belonging to their village.
From what Milo understood of history, his village was in a fortunate position — with roads leading to multiple counties, large farmlands, and newly developed sugarcane fields and fruit orchards.
Each year, the villagers received their rations twice — after handing over the government's quota of public grain, the rest was distributed according to each household's work points.
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The next morning, when Milo woke up, his mother lifted him to wash his face. Then she said cheerfully,
"Zashu, come on, let's go to the toilet — we need to save some fertilizer for the fields!"
Milo froze in embarrassment.
After breakfast, he wanted to follow his father outside.
He grabbed his father's hand and looked up expectantly.
"Zashu, be good," his father said. "You just got better — you can't go outside and catch cold. Stay home and play with your mother and sisters."
"No!" Milo protested softly.
"Oh my! My boy Zashu can talk now?" Milo's father exclaimed in delight. "Come on, say 'Daddy!'"
Milo was speechless.
Hannah joined in immediately, "Zashu, say 'Mommy!'"
Then all seven sisters joined the fun, surrounding and teasing him nonstop.
Milo Ye: …
In the end, he couldn't win against this pair of playful parents and his overly enthusiastic sisters. He was trapped there, utterly defeated.
The village elementary school only held half-day classes, and students even had regular rest days.
Today happened to be one of those rest days.
Since Hannah was worried about her son's recovery, she skipped work that day, staying home with her daughters to mend and sew clothes.
Milo, however, didn't share their patience or skill for needlework.
He longed to go outside — to see the open sky, to get some fresh air.
He also wanted to find a way to fill his Buddhist pagoda space with supplies — after all, how could he stockpile food without going out?
More importantly, he needed to start gathering "likes" from others as soon as possible — that was the key to unlocking his system's full functions!
"Zashu, where do you think you're going?"
Before he could reach the door, Hannah swiftly caught him by the arm and pulled him back.
Milo was stunned. Wasn't she supposed to have small feet? How is she faster than me!?
Ah, being little really meant having no rights at all!.
After being caught sneaking out several times, Milo Ye finally gave up. Hannah Yao couldn't concentrate on her embroidery anymore.
"Milo," she said with a smile, "Mom will make you something tasty, okay? Let's not go outside to play."
Milo blinked innocently.
The seven sisters immediately perked up when they heard "something tasty." The oldest, Lily, was only twelve, and the rest were even younger!
As soon as their mother mentioned good food, their mouths started watering. They quickly dropped their embroidery needles and ran to help their mother in the kitchen.
Hannah shut and locked the main gate. Then she led her seven daughters — one of them staying to keep an eye on their little brother — into the kitchen to make glutinous rice balls.
They wrapped crushed peanuts inside the sticky rice dough. These treats could be deep-fried or steamed.
But frying gave off too strong a smell — it would attract unwanted attention from the neighbors.
So they decided to steam them instead.
When the glutinous rice balls were cooked, Hannah divided them evenly — one for each child. They had just started eating when a voice came from outside.
"Why's the door locked in broad daylight?" It was Harrison Ye, returning from checking the fields.
Hannah panicked. She quickly hid the rice balls and wiped every trace of evidence from the kitchen.
The nine of them hurriedly swallowed the last bites, pretended to be calm, and went back to their seats.
When Harrison walked in, he saw his wife and seven daughters neatly embroidering handkerchiefs, while his son sat quietly — his cheeks bulging, as if something was still in his mouth.
He sniffed the air suspiciously and looked around at his wife and daughters.
"What were you eating?"
"Nothing! We were sewing," Hannah said quickly, refusing to admit anything.
The seven sisters lowered their heads, keeping silent.
Harrison's eyes narrowed. He didn't believe it.
"Milo, what did your mom give you to eat?"
Milo thought to himself, What's the big deal? Isn't it normal for a kid to have a snack?
He forced himself to swallow the last sticky bite of rice ball and, under the watchful gaze of his mother and sisters, changed the subject.
"I want milk," he said seriously.
The moment those words left his mouth, Hannah's face turned crimson, and the seven sisters all blushed too.
But Harrison didn't look embarrassed at all. Smiling cheerfully at his newly talkative son, he asked,
"Milo, what kind of milk do you want? Cow's milk or goat's milk?"
In his previous life, Milo had drunk cow's milk, but he didn't know if this body ever had either. He wondered if they even knew how to remove the gamey smell — maybe some sugar and almonds would help.
"Do we have cow's milk? If not, goat's milk is fine. But make sure it doesn't smell — add some sugar."
Harrison was delighted. His son had spoken so many words in one go! Even if it was just to make a request, he felt proud and overjoyed.
"Milo," he said warmly, "call me Dad. If you do, Dad will buy you cow's milk. If that's not enough, we'll get goat's milk too! But sugar's hard to come by, so we'll have to use just a little."
Milo sighed inwardly.
The seven sisters grinned and teased, Wow, Dad's being generous today! Eighth brother, hurry up and call him!
"Dad."
"Again."
"Dad."
"Milo, call Mom," Hannah added playfully. "Mom will buy you milk too."
Milo stared at them speechlessly. Are these two for real?
"Mom."
The sisters giggled again. What's gotten into Mom today?
Soon, the husband and wife took turns encouraging their son to call them again and again.
Then the seven sisters joined in, laughing and making him call each of them 'sister' in turn.
Milo was utterly defeated. Will this ever end?!
Only the cheerful ding-ding sounds echoing in his mind made him feel a bit less annoyed.
Every time he called his parents or sisters, he received more "likes" — and he noticed that the one-cubic-meter space in his pendant had expanded just a little!
Harrison's actions were surprisingly quick. Although he was notoriously stingy, once he promised his son something, he followed through right away.
In the village, they raised both cows and goats — collective property managed by assigned workers, who earned work points for taking care of them.
People could buy milk using those points, pay cash, or even barter with eggs.
But most families were barely getting enough to eat.
Could drinking cow or goat milk really fill their stomachs?
Some of the educated youth in the village also traded for milk — they knew it was nutritious.
Still, since milk wasn't considered a staple food, most families, especially those with many children, were reluctant to spend their limited resources on it.
However, hearing that milk could help nourish the body and improve the skin, Harrison and Hannah decided that from now on, they would buy a little milk each day for their children.
They planned to make it into a simple drink — so everyone could have a cup in the morning.
And for Milo, their youngest, they'd even let him drink a cup at noon and another in the evening.
Milo Ye couldn't help but sigh again.
A miracle… the stingy rooster finally plucked a feather!
(End of Chapter)