"Aunt Green, do you want to be as tough as my mom?"

Rosalind Green’s eyes lit up, and she looked at her hopefully. "I... Can I?"

’I’m so useless. Could I really become as formidable as Phoebe Huxley?’

’Even being half as tough would be good enough. My standards aren’t that high.’

"Of course you can! My mom said so. You can build up your strength. Aunt Green, from now on, don’t just do the light chores. Do more heavy labor and eat more food, and you’ll get stronger!" Tanya said earnestly.

In truth, Rosalind Green’s frailty wasn’t entirely her fault. Adrian Hawthorne’s father bore most of the responsibility, and Adrian himself shared some of the blame. The father and son had protected her too well, shielding her from every storm, and naturally raised her to be a useless doll.

"What can I possibly do? I don’t know how to do anything," Rosalind Green said, lacking confidence.

The things she knew how to do were completely useless in the countryside. She was skilled in needlework, the four arts of the scholar, and making all sorts of Chinese and Western pastries. She also knew flower arranging, the tea ceremony, and how to play mahjong, but none of those things could build her strength.

Jim Thorne roared impatiently, "If you don’t know how, then learn! There’s so much empty land on the mountain, don’t you know how to clear it? Clear the land and plant potatoes and sweet potatoes. Feed the leftovers to the pigs. Raise some chickens, ducks, and geese. Go up the mountain and pull weeds to feed them. There’s work to do every single day. It all comes down to whether you want to do it or not!"

’His mom and grandma were busy from morning till night, but when it came to this ugly freak, she didn’t know what to do. Hmph. Ugly and lazy. Adrian Hawthorne’s dad wasn’t just blind; his brain must have been eaten by maggots for him to marry a good-for-nothing spendthrift like her.’

Rosalind Green, deeply hurt by his shouting, sobbed and said softly, "I... I don’t know how to raise pigs, or how to feed chickens and ducks."

She didn’t even have the courage to kill a chicken. She had learned how to gut a fish, but she was still terrified. The sight of blood made her hands go weak and her heart pound in panic.

Rosalind Green felt truly wronged. Over the years, she had done so many things she had never done before: lighting a wood-fired stove, going up the mountain to dig for wild vegetables, gathering firewood, washing clothes, planting vegetables, and even killing fish... She had never done any of these chores her entire life. Before she was married, her mother did them; after, it was the servants. She had truly never had to lift a finger. But now...

Tanya frowned, speechless. ’Thank goodness Rosalind Green isn’t my mother,’ she thought. ’Otherwise, how could I be living this happy little life of mine!’

"Aunt Green, you need to adapt to your surroundings. Stop thinking about the past all the time. You can’t go back, no matter how much you miss it. You have to adapt to the environment; you can’t expect the environment to adapt to you."

Tanya couldn’t help but offer this advice, momentarily forgetting to hide her cleverness. Old Master Tate and Adrian Hawthorne both stared at her in shock. This was a profound life philosophy that many adults couldn’t even articulate, yet this little girl was only six years old.

Adrian also remembered now. ’That time fatty Tanya was spouting one idiom after another so fluently... that must be her true intelligence,’ he thought. ’The little fatty has been hiding her true self all this time.’

’But the old fatty Tanya was definitely genuinely slow-witted. Adrian could tell the difference between being truly stupid and just pretending. He also knew that the girl had changed after taking a fall the other day. It seemed that fall had knocked some sense into her.’

Old Master Tate also chimed in, "Tanya’s right. Since we’re here on Millstone Peak, we shouldn’t dwell on the past. Let’s just live well in the present. Look at me—I used to only know how to eat steak, and now I have to herd cattle!"

Rosalind Green’s expression changed drastically, a look of shame washing over her face. Old Master Tate had been so distinguished in the past, and he was older than her, yet now he had become a cowherd. What right did she have to cling to her pride?

"I... I will learn."

Rosalind Green nodded with determination. For her son, and for herself, she had to change.

The way Tanya had desperately protected Adrian Hawthorne moments ago had not only spurred Adrian, but had also stirred something in Rosalind Green. ’I can’t possibly have less courage than a little girl, can I?’