Family Cultivation: My Ancestral Home Gets Infinite Upgrades

Before the sun sank behind the western mountains, Jiang Fu'an led his three children back to the threshing ground.

From afar, one could see a beautiful woman, around twenty years old, looking out from the entrance of her own courtyard.

She was dressed in ordinary coarse cloth clothes, but her face was beautiful and gentle.

This is Jiang Fu'an's second wife—Su Wanqing.

Jiang Fu'an's first wife was named Wang Lanhua.

She had a difficult childbirth the year she gave birth to Shitou. The baby was saved, but she was seriously injured and passed away before the winter was over.

Jiang Fu'an still feels guilty whenever this matter is brought up.

Stone possessed a "devouring body," and grew rapidly in the womb, weighing a staggering twelve pounds and eight ounces at birth.

Such a fetus is naturally difficult to deliver naturally.

Jiang Fu'an felt guilty for this for a long time and never considered remarrying.

Until a year ago, when he was hunting in the mountains, he rescued Su Wanqing, who was being chased by bandits.

She was originally a young lady from a wealthy family, but her entire family was killed by bandits, leaving her all alone with nowhere to go.

Seeing her beauty, Jiang Fu'an thought that he might have to have a baby when he upgraded his "ancestral home" in the future, so he took her home.

And so, a pampered young lady from a wealthy family ended up being the lucky one for this country bumpkin.

"Husband, where have you been? The food is all ready."

Upon seeing the four figures, Su Wanqing smiled faintly and stepped forward to greet them.

Her voice was soft, yet it made Shi Tou, Yue'er, and He Miao tense up at the same time.

Three pairs of eyes turned to their father, fearing he would reveal the fight that afternoon.

Jiang Fu'an simply said casually:

"Those brats were too naughty; I just taught them a lesson outside the village."

Su Wanqing didn't ask any more questions, only giving a soft "hmm".

The three children secretly breathed a sigh of relief.

As soon as the family stepped into the courtyard, the enticing aroma of food wafted into Yue'er's nose.

She turned her head to look towards the main room—where the square table was already fully set.

Her eyes lit up, and she was about to run to the table when she heard her mother's calm voice coming from behind her:

"Aunt Wang just came by and said that you three siblings ganged up on her son and beat him up until he was covered in bruises. Is that true?"

The three siblings froze on the spot, their faces turning pale. They looked at each other, but no one dared to utter a sound.

Jiang Fu'an, considering that today was his eldest daughter He Miao's birthday, advised her:

"Wanqing, I've already spoken to them about this. How about we eat first and talk about it tomorrow?"

"Husband, fighting is no small matter; a few words are not enough."

Su Wanqing turned and pointed to the few prayer cushions in the corner of the main room, her tone turning serious:

"Since Father has already reprimanded you, Mother won't say anything more. Now go there and kneel for a full hour, then you can have dinner."

Kneeling as punishment is not unfamiliar to them.

The stone and the seedlings remained silent, bowing their heads as they walked toward the prayer mat.

Only Yue'er was still thinking about the delicious food on the table. She turned her head and looked at Jiang Fu'an with pleading eyes.

Jiang Fu'an spread his hands, indicating that he was powerless to help.

Although he doesn't usually discipline his children much, he understands the principle that "jade must be carved to become a useful object."

He never interfered when Su Wanqing disciplined the children.

Seeing that her father wasn't helping her, Yue'er pouted and turned to walk angrily towards the main room, muttering under her breath:

"She's not my biological mother, why are you meddling so much..."

"Yue'er! What did you say?!"

Jiang Fu'an suddenly shouted.

Being a stepmother is difficult enough.

Su Wanqing devoted herself to the children, disciplining them strictly while taking meticulous care of them, relieving him of a great deal of burden.

How could he tolerate Yue'er being so ungrateful?

Startled, Yue'er shrank back and ran to kneel on the prayer mat, right next to her sister He Miao.

She knew she had said the wrong thing, so she buried her face in her hands and dared not utter another sound.

Jiang Fu'an walked to his wife's side, his voice softening:

"Wanqing, I'm sorry, this child speaks without thinking... I will definitely teach her properly from now on."

Su Wanqing remained calm. She shook her head and said softly:

"Husband, there's no need to be angry. I knew it wouldn't be easy being a stepmother. These words are nothing, as long as you don't blame me."

Seeing how understanding and considerate she was, Jiang Fu'an felt a warmth in his heart and couldn't help but reach out and pull her into his arms.

Su Wanqing blushed slightly, glanced at the three little heads in the main room, and gently nudged him:

"I left a few dishes in the kitchen; please take them to Uncle Xu and Aunt Xu."

The Xu family lived next door and had helped Jiang Fu'an a lot over the years.

The elderly couple's child died young, and they have always treated He Miao and her family like their own grandchildren.

In the first few years after Wang Lanhua left, we were very grateful to Aunt Xu for helping to take care of the children;

Xu Bo passed on his hunting skills, which he had accumulated over most of his life, to Jiang Fu'an without reservation.

The meal was plentiful today, so naturally some should be sent over.

Jiang Fu'an nodded, whispered a compliment, "You're so thoughtful," and then turned and walked towards the kitchen.

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

An hour later, the long-awaited birthday banquet finally began.

Su Wanqing reheated all the dishes and cooked a bowl of noodles for He Miao separately, topped with a plump poached egg.

Jiang Fu'an then took out the candied fruit, taffy, and other snacks he had bought in town that morning.

Faced with a table full of delicious food, the three children had long forgotten about the punishment they had just received.

The room was filled with the clattering of bowls and chopsticks and the sounds of laughter, creating a lively and warm atmosphere.

During this time, Jiang Fu'an took out a three-inch square wooden box and handed it to the birthday boy:

"He Miao, this is your birthday gift from your father."

He Miao's eyes lit up, and she took it with both hands:

"Thank you, Father!"

"Open it and see if you like it."

He Miao carefully lifted the lid of the box and saw six small wooden figures lying inside.

The carving is not very refined, but the eyebrows, eyes, and figure are still vaguely discernible.

It was the three siblings, along with Jiang Fu'an, Wang Lanhua, and Su Wanqing.

Yue'er peeked over curiously, but when she saw that it was a wooden doll that couldn't be eaten, she immediately lost interest and turned to pick up some ribs.

He Miao liked it very much, and even when Shi Tou tried to touch the box, she protected it and wouldn't let him.

Su Wanqing, who was standing to the side, glanced at her husband secretly, her eyes filled with confusion.

In her opinion, since the family sees each other every day, why bother carving these things?

Sigrún has taught at the Iceland University of the Arts as a part-time lecturer since and was Dean of the Department of Fine Art from -. In – she held a research position at Reykjavík Art Museum focusing on the role of women in Icelandic art. She studied fine art at the Icelandic College of Arts and Crafts and at Pratt Institute, New York, and holds BA and MA degrees in art history and philosophy from the University of Iceland. Sigrún lives and works in Iceland.

There was no electricity in this world, and there was little entertainment after dark. After dinner, the children went to bed one after another.

Jiang Fu'an, however, was still enjoying a night with his wife, a night that belonged only to the two of them.

Su Wanqing is a strict mother who has the final say in front of her children, but behind closed doors and after taking off her clothes, she is a gentle, considerate wife who blushes and whispers.

Although they have been married for a year, Jiang Fu'an still loves his wife dearly, and is captivated by the warmth of her skin and the fragrance of her hair.

After the clouds dispersed and the rain stopped, Su Wanqing's cheeks flushed, and she nestled against his chest, whispering:

"My husband, let's have a child."

Jiang Fu'an was stunned for a moment, then remembered Yue'er's harsh words from the evening.

In an instant, he understood his wife's thoughts.

Since their marriage, he had been taking contraceptive measures because he was worried that Wanqing would suffer a difficult childbirth like his deceased wife.

But this concern may be dispelled when the seedlings are selected by a nearby immortal sect and can afford a better doctor.

He stroked his wife's smooth back and replied:

"it is good."

As soon as he finished speaking, the white halo in his mind suddenly trembled slightly and spread outwards.

Jiang Fu'an suddenly remembered that seven years ago at this very moment, it was his eldest daughter He Miao's clear cry that first rang out in this world.

She's already seven years old!