Chapter Twenty-Two: Exchanging Lists

That night, several news stories quietly climbed to the trending list, all featuring Feng Rui as their protagonist.

“Feng Rui as the mistress of a wealthy businessman, willingly becoming a stepmother.”
“How powerful is Feng Rui’s backing? An in-depth reveal!”
“The secrets behind the former minor internet celebrity, now shaping her persona on variety shows!”

The overwhelming public opinion exposed how, years ago, Feng Rui interfered in Ming Ming’s parents’ marriage even before their divorce, complete with timelines and photos as evidence.

When Feng Rui woke up the next morning, she found herself once again trending, cursed by a flood of haters invading her livestream. But that’s another story.

After breakfast, there was a lull. Su Wan Ning took out the dough that Sui Sui and Nian Nian had kneaded earlier.

“Mama, what are you going to do?” Nian Nian ran over, asking at her side.

“I’m going to cook something,” Su Wan Ning glanced at the ingredients on the board, rolling up her sleeves with determination.

“Wow!”

Nian Nian applauded enthusiastically, while the comments on the livestream were full of mockery.

[Can anything delicious come out of that? I don’t believe it.]
[Offering flawed dough for zero dollars, Su Wan Ning wants it.]
[I’m dying of laughter, what can you even make with that? Like Ming Ming next door?]
[Don’t even mention it, Ming Ming’s cooking made me lose my appetite for lunch.]

Su Wan Ning rolled up her sleeves and carefully kneaded the dough again. After fermenting all afternoon, it had risen slightly. Once she’d pressed out the air, she dusted the board with a thin layer of flour.

[To be honest, she really looks like she knows what she’s doing.]
[Suddenly, the goddess sprinkling flour is mesmerizing.]
[I didn’t expect Su Wan Ning’s cooking skills to be this impressive. Isn’t this a slap in the face to the other groups next door?]

After a second proofing, the dough was at its best. Su Wan Ning divided it into small balls.

The pale, tender dough seemed to come alive under her hands, effortlessly molded into various shapes.

Su Wan Ning improvised, using whatever ingredients were at hand to create her dishes.

While she worked, she taught the two children.

“Sui Sui, Nian Nian, it takes a lot of wheat to make this flour, just like those tall plants we saw in the fields.”

Nian Nian nodded, half understanding. “Wow, that’s amazing.”

Her wide eyes were full of innocence, their pure black-and-white gaze melting the hearts of the livestream audience.

Su Wan Ning continued gently, “That wheat comes from seeds, and grows over a long time, cared for by hardworking farmers.”

Some viewers caught on.

[Is she saying all this just to teach the kids to treasure food?]
[That’s quite a roundabout way.]
[But I think it’s a great way to teach, it helps kids remember and understand.]
[I hated when my mom lectured me like that growing up…]

Su Wan Ning had no idea how lively the discussion about her parenting was becoming in the comments. She simply baked the bread, finding a topic to pass the time.

Nian Nian, quick-witted, soon responded.

“Mama, I made a mistake today.”

Su Wan Ning turned to her. “Oh? What mistake did you make, Nian Nian?”

The little girl twisted her fingers together, head lowered, cheeks flushed.

“Ning Ning used so much flour today, but didn’t make noodles for Mama.”

Su Wan Ning laughed, crouching down to meet her eyes, her voice gentle but firm. “That’s not your fault. You didn’t waste any ingredients, Nian Nian. You’re still small and learning. Mama is helping you now, isn’t she?”

The child nodded, finally smiling again. “Mm! Mama is the best!”

[Our Nian Nian is so sweet—such an understanding child, clearly well raised.]
[Am I the only one who thinks Su Wan Ning is just finding things to say? Isn’t she just showing off her parenting for the camera?]
[Exactly, having kids cook was the producers’ idea, not the children’s.]
[To make herself famous, she’s willing to drag her own child through the mud. Shameless!]

The comment section grew heated, splitting over Su Wan Ning’s parenting style.

Meanwhile, Qin Jing Chen sat in his office, watching the barrage of insults scroll across the screen, his expression darkening as he pressed the intercom.

His assistant entered, hearing his stern command. “Why are so many people insulting Madam?”

The assistant broke out in a sweat.

He’d watched Madam’s livestreams too. Madam spoke freely, without airs, sometimes saying things that could upset viewers and provoke criticism.

But he didn’t dare say that to the boss.

“I’ll handle it right away.”

“Good,” Qin Jing Chen nodded with satisfaction, then added, “I don’t want to see any of these people in her comments again.”

The assistant was close to tears.

What a workload that would be!

Soon, under Su Wan Ning’s hands, the dough balls turned into adorable bread shapes: some as little rabbits, some as bears. She even built a makeshift oven with a rustic wood stove and two iron plates.

[Is she really not a professional baker? That bread is so cute!]
[She can make bread even in such harsh conditions—Su Wan Ning must know magic!]

As the bread needed time to bake, Su Wan Ning sent the children off for their afternoon rest, keeping watch by the outdoor oven herself.

After about ten minutes, the production team came on camera to brief her about the next segment.

Family swap.

The team planned to have the parents switch places while the kids slept, each taking care of the other’s children for the afternoon activities.

“Feng Rui is ready. You’ll switch with her.”

There was no lottery or game to decide—the director simply announced the swap list.