Chapter 335: The Benevolent and Kind-hearted Granny Foster
The sun sank behind the distant mountains, the last streaks of orange on the horizon devoured, bit by bit, by an inky blackness. Night fell silently over Avenia.
Lights in the alleyways flickered on one by one. A dim, yellow halo spilled through latticed windows onto the stone-paved road, spreading into gentle pools of warm light.
Isla Griffith leaned back against the car seat. The exhaustion that had briefly subsided now surged back in the silence. A dragging pain in her lower abdomen felt like a fine needle pricking her again and again, each wave more intense than the last.
She clenched the hem of her clothes, her knuckles turning white as she fought back a pained groan.
’I never planned on stopping in Avenia.’ It was just a way station on her escape route. Her destination was still far away.
She didn’t dare stop, let alone stay here for long. She was terrified that if she lingered even a moment more, she would be found.
Her physical exhaustion had long since passed its limit. A full day of being jostled on rugged country roads made her feel as if her bones were about to fall apart. Combined with having eaten only a few bites of dry, hard bread all day, her stomach was empty, and waves of acid reflux washed over her.
As the night deepened, a chill seeped through the cracks in the car window, clinging to her thin frame. She knew she couldn’t possibly drive through the night.
She reclined her seat slightly, planning to wrap her jacket tightly around herself and make do for one night in the cramped car. As soon as the sun rose, she would start the engine and leave.
After being cooped up in the car for so long, her chest felt tight and heavy, and the dragging pain in her abdomen left her agitated.
Isla Griffith hesitated for a moment before gently pushing the car door open and stepping out, hoping the evening breeze would offer some relief.
The country air at night was crisp, carrying the damp scent of grass and earth. But this freshness did little to ease her discomfort. Instead, it made her already weak body sway.
She hadn’t been standing for two minutes when a sudden bout of low blood sugar hit her. Her vision instantly went black.
Everything around her blurred and distorted as a crushing wave of dizziness made the world spin.
Her legs gave out, no longer able to support her weight, and her body listed uncontrollably to one side.
She could hear her own short, faint gasps for air. Cold sweat soaked the stray hairs on her forehead, sticking to her cheeks, cold and unpleasant.
Just as Isla Griffith thought she was about to crash onto the cold stone pavement, a rough but warm, strong hand steadied her arm.
Immediately after, another hand supported her back, firmly holding her teetering body upright.
The faint scent of soap nuts wafted over. Isla forced her pained eyes open. Through her blurry vision, she saw an elderly woman with graying hair and a kind face.
Granny Foster saw that the young woman’s face was deathly pale, her lips colorless, and her body terribly weak.
"Oh my, dear, what’s wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"
Leaning on Granny Foster for support, Isla took a long moment to recover before she could manage to speak. Her voice was weak and hoarse. "Thank you, ma’am. I’m a little dizzy."
Granny Foster helped her to a stone stool under a tree.
"I don’t recognize you, dear. You’re not from Avenia, are you? Just passing through?"
Isla nodded weakly.
Granny Foster looked at her with pity. "You’re so weak right now, you could faint at any moment. It’s not safe for you to travel at night. Dear, if you don’t mind, why don’t you come to my house to rest a bit? Have something warm to eat, and you can leave once you’ve recovered."
Isla wanted to refuse. They were complete strangers; she didn’t want to trouble the old woman.
But her body refused to cooperate. The dizziness and fatigue hadn’t lessened at all. She was drained of all strength, on the verge of collapse.
Looking at the granny’s kind eyes and gentle face, the defenses around her heart began to crumble.
"Thank you, Granny. I’m sorry to trouble you."
Granny Foster smiled warmly. "It’s no trouble at all, just setting another place at the table. The people of Avenia are kind-hearted. Anyone else who found you today would have done the same."
「...」
With Granny Foster’s help, Isla Griffith entered a small farmhouse courtyard.
The yard wasn’t large, but it was neat and tidy.
In the corner was a square vegetable patch with green vegetables growing. Dried corn cobs and red chili peppers hung from the eaves, giving the place a homey, lived-in feel.
Inside, Granny Foster helped Isla to a wooden chair by the window.
A charcoal brazier was burning in the room. Warmth instantly enveloped her cold body, chasing away much of the chill.
Granny Foster went into the inner room and came back with a clean, light cotton jacket that smelled of sunshine, which she draped over Isla’s shoulders.
The jacket was thick and soft. As it enveloped her thin frame, warmth seeped slowly into her skin.
"It gets chilly at night. You should wear something warmer."
As she spoke, Granny Foster turned and went to the kitchen to pour a cup of hot water, which she handed to Isla.
"Drink some hot water to warm your stomach. You’ll feel better once your body warms up."
"Thank you, Granny."
Isla cupped the warm mug. A bit of feeling finally returned to her fingertips, the heat traveling from her palms to her heart.
She sipped the hot water, and the dryness in her throat gradually eased.
Watching the old woman bustle about, she felt her eyes begin to burn.
Granny Foster didn’t ask Isla where she came from, where she was going, or why she was alone and so exhausted.
The old woman simply went into the kitchen and got to work. The soft clatter of pots and pans, the sound of chopping vegetables, and the CRACKLE of burning firewood drifted from the kitchen.
In less than half an hour, a steaming bowl of egg drop noodle soup, accompanied by a small dish of refreshing pickled radishes, was placed in front of Isla.
The noodles were hand-pulled by Granny Foster, chewy and smooth. The broth was rich and savory, and two perfect poached eggs rested on top, steam curling up from the bowl.
"Eat up while it’s hot. You’ll get your strength back once you have a full stomach." Granny Foster sat beside her, watching Isla with a kind expression, her eyes full of pity.
Isla asked gratefully, "Granny, where’s your bowl?"
Granny Foster smiled. "At my age, a bit of soup is enough for me at night. I don’t eat main courses. You go ahead and eat, dear. Don’t worry about me."
Isla was already famished. Staring at the hot noodle soup, she choked out, "Thank you, Granny."
With that, she picked up her chopsticks and began to eat in small bites.
The warm noodles slid into her stomach, dispelling the discomfort of her emptiness.
This single mouthful of hot food was more comforting than any delicacy she had ever eaten.
As she ate, tears began to fall uncontrollably into her bowl.
Isla quickly lowered her head, secretly wiping her tears away, and forced herself to calmly finish the noodles.
Granny Foster saw her reaction but didn’t say a word.
While Isla ate, the old woman observed her with kind eyes.
’This girl’s face is pale, without a hint of color. She instinctively cradles her stomach when she walks. Combined with her exhaustion and weakness, this is definitely more than just low blood sugar.’
Granny Foster had lived a long life and seen a great deal. She had a pretty good idea of what was going on. ’The poor girl has likely just had a miscarriage.’
The old woman sighed inwardly. Without a word, she got up and went to the storage room in the back.
From a wooden box, she took out dried red dates, longans, and a small packet of astragalus and dong quai—medicinal herbs known to replenish qi and blood, very effective for a woman’s recovery after a miscarriage.
Granny Foster took the herbs to the kitchen, washed them carefully, wrapped them in a clean piece of cheesecloth, and put them in a small clay pot with a piece of brown sugar and some water to simmer slowly.
The pot simmered over a low flame, and the medicinal aroma, mixed with the sweet scent of red dates, gradually filled the room.
Sitting in the main room, Isla smelled the faint medicinal scent and felt a flicker of confusion, but she was too embarrassed to ask about it.
Before long, Granny Foster came out with a bowl of warm broth. Red dates and longans floated in the mellow-colored liquid.
"Dear, I made you a sweet soup. Drink it up. It will warm your body, and your stomach won’t hurt as much."
Isla took the bowl, and looking into the granny’s kind, concerned eyes, she understood everything in an instant.
’The old woman must have realized what was wrong with me. She was just being considerate of my feelings by not saying it out loud.’
Clutching the bowl, Isla could no longer hold back her tears. They rolled down her cheeks, one after another, splashing into the soup.
"Granny..." she sobbed, unable to form a complete sentence, only endless gratitude surging in her heart.
Granny Foster gently patted her back, as if comforting a wronged child.
"Silly child, don’t cry. Everyone has hardships in life. You just have to get through them, and things will be okay."
"Your body is your own. No matter what happens, you have to take good care of it. Now, drink your soup and get a good night’s sleep here. Whatever it is, we can talk about it tomorrow."
Isla nodded, wiped her tears, and drank the warm soup in small sips.
The sweet taste, laced with a faint medicinal scent, slid down her throat, and a warmth spread through her entire body.
The dragging pain in Isla’s lower abdomen gradually subsided. She looked up at Granny Foster, her eyes red, filled with an indescribable emotion.
Outside, the night had grown deeper. The evening in Avenia was quiet and peaceful, and the room was filled with a soft, warm light.
In that moment, Isla’s tightly wound nerves finally relaxed. Beside this kind stranger, she felt a sense of security she hadn’t known in a long time.
Granny Foster prepared the inner room, fitting the bed with a brand-new, clean sheet and duvet cover.
After finishing her soup, Isla stood up, wanting to help Granny Foster tidy up, but the old woman waved her off.
"You’re too weak. Don’t worry about this. I’ll have it done in a moment."
The inner room wasn’t large, but it was simply and neatly furnished, spotlessly clean.
An old-fashioned wooden bed stood against the wall, covered with a clean, blue-flowered sheet and a thick, folded cotton quilt that smelled of sunshine and faint soap nuts.
By the window was a wooden desk with a few books, a lamp, a teacup, a water kettle, and an alarm clock.
The wardrobe in the corner was also old-fashioned, its wood grain worn smooth, radiating the gentle patina of age.
"You can sleep in here tonight, dear. The lock on the door works. If you feel unwell during the night, just call out. I’ll be in the next room, I’ll hear you."
Granny Foster then brought out a new blanket and placed it at the foot of the bed.
"If you get cold, use the blanket. Don’t catch a chill. In a little while, I’ll bring you a hot water bottle. It’ll keep your belly warm so you can sleep comfortably."
Isla looked around the small room. The warm yellow light touched every corner. There were no luxurious decorations, but every detail exuded a sense of comfort and warmth.
The granny’s attentive care especially, treating her like family, filled Isla’s heart with warmth and emotion. ’I swear I will repay this kind old woman someday,’ she vowed.
"Granny, thank you so, so much."
"Don’t mention it." Granny Foster smiled, the wrinkles at the corners of her eyes crinkling, making her look exceptionally kind.
"Everyone falls on hard times. Helping out when you can is a way of earning good karma."
"It’s getting late. You should rest. I won’t disturb you any longer."
With that, Granny Foster turned to leave, gently closing the door behind her.
Isla walked slowly to the bed, her fingers lightly brushing over the soft quilt and blanket.
She lay down, pulling the covers around her weary body. Her tense nerves finally unwound, and her eyelids grew heavy. Before long, she was asleep.
Isla slept more soundly than she had in a long time—no nightmares, no terror, only a profound sense of peace.
When she woke up, the sky was just beginning to lighten. The morning sun filtered through the window lattice, and the faint aroma of congee drifted through the air.
Isla rubbed her eyes, got up, straightened her clothes, and pushed open the door.
Granny Foster was busy in the yard, crouching by the vegetable patch to pick fresh greens. A wisp of smoke curled from the kitchen chimney, and the smell of congee grew stronger.
Hearing the noise, Granny Foster turned and waved with a smile.
"You’re awake! Come wash up. I’ve made some millet congee and steamed buns in the kitchen. They’re almost ready."
Isla stood in the courtyard. The morning air in Avenia was fresh. The distant mountains were veiled in a thin layer of mist, and the faint sounds of footsteps and voices drifted from the alleyways, painting a scene of peace and tranquility.
Watching the granny’s busy figure, she thought, ’As soon as I feel a little better, I need to leave right away.’
’My arrival was an accident. I don’t want to bring trouble to this kind old woman.’
During the meal, Granny Foster still didn’t ask about Isla’s past, simply chatting leisurely about the trivial matters of Avenia.
"The people of Avenia are good-natured. The neighbors here are like family. If someone’s in trouble, everyone pitches in to help, no questions asked."
Isla hummed softly in agreement, listening quietly with a faint smile on her lips.
Granny Foster placed a peeled egg in her bowl and continued the conversation, mentioning her old neighbor next door.
"We’ve been the best of friends our whole lives. Her granddaughter grew up here in Avenia. She’s so pretty, the most beautiful girl in town. And she has such a wonderful personality—polite and loved by all."
Speaking of Wren Sutton, Granny Foster’s eyes filled with a gentle smile, and her expression grew even kinder.
"When Nina was little, she used to wear two little pigtails. Her eyes were so bright and pretty. The little girl would often come to my yard to chase butterflies and pick wildflowers."
"So many years have passed in a flash. The Claire of back then is all grown up now, married with children, and has a happy family. Not long ago, she came back to Avenia with her husband, child, and parents to visit her grandmother’s grave."
Isla’s hand, holding the spoon, froze.
’Nina.’
’It can’t be that much of a coincidence. The granny’s next-door neighbor is...?’
She only knew that her best friend, Wren Sutton, had a grandmother who lived in Avenia, but she never knew which house it was.
Isla instinctively turned to look at the neighboring courtyard wall. "Granny, the person you’re talking about..."
Before she could finish, the courtyard gate was suddenly pushed open from the outside, and a young man walked in.
"Grandma."
"Finn, what are you doing back all of a sudden?" Granny Foster was pleasantly surprised. "You didn’t even call ahead."
Finn Foster walked in with a steady gait. "Grandma, don’t worry about me. I’m just here to grab something, then I’m leaving right away."
Granny Foster stood up from her chair. "What’s the rush? At least have some breakfast before you go."
Finn waved his hand. "No time. I have to get back to the city. There’s a big meeting at the company today. I came back to get my notebook. All the stuff my brother-in-law told me about last time is in there, and I need it for the meeting."
Granny Foster didn’t follow and looked confused for a second. "Which brother-in-law?"
Finn let out an "Aiya." "Who else? Wren’s husband, of course."
It was only then that he suddenly noticed a stranger in the house.
"Grandma, who is this?"