Elena had sharp eyes. She recognized the boy immediately—it was the one who had traded the loaches to her earlier. Since dinner was over and she was free, she walked straight over. "Looking for me?"

  Marco had it all planned out. He’d use returning the wooden basin as an excuse to ask if he could trade his wild eggs for two more candies. If two was too many, one would do.

  Sofia had tasted the sweetness, but their big brother hadn't. Marco wanted his brother to have a treat too.

  But standing there, the words got stuck in his throat. He felt like he was pushing his luck. He’d seen fried eggs on their dinner table; candy was precious, and they already had eggs. Why would they want his tiny wild eggs? Did they think they could get a better deal just because the eggs were small?

  However, the urge to get his brother a candy won out. Marco reached out his hand. "Can I trade wild eggs for candy? I'm not greedy—just one is enough."

  A regular egg cost 7 Pesos now. Wild eggs were smaller but should be worth at least 5 Pesos. That could buy a small handful of peppermints. But if he took a single wild egg to the purchasing station, nobody would even look at it.

  "I don't have any candy. The candy we used for the loaches belongs to another soldier," Elena said truthfully. She had planned to bring some, but her sister Octavia had stolen and eaten every bit of it before she left.

  Actually, Elena had done it as a test to see if history would repeat itself. Five years ago, Octavia had stolen the cheap rice balls Elena had prepared for her journey. It seemed some things never changed.

  Marco’s face fell, and he started to pull his hand back.

  "But, if you can find ten wild eggs, I’ll give you 50 Pesos. You can buy a lot of candy at the supply store with that." Elena wanted those eggs.

  They were small, but an egg was an egg—it was pure nutrition. Right now, Elena wanted anything that could nourish her body.

  In her past life, she had been a fool. She’d starved and suffered in the countryside, yet the moment her mother wrote a letter crying about being poor, she’d brainlessly sent her entire salary home. Not this time.

  Marco’s eyes lit up. A wild egg was worth 5 Pesos? What about a bird? "I have a wild pheasant. Do you want it?"

  Elena’s brow furrowed slightly. Wild eggs were easy to hide, but a whole pheasant? Impossible. In a crowded military camp with strict management and gossiping mouths, she couldn't hide a bird. Marco was just a kid acting on impulse, but she couldn't let him walk into a trap.

  This was a period of military administration post-war, and the whole country was under nighttime curfew. Everything belonged to the state. Private hunting or fishing could get you sentenced by a military court. Only "pests" like the overabundant loaches were fair game.

  The newly established nation was strict, and it was even harsher here at the border camp.

  Elena knew there was a thin line of humanity within that harshness. If you caught a pheasant in private and no one saw you eat or sell it, the officers would usually turn a blind eye. But if you were caught selling it for profit? That was a serious problem.

  It was called "illegal disposal of state assets."

  Though she had bonded with her roommates over the last two days, she knew better than to trust blindly. You can't judge a person’s heart in forty-eight hours. Elena wouldn't use her memories from her past life as her only judgment for the present.

  Most importantly, she had Sienna watching her like a hawk. That girl could stir up a storm in a tea-kettle; Elena had to be on guard.

  Sure enough, Marco regretted his words the moment they left his mouth. But he couldn't show fear now, so he kept his eyes fixed on Elena.

  "I only want the wild eggs. Bring those, and I’ll pay you," Elena said. She craved meat too, but until her safety was guaranteed, she would suppress that hunger.

  Marco grit his teeth and nodded. He was scared, but he didn't let it show. As he turned to leave, Elena called him back.

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  She went inside, grabbed the cleaned wooden basin, and filled it with a bowl of soup. "This is loach soup. Take it home and try it. Consider it a thank-you gift for trading with us today."

  Seeing the seven-year-old so frail and gaunt, Elena felt a pang of heartache.

  Besides, Elena truly felt they had gotten the better end of the deal, trading two Pesos worth of candy for that whole basin of loaches.

  She knew that while people looked down on loaches now, in a few years—once the economy rebounded—people would crave these "natural, feed-free" ingredients. Under the banner of "health food," the price would skyrocket.

  Marco looked at the soup, wanting to refuse. But the broth was milky white, with bits of tender loach meat floating in it. It didn't smell muddy at all.

  Actually, it smelled incredible.

  Marco never imagined loach soup could be so appetizing. He wanted to take it back for Sofia.

  Elena placed the basin in his hands. "When you bring the loaches tomorrow, remember to bring my bowl back."

  The support troops were poor back then; they often used their lunchbox lids as plates. This bowl was her personal property. Once it was returned, she’d definitely sanitize it with boiling water. She pitied the kid, but she was still terrified of catching something like Hepatitis.

  When Elena returned, Anita mentioned the boy was the one from the afternoon. Luis and the others were curious.

  "He seems to be the leader of the local kids. Giving him a bowl of soup means he’ll help us if we ever need more loaches," Elena explained.

  Anita’s eyes widened. "If I knew he was the boss, I would’ve given him two more candies."

  An capable adult earned respect, and a capable child could earn a little extra through their own merit.

  Elena blinked. If she had known Anita was so casual with her candy, she would have asked earlier. But the boy was gone now; she’d handle it next time.

  Marco arrived home with the wild eggs still in his hand but a bowl of soup in the basin. Roan frowned, his disapproval clear.

  He didn't like his brother taking handouts.

  "The sister said it was a thank-you gift," Marco said sheepishly. He’d done two stupid things today: first, he’d let it slip that they had a pheasant, and second, he’d brought this soup home.

  But it was already here.

  Roan didn't force him to take it back. He poured the soup out, dividing it between Sofia and Marco. Then, he went to the kitchen and scrubbed the basin clean with hot water before sitting down to his own meal.

  Looking at the small portion of milky-white broth at his side, and then at Marco—who was looking everywhere except at him—Roan decided to remain silent.

  He took a sip. His eyebrows arched slightly. It’s actually quite fresh. How did she make this? He found himself wanting to learn.

  "Big brother, this soup is delicious!" Sofia had been given the most, including all the loach meat. She was carefully picking out the bones.

  Actually, the meat in the soup had mostly dissolved. The real treat was the fried or braised loaches—crispy and fragrant. But even picking through the tiny bones for a bit of meat was a feast for Sofia.

  Roan’s heart ached for his sister. "If you like it, I’ll try to make it for you another day."

  Sofia nodded obediently. Catching loaches was easy; they were everywhere in the fields. If you had the time to catch them, no one cared because nobody else ate them.

  Later that night, when Roan heard about Marco’s slip of the tongue, his gaze instantly turned sharp and lethal. Marco lowered his head, knowing he had messed up.

  "Forget it this time. Watch your mouth next time. Don't make the same mistake twice," Roan sighed, seeing his brother’s guilt. He patted the boy’s shoulder.

  He could only hope this female soldier wasn't some overzealous patriot looking to score points by reporting them.

  If she dared to breathe a word, he would make her regret ever coming to Solana.