Chapter 12: Pretending Not to Understand

Fortunately, there was no one at the entrance of the village at that time; otherwise, with such a cartload of goods, they would surely have become the subject of gossip. Precisely because of concerns like this, the three of them had slowed their pace, timing their return so that they reached home just as night fell.

Before they could even step inside, the front gate swung open from within. A man who bore a striking resemblance to Wen Xiuyi—at least seven or eight points similar—stood in the doorway, staring, utterly dumbfounded by the sight of their cart. For a moment, he even forgot to greet them.

“Second Uncle?” Wen Yao called, snapping Wen Xiuzhu out of his stupor.

Wen Xiuzhu blinked at them, rubbing his eyes as if unsure of what he was seeing.

Peering out from behind the cart, Wen Xiuyi addressed his somewhat slow-witted younger brother, “Why are you just standing there? Come help us, quick.”

“Ah—” Wen Xiuzhu finally came to his senses and hurried forward to help his brother push the cart inside, with Wen Yao following closely behind, shutting the door with a soft thud.

Of course, whether the door was closed or not didn’t make much difference.

“Big Brother, did you go to that place again?” Wen Xiuzhu frowned at the pile of goods. His first thought was that Wen Xiuyi had been gambling again and, having struck it lucky, had bought all this with his winnings. How else could they possibly afford it?

Wen Xiuyi knew exactly what “that place” referred to, but he offered no explanation. His gaze swept over the newly organized kitchen—the stove was fixed, and though there were no walls, they’d built a shed, so at least it was protected from the sun and rain.

“Oh, the kitchen is done! Thank you for your hard work. I bought some meat—later, take some for the kids at home as a treat,” Wen Xiuyi said as he began unloading the cart. “Yao, Xiao Jun, come help get these things inside.”

Wen Xiuzhu stared at him, half-convinced his ears were playing tricks on him.

Did his brother just say he’d bought meat? And told him to take some home for the children as a treat?

Was this really his brother?

He watched as the family of three began carrying things inside, and quickly moved to help. Once everything was moved into the makeshift kitchen, Wen Xiuzhu hesitated, then pulled Wen Xiuyi aside.

“Big Brother, I have to say, our parents have patched up your messes so many times. Can’t you change? Even for the sake of the three kids—since Sister-in-law is gone—if you don’t pull yourself together, those children are truly doomed.”

Wen Xiuyi cursed his luck inwardly before replying, “I didn’t gamble. I’m done with gambling, for good. From now on, I’ll just live a decent life with the three children.”

“What?” Wen Xiuzhu had expected to be scolded for meddling, as in the past. The unexpected response caught him off guard.

Perhaps he was still groggy from sleep, to hear such words of conscience from his brother’s mouth.

“Enough,” Wen Xiuyi gave him a shove. “The past is past. By the way, how much did it cost to fix the kitchen today?”

Successfully led off course, Wen Xiuzhu replied, “About twenty or thirty coins. We didn’t have any materials at home, so Father went around the village to collect some. The third brother and I finished it in a day. Big Brother, you really won’t gamble again?”

Wen Xiuyi shot him a glare. “I said I’m done, and I mean it. Mention it again and I’ll give you a beating.”

Wen Xiuzhu instinctively shrank his neck, and Wen Xiuyi burst out laughing before turning back to sort through the items.

They’d bought twenty catties of rice, twenty catties of flour, oil, salt, sauce, vinegar, and five catties of meat—altogether spending more than four hundred coins. For fried rice, they’d need a handled wok, so they’d also placed an order at the blacksmith’s, which would cost another hundred coins when they picked it up tomorrow. Add in the money for renting a stall and buying buckets and basins, and the day’s earnings from selling herbs were almost entirely gone.

Still, at least they’d found a way to make a steady living. No matter how the business went, they’d at least have food for themselves and wouldn’t starve.

Wen Xiuyi cut off a strip of meat, about two catties, and took a fist-sized jar from the cart, inhaling its scent with an air of intoxication and satisfaction.

Wine. It was not as good as modern liquor, but still, it had its charm.

But Professor Wen had been sober for many years; a whiff would suffice. Besides, he needed this to smooth things over with the family at the old house.

“Let’s go see Father and Mother. I have something to discuss with them,” Wen Xiuyi said, heading out with his things, reminding Wen Yao to prepare dinner so he could eat upon his return.

The eldest child, who had been playing at the doorway, immediately stuffed his clay figure into his arms and toddled after Wen Xiuyi on his short legs.

Wen Xiuzhu instinctively reached out to pick up the child, only to see him avoid his grasp and run straight to Wen Xiuyi.

What in the world?

Wouldn’t the boy just get scolded for tagging along?

Instead, Wen Xiuyi, grinning, handed his things to Wen Xiuzhu and scooped the child up into his arms.

Wen Xiuzhu wanted to rub his eyes, but his hands were full, so he could only stare in shock at the father and son.

The little one cocked his head at him, puzzled.

Good heavens—was this really his brother?

The boy was nearly four, and this was the first time Wen Xiuzhu had ever seen his older brother pick him up.

It was all too strange—everything was just too strange.

“It must be a hallucination,” Wen Xiuzhu muttered, shaking his head as he followed along.

At the old house, Mrs. Li heard voices outside and assumed her husband had returned. She opened the door, only to see Wen Xiuyi standing there with the child in his arms.

Her smile froze, caught awkwardly between amusement and discomfort.

“Big Brother is here,” she announced firmly, her voice rising.

The conversation in the courtyard fell silent.

Behind Wen Xiuyi, Wen Xiuzhu was still dazed, clutching the wine and the meat. When he saw Mrs. Li blocking the doorway, he frowned. “Why are you just standing there?”

Mrs. Li kept giving him meaningful looks.

“What’s wrong with your eyes?” Wen Xiuzhu asked, bewildered.

Mrs. Li said nothing.

Feigning ignorance of her signals, Wen Xiuyi asked, “Are Father and Mother home?”

“They’re here… I suppose,” Mrs. Li said warily.

She could have just said yes or no, but “I suppose” made it clear she was afraid he’d come in to ask for favors.

Though he wasn’t here for that today, he was determined to enter the house.

He surreptitiously patted his son's bottom and whispered in his ear, “Son, it’s up to you now.”

The child instantly understood, slipped down from his arms, and darted past Mrs. Li through the door—too quick for her to stop.

Not that she had any reason to, since it was only the little one.

Once inside, the child ignored everyone and ran straight to Mrs. Luo, tugging her sleeve and pointing insistently toward the door.

After a moment, Mrs. Luo spoke in a low voice, “Let the second family in.”

She was eager to see what he was up to this time. But no matter what he said, she resolved, she would not be soft-hearted again.