Chapter 34: A Visit Alone

As soon as the two brothers stepped into the house, Mrs. Luo blocked their way.

"Why are you back so late?"

The brothers hurriedly set down their baskets and, talking over each other, rattled off all that had happened that day.

The longer Mrs. Luo listened, the deeper her frown grew.

"So, you're telling me he actually set up a stall at the dock, and business was good?" Mrs. Luo sounded doubtful.

The brothers nodded vigorously.

"It’s true, Mother," Wen Xiuzhu said. "There was a constant stream of people at noon. Big Brother sold over a bucketful of the food he brought just during the lunch rush. And that braised meat Yao Yao gave us yesterday sold out in no time—ten copper coins for a small plate, and everyone was scrambling for it!"

Hearing this, Mrs. Luo fell silent.

She’d sent the second and third boys to check on their eldest brother because she found his recent transformation hard to believe. Yet, astonishingly, his words had proven true.

If the eldest truly had turned over a new leaf, perhaps it was a blessing after all.

"Enough, I’ve heard you. Off you go, back to your chores," Mrs. Luo said, ready to leave.

"Mother," Wen Xiuzhu quickly called, taking out the meat Wen Jun had bought from the basket and handing it to the old woman. "Big Brother sent this home for you."

Looking at the hefty piece of meat, Mrs. Luo felt a surge of complicated emotions.

"The boy’s such a spendthrift—just made a little money and already squandering it," she said coldly.

The brothers shrank their necks, having already tried to refuse the meat, but it was no use; their big brother simply wouldn’t take no for an answer.

"Mother, what should I do with the meat then?" Wen Xiuzhu mustered the courage to ask.

"Hang it in the kitchen. Tonight, slice some for the children so they can have a taste of meat," Mrs. Luo replied, her tone much softer.

"Alright." Wen Xiuzhu took the meat away, and Wen Xiuqing stepped forward. "Oh, Mother, Yao Yao asked me to tell you to please collect more eggs. They use dozens every day, and it’s not enough."

Mrs. Luo frowned. "So much trouble. Fine, I know, I’ll take care of it."

"I’ll go see if Second Brother needs help," Wen Xiuqing called as he dashed off.

Mrs. Luo had intended to return to her room, but after a moment’s thought, she turned and headed outside instead.

She made a round of the village, arranging with a few trusted neighbors to send eggs to the old house that evening, then made her way to Yao Yao’s place.

She was just at the gate when she heard the sound of reading from the courtyard. Peering in, Mrs. Luo saw Bighead sitting on a small stool, with Yao Yao facing him, reading aloud from a book.

Mrs. Luo watched Bighead for a while. The child listened intently but didn’t utter a word. With a sigh, she pushed the gate open.

The reading stopped abruptly, and the siblings jumped to their feet at the sight of her.

"Grandma, what brings you here?" Yao Yao hurried over and looped her arm through the old woman’s.

Mrs. Luo glanced at the book in her hand, raising an eyebrow. "What are you up to?"

Yao Yao grinned, waving the book. "Teaching Bighead to read. Grandma, why are you here now?"

Mrs. Luo said nothing more. Both Yao Yao and Wen Jun had been raised by Liu. Since childhood, Liu had taught the siblings to read and write. If not for Wen Xiuyi’s foolishness, theirs would have been the most accomplished branch of the Wen family.

But there was no point dwelling on the past. She no longer hoped her eldest son would make his mark through scholarship—she only wished he’d live decently and quietly, raising his three children in peace.

She glanced toward the kitchen, then shot Yao Yao a stern look. "If I didn’t come, who would help you handle all this mess?"

Yao Yao cheered, hugging the old woman’s arm and cooing, "Grandma, you’re the best grandma in the world!"

Mrs. Luo couldn’t bear such cloying affection and, thoroughly exasperated, shook her off and marched to the kitchen.

Yao Yao trailed after her, handing the book to Bighead. "Practice on your own—just the few characters I taught you. Learn them well."

Bighead nodded obediently and sat back on the small stool, using a stick to trace characters on the ground.

Mrs. Luo took all this in. "Can he understand?"

"Of course," Yao Yao replied. "He learns every character Father teaches him in one go." Their Bighead was clever—called a genius in the original story, with an incredible memory. Apart from making his background and experiences somewhat tragic, the author had crafted a rather charming character.

If she hadn’t happened to catch him secretly writing with a twig, Yao Yao never would have guessed how quickly he learned.

Mrs. Luo was amazed, but seeing Bighead sit so silently, she sighed again.

What good is intelligence if you can’t speak? Fate can be so cruel.

"When your father earns some money, don’t let him spend it frivolously. Find a time to take Bighead to see a doctor about his throat," Mrs. Luo said, entering the kitchen.

Yao Yao watched her grandmother’s retreating figure, suddenly wondering if the old lady had placed the hopes she once had for Wen Xiuyi onto Bighead instead.

If so, she could only say her grandmother had sharp eyes.

But Bighead would speak eventually—the time just hadn’t come. She wasn’t worried in the least, but she still responded dutifully.

"Yes, once we’ve saved enough, we’ll take him."

It was unlikely any doctor would be able to help, but if it made the old woman happy, then so be it.

Mrs. Luo helped Yao Yao wash the pig’s head and intestines and even sliced them to be braised before she was ready to leave.

This time, no matter what Yao Yao said, she refused to take anything—no talk of family, of eating meat every day.

When she returned home, Mrs. Li was already in the kitchen, knife in hand, slicing the meat hung there.

…

Back in her room, Mrs. Luo couldn’t help muttering to Old Man Wen, who sat puffing on his pipe, listening to her grumbling until he could bear it no longer.

"Do you ever stop?" he complained. "When things were bad, you nagged day and night. Now he’s changed, doing well, living properly, and you’re still at it!"

Mrs. Luo paused for a moment, then hurled her shoe sole at him, her voice rising. "What did you say?"

Old Man Wen nimbly dodged, slipped off the kang, and put on his shoes in one fluid motion. He knew better than to stay—best to make himself scarce.

As he left the room, Mrs. Luo’s scolding followed him out. He looked up to see everyone in the courtyard staring at him. Instantly, he straightened his back.

"What are you all looking at? Finished your work already?"

Everyone quickly busied themselves.

Only then did Old Man Wen mutter under his breath, "That old hag," and slip away, pipe in hand, ambling out the door.

As he wandered, the delicious smell of braised meat drifted through the air—Yao Yao’s handiwork from earlier. His feet carried him toward it almost of their own accord.

When Yao Yao and Bighead paused their lesson and saw the old man enter, Yao Yao simply pressed the book into Bighead’s hands and went to meet him.

The old man and old woman always seemed to take turns showing up.