Chapter 83: This Is What Home Truly Means

Wen Xiuyi reached out and tapped Wen Yao on the forehead, sighing helplessly, “What do you mean, someone who can fly? There’s no such thing as a person who can fly in this world. I guess Da Tou just got lucky and ran into some martial arts master or something. Still, you have to admit, our Da Tou is the second male lead—he’s got some luck on his side.”

Though Wen Xiuyi spoke lightly now, he’d been scared out of his wits when he first saw Da Tou unconscious. Whether Da Tou was a character in the book or not, at this moment, he was his son, and Wen Xiuyi was his father—what kind of father wouldn’t feel pain for his child?

After speaking, Wen Xiuyi looked at the sleeping Da Tou with a mixture of tenderness and worry. Then, with a quiet joy, he said, “Did you all hear just now? Da Tou called me ‘Dad.’ Hehe, our Da Tou can speak now.”

Wen Yao snorted, reached out to touch Da Tou’s forehead, and said, “You little ingrate, I was the one who carried you back. Your foot’s still hurt, and you didn’t even call for your big sister first.”

Wen Xiuyi protested, “He should call his father first.”

Wen Yao glared at him, “He should call his sister first! I’m the one who takes care of him at home every day.”

“Dad first.”

“Sister first.”

Wen Jun, tired of their childish bickering, checked Da Tou’s temperature again, tucked him in, and then headed out with the medicine to the kitchen to start boiling it. Once the medicine was on the stove, he’d have to go back and move their family’s things.

By late afternoon, Wen Nong returned by himself, pushing the cart loaded with empty buckets and basins, along with the meat, intestines, and pig’s head that Butcher Zheng had sent for the next day’s sale.

He had gone first to Wen Xiuyi’s house, but finding it locked, he pushed the cart back to the old family home.

“Uncle, how’s Da Tou?” Wen Nong asked.

Wen Xiuyi climbed up and down, checking things, and pointed to the house, “He’s in your grandparents’ room.”

Wen Nong brushed off the dust, worked his sore arms, and said, “Uncle, you handle things here—I’m going to check on Da Tou.” With that, he slipped away.

“Hey, you haven’t even told me if you managed on your own...” Wen Xiuyi called after him from the cart, but Wen Nong had already disappeared.

“Little rascal,” Wen Xiuyi muttered, resigning himself to finish the work.

Wen Nong crept carefully to the door, craning his neck to peek inside, worried he might wake Da Tou if he was sleeping.

To his surprise, he saw Da Tou sitting on the kang, with some kind of cloth tied around his head by Wen Yao, eating porridge fed to him by her.

Wen Nong let out a breath of relief and, emboldened, stepped inside.

“How are you feeling, Da Tou?” Wen Nong asked.

Wen Yao smiled and cast an encouraging glance at Da Tou, who turned to Wen Nong and called out, “Second Brother.”

“Hey!” Wen Nong, younger than Wen Jun and called “Second Brother” by all the children, responded automatically. Then he stared wide-eyed at Da Tou.

“He—he can… Da Tou, he…” Wen Nong’s face was lit with delight. He spun around and ran out, shouting, “Grandpa! Grandma! Uncle! Da Tou can talk! He just called me Second Brother!”

The busy Wen family members in the yard: “...”

No one even stopped what they were doing, not even sparing him a glance.

Wen Nong was indignant. “Seriously, Da Tou spoke! He just called me brother!”

“So what if he did? Why are you making such a fuss? Don’t you see your uncle is swamped? Why are you still standing here? Go help out!” Mrs. Li appeared behind Wen Nong, gave him a kick as she spoke, and marched off with a huff. After all, the eldest brother’s family were now the bringers of fortune.

“Uncle, I’m telling you, Da Tou can talk now,” Wen Nong grumbled, dissatisfied with everyone’s indifferent reaction.

Wen Xiuyi didn’t even look up. “We all know already. By the way, did you manage all right after I left today?”

Wen Xiuyi had been called away just after noon, but a number of customers still came for fried rice during the staggered lunch hours. When he heard Da Tou had fallen into the water, he dropped everything and ran, not even bothering to take off his apron, leaving Wen Nong to handle the rest.

Wen Nong had little choice but to take over, worried for Da Tou but unable to leave the stall unattended—except for Liuzi, who could only help out but not cook. Wen Nong had to grit his teeth, apologize to customers, and try his best to cook the fried rice himself.

At first, he could only handle one bowl at a time, but after some encouragement, he managed two portions at once. By evening, he was more or less able to handle things on his own.

Though not as efficient as Wen Xiuyi, he was steady and avoided mistakes. Plus, having learned from Wen Xiuyi how to deal with people, he made sure to smile at those who waited the longest and often threw in a small side dish—pickled vegetables or radishes, which his grandmother made in abundance.

After Wen Nong finished his report, Wen Xiuyi patted him on the shoulder, satisfied. “Not bad, not bad. Soon you’ll be able to manage by yourself. If I ever stop, you could run the stall on your own.”

Wen Nong panicked at that, blurting, “Uncle, no, I can’t do it.”

“You’ll find out when the time comes. You did well today, didn’t you? By the way—the money?” Wen Xiuyi extended his hand, eyeing the boy, wondering if he’d forgotten to collect payment after all that work.

Wen Nong hurried to the cart, crouched down, and fished around underneath for a while before producing a money pouch.

Wen Xiuyi’s mouth twitched.

Wen Nong handed over the pouch, explaining, “I didn’t dare keep so much money on me, but I was afraid of losing it, so I tied it under the cart—hehe.”

Inside the pouch, the coins were strung together in groups of a hundred. Though not as much as Wen Xiuyi usually made, there were still four or five strings and some loose change.

Wen Xiuyi took out three strings of coins and shoved them into Wen Nong’s hand. “Yours. Today’s reward.” The rest, he stowed away, intending to hand them over to the family’s little treasurer.

Wen Nong stared blankly at the three hundred coins.

“Uncle, I—I can't take this.”

Wen Xiuyi waved him off without turning around. “You earned it yourself today. Take it.”

Mrs. Luo glanced at him as well, adding, “If your uncle gives it to you, take it.” She looked again at Wen Xiuyi’s back—her eldest son had truly changed.

Wen Nong felt a surge of joy at this windfall, but before he could enjoy it, Mrs. Li appeared, snatching the coins from his hand.

“Mother will keep this safe for you. For when you get married.” Without giving him a chance to protest, she happily walked off, counting the money.

Wen Nong was stunned.

He hadn’t even warmed the coins in his hand.

“Mom, at least let me keep a bit!” he wailed, chasing after her with a mournful face.

Inside, Wen Xiuyi and Wen Yao couldn’t help but smile at the lively commotion outside.

This was what a family ought to be—just as a family should.