Chapter Bonanza (3/5)

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On the way to Cuilin Town, Tang Xianling felt the journey was interminably long, but on the way back, it seemed as though they were home in the blink of an eye.

It was just that strange.

When Tang Xianling saw the towering city gates of Fengyuan City, a look of contentment and relief spread across his face. “We’re home. That was pretty quick.”

They had to get off the carriage to pass through the gate. Tang Xianling helped his mother down, and the two took the opportunity to stretch their legs. After their household registration was verified, the soldiers at the gate let them through, and they got back on the carriage.

Jiang Yun couldn’t sit still any longer and said to Wu-ger, “Why don’t you drop us off at the entrance to the alley? We’ll walk back so the coachman doesn’t have to go through all that trouble.”

“Sounds good.” Tang Xianling nodded. After all, it was just a short walk into the alley, and a bit of exercise would do them good. Besides, Tieniu would have the mule carry the large bundle.

When they reached the alley entrance, neighbors in the neighborhood greeted them warmly: “Aunt Jiang and Wu-ger are back?” 

“Where have you been?” 

“Did you have a safe journey?” 

“Old Man Cui has been coming by your house every day.”

Some of them knew where she’d been, but asking like this was a way to keep the conversation going.

Jiang Yun replied, “Yes, I went to Cuilin Town to visit my second daughter.” But she didn’t elaborate; after all, everything was fine.

Tang Xianling, however, turned to the neighbor who’d mentioned Old Man Cui visiting his house daily and said, “I know. Before I left, I asked Cui Dabao to keep an eye on things.”

“Is your family starting construction? I’ve heard the work hasn’t been finished for several days now.”

This was a rhetorical question; the whole neighborhood knew that Mr. Tang was renovating his shop to turn it into a restaurant. Tang Xianling nodded, “I’m back now, so construction will pick up soon. I’ll probably be pretty busy.”

They chatted all the way back, taking nearly half an hour to walk down the short alley.

Tang Xianling didn’t mind the delay, though. Having just returned from Cuilin Town, seeing his neighbors in the neighborhood was a pleasant sight—except for the Zhao family. Their child was staring right at him; when Tang Xianling looked back, the boy across the way was the first to look away.

Hmph. Master Tang had won a resounding victory.

The house wasn’t in disarray. The vegetable patch in the courtyard had been cleared and paved with bricks, leaving a small square of earth for planting trees. Cui Dabao and Sun Douzi were both there; Sun Douzi was in the main hall, while Cui Dabao was working in the kitchen.

When Tang Xianling returned, he saw Cui Dabao come out of the kitchen upon hearing the noise, his sleeves rolled up, with plaster dust still clinging to his face and arms. 

Tang Xianling: “You’re still doing this yourself?”

“I gave it a try—it’s simple.” Cui Dabao spoke first, then seemed to realize something and said happily, “Boss, you’re back!”

“Yeah, just got back.” Tang Xianling nodded and told Cui Dabao to take a break. Before he could finish, Douzi emerged from the main room. He was wearing a thin summer dress, and his baby bump was now quite noticeable.

No matter how many times he saw it, Tang Xianling found it miraculous. After exchanging pleasantries,

“Please, have a seat,” Tang Xianling said, quickly stopping Douzi before she could offer to fetch him a cup of water. “I’ve been riding in the carriage all the way, but I’m not tired. We’ll handle these chores. You just sit in the main room and rest for a while—don’t be so formal.”

Huangfu Tieniu first led the mule to the stable; the animal had worked hard these past few days. After that, the family chatted while unpacking their luggage.

Cui Dabao reported on the progress and mentioned that two more stove openings had been added to the kitchen. He asked the boss to take a look. He had just finished clearing out the kitchen and moving in the pots, pans, and utensils, but hadn’t quite finished tidying up yet. Fortunately, the weather had been clear and dry these past few days, making it easier to work.

The walls of the front shop were up, and the window frames facing the street had just arrived yesterday. They were installed this morning. The floor tiles were laid, the walls were plastered, and the kitchen walls were tidied up as well. However, some of the corners and edges weren’t quite dry, so as soon as he saw it, he mixed some plaster himself and gave them a coat.

It wasn’t until Tang Xianling stepped into the kitchen that he realized what Cui Dabao was up to. Does this guy have OCD or something? He even had to whitewash the cracks in the stove. Go ahead and paint, then.

Cui Dabao and his wife didn’t stay long, knowing that Mr. Tang’s family needed to settle in and rest after their return. After reporting on the work, they left. As Cui Dabao reached the door, he asked, “Should I come back tomorrow?”

From the tone of his voice, Tang Xianling could tell that Old Man Cui was planning to come over to help out.

“Sure,” he agreed immediately, adding, “If Douzi has nothing else to do, he can come find me to play.”

The couple was delighted, and both agreed. Then Cui Dabao, supporting his husband’s arm, walked them home.

Tang Xianling realized he’d forgotten to ask about Uncle Cui’s health—but judging by the couple’s current state, Uncle Cui must be recovering well. Sharing the same surname, what kind of monsters were the Cui family in Cuilin Town?

Tang Xianling didn’t voice any more complaints. He first washed up and tidied himself. The workers weren’t at the shopfront because they’d just painted the walls; they needed to let the first coat dry in the shade before applying the second, otherwise the paint would flake and crack.

He saw that the major work was mostly done; now it was just a matter of “fine-tuning” the details. There was also a “landscaped area” in his backyard that needed a good tree.

A little over an hour later, Lu Sanniang and Zou Ling from next door arrived, bringing food with them.

“My mother was worried you’d come back to a cold stove and an untidy kitchen, so she didn’t have time to cook. We brought some steamed buns and thin porridge from home, along with some pickles my sister-in-law made,” Lu Sanniang explained.

Jiang Yun didn’t refuse; she accepted the food, thanked them, and chatted for a while longer.

The reason was that before Tang Xianling left, he had also sent quite a bit of food to the Lu family—yogurt, homemade meat, six century eggs, fruits, and so on—and had asked the Lu family to keep an eye on his house.

That was just how the Lu family was—if someone gave them something, no matter how long it took, they felt they had to return the favor; otherwise, they wouldn’t feel at ease. Jiang Yun knew this, so she accepted it gladly.

Lu Sanniang and Zou Ling were both delighted and breathed a sigh of relief. Zou Ling wanted to head back, but Lu Sanniang didn’t want to leave so early; she was a bit curious about what Cuilin Town looked like.

“The roast chicken there is delicious.” Seeing Sanniang’s expression, Tang Xianling brought it up on his own, sipping the mung bean porridge the Lu family had cooked as he spoke. “It’s brushed with honey and roasted, so the skin is crispy and sweet, while the meat is tender and juicy.”

Lu Sanniang could almost taste it and said, “Then Cuilin Town must be a nice place.”

“It’s a nice place, but if you’re going to get married, you shouldn’t move far away just for the food,” Tang Xianling remarked thoughtfully. Lu Sanniang blushed with embarrassment and said, “Wu-ger, I haven’t thought about getting married.”

Seeing the young girl’s flushed, embarrassed expression, Tang Xianling decided not to pursue the topic—he’d only brought it up offhand because of Second Sister’s situation. Now, what was the point of prying further with Sanniang? So he changed the subject: “The pickles your family makes are quite delicious.”

“My sister-in-law pickles them; I think they’re delicious too,” Lu Sanniang praised.

Zou Ling said, “Actually, there’s no real secret to it. I like them crisp and a little sweet, so I add plenty of vinegar and sugar, along with a few grains of Sichuan pepper. Don’t pickle them for too long—just let them soak for two or three days and they’re ready to eat.”

After chatting for a while, the two went their separate ways.

Chen Qiaolian asked her daughter if she had delivered the message and what she had said. Lu Sanniang chatted with her mother and repeated everything Wu-ger had just told her. As she spoke, she got to the part where Wu-ger had warned her not to marry far away, and she immediately began to stammer and blush.

“…Why did you stop talking?” Chen Qiaolian looked over and, seeing her daughter’s bashful expression, was puzzled. Could something have happened next door?

Zou Ling stepped in to explain for her younger sister. Upon hearing this, Chen Qiaolian immediately smiled. “She’s grown up—she knows to feel shy about such topics. But Wu-ger is right; she certainly mustn’t marry far away.”

After a moment’s thought, she added, “For Wu-ger to say that, could it be that Erniang of the Tang family isn’t doing well?”

Zou Ling shook her head; she didn’t know about that.

Chen Qiaolian thought it was likely, and went on to urge Sanniang not to end up like Erniang, the second daughter of the Tang family next door.

After resting for two days, the days that followed were filled with orderly busyness. Tang Xianling and Tieniu headed to the West Market District, where there was a flower and plant shop. When asked what the customer wanted to see, Tang Xianling said he wanted to buy a larger tree—

He saw there wasn’t one in the shop.

The clerk replied, “We don’t have it here—that tree is too big. We have a nursery outside the city where we have all kinds of flowers, plants, and trees.” 

“So your business is quite large,” said Tang Xianling.

While choosing a tree, Tang Xianling initially had his eye on a pine, but after looking around, he changed his mind and selected a loquat tree, which would go well with the persimmon tree in the courtyard.

“You have excellent taste, sir. In the fall, the persimmon tree bears bright red fruit—a sure sign of a thriving business. The loquat tree offers a different scene from February to June; with its branches laden with golden fruit, it’s guaranteed to bring prosperity to your home.”

The salesman was quite the smooth talker. He also pointed out that the persimmon and loquat trees were a perfect match—one is vibrant and beautiful in the latter half of autumn, while the other is lovely in the first half of spring and summer, ensuring your home enjoys beautiful scenery all year round.

So Huangfu Tieniu hauled a loquat tree home.

As Tang Xianling sat on the cart’s bench, he couldn’t help but smile whenever his eyes met Tieniu’s.

“That salesman’s sweet talk was just too good—I really couldn’t help myself.” Tang Xianling swung his legs, realizing he was a bit superstitious himself, though he recalled how, back in his school days, he’d always give a thumbs-up whenever he came across a post featuring the God of Wealth.

Tieniu was smiling because he found his husband utterly adorable.

Now he teased, “Pine trees are great. They look dignified, just like me—a refined, unworldly little business owner.” Those were Tang Xianling’s exact words when they set out from home to buy the tree.

Now that Huangfu Tieniu brought it up, Tang Xianling playfully elbowed him a few times. Huangfu Tieniu, though hit, was quite pleased, and then said with a serious expression:

“I think the loquat tree is good too. We’ll have fruit to eat when we get back.”

“You’re absolutely right. Buying one is a sure profit,” Tang Xianling said happily.

Back in the courtyard, the two of them planted the loquat tree with their own hands. Huangfu Tieniu dug the hole, while Tang Xianling held the tree in place as they set it in the ground. They filled the hole with soil and watered it. Loquat fruits fell into Tang Xianling’s coat pocket, and he gave some to the Lu family and to Cui Dabao and his wife.

Buying trees and bamboo, constructing a decorative screen wall, ordering tables, chairs, and stools, replacing the shop’s sign—this time, there was no room for half-measures. They had a batch of bowls, plates, and chopsticks printed with the words “Brother Tang” fired, and there were countless other small tasks to attend to.

They worked nonstop until the 10th of the seventh month, when the restaurant was finally ready, just waiting to open for business.

As for Cui Dabao, he had already started serving breakfast—the breakfast shop was easier to set up, so he could start doing business in early July. However, he had switched to a cylindrical oven. Worried that the quality of the food might suffer, Cui Dabao spent several days baking test batches, while Tang Xianling taught him how to make jianbing and egg-stuffed pancakes.

When the 10th of July arrived, the breakfast shop opened first.

Cui Dabao arrived at four in the morning every day, walking through the front of the breakfast shop. This way, since he had a key, he could open the door himself and didn’t need the Tang family to get up and open the back gate for him. The kitchen was spacious, and everything was already set up, so Cui Dabao cooked on his own.

No one supervised him.

Jiang Yun, however, was used to getting up early and would sometimes lend a hand. Cui Dabao wouldn’t let Aunt Jiang help; he’d persuade her in every way possible to go back to sleep, otherwise his wages would start to feel a bit too hot to handle.

Father Cui arrived with one arm in a sling just as it was time to open the shop and bake the flatbreads. Father Cui handled the cash register and greeted the customers.

Suddenly, he wasn’t so nervous anymore. Cui Dabao just focused on baking the buns.

Tang Xianling took one look and frowned. Cui Dabao hurriedly explained, “I’m the one making the buns. I didn’t say anything to my father—”

“That’s not the reason. I paid you for your work. Uncle Cui came to help, saying he was supporting you, but in reality, he was working for my family.” Tang Xianling paused for a moment, then said, “Uncle Cui is still recovering.”

Cui Dabao: “Right, right. I didn’t expect him to come either, but he’s just so used to looking out for me.”

Actually, Douzi wanted to come, but he didn’t want to spend the money, so he objected. Then his father ‘just happened’ to say, “Go ahead then. Your arm’s fine—you can do the work. It’s just about getting paid, anyway.”

“Either I’ll hire a laborer to help you out, or you and your son can handle it yourselves—just don’t overwork yourselves. I’ll still give you a little extra money.”

Cui Dabao hurriedly waved his hands, insisting he didn’t need it. Father Cui added, “I didn’t do much—just collected the money and looked after things. You don’t need to pay me.” Tang Xianling paid anyway, adding the amount equivalent to a day’s wages for a laborer to Cui Dabao’s pay.

When the shop opened for breakfast, business was average for the first two days—not exactly booming—but by the third day, the foot traffic had picked up.

“Wow, it’s really open! I thought it was just another rumor.”  

“I’ve been coming to Main Street every day, just waiting for this shop to open.”

“Three steamed buns, please. I’ve been craving these.”

A few days later, the crowd grew even larger. In addition to neighbors from the local district, people from other districts began to appear, and the most frequently asked question was: “When is Mr. Tang’s restaurant opening?”

Cui Dabao, having received confirmation from the boss, replied, “It opens on the 18th of this month.”

“That’s soon.” 

“Is that for real? Can we count on your word?” 

“What a question—just look up.”

The customer looked up and saw a sign hanging above the small breakfast shop’s entrance that read: “Brother Tang’s Breakfast.”

“Oh, him? Boss Tang hired him specifically to run the breakfast service. All the shops belong to the Tang family—they’re all one big family.”

“That’s great, that’s great.”

“You have no idea. I haven’t had Mr. Tang’s cooking in over half a month. I didn’t think much of it when I ate it every day before—sometimes I even got tired of a few dishes—but after a few days away, I’ve been craving it nonstop. My appetite’s gone.”

“Same here. I used to hate cold eggplant salad and only wanted sweet-and-sour spare ribs, but with Mr. Tang’s boxed meals, you can’t pick your sides—it’s all down to luck. If he opens a restaurant this time, I’m ordering a plate of spare ribs first thing to satisfy my craving.”

“I’m craving grilled meat.”

“The stone-grilled meat at West Market just doesn’t cut it. It’s not even a decent substitute for Mr. Tang’s grilled meat—it just makes me crave his skewers even more.” 

“It’s finally opening in a few days. When it does, I’m definitely going to treat myself to a proper meal.”

“Same here, same here.”

That’s the good thing about opening the breakfast shop first—we can spread the word before Boss Tang’s restaurant even opens. Otherwise, by the time the restaurant opens, customers won’t even know it’s open yet.

Tang Xianling told his mother that, while the restaurant wasn’t open yet, he wanted to go back to the village with Tieniu one more time.

He wanted to buy some duck eggs. Since Tang Xianling had needed vegetables for the grand opening, he’d been busy these past few days—not only supervising the construction and running around to buy flowers, plants, and trees, but also experimenting with the menu.

Pumpkins have recently come into season—huge ones with thick skins and bright yellow flesh.

The people of Fengyuan City usually simmered their pumpkins until they were soft and mushy, with a salty flavor. Pumpkins naturally have a sweet taste, so simmering them with a little salt until tender resulted in a sweet-and-salty flavor.

Tang Xianling wasn’t used to this flavor, nor was his mother, but the pumpkins were cheap and large—one could last a long time. His mother said that in the past, they stewed pumpkins simply for convenience; adding sugar would make them too sweet, and eating just a few bites wouldn’t feel like a proper meal.

The people of Fengyuan City generally preferred savory flavors.

There were also pumpkin-filled steamed buns, but steaming them was a hassle, so they rarely made them at home.

The Lu family recently introduced pumpkin-filled buns and even sent three to the Tang family, saying, “Try these seasonal buns while they’re in season.”

Tang Xianling decided to use the pumpkin as a starting point for a complimentary dish—it couldn’t be expensive. Free food comes with a hefty cost, and his family simply couldn’t afford such a lavish gesture right now. Money has been flowing out like water lately, and even the upright, non-commercial Mr. Tang has had to “tighten his belt” to save money.

But he couldn’t simply stir-fry or stew a dish of pumpkin; that would be a slap in the face to the diners.

Most of the customers are from out of town; they’ve come all this way to support your restaurant. You promised them a free dish, and they’ve been waiting in anticipation for a month—only to be served a plate of cheap pumpkin. How would you feel?

“This Mr. Tang is playing games with me! He’s pulling a fast one on me! He’s not being sincere at all!”

Tang Xianling immediately thought of the salted duck eggs he had pickled at home. He planned to serve salted egg yolk-baked pumpkin chicken strips: slaughter two chickens, debone them, cut the meat into strips, coat them with starch along with the pumpkin, and fry them in batches until crispy. When the customers arrived, he would stir-fry them in a pan with salted egg yolk, so that the outside would have the sandy texture of the salted egg yolk and be crispy when bitten into, while the inside remained tender.

His mother tried it and said that when prepared this way, the pumpkin tasted even more fragrant than the chicken. Tang Xianling also thought it was delicious.

The salted duck eggs he cured have exceptionally good yolks—the kind that are grainy and release oil. He scooped out one just then; whether served with congee or as a side dish, it’s fragrant. A few days ago, he steamed too much multigrain rice, so he fluffed up the leftover rice, stir-fried it with a salted duck egg, and tossed in some leafy greens and diced radish—it turned out absolutely delicious.

Salted egg yolks have a unique charm.

As for the salted duck egg dishes, Tang Xianling ate them for three straight days, then dared not touch them anymore—he was afraid that if he finished them all, he wouldn’t have enough ingredients to run his shop. So he immediately told Tieniu to go back and buy more, making sure to get a larger supply this time.

“Mother, do you want to come along?” Tang Xianling asked.

Jiang Yun said she wouldn’t go. “Don’t worry about me being home alone. You don’t need to run over to the Lu family’s place anymore; I can manage on my own.”

“Besides, Cui Dabao and Douzi will be coming by during the day.”

“You and Tieniu should go ahead without worry.”

Earlier, when Wu-ger had returned to the village for a night’s stay, he’d even sent food to the Lu household and asked Chen Qiaolian to come keep her company—back then, she’d truly been timid and hadn’t dared to tend to such a large courtyard alone. Now, for some reason, Jiang Yun wasn’t quite so afraid anymore.

“If it rains and the roads get bad, you can stay a couple more days.” Jiang Yun also reminded Wu-ger not to worry about her or rush back in a hurry. Tang Xianling smiled and said, “Alright,” then praised her, “My mother has really grown up.”

This made Jiang Yun laugh. “You’re such a kid.”

But Tang Xianling really wasn’t all that worried about his mother. In the mornings, Cui Dabao was there, and Sister Tong and A-Liang would come by during the day. As for the night, once the door was bolted, his mother said she wasn’t afraid—she’d just sleep, and Cui Dabao would be there by four in the morning.

Thinking about it that way, it really didn’t seem like a big deal.

Tang Xianling headed back to the village with Tieniu. Before leaving, he needed to bring something for Uncle Zhang and Uncle Wang. This time, he hadn’t bought any pastries or fabric from the shops outside; instead, he took some of their own home-pickled century eggs and salted duck eggs, and had specially rendered a pot of lard.

Tieniu said, “The villagers love lard; they need the fat to keep their stomachs full when they’re out working in the fields. In the city, people mostly use soybean oil or rapeseed oil for cooking.”

“Besides, it’s hard to buy pork by the pound in the village, and pork doesn’t keep well. So whenever a family in the village slaughters a pig, I rush over with some money to ask if I can buy a bit. But the lard and fatty cuts are usually kept by the family who slaughtered the pig.”

That’s why people in the village rarely use lard when cooking.

While Tang Xianling was rendering lard, he kept an eye on Tieniu. Huangfu Tieniu was tending the firewood; sensing his master’s gaze, he looked up to meet his eyes. Tang Xianling said, “When you sit there in silence, you look like a young master from a wealthy family, but I prefer it when you talk about village matters.”

These days, the wealthy and powerful were aloof and distant, with their pretentious, elaborate, and overly formal ways—a lifestyle unsuited to a commoner like him. He enjoyed cooking, the warmth of home, and listening to the gossip and rumors of the village, offering his own judgments and occasional grumbles. He cherished the small, mundane joys found in the uneventful, day-to-day routine.

Tieniu seemed quiet and reserved, but he was very observant.

“I like the present too,” Huangfu Tieniu said.

He really, really liked his life now.

Uncle Wang had said not to bring salt, but Tang Xianling was worried they might have finished the food he’d sent last time. After thinking it over, he packed a small jar of pickles to take along—all in the spirit of flexibility.

Huangfu Tieniu smiled as he watched his husband bustle about, making preparations for the gifts.

“All right, all right, load your things onto the cart.” Tang Xianling scanned the area with his eyes; nothing seemed to be missing.

Huangfu Tieniu took on the role of “laborer,” loading the gifts into the car, along with the straw mats, cushions, toothbrushes, and incense beans Xianling would need, plus mosquito repellent incense—and a light blanket as well—

Tang Xianling：？？？

“I’m not that fussy. If you bring a quilt, Uncle’s going to give us a hard time later.”

“I’m being dramatic,” Tieniu took the blame first, then added, “Uncle Wang and Uncle Zhang wouldn’t think that way. We’ll carry our own quilts. Once we’re gone, Uncle Wang won’t have to roll up the bedding, and Uncle Zhang will be even happier.”

Tang Xianling agreed. It made sense not to give Uncle Wang extra work—these days, washing and mending quilts and covers was a hassle and a major undertaking. They loaded up a cart. Oh, and they also took the basket Uncle Wang had used to pack duck eggs for them earlier.

So the cart was packed to the brim. They set off.

They dawdled along and didn’t reach Xu Village until noon. The village children had all gone home for lunch and weren’t playing outside, so it was unusually quiet. Wispy wisps of smoke rose from the chimneys of the village kitchens, drifting up into the sky.

They arrived at Uncle Zhang’s house. The courtyard gate was wide open, and the family of three was sitting under the eaves eating.

Zhang Hainiu kept looking around instead of eating properly. Zhang Huai tapped his son on the head. “You’re just asking to get beaten every day. I told you not to go down to the river, and now you won’t even eat? If you don’t want to eat, then don’t.”

This time, Wang Susu didn’t even come out to coax his son.

“Dad, I’m a great swimmer,” Zhang Hainiu tried to explain. His father wouldn’t listen, his face stern.

Zhang Hainiu got scared too. He looked up and saw people approaching the gate, and was instantly delighted: “Wu-ger! Brother Tieniu!” The mule cart drew nearer, and Tang Xianling also got off.

The family of three in the courtyard couldn’t hide their delight. They put down their bowls, stopped eating, and stood up to greet the visitors. Zhang Hainiu ran the fastest, calling out to them and offering to help carry their belongings.

Huangfu Tieniu handed the items to Hainiu one by one. “Hold on tight.”

“I know,” Zhang Hainiu replied, instinctively letting go and patting his chest to reassure him.

Behind them, Zhang Huai grew impatient and called out in a loud voice, “Use both hands! Hold it tight, you rascal!” Huangfu Tieniu steadied the jar with one hand just as it slipped from Hainiu’s grasp and began to fall.

Zhang Hainiu: …scratched his head awkwardly. He’d completely forgotten.

The Zhang household was in an uproar, all because of Zhang Hainiu. Half a month ago, he’d gone down to the river to swim. Village kids were always like that—Zhang Hainiu was a strong swimmer—but for some reason that day, another child’s foot got tangled in something in the river. When Hainiu saw his friend wasn’t coming up, he dove in to save him.

“……Luckily, Gouwa and the others were quick-witted—they ran back to call for help. Zhang’er was the first to get there and jumped in to pull him out. When Hainiu was pulled from the river, he was completely unconscious.” Wang Susu’s voice trembled with fear as he recounted the story, on the verge of tears.

Seeing his father’s expression, Zhang Hainiu began to feel guilty. But he couldn’t just stand by and watch someone die. Besides, it had been over half a month since the incident, and his father had been keeping him from going near the river—not even letting him wade at the water’s edge. He was bursting with frustration. With the weather this hot, how could he possibly stay out of the river?

“Is the child Hainiu saved doing all right?” Tang Xianling asked.

Zhang Hainiu replied, “He’s fine, he’s fine. He was clinging to me for dear life.”

Tang Xianling: …The boy spoke with pride and a sense of accomplishment. It wasn’t that he blamed the drowning child—when someone is drowning, their instinct for survival makes them grab onto anyone—but Hainiu was just a child himself. If the boy had really died, Tang Xianling didn’t even dare to think about it.

So Huangfu Tieniu said coldly, “Your father was right.” 

Zhang Hainiu: ???

Huh? Brother Tieniu isn’t on my side anymore?

Tang Xianling chuckled, “Brother Tieniu is on my side now.” At that, the adults at the table all burst into laughter.