Chapter 35: Speaking Late Can Be a Good Thing Too
Old Man Wen was surprised to see Dazhu holding a book.
“Dazhu’s studying?”
Dazhu: “…”
Wen Yao, seeing the awkward silence between grandfather and grandson, quickly changed the subject. “Grandpa, what brings you here?”
Old Man Wen strolled in slowly, glanced around, and said, “Just out for a walk, came to see you all.”
After speaking, his gaze drifted toward the kitchen.
Looking at the simple kitchen, Old Man Wen thought of all the delicious food that came from it and suddenly felt it was a bit too shabby. If he’d known earlier, he should’ve built a better kitchen for his eldest son.
Seeing that Old Man Wen kept standing, Dazhu put down his book and fetched a stool for him.
Old Man Wen sat down and patted Dazhu’s head. “You managing okay?” he asked Wen Yao.
“I’m managing fine. Grandma came by earlier and helped me get everything done,” Wen Yao answered properly.
Old Man Wen nodded. The atmosphere grew awkward again.
After a while, he asked, “What about your braised meat?”
Wen Yao: “Ah, it’s braising.”
Old Man Wen: “…”
Seeing his expression, Wen Yao suddenly had a thought—could the old man be craving it?
“It’ll be ready soon, Grandpa. Why don’t you sit a bit longer and help me taste-test later?” she said with a grin.
Old Man Wen’s face lit up, but after a moment’s thought, he waved his hand. “Forget it, that’s something you sell for money. Better save it for business.”
After all, it was their family’s livelihood. No matter how much he craved it, he couldn’t take advantage.
To ease the awkwardness, Old Man Wen picked up Dazhu and started asking about his studies. Dazhu wasn’t as timid as before; he wriggled out of the embrace, grabbed his writing stick, and started showing off his writing.
Watching him write word by word on the ground, Old Man Wen was both amazed and curious.
“Dazhu, what’s this say?”
Though he’d managed to raise a scholar like Wen Xiuyi, Old Man Wen himself was illiterate. Precisely because he hadn’t studied, he had always hoped the next generation could produce a true scholar.
And sure enough, one had emerged—but he turned out to be a disgrace among scholars.
In that moment, all of Old Man Wen’s life struggles flashed through his mind. Seeing Dazhu writing so neatly, the old man nearly broke down in tears.
Not because he was touched that Dazhu could write, but because it broke his heart—what use was writing if he couldn’t speak?
Right then, Dazhu simply tilted his head and looked at Old Man Wen without making a sound.
Wen Yao, the designated spokesperson, stepped in.
“Grandpa, Dazhu wrote our names,” she said, pointing to the words on the ground and reading them aloud.
The more Old Man Wen listened, the redder his eyes became. He gazed at Dazhu, gently stroking his head, lips pressed tightly together without a word.
Dazhu was a little frightened and shrank back behind Wen Yao.
Wen Yao was startled by his reaction. “Grandpa, what’s wrong?” she asked. Had she said something wrong? Why did it look like he was about to cry?
Old Man Wen just looked at Dazhu with pity, his voice filled with helplessness. “Heaven’s unfair… Our Dazhu’s so bright, how could…”
He didn’t finish the sentence, afraid of hurting Dazhu’s feelings.
Dazhu looked at Wen Yao in confusion, as if asking—why’s Grandpa so sad? Was it because of me?
Wen Yao patted Dazhu’s head and began comforting Old Man Wen. “Grandpa, Dazhu’s still little. Maybe it’s just not his time yet. I’ve heard before that the smarter a person is, the more trials they face. Maybe speaking late is just Dazhu’s trial.”
Old Man Wen seemed soothed by her words, though he still asked, “Makes sense, makes sense. But who did you hear that from?”
“…”
Oops, she said too much again. But Wen Yao didn’t panic. She replied smoothly, “My mother.”
After all, Liu shi was gone. No one was going to chase her down to the capital and ask whether she’d said it or not.
Old Man Wen immediately pictured his daughter-in-law’s always-cold expression. He knew—she came from a good background and had never really approved of their family. If it weren’t for Wen Xiuyi’s scholar father-in-law, the marriage might not have happened.
Liu shi had studied with her father since childhood, so it made sense she knew a lot.
“You’re right. Dazhu’s just a late talker. If anyone dares say he’s mute again, Grandpa will give them a beating, how about that?” The last part, Old Man Wen directed at Dazhu.
When he heard the word “mute,” Dazhu frowned slightly, but seeing Old Man Wen’s face, he relaxed and nodded.
In the past, no matter what anyone said, this child wouldn’t react at all. He wouldn’t respond, wouldn’t acknowledge. But now he actually nodded in response, which made Old Man Wen so happy he could burst.
He excitedly asked Dazhu to write a few more characters for him, and even told Dazhu his own name, asking him to write it.
Wen Yao’s mouth twitched. “Grandpa, I haven’t taught him your name yet.”
Old Man Wen looked a bit disappointed, but it didn’t matter—Dazhu was smart.
The three chatted about everything and nothing for a while. When the braised meat was finally done, Wen Yao cut some up for him to taste, even though he’d said he wouldn’t eat it.
Old Man Wen really didn’t eat it. But he did have something else on his mind.
“Yao Yao, that cake you made last time—how do you make it?” he asked suddenly.
Wen Yao raised her eyebrows. Oh? So the old man wanted dessert?
“Why? Grandpa, you want some?” she teased.
His craving exposed, Old Man Wen gave a sheepish grunt. “What nonsense. That stuff’s for kids. I was just curious, just asking.”
Wen Yao let out a long “ohhh.” “I see. And here I was thinking there’s still time today, maybe I could steam a batch. But since you’re just asking, I won’t bother.”
“…” Old Man Wen’s mouth twitched. This girl was doing it on purpose. Definitely on purpose.
Seeing the old man’s face crumple into wrinkles, Wen Yao finally burst out laughing. “Just messing with you! Hang tight, Grandpa, I’ll go make some. You want it sweet or mild?”
After all, too much sugar wasn’t good for the elderly.
Old Man Wen’s face turned red, but he still stammered, “Uh… sweet. Sweet, I guess.”
Wen Yao understood instantly.
Who would’ve thought her grandpa actually liked sweets?
She turned and went to the kitchen to prepare. Old Man Wen craned his neck, eagerly watching her busying away.
Dazhu simply moved his little stool to sit beside him and quietly read the book Wen Yao had given him. Even though there were characters he didn’t recognize, it didn’t stop him from memorizing how they looked.
As for Wen Yao, with her back turned to them, she quietly bought some xylitol from her space. Watching her already thin stash of achievement points shrink again, her heart ached. But for Grandpa’s health? Fine. A little splurge it is.
