Chapter 86: Tearing Down the Ancestral Home, Building a New House
The news that the Wen family’s eldest branch was going to build a new house shocked the villagers even more than the news that they had gained over ten mu of land. Everyone gossiped in private—had the Wen family struck it rich? Buying land and building a house one after another.
No matter what others said, the family still got busy.
After proudly showing off their new land for several days, Old Wen began hiring workers in the village to build a house for the eldest branch.
According to Wen Yao’s request, the house had to be large, so the entire ancestral homestead was used. Altogether it covered two or three mu—enough to build several large courtyards.
On the eighteenth day of the eleventh lunar month, the Wen family woke early, tidied up, ate breakfast, and headed together to Wen Xiuyi’s small, dilapidated courtyard.
The yard was already crowded with workers and curious villagers. The place buzzed with noise and excitement.
“They’re here—the Wen family is here!” someone shouted, and everyone turned to look.
Old Wen strode forward proudly with his pipe behind his back. Luo Shi walked beside him holding Datou’s hand, followed by Wen Xiuyi and his two younger brothers, and then the rest of the family.
“Oh, everyone’s already here,” Old Wen greeted cheerfully, smiling so broadly his wrinkles deepened. Anyone unaware might think he himself was building the house.
Some jealous villagers muttered quietly. Though the eldest branch building a house had nothing to do with them, in their hearts, once a family split, they were two households. Why was the old residence acting so proud?
The Wen family ignored them.
Old Wen led Wen Xiuyi to greet the workers, then looked at the crumbling ancestral home. These shabby houses were the Wen family’s roots. Now that they were to be demolished, he felt reluctant.
“Eldest son, you do it. This is your home now.” He stepped aside and handed the sledgehammer to Wen Xiuyi.
Wen Xiuyi stepped back. “Father, you should do it. This is the Wen ancestral home—you’re more suitable.”
Old Wen understood. His son was giving him face before the villagers, showing that even after the family split, they were still one family.
He handed his pipe to Wen Xiuyi. “Hold this for me.” Then he lifted the hammer and smashed it down onto the courtyard wall.
The earthen wall collapsed instantly.
“Start work!” the foreman shouted, and the workers rushed forward with tools, hammering loudly as they tore down the old house.
The Wen family stood together watching their home turn into rubble.
“Uncle Wen, should we take the old wood back for firewood?” asked the foreman, a man in his forties known as Third Brother Wang.
Though he was distantly related to Li San’s family, business was business. He accepted the job immediately when the Wen family approached him.
Old Wen waved his hand and told the men of the family to carry the wood home.
They hauled the beams away while Old Wen stood by the ruins watching the workers measure and mark the layout of the new courtyards.
Wen Yao stayed to watch curiously. She had already drawn the interior plans and discussed them with Third Brother Wang. After much study, they had finalized the building plan. It was different from the usual houses he built, but he followed the employer’s wishes.
“Yao Yao, Grandma wants you home to cook,” Wen Nong called after returning from hauling wood.
Wen Yao, who had been “supervising” the ruins with Datou, answered and took his hand to go home.
Datou kept looking back.
“Reluctant to leave?” she asked gently.
After all, he had been born and raised in that little yard. It was natural to feel attached.
He nodded.
She ruffled his hair. “Silly boy. We’re building a new house. Soon we’ll live in a big one—no more leaks when it rains, no roofs blown off by wind, no fear of collapse.”
“Mm. New house.” He took one last look back, then the reluctance disappeared from his eyes.
Although they were all from the same village, the Wen family provided lunch for the workers. It didn’t need to be fancy—just oily enough and filling.
Now that Luo Shi had land, she felt confident. The coarse flour buns were as big as a grown man’s fist, served with her pickled radishes and a stir-fried dish with some oil—already a good meal. Since her pickles were popular at the dock stall, the cellar was full of jars, and there was plenty to go around.
After the first day, they didn’t need to watch closely. Wen Xiuyi and Wen Nong returned to the dock stall, Wen Jun continued studying medicine, Wen Yao kept taking cooking jobs, and Old Wen supervised construction while managing the household.
Half a month passed. The new house had a basic framework, and the courtyard shape was visible from afar.
One day during dinner, Old Wen announced, “In twenty days it’ll be New Year. The ten-plus mu of land behind the mountain must be tilled and fertilized so we can plant in spring. The dock stall can’t stop, and Wen Jun must continue with Doctor Jin. Except for them and Wen Nong, everyone else starts working the fields tomorrow.”
Everyone paused mid-bite. Even Luo Shi, who often argued with Old Wen, stayed silent—clearly they had already discussed it.
