Chapter 93: I’ll Try It When I Get Home
Wen Xiuyi talked boldly, but by afternoon he still refused to go home.
“Uncle, you’re not going back today?” Wen Nong said, clearly seeing through him.
Wen Xiuyi snorted. “What’s the rush? I’m waiting for you to close the stall and for Carpenter Zhang to deliver my thing. Saves you from pushing the cart alone tonight. No need to thank me.”
Wen Nong muttered, “I think you’re just afraid of getting scolded.”
“Copy the Thousand Character Classic three times. Miss one character and write it ten more times,” Wen Xiuyi said coolly. Wen Nong froze on the spot.
“Uncle…”
“Calling me Dad won’t help.”
Liuzi laughed so hard he nearly fell over—until Wen Xiuyi pointed at him. “You too.”
Soon Wen Xiuyi lay back in a lounge chair and ignored their pleading, leaving the two boys miserable together.
Meanwhile, Wen Yao wandered the dock and bought fish. By luck, she also bought dried shrimp from a coastal cargo ship. One sniff told her they were sea shrimp—precious flavoring in an era without MSG. She rarely used items from her secret space anymore, afraid of drawing suspicion.
She returned carrying fish in one hand and a sack of shrimp on her shoulder.
“Restocking supplies?” Wen Xiuyi teased.
“Good stuff,” she whispered, handing him shrimp.
He tasted one and sat up. “Nice—you even found this.”
She grinned. “I asked the ship captain to bring seafood next time. People here don’t know how to cook it, so it sells poorly.”
Wen Xiuyi sighed. “Too bad. Seafood’s nutritious. Would’ve been good for Da Tou and your grandparents.”
Wen Yao smiled proudly. “Relax. I’ve got plans—shrimp seasoning, seaweed bone soup, and once we move back, daily milk for Da Tou again.”
They lingered until sunset. Wen Xiuyi stubbornly refused to help at the stall, telling customers he was “training his nephew,” earning Wen Nong plenty of sympathy while exhausting him.
Near dusk, Carpenter Zhang arrived carrying the finished curved plow.
“You’re still here? I was going to send Liuzi to deliver it!”
They loaded the heavy plow onto the ox cart. After inspecting it carefully, Wen Xiuyi gave a thumbs-up.
“Amazing craftsmanship. Perfect. I’ll test it at home—if it works well, make more before spring plowing and earn a fortune.”
Zhang hurriedly handed back the blueprint. “This is yours—I just built it. I can’t sell it.”
Wen Xiuyi pushed it back. “Keep it. When you earn money, buy Liuzi paper and brushes. Stop letting him write on the ground.”
Carpenter Zhang and his wife’s eyes turned red instantly.
“Liuzi, kneel and thank your teacher!” Zhang said, pulling his son down.
The Wen family was truly helping them rise.
