Chapter 191 Naming

Benefactor?

What a strange name!

I gave an awkward laugh and put down my chopsticks: "Are you hungry too?"

The boy stole a glance at the food on the table and swallowed hard, but as if realizing his rudeness, he quickly looked away and nodded timidly.

"Don't eat the food on the table yet, have some porridge first."

I don't know how long he hasn't eaten, his stomach must be fragile. Eating rice directly might not be good for his stomach, so let him drink some porridge first to nourish it.

I moved to the stove, ladled out a bowl of warm rice porridge, added a few pieces of stewed potato slices until they were soft, placed them on the kang table, and pushed them to the boy's bedside.

The boy didn't need my help; he slowly sat up on his own, grimacing.

Looking at his little hand wrapped in gauze, I turned around and went to the kitchen to get a metal spoon.

As soon as I entered the room, I saw the boy staring at the rice porridge in front of him, swallowing his saliva. When he heard me come in, he quickly looked away and watched me cautiously.

"Eat this."

I held the spoon in front of the boy, which startled him so much that he jerked back.

Do I look fierce? Why would such a simple movement scare you?

"Don't be afraid, I won't hit you. Eat slowly."

The child's defensiveness suggests he has been frightened or is frequently beaten in his life.

"Thank you, benefactor..."

The boy slowly took the spoon and thanked him softly.

He also calls me "benefactor"... Never mind, eating is the priority. I'll correct him when I have time.

The boy sat at the end of the kang (a heated brick bed) drinking porridge, while I sat at the table on the floor eating, deliberately avoiding looking in his direction so that he could eat more comfortably.

Although I didn't look directly at him, I could still catch a glimpse of him clumsily holding the spoon and eating the porridge in big mouthfuls. Before I could even finish a bowl of rice, the child had already finished a whole bowl of porridge.

This is about the right amount of food a child can eat; I can't give him any more if he wants to eat more.

After slowly and carefully finishing the last bite of rice, I looked up at the boy and asked, "Where are you from? How did you end up fainting on the mountain?"

When I asked him that, the boy lowered his eyes and stared at the empty bowl without saying a word.

Just when I thought he wasn't going to say anything more and was getting ready to clear the dishes, the boy suddenly opened his mouth: "I ran away from home. I'd rather die out here than go back."

Judging from his expression, the story must be complicated. I didn't plan to press him further and smiled at him, saying, "Let's focus on recovering first."

She turned around, cleared the bowls and chopsticks off the table, and stopped chatting with the boy.

She went to the small west room, found two ibuprofen tablets, poured a glass of warm water, and handed it to the boy: "Are you in a lot of pain? Take two painkillers."

Upon hearing that it was painkillers, the boy hurriedly waved his bandaged little hand, saying, "No need, don't waste the medicine, I can bear it."

"Eat it, it'll expire if you don't."

I pushed the pill forward a little more, and the boy reached out and took it.

"You saved my life and gave me food and medicine. I can't take your money for nothing. I'll definitely repay you once I'm healed."

The boy took the medicine and looked at me with sincere eyes.

A teenage boy earnestly said he wanted to repay me, and I couldn't resist teasing him, so I pretended to be serious and asked, "How will you repay me?"

Seeing my expression change, the boy became nervous. He thought for a moment in a panic and stammered, "I... I can do a lot of work. I can chop wood, cook, and I'm also good at farming in the spring. If... if you're not in a hurry to send me away, I can do more work to repay you."

Seeing how serious he was, I was genuinely a little confused: "Aren't you afraid I'm a bad person?"

The boy shook his head: "I'm not afraid. You saved my life and gave me food. I'm not afraid even if you're a bad person."

Although he stuttered, his mature thoughts made me a little curious about his age.

"How old are you?"

The boy thought for a moment: "I should be 9 years old."

It's beyond my expectations that a 9-year-old child can do so much work.

Considering he said he ran away from that house, it seems he was abused in his previous home and had to do chores all the time.

While I was still analyzing his experience, the boy spoke again: "Could I stay with you for a few more days? I'm recovering quickly, and I'll be able to help you with chores in a few days."

His eyes were full of pleading and longing to stay. Although I didn't plan to have another person living with me, I wouldn't let him leave in this freezing weather. At least I had to let his injuries heal first.

"Then you can stay here with me while you recover. We can talk about other things after you've recovered."

The boy visibly cheered when I agreed to let him stay a few more days.

This is the first time I've seen a happy expression on his face since I met him.

Regardless of whether he was happy or not, the unpleasant truth still had to be stated upfront: "However, there are some rules you need to follow while staying here."

The boy nodded hurriedly, "Yes, yes, I'll listen to whatever you say, my benefactor."

"First, you can't go into the room on the west side. Second, you must treat every animal you keep at home well."

"Yes, I will certainly comply, my benefactor."

The word "benefactor" appeared so frequently that I couldn't stand it anymore: "Third, don't call me benefactor. My name is Wang Chengyi, and you can also call me aunt."

The boy obediently called out "Aunt Cheng," which sounded very pleasant to me.

What's your name?

I can't always call him "boy".

"Grandpa and Mom call me Tiedan'er."

"Iron, Iron Egg?"

I hesitated before saying the name, and Tie Dan'er, who was lying on the kang (a heated brick bed) licking his butt, suddenly looked up.

Seeing my expression, the boy lowered his head somewhat embarrassedly and whispered, "I should have a proper name too, but my mother and grandfather died when I was three years old. After that, no one told me what my proper name was. My third uncle and the others just called me a bastard..."

The word "bastard" is really unpleasant; how can an adult call a child that!

Seeing my furrowed brows, the boy tentatively asked, "How about you give me a new name, Aunt Cheng?"

Although this child is timid, he speaks with tact and is quick-witted. He probably became timid and hesitant because he was exploited by adults for too long. With proper education, he shouldn't be too bad off.

I had high hopes for this little boy, and I immediately prepared to give him a proper name.

Iron Egg can't be used anymore, and it can't be used as freely as cats and dogs. The worst thing in the apocalypse is not having enough to eat, so let's call it Full Granary, which means a granary full of food.

"Can I call him Mancang?"

I asked the boy for his opinion.

"Mancang sounds nice, I like it. Aunt Cheng, what does Mancang mean?"

"A full granary means the warehouse is filled with grain, which symbolizes a bountiful harvest and that there will be no hunger."

I reckon the boy won't have started school by the time the apocalypse comes, so let me explain the meaning more clearly.

After I explained it to him, the boy excitedly exclaimed, "Aunt Cheng, you're amazing! This name is wonderful, I love it!"