Chapter 48 The Legend of the Three-Bungee

Fourth sister? Who is the fourth sister?

Jiang Ranxu's brain worked hard to sort out the family identities of the peas: Meng Weishen's mother was the eldest sister, the fat aunt was the second sister, the skinny aunt was the third sister, and the annoying uncle was the youngest...

No, Meng Weishen had never mentioned his mother's "fourth sister" to him. Jiang Ranxu lowered his voice and asked, "Who is the fourth sister? You only have two aunts, right?"

Meng Weishen also shook his head blankly.

Meng Lirong's sobs gradually subsided, and after a rustling sound, the old house returned to silence.

The walls were so poorly insulated that the two dared not make any more noise. There was nothing else to do except sleep.

The effect of his acting training was immediate. Meng Weishen completely adapted to physical contact with the same sex (even quite desired it), allowing him to sleep in his arms and becoming his exclusive Abebe.

A day in the countryside begins earlier than in the city. At five or six o'clock, the resounding crowing of roosters pierces the dawn, and the sounds of people begin to boil: people chatting, cooking in large pots, and playing short videos on their phones. The old house is noisier than a construction site in the city.

Jiang Ranxu was half asleep. Thinking about having to face a room full of relatives if he went out, he would rather cover himself with the quilt and force himself to sleep until nine o'clock.

He unconsciously groped for the seat next to him, but it was empty. He couldn't fall asleep anymore.

Jiang Ranxu was struggling with neurasthenia when Meng Weishen tiptoed back through the door. The aroma of hot omelets also crept into the bedroom.

Jiang Ranxu lifted his eyelids and saw that the man was wearing a plaid bib with a torn Snoopy pattern on the chest. The white dog had been blackened by the smoke from the firewood. It was hard to imagine that the man had been playing the role of Piercing Abi just a week ago. Now his hair hadn't been dyed back to black, and his entire outfit was a volatile mix of trendy and rustic.

He should have found it dirty, but also funny: "Why are you wearing your mother's bib?"

"Don't mention it. I went to help my mom and cooked breakfast for more than a dozen people." Meng Weishen lifted the lids of several bowls, setting off a bomb of rice aroma in the house. The mixture of carbohydrates, sugar and oil tempted the two people's rumbling stomachs. "I have to help her buy groceries in town later. Rural areas pay attention to interpersonal relationships. Yesterday, my second aunt's family treated us to a meal, and today it's our turn to treat."

In the morning, I worry about what to eat for lunch, and in the afternoon, I worry about what to eat for dinner. If every day could be this simple, life might be happy.

Jiang Ranxu should also worry about his own schedule. The old Meng family wouldn't assign errands to a distinguished guest like him, but to show their in-laws' warmth, they had to interrogate his entire ancestry. He would rather cling to Meng Weishen, go to town with him to buy groceries, and escape from his dozen or so pea-like relatives.

As Jiang Ranxu stepped out of the room, he saw a shiny three-wheeled motorcycle blocking the entrance to the yard, blocking their way.

Meng Weishen got on his three-wheeled motorcycle and patted the open-air compartment at the back: "Get in, I'll take you for a ride in the town." He acted as if he was inviting him to ride in a convertible Maserati.

The back seat of the three-wheeled motorcycle was over two meters wide, enough to hold at least a cow, and more than enough for a person. Jiang Ranxu was deeply shocked: "No, can you drive it? Do you have a motorcycle driver's license?"

"My mom said it's electric, has a 30-mile speed limit, and doesn't require a driver's license. And everyone in the village drives one. Those old men and women in their seventies and eighties can barely read. How are they supposed to pass the first test?"

Jiang Ranxu nervously climbed onto the back seat of the three-wheeled scooter. He caught a faint whiff of chicken on the fender, and a wave of unease washed over him. Just as he was about to put on the mask and gloves he'd prepared, the three-wheeled scooter took off, accelerating at a pace comparable to a four-wheeled scooter.

The possibility of being disemboweled increased significantly when the tram and the three-wheeled motorcycle were covered in iron. He almost suspected that his life would be in Meng Weishen's hands.

Meng Weishen quickly slammed on the brakes. The three-wheeled motorcycle left the ground, and the inertia almost threw them all off. "Sorry, my mom borrowed the car from a neighbor. They must have disabled the speed limit. How uncivilized..."

Jiang Ranxu desperately held onto the fender, no longer in the mood to maintain his appearance: "Just focus on driving, or else let's all go down and chat with your grandpa!"

The three-wheeled motorcycle made strange noises as it passed through cornfields and flocks of leisurely chickens, ducks and geese. The buildings on the roadside gradually changed from earthen houses to two- or three-story buildings. When the old department store with blue glass windows appeared at the end of the road, they arrived at the open-air market smoothly without any accidents.

Meng Weishen handed Jiang Ranxu a palm-sized note filled with ingredients Meng Lirong had listed. He asked him to help count them, ticking the box for each ingredient he bought. He also had to help keep an eye on the expenses, as Meng Lirong had only given him an 800 yuan budget.

Jiang Ranxu lifted the man's face and examined it carefully. His expression was so clear that it almost lowered the average level of the entire street. He said disdainfully, "Why did your mother give you the shopping mission? A young man like you would normally sell vegetables for three yuan for at least seven yuan."

"Then you go buy it?"

"I can't do it either. My accent isn't right. If I sell it to someone from out of town, it'll only cost ten dollars."

"Okay. If the budget goes over, I can just pay for it myself."

Jiang Ranxu pondered, "No, let's think of a way first. You can follow the old ladies closely, and when they finish bargaining, you can say you want it too."

Meng Weishen promised he'd learned it. The two of them stood watch at the market entrance, peeling an ugly orange. Jiang Ranxu, with his sharp eyes, picked out an old woman with a small cart from the crowd. Meng Weishen, following his command, hurried to keep up with her stumbling pace, and indeed, he bought fresh and cheap mustard greens and young thorn sprouts.

Meng Weishen tasted the sweetness of victory and became so proud that he dared to abandon the old lady and open a pork shop alone.

The boss was busy cutting up the pig, the chopping board banging loudly. He just glanced at Meng Weishen and said, "How many people are eating in your family, young man?"

"My family is having a party, so you can bring a few more pounds."

The boss didn't waste any time. He threw away his knife, carried out half a pig from the shop, and insisted on stuffing it into their motorcycle.

Meng Weishen was shocked: "This is too much!"

"If I entertain guests, I have to cook a few more dishes to save face. I'm too lazy to sell two or three pounds of it."

"It's not a full pig feast. I also need to buy beef and mutton..."

The situation was about to get out of control. But Jiang Ranxu didn't want to touch the filthy raw meat shop from the bottom of his heart. While he was hesitating, the old lady slowly stopped in front of the pork shop:

"Zhigang, cut me a pound of ribs. No more, just for me and the old man. I want the middle ribs, with the ribs, freshly slaughtered today. I can smell them if they're not fresh."

The boss chuckled, pulled back half of the pig, and called out, "Okay, Aunt Zhang. Don't worry, the pigs were all killed this morning—"

The world of acquaintances is so unreasonable. Or rather, only those with close relationships are worthy of reason.

Meng Weishen learned his lesson: "I want the same ribs, but with extra cuts. I also want a piece of pork belly and four pork elbows. I don't want the extra ones."

The back seat of the three-wheeled motorcycle gradually filled with food. Braised beef, wild mushrooms, sausage, raspberries... Pushing the cart full of spoils, the two men experienced the sense of accomplishment of a lion pride taking down its prey. A simple life brings a simpler sense of accomplishment.

Now all that was missing was tea leaves. Meng Lirong had specifically noted: fresh camellia tea leaves.

But the market was about to close, and only a few stalls remained, selling odd, niche goods. They even found a thick, ganoderma lucidum the size of a coffee table and a paper box full of squirming silkworm pupae, but no tea.

It was the Snow King on the street who sang brainwashing melodies and drew their attention away.

A few years ago, the iron mines dried up, leaving the town without a major economic pillar. The streets remain as they did in the early 21st century. The gleaming red Snow King shop, like a time traveler, captivates all the young people in the market.

Milk tea and fruit tea are both tea, so it shouldn't be a problem to use them to make up the numbers. But drinks are sold by the cup, so Meng Weishen needs to calculate the number of people:

"My second aunt's family has two cousins, two uncles, a cousin sister, a cousin brother, and two cousin sisters. A total of... well, that doesn't include my family. Why don't I understand?"

Jiang Ranxu was sure they couldn't figure it out even if they spent the whole afternoon. "Just order thirty cups first. We'll divide it among ourselves later. Those with diabetes can't drink it, and those who are greedy can have two cups."

The energetic young man in the store only bought the cheapest ice cream cone for his girlfriend and cast a jealous and curious look at them. The two transformed themselves into nouveau riche people in the countryside, started up their three-wheeled motorcycles, and returned to the village in glory.

——

Just as his three-wheeled motorcycle came to a stop at the courtyard gate, Meng Weishen received an urgent call from Meng Lirong. Meng Lirong had been arguing with the village stonemason who was carving tombstones, and she had asked her son to hurry up and support her.

After unloading the cargo, the three-wheeled vehicle returned to work and flew to the stonemason's yard.

The yard was filled with silent gray tombstones, paying them a respectful salute.

Meng Lirong stood at the doorway, hands on her hips, facing off against four or five men, her face reddened. She complained about the excessive typos on her father's tombstone: the grass radical of "rong" was missing, and the "kou" radical had been changed. As a Chinese teacher, she couldn't stand it and demanded a redo, free of charge.

But the stonemasons disagreed, saying the villagers were uneducated and no one cared about typos. Besides, the draft inscription had already been submitted to their family for approval and had been approved. Tombstones are carved strictly according to the draft, so it's impossible to remake a tombstone for free. They could only cover up the typos and re-carve them, which would inevitably leave an ugly scar on the surface.

Meng Lirong angrily said, "You are lying. I have never seen any manuscript! Who confirmed it? Do you have any evidence?"

The other party was also very confident: "Meng Yanwu! Is he from your Meng family? Call him over and ask him."

Yes, it was her useless youngest brother.

Meng Lirong suddenly lost her voice.

Perhaps the room was too stuffy, and she needed some fresh air. She drifted lightly into the yard and sank down on a stranger's tombstone. The inscription read: "Dead man born April 1, 2005, died March 18, 2025." The inscription was erected by his father and mother.

Meng Weishen circled around her, trying to find a solution for her: "Mom, let's get some help. Call my uncle, my uncle, and my uncle. And my second aunt's cousin, he looks over 200 pounds, he's sure to be useful..."

Meng Lirong pressed her forehead against her forehead and said tiredly, "Why did you call so many men over here? Do you think this is a fight at the school gate? You're not in the right, but you're still making a scene. Aren't you ashamed?"

"Then I'll call my uncle now and ask him what's going on."

"I'm too lazy to ask. It must be that your uncle didn't read the draft carefully at the time. He's incompetent but likes to take credit. That's just how your uncle is. ...Wait, Meng Weishen, who are you calling?"

Meng Weishen didn't mind being embarrassed. He turned on the video call and pointed the camera at the smoking stonemasons:

"Uncle, have you done something stupid again? The inscriptions you've read are all full of typos. Are you worthy of Grandpa? He doted on you so much when he was alive that he let several sisters take turns to be your free babysitters."

The truth sounds the most harsh, and Meng Lirong glared at him.

My uncle kept scratching his head and pretending to be stupid: "Oh, typo? Is there? I don't remember."

"Anyway, redoing the tombstone will cost extra, and we'll have to wait another three months. What do you think we should do?"

"More money? Then please talk to the stonemason again and try to lower the price..."

Seeing that the other party was still trying to shirk responsibility, Jiang Ranxu seemed to accidentally break into the camera and said seriously, "Meng Weishen, your uncle is really shameless. So you have such a relative? Fortunately, my sister didn't go home with you for the holiday, because your family would definitely bully her."

The other party finally agreed to come as soon as possible to discuss a solution with the merchant.

Meng Weishen continued to circle around Meng Lirong. When she slowly stood up, he carefully suggested:

"Mom, since we need to re-carve the tombstone, the person who erects it can add your fourth sister's name."

"who?"

"Fourth sister."

Don't listen to too much truth at once, it can easily backfire. Meng Lirong's face turned pale. "Don't talk nonsense, I don't have a fourth sister. Where did you hear that? Did your uncle tell you?"

"No, it's you..."

Jiang Ranxu hurriedly pulled Meng Weishen behind him and said, "Teacher Meng, you are truly a very strong person, but worrying too much can easily lead to cardiovascular and cerebrovascular diseases. I'm a doctor and I won't lie to you. We have a dinner party at home today, so you should go back and take care of lunch. Leave the tombstone matter to us."