Chapter 168 The Yellowed Diary
Next Monday is the Little New Year, which is usually about a week away from Lunar New Year's Eve here.
The Little New Year is also called the "Kitchen God Festival". People usually clean their homes and worship the Kitchen God, cook glutinous rice balls, and eat Kitchen God candy.
I figured tomorrow would be market day.
Grandma Wen called Cong Chun into the room and stuffed a bundle of money into the boy's hand. It was all red, with about seven or eight bills in the bundle.
“It’s boring in the village. Baochun, take your friends to town tomorrow, or you can go to the county.”
Cong Chun's eyes showed a hint of worry; he didn't want to accept his grandmother's money.
Grandma saved up her money little by little by selling vegetables at a street stall in town.
"And what about you, Grandma?"
Grandma Wen smiled kindly. She was very happy. She had always seen Cong Chun always being alone. Now that he was going to university, he had made so many friends.
The fact that they didn't mind their family's circumstances and were willing to visit their home shows that they were truly sincere towards Cong Chun.
Grandma Wen raised her hand and patted Cong Chun's head.
"It's cold, and Grandma walks slowly. Let's go again when the weather gets warmer."
"Baochun has grown taller."
Cong Chun responded sullenly, the boy's droopy dog-like eyes staring at the old man's graying temples and aged face.
But Grandma, I want you to stay with me.
As he spoke, Cong Chun stuffed the money into his grandmother's hand, his tone stubborn.
"I'll ask Grandma for more money when I run out."
"Otherwise, you'll lose it if you keep it on you."
Grandma Wen paused for a moment, noticing the disappointment in her grandson's voice.
"Okay, then Grandma will keep it for you."
"It's in the blue tin box under the bed. Baochun can get it herself if she needs it."
"Be good, listen to Grandma."
Cong Chun responded and ran off to tidy up the room.
Several young masters stood idly at the door, skipping stones and competing to see who could throw the farthest. The climate here was different from that in Jinghai City; the pond not far from the Cong family's residence was not frozen.
Duan Mingxiao casually picked up a tile and threw it into the pond. It floated on the surface of the pond more than a dozen times, like a dragonfly skimming the water.
Ji Ruhui, standing to the side, confidently threw out a tile, which sank directly into the lake. Young Master Ji's face instantly fell.
Luo Qing, standing to the side, thought the two of them were childish; it was a game that only three-year-olds played, yet these two were having so much fun.
The young master naturally noticed the mocking look in Luo's eyes.
The next second, Duan Mingxiao curled his lips provocatively and handed the tile to Luo Qing in front of him with his slender fingers.
Luo Qing had no idea what kind of scheme this young master was plotting.
Duan Mingxiao's dark eyes held a sharp edge, radiating a blatant mockery as the young master's thin lips uttered a soft utterance.
Luo Qing chuckled and took the tile.
What's Luo Qing afraid of?
The next second, the tile in his hand was thrown out in a spectacular fashion.
Luo Qing's tiles and Ji Ruhui's tiles were exactly the same, and both were sunk into the pond.
Seeing this, Luo Qing pursed her lips and remained silent.
Compared to open and honest mockery, Ji Ruhui's subtle, suppressed laughter carried a stronger sense of sarcasm.
The big star's face turned pale. Even though Luo Qing was a natural actor, his ability to control his emotions was much stronger than that of ordinary people.
Unfortunately, Duan Mingxiao and Ji Ruhui were just too annoying and shameless.
If Duan Mingxiao can do it, there's no reason why Luo Qing can't; it's just a waste of time.
Luo Qing casually picked up a pebble from the side and started practicing. Duan Mingxiao, standing to the side, looked at him meaningfully and smiled.
What an idiot! Geniuses don't need to practice.
Only a genius like him is worthy of Cong Chun.
Immediately afterwards, Young Master Duan patted his brother on the shoulder.
"You keep an eye on him."
"If you can't see the problem properly, bring me your head."
The eldest young master is going to find Cong Chun and enjoy some alone time with her.
Ji Ruhui clenched her fists, forced by Young Master Duan's strength, and could only secretly swing her fists a few times at Duan Mingxiao's back.
Why should Ah-Can leave him here? He's so handsome, and it's dangerous for him to be in an unfamiliar place. He also wants to play with Xiao Congchun. Ji Ruhui let out a wail.
Meanwhile, Duan Mingxiao deliberately slowed his pace and secretly entered Cong Chun's room, preparing to give her a "surprise".
Cong Chun was tidying up the room. He had just finished wiping the windows and was carrying a basin of water, about to pour it out.
The young master's "surprise" plan failed, and the boy was about to speak.
Cong Chun, afraid of spilling water on the boy, could only walk over quickly.
Duan Mingxiao took it.
"How can you secretly clean the room? I'll help you."
Actually, Cong Chun's room wasn't that dirty. It's just that the boy's mind was a bit chaotic right now, and he subconsciously wanted to find something to do. The water was still clear.
Cong Chun moved his lips, originally wanting to tell Duan Mingxiao not to help, but he knew that the young master wanted to help him more.
So Cong Chun asked Duan Mingxiao to sweep the floor for him.
The young master readily agreed.
Cong Chun told Duan Mingxiao to wait there, and that the broom was in the kitchen, and he would go get it by himself.
Duan Mingxiao nodded, glancing at the ground, which was quite clean.
So the boy rolled up his sleeves, revealing his well-defined forearms, and moved the wardrobe to the side, preparing to clean the hard-to-reach corners. These places probably hadn't been cleaned before. The wardrobe was made of solid wood and was quite heavy.
Fine dust particles escaped, and Duan Mingxiao frowned.
Immediately afterwards, a worn-out notebook came into view through the gap in the wardrobe.
Duan Mingxiao bent down, picked it up, squinted and casually flipped through a page. He thought it might be Cong Chun's drawing book or homework, since it was just casually left here and probably not very important.
The young master's expression hardened, and his face darkened.
Upon seeing the date, he realized that the notebook was Cong Chun's diary.
A hint of panic flashed in Duan Mingxiao's eyes, and he subconsciously tried to close the notebook.
But my attention was drawn to a single word on the page I randomly flipped to.
The dusty cover and yellowed pages were filled with Cong Chun's past thoughts.
The page in front of us reads:
Friday, August 12th, heavy rain.
(It rained so hard today, and Grandpa's grave was washed away again.)
(Just went with Grandma to repair the tomb for the fifth time. Grandpa likes peanuts, so we boiled some and brought them with us.)
(The house isn't very sturdy either; it always leaks when it rains.)
(I don't like rainy days because my socks get wet easily. My grandma often braves the rain to set up a vegetable stall in town. I wish I had the money to open a vegetable shop for her in town.)
(Today I complained to my grandpa that my classmates always say I'm stupid for some reason.)
(The word "stupid" is actually quite cute; it has "spring" on top and two worms lying below, but I don't like them saying that about me.)
(They said I was filthy like an earthworm, and they even put bugs in my pencil case.)
(I always get first place in exams! And insects are kind of cute, earthworms are beneficial insects. If I were an insect, I'd definitely be one of those beneficial insects that doesn't eat vegetable leaves from the ground.)
…[The paper surface shows light, diffused water stains.]
(I miss my grandpa.)
(I don't like being a bug.)
There was a grade sheet tucked next to it. It was maliciously covered with the word "stupid," even the first place ranking was written on it.
It was also altered to "-100th place".
Duan Mingxiao clutched the yellowed paper in his hand. The boy pursed his lips, his throat felt like it was blocked by a wet cotton ball, and his heart felt like it was being squeezed by an invisible pair of large hands.
Cong Chun returned just then with a broom. He stared at Duan Mingxiao's broad back and spoke softly.
"I've brought the broom."
The next second, Cong Chun froze on the spot. What came into his view was slightly red eyes, and a hoarse male voice came to his ears.
"Cong Chun, I'm sorry."
A few seconds later, Cong Chun stepped forward, stood on tiptoe, raised her hand to touch the boy's face, frowned as she looked at Duan Mingxiao, her eyes filled with deep worry.
"Ah...you're crying."
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