Chen Xian's family lived at the south end of the village.
Uncle Chen's family lives at the north end of the village.
Therefore, it took Erzhu a long time to get to his house.
An old woman in the courtyard was occasionally scraping her scalp with the tip of a pin, wearing a sash on her middle finger, and sewing old clothes with a sewing needle.
As soon as Erzhu entered the door, he called out, "Grandma, have you eaten yet?" The old lady was a little puzzled.
Two pillars?
As soon as Erzhu came in, I felt a little flustered.
Over the years, Da Zhu's father has been lazy all day long, not caring about the family's life at all, and the entire burden of the family has fallen on Chen Da Zhu's shoulders.
Sometimes there wasn't enough food at home, and Dazhu, being rather shy, wouldn't dare to come to our house alone to borrow food.
It was mostly Erzhu who borrowed from them.
It's almost like a conditioned reflex.
The old lady felt a little panicked.
"Haven't eaten yet?"
Erzhu brought over a bowl, smiling, "My father sent me to bring you food."
The old lady was a little confused.
This is truly like the sun rising in the west.
What did they send? Wild vegetable dumplings or steamed corn bread?
As she got closer, the aroma of meat kept wafting into the old lady's nostrils.
Is this meat?
The two boys in the family were playing with slingshots outside.
Smelling the aroma of meat, she ran quickly into the house: "Grandma, Grandma, what's that smell? It smells so good!"
His eyes shone with a clear light, like a hungry cat eyeing a fish.
Chen Jiabao, with a robust and round face, asked, "Second Brother Zhu, who is this?"
He started swallowing his saliva rapidly.
His eyes remained fixed on the amber-colored flesh.
Is this pork?
How can it smell so good?
Uncle Chen returned from herding cattle.
Upon seeing Erzhu, he immediately scolded, "What's wrong with your father? Buying so much meat when it's not a holiday, can't he just eat it all himself? Why send it over? How much meat could he possibly buy? Why send over just a bowl?"
His tone was somewhat reproachful.
But I was secretly delighted.
Brother Xian, you still care about me as your elder after all.
He completely forgot that it was his nephew who had argued with him so many times.
Erzhu explained with a smile, "Isn't this the one thing my dad did a while ago? He took some writing brushes, ink, paper and inkstones from the old village head's house and took them to the Rainforest Bookstore in town. My dad showed the shopkeeper the novels he had written, and the shopkeeper immediately gave my dad a sum of money, saying that if he had any good manuscripts in the future, he would continue to cooperate with his bookstore."
After saying all that,
The old lady and Uncle Chen were both stunned.
He only recently learned that Brother Xian was in the business of making cold noodles.
It's been suspended recently.
I bought some calligraphy brushes from the village head's house these past few days.
He's working on his so-called vernacular novel.
Uncle Chen didn't pay any attention.
It's better than doing nothing and just lying at home sleeping, right?
When they heard that Chen Xian had received writing brushes, ink, paper, and inkstones from the old village head's house, they never imagined that he could make money by writing stories.
And judging from Erzhu's tone...
The bookstore owner really admired those vernacular novels.
Uncle Chen expressed his incomprehension, the wrinkles on his forehead smoothing out and then tightening, then smoothing out again.
Didn't he only study at the school for a year and a half?
Could it be that he truly possesses a talent for creating stories through writing?
Could it be that people can go to another extreme when they are in a state of extreme waste?
He heard it from the village elders when he was young.
Once upon a time, there was a poor scholar who took the imperial examinations repeatedly but failed each time. He kept taking the exams for seventeen or eighteen years.
In a fit of anger, he stopped taking the exam and went into business.
Unexpectedly, this poor scholar started his business from small beginnings and gradually built up his wealth, eventually becoming the richest man in the county.
Could this be human talent?
Could it be that Brother Xian's talent lies in writing storybooks?
Uncle Chen said calmly, "Not bad, not bad. As long as your father works hard in the future and takes good care of the crops in the fields, he will be a good father. By the way, are you still planning to continue your family's cold noodle business?"
"I don't really understand writing storybooks. I always feel that it's a bit unreliable. What if the bookstore doesn't want it after keeping it? In comparison, I think it's more reliable to do a small business. The advantage is that it's a steady stream of income."
Erzhu laughed and said, "Grandpa, don't worry. My dad said we'll continue setting up the stall tomorrow. It's probably because the county magistrate has been controlling the price of grain. The rice and flour business hasn't been doing well lately, so my dad said we can continue selling cold noodles."
Uncle Chen nodded with a smile.
Erzhu prepared to leave.
Uncle Chen instructed, "Old woman, take out a pound of cucumber and a pound of peanuts for Erzhu. I heard his cold noodle business needs these two side dishes."
Erzhu waved his hand in refusal.
Uncle Chen scolded, "Don't refuse. Meat is so precious these days. Besides, your family is going to set up a stall tomorrow and needs these side dishes. If you don't want it, take this bowl of pork back with you."
I had no choice but to accept it.
After Erzhu left.
When Uncle Chen's eldest daughter-in-law, Wang, returned from picking scallions in the field, she saw Erzhuzi leaving with cucumbers and peanuts.
He frowned slightly and muttered to himself, "Dad, is this Xian's son? He's here to borrow grain from us again? A strong, able-bodied man, and all the work at home is done by a half-grown boy. Doesn't he feel ashamed?"
Uncle Chen scolded, "Look at that bowl of meat in the main room. Erzhu's father, that shameful fellow, did you have Erzhu bring it over?"
Wang was slightly stunned, but when she got closer and smelled the strong aroma of the meat, she became slightly dazed.
"Dad, what's wrong with Xian-ge? It's like the sun has risen in the west! We can still eat food from his house, and it's even meat! Meat costs over twenty coins a pound these days, and this much must weigh a pound!"
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