Sweet Wife in My Arms - Chapter 971

Chapter 971: Twenty Dollars

They heard footsteps when the night was pitch-black, and my, if it wasn’t Changsheng’s footsteps! The village houses didn’t have good soundproofing, and there were only three of them living under the same roof, so it wasn’t difficult to identify each other by the sound of their footsteps. Changsheng’s mother’s footsteps were slow and draggy, while Changsheng’s footsteps were impatient and loud.

“Changsheng’s back,” shouted Changsheng’s mother, audibly relieved. As the saying goes, a mother worries as a son journeys. Changsheng was only on a trip downhill, yet it made his mother so worried she couldn’t eat or sleep. She wondered if the old woman would worry herself to death if her son had gone to the town to work. No wonder there was that old saying: a child shouldn’t travel far when their parents are around.

Having a mother is such a wonderful thing.

Yan Huan cuddled against the blanket.

Truly. Her mother had never let her go through any hardships, even though they weren’t well off. Growing up, she didn’t miss out on anything other children had.

She felt a lump in her throat but managed to fight back tears.

She couldn’t cry here. Crying would only make herself suffer. What’s the point of crying if it wouldn’t change anything? This wasn’t a film shoot; this was life. In life, there weren’t any retakes.

That’s why she had to walk forward.

She sat up, slipped into her shoes, and walked to the kitchen to retrieve the warm food in the pot.

Changsheng was starving, and wasted no time in gobbling down the food.

Yan Huan didn’t know what it was like at the bottom of the mountain, but she deduced that Changsheng had not eaten anything from the way he ate. And who could blame him? Earning money wasn’t easy for the villagers; they had to walk long distances to reach the town, where they can sell their goods and purchase some basic necessities.

Changsheng’s mother regarded him with a wide smile, telling him to eat slowly so that he wouldn’t choke.

There was a pile of items on the floor, things which Changsheng had brought back from the village. There wasn’t a single egg, however, and Yan Huan surmised that he must have sold all of them.

“The eggs sold for a good price,” said Changsheng after swallowing a mouthful of rice. “The city folks value them, since our chickens are healthy and organically grown. They fetched such a good price that I had money left even after buying all this stuff!”

“Good, good,” said Changsheng’s mother, all smiles as she sorted out the items. He had bought a bit of every basic ingredient—oil, salt, vinegar, and soy sauce. As Yan Huan brought the bottles into the kitchen, with their labels and everything, she was reminded of the fact that she was still living under the same sky as Lu Yi. Sometimes she felt as though she had time-travelled again and became a farmer.

She opened a packet of salt, filled the salt jar, and sealed the remaining to be stored away. There were only the three of them, and it might take an entire year before they finish the salt in the jar.

When she was done sorting out everything, Changsheng’s mother called out to her and stuffed some money—around 20 dollars—into her hands.

“I cannot take this,” said Yan Huan, passing the money back. She was a freeloader here, and she already owed them too much. How could she take their money?

“Take it. You might need it someday,” insisted Changsheng’s mother, shoving the money back into her hands. “You earned it.”

As much as Yan Huan didn’t want to accept the money, she realized that the money might come in handy on the way home, and so she took the money and stuffed it in her pockets.

It should be enough for a phone call, right? She did need the money; at the very least, she needed enough money to use the payphone once.

When she returned to her room, she stuffed the money under her pillow—twenty dollars, the entirety of her assets.

New Year’s Day was only a couple of days away. Changsheng’s mother cooped up at home, working tirelessly on the three padded jackets. They had cloth and cotton now, so the jackets would be warm even if they didn’t look nice. Changsheng’s mother still had decent eyes, so she wasn’t bad at knitting. Changsheng continued to work in the fields every day. The weather was getting warmer, and the field was in need of weeding. Yan Huan still had a steady stream of customers, and very soon, she had saved up a whole basket of eggs. She kept some for themselves and gave the rest to Changsheng to sell. Changsheng had to go to town for another purpose; to collect the annual government aid.

The village was too poor, and so the government always provided some monetary aid on New Year’s Day. Yan Huan didn’t know how much there would be, but she reckoned it wouldn’t be a small amount. It only comes once a year, so it should at least be enough to let the villagers celebrate a good New Year.

Changsheng gathered all the eggs and went to town again, intent on buying everything they lacked at home.

This time, the expedition party was out for an entire day. As usual, Yan Huan didn’t get to tag along.

She felt the twenty dollars in her pockets and wondered when she could go home. She had been here for nearly half a year. How’s the delicate Xunxun doing? Had she grown bigger? Is she picky with her food? And what about the other two? Have they learned to talk and walk?

“There’s a customer outside, Xiao Yan,” shouted Changsheng’s mother as she directed the customer to sit down.

“Coming!” answered Yan Huan, quickly wiping away the tears in her eyes and stuffing the money back under the pillow.

When she was done, they had five eggs again, which meant that she could now make an egg dish for lunch.

Whenever she made egg dishes, Changsheng’s mother wouldn’t eat any of it, and neither would she. All of it was reserved for Changsheng. Not once did she sneak any bites out of the egg dishes. All she asked for at the moment was warm clothes and a full tummy; eating one less egg didn’t make a difference to her. She didn’t feel indignant at someone else eating what she earned either. After all, she was living under their roof and sharing their meals.

She laid the omelet across the rice reserved for Changsheng and covered the lid of the pot, then came out of the kitchen to have lunch with Changsheng’s mother.