"Oh, itâs Xiaochun."
The phone screen shook, and an old man with a short, stiff mustache, a face full of deep wrinkles, sunken brown eyes, and a head of disheveled gray hair appeared on the video.
"Yeah, Grandpa, itâs me, Xiaochun."
"I called you in the afternoon, but no one answered. HeiwaâEr kept telling me you must be in class."
Mo Jingchun nodded and smiled, "I was in class."
HeiwaâEr, which is the nickname of Mo Jingchunâs uncle Zhou Xing, is a name only Grandpa still calls him by after all these years.
When Mo Jingchun first heard Uncleâs nickname, he laughed for a good while, and even got punished by his dad to stand in the corner. If it wasnât for Grandpaâs protection, he almost got spanked.
If Mo Jingchun guessed right, Uncle must be looking a bit dark-faced right now.
"Xiaochun, are you and your sister doing well in Jing City?"
"Grandpa, my sister and I are doing well. The teachers and classmates are taking good care of us."
"Ah, thatâs good. Youâre such good kids. Xiaochun, remember in your heart when others help you. They are the benefactors who lent you a hand in your most difficult times."
Mo Jingchun nodded earnestly, "I know, Grandpa."
"As long as you know."
"They say people in the North eat wheat. You must be unused to the food there."
Holding Candy, Mo Jingchun adjusted her to a more comfortable position, then smiled and said, "No, thereâs everything here you could want. Rice, buns, noodles, you can choose."
"Tsk, big cities are different, indeed."
Mo Jingchun saw longing in those cloudy eyes. He knew why Grandpa yearned for the big city. Grandpa had never left An Province in his life, from birth till now. Even visits to the provincial capital could be counted on one hand.
Every time they sat together, warming themselves by the stove, Grandpa would always recount stories from when he was young.
Every time, telling the same stories over and over, but around the hearth, no matter the age, no one interrupted him; everyone just listened quietly.
The parentsâ generation resonated with him because they shared those sufferings in their childhood, though slightly better off than Grandpaâs generation.
The younger generation listened to vivid and real stories, wholeheartedly engaged, but had no concept of how tough their eldersâ lives truly were.
Because Mo Jingchunâs generation, while their childhoods might not measure up to now, never went hungry or felt cold.
That is a blessing, something their ancestors fought for with their lives for their descendants.
Grandpa had also said he wanted to see the big cities, but undoubtedly, Uncle and the other elders unanimously denied it. Grandpaâs health couldnât handle such a journey.
If something went wrong along the way, no one could bear that responsibility. Moreover, thereâs a saying in the countryside about falling leaves returning to their roots.
"Xiaochun, do you have enough money there? Big cities spend a lot, so save where you can, but donât skimp on what you shouldnât."
"You and your sister are both growing, so donât skimp on food."
"If you run out of money, call me. I still have a bit saved up."
Mo Jingchun hastily refused, "No need for your money, Grandpa. I have enough to finish university with my sister. Once I graduate and find a job, thereâs nothing to worry about."
Even if Mo Jingchun ran out of money, heâd rather borrow than ask Grandpa for it.
Mo Jingchun knew Grandpa had a little money, as everyone did.
Without labor, where would money come from? It was what Mo Jingchunâs mom and aunt gave every New Year and Mid-Autumn Festival.
Each time it wasnât much, usually just 500 yuan, but Grandpa saved it all.
With a sigh, Grandpa didnât say anything.
That day, he sent his own daughter up the mountain as a father. The heartache of a white-haired person sending off another with black hair is hard to imagine.
"Xiaochun, a few days ago, I saw a pepper tree, and I thought Iâd make a teething stick for Candy. Iâve finished it, so I called to get your address. Iâll have HeiwaâEr take it to the post for you these days."
As Grandpaâs words ended, Mo Jingchun heard Uncle Zhou Xingâs voice in the background.
"Your grandpa cut it from someone elseâs mountain without saying a word. I went to apologize for him."
Mo Jingchun touched his nose, not daring to speak. Cutting a small tree in the countryside could be insignificant or major, but as long as you notify others beforehand, it shouldnât be an issue.
But thatâs only if you give notice first. No wonder Uncle was a bit upset.
"What about me cutting Zhang Tiepingâs pepper tree? Even his father, Zhang Jixiang, would call me grandpa when he was around."
"Youâre amazing, youâre amazing."
After bickering with Uncle, Grandpa turned back to Mo Jingchun, saying, "Thatâs about it. Rest well over there, donât get sick. If you pass it to Candy, whoâll be there to look after her?"
"Got it, Grandpa. You take care at home, too. Go out and play sometimes, donât always think about going to the mountains. Let Uncle handle the poria harvest."
"Alright, alright, hanging up now."
The phone screen wavered again, returning to Uncleâs hand.
"Well then, nothing else, Iâll hang up. Your Auntâs cookingâs done, weâll eat in a bit."
"Okay."
Beep~
After the WeChat video call ended, Mo Jingchun leaned back on the sofa to collect his thoughts, then sent his school address to Uncle Zhou Xing.
"Bro bro."
"Brother."
"Bro bro."
"Brother."
...
At the kitchen doorway, Candy mumbled "bro bro" with a bottle in her arms, while apron-clad Mo Jingchun stir-fried in the kitchen.
Todayâs single dish had meat, Mo Jingchunâs favorite, stir-fried green peppers with shredded meat.
After dinner, doing the dishes, and giving Candy a bath, this was Mo Jingchunâs daily routine upon returning to their apartment each afternoon.
At night, the little one in Mo Jingchunâs arms fell asleep without him noticing, her tiny tongue slightly sticking out, adorably.
Mo Jingchunâs hands typed rapidly on the laptop keyboard. He found he liked the feel of typing, and Candy was accustomed to the sound, it lulled her to sleep like a lullaby.
[Daily votes request, monthly votes*:àźÙ©(àčÂŽá”`)Û¶àź:*]