??51: Chapter 51: Assist_1
51: Chapter 51: Assist_1
Li Qiao snorted, “My brother-in-law brought two pounds of at over during New Year’s, and I heard you grumbling about it.
You said, tsk tsk tsk!
A family of five cos over and only brings two pounds of at.
Taking clay from a swallow’s beak, scraping iron from a needle, even the autumn wind has blown to our place!”
Li Qiao imitated Dong Lai’s disdainful expression and eyebrow raise as she spoke, lifting her arm and tucking her hands in before spitting on the ground, “Unfilial descendants!”
She didn’t understand the aning of taking clay from a swallow’s beak, scraping iron from a needle, or the reference to autumn wind at the ti.
She asked the educated youth later.
They said it was just the literal aning, stealing mud from the beak of a swallow and scraping iron from a needle, accusing soone of being stingy.
The autumn wind was about shalessly freeloading off others.
She was angry, but soon she understood; Dong Lai was a stepmother who had to look after more than a dozen mouths to feed, so it was inevitable she felt so resentnt.
If she was to be scolded, then so be it.
Looking back on it now, she was such a silly pig!
Others looked down on her sister, and she still sympathized with their difficulties.
Old Mrs.
Qin almost laughed out loud, she had mimicked her so accurately.
Qin Jin was also holding back laughter, she was just so adorable.
Dong Lai was unable to save face, her complexion turning red and then white, “What are you doing, child?
You’re making us the laughingstock.”
“Who dares to laugh at you?
I’m tired and will excuse myself.” Li Qiao returned to her room and closed the door.
For the sake of her own dignity, Dong Lai forced a stiff smile, “This girl’s acting strange today.
Her grandmother, Jin, there’s a bit of business at ho, so we won’t disturb you any longer.”
“Why not stay for a al before you go?” Old Mrs.
Qin offered politely.
How could Dong Lai stay any longer?
She was about to explode with anger.
“No need, no need for anyone to see
out.
Qiaoqiao, co visit when you have ti.”
She still maintained her polite deanor, which, in turn, made Li Qiao seem unreasonable.
…
Li Qiao was extrely annoyed that her seemingly generous stepmother was actually plotting against her in secret.
She waited by the window until everyone was gone before she would co out.
Old Mrs.
Qin asked, “Qiaoqiao, what happened today?”
Li Qiao didn’t reveal much; family discord was too embarrassing.
“Just had a little conflict with Jinhua, nothing else.” She went back to her room and drew a few vases with simplistic designs, creating models with thin bamboo sticks according to the proportions.
Old Mrs.
Qin picked up the sketchbook and squinted at it, “Qiaoqiao’s drawings are really good, every line and stroke is continuous without a pause.
Your mother-in-law could paint.”
When Jin’s wife was alive, she would hold Jin, who couldn’t yet walk, and was upset one ti when another family’s young girl nearly knocked them over.
She said she wanted to find a daughter-in-law who was calm, not overly active, and excelled in music, chess, calligraphy, and painting.
The day Jin got married and was taken away, she dreamt of her son and daughter-in-law, who chatted away with her, expressing their extre satisfaction with Jin’s bride.
When she woke up, everything had changed!
She was shocked to learn that her extrely satisfying daughter-in-law had been taken away.
She had no idea how long her son had been hanging there, and she was paralyzed by fear at the ti.
She regretted falling asleep; if she hadn’t been sleeping so soundly and dreaming, she might have heard sothing and been able to save him in ti.
Later, when they were preparing for mourning, the neighbor Yu Feng said there was a corpse reanimation.
The child had moved.
“Grandma, Grandma, does Jin look like his mother?
Who does he take after in temperant?
Draw her for ,” Li Qiao stepped forward eagerly.
Old Mrs.
Qin snapped out of her reverie and smiled, “He looks more like your mother-in-law, but he has your grandfather’s temperant, slly and impulsive.”
“Grandma, can’t you complint
for a change?” Qin Jin was extrely frustrated.
“You’re beautiful; isn’t that a complint?” Old Mrs.
Qin said, looking down and starting to twist straw into rope.
Li Qiao almost died laughing; those were complints for won, weren’t they just going to irritate Qin Jin even more?
She changed the subject, “Grandma, let’s not do that right now.
The straw doesn’t look very nice when it’s twisted.
I want to weave it into a rope with so patterns, then string sothing onto it.”
“Why go through all that extra work?”
“It could sell for a higher price.”
“Then you teach , and I can do it myself later.
You should read more books while you’re in school,” Old Mrs.
Qin suggested.
Li Qiao: “There’s no rush with reading.”
Behind closed doors, the grandparents and grandchild were weaving, and Peng Chunhua, upon hearing voices, peered through the cracks in the gate.
She saw Qin Jin sanding bamboo strips, while Li Qiao and Old Mrs.
Qin were tirelessly fiddling with sothing in their hands, but she couldn’t tell what.
She went ho to tell Yu Feng, “They seem to be making sothing.”
Yu Feng, rembering the money she had lost, harbored deep hatred for the Qin family.
But she didn’t dare provoke Qin Jin and had to swallow her grievances like broken teeth.
Upon hearing this, she pondered and said, “Could it be they want to sell sothing?
I’ve heard people say that Loser Qin’s parents were in big business, and his grandfather even went abroad when he was young.
Old Mrs.
Qin surely knows so tricks, and Loser Qin often wanders off.
They say he’s up to no good, but who’s to say it isn’t to take care of so business from the past?
Otherwise, why would they have the money to send Li Qiao to school?
The kids who go to high school in the village say that tuition and dormitory fees alone cost more than five yuan a term, not to ntion daily expenses for food, drink, and necessities—maybe twenty or thirty yuan at least, right?
How much would that be in a year?
Last year, their family made just over two hundred work points and still had to pay their grain tax.
How much could they possibly save?”
“You have a point, they might indeed have so secret to selling things,” responded Peng Chunhua.
Yu Feng: “Let’s just watch them.
If they’re up to no good, we’ll report them.
By then, Li Qiao will also be criticized at school, and might even get expelled.”
Peng Chunhua, intimidated by Yu Feng’s ruthlessness: “But isn’t that a bit extre?
We’re all from the sa village.
A warning from the team should suffice, shouldn’t it?
Public shaming might cost soone their life.”
“We’re from the sa village, but Loser Qin wasn’t behaving like a person.
He extorted so much money from us,” Yu Feng said, still itching with hatred.
….
Li Qiao and Old Mrs.
Qin had been busy all afternoon, making three vases of different shapes, as well as a pen holder.
The pen holder had a protruding bamboo joint that was unaesthetic.
Old Mrs.
Qin: “This one probably won’t sell.
If it doesn’t, we can just keep it for ourselves.”
Li Qiao: “I don’t use pen holders; they just make the desk look ssy.” As she was scraping with a pencil-sharpening knife, she accidentally snapped the bamboo.
Qin Jin: “Well, now it definitely won’t sell.
All that hard work this afternoon gone to waste.”
“Cut it out, you’re always discouraging people,” reprimanded Old Mrs.
Qin.
Li Qiao just smiled.
She loosened the bamboo strip next to the broken piece with her knife, threaded through a thinner one, and slowly ford a floral shape to patch up the damage.
Old Mrs.
Qin lavished praise for a while: “Qiaoqiao has such skilled hands, who did you learn this from?”
“When I was a child, I was really interested in craftwork and would figure things out on my own in my spare ti,” Li Qiao thought it was harmless to say such things since they weren’t from the sa village.
Qin Jin seed to smirk.
Li Qiao t his gaze and felt a sense of panic as if he saw right through her; she quickly looked away.
After dinner, Old Mrs.
Qin lit an oil lamp and continued weaving.
Li Qiao was just as busy.
Qin Jin urged them to rest a couple of tis.
Finally catching on to her grandson’s intention, Old Mrs.
Qin backed him up: “I’m suddenly feeling a bit sleepy.
Qiaoqiao, you should go to bed early, too.
We’ll get up early tomorrow and finish up.”
Li Qiao: “Oh, I’ll just take it to my room and finish it there.
There’s only a little bit left; I have to do it all in one go, otherwise, it won’t feel the sa tomorrow.”
Old Mrs.
Qin: “….”
Li Qiao took her work and left.
Back in her room, Qin Jin waited for her: “Not done yet?
Are you dragging it out on purpose?”
“It’ll be ready in no ti.” Li Qiao hurried the work, stretched with a yawn, got water for washing, and eventually blew out the oil lamp.
It was pitch black for Qin Jin until his eyes adjusted to the darkness; by then, Li Qiao was pulling on her long johns: “Oh, my stomach suddenly doesn’t feel right.
I need to go to the outhouse.”
Qin Jin: “….”
When Li Qiao returned from the latrine and washed up again, she crawled into bed and nudged Qin Jin.
Qin Jin: “I’m dead tired, don’t disturb .” He had waited for her for a long ti, while she dilly-dallied.
He had given up, and now she was stirring things up again.
On purpose, right?
Li Qiao: “….” She hurried because he kept urging her, and now that she was ready, he didn’t want to touch her.
What was that all about?
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