.jpg)
Chapter 50: Tricycle
Are you trying another trick since the first one didn't work?
─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───
Qin Feng’s eldest cousin opened his mouth but choked on his words. “...Poor!”
With a sharp motion, he slammed the door shut.
Qin Feng sneered, pushing his cart into the courtyard.
As he absentmindedly looked down, he crouched and picked up something from the ground, unable to suppress a smile.
—A stroke of luck for a novice indeed. His father had made quite a haul this time.
“What are you dawdling for?” Madam Zhou called out loudly. “Come in and eat.”
Qin Feng pushed the cart inside and handed something to his distant uncle.
His uncle took it and saw three copper coins from the Qianlong era. “Qianlong coins aren’t worth much. Plenty of kids in our village sew these into shuttlecocks.”
Madam Zhou nodded. “We have quite a few at home. Your grandmother used to save them for emergencies, but who would’ve thought that the city banners would change hands so often? One day it’s one way, the next day it’s another. Even the exchange rates can’t keep up with them.”
Qin Dashan agreed, “I still have two Yuan Shikai silver dollars at home. My wife said that when our two daughters get married, we’ll melt them down and make bracelets for each of them. The money our sons earn these past two years—we won’t take a single cent. We’ll just consider those bracelets part of their dowries.”
Qin Feng, knowing that his family, like their neighbors, hadn’t yet split households, remarked, “Then you’d better discuss it with my younger cousins. Or maybe just save them and sell them as antiques later.”
Qin Dashan shrugged. “Yuan Shikai coins aren’t worth much. Even after ten or twenty years, their value might only double at best. Even if a few extra zeros are added later, it won’t be of much use. Silver bracelets, on the other hand, are much easier to sell.” He glanced at the small incense burner in Qin Feng’s hands. “It’s just like this thing. Selling it as scrap metal is a waste, but as an antique, it won’t fetch a great price either—like a chicken rib, too valuable to discard but not worth much to keep.”
Madam Zhou commented, “Still, you made a profit this trip.”
Qin Dashan agreed, “Even with just these little things, we’ve made some money.” Then he turned to his third cousin. “Tomorrow, let’s start collecting more of these. If something looks old, we’ll keep it for ourselves.”
Old Qin chuckled. “That’s no longer junk collecting.”
Qin Feng glanced around cautiously and lowered his voice. “Gold is valued in troubled times, antiques in peaceful ones. If you can get your hands on them, that’s fine, but since you don’t understand their worth, you should only collect them as scrap. Otherwise, you’ll suffer a huge loss sooner or later.”
Qin Dashan nodded. “We’re not greedy. We’ll just treat them as old junk. Besides, with our family’s situation, even if we found a real treasure, we wouldn’t be able to keep it safe.”
Hearing this, Qin Feng felt reassured.
"Then go ahead and collect. In a couple of days, I’ll get you a tricycle for the weekend."
Madam Zhou's eyes widened in disbelief. "What did you just say?"
Qin Dashan, worried that the junk collection business might collapse before it even started, quickly waved it off. "No need, no need. Your father and I just stroll around in the morning, then find a street corner to rest. By noon, we head to your uncle’s place for a meal and rest at his shop until four or five in the afternoon. We don’t need a tricycle."
"But doesn’t walking for an hour straight tire your legs?" Qin Feng asked.
Qin Dashan shrugged. "What’s the big deal? It’s not like we’re rushing the whole time. There are plenty of shaded spots where we can rest. Besides, we’re not looking to make big money."
Old Qin nodded. "Don’t buy one. In two months, school starts again. Who’s going to ride that tricycle once it's just sitting there?"
Qin Dashan agreed. "Your aunt won’t have time—she has to help your cousins take care of the kids. I’d be going alone, and I’d lose track of all the expenses. Besides, once school starts, your father will be busy preparing for the harvest."
At his words, Qin Feng thought about their large family. With over twenty acres of land, they had a lot to do—first picking cotton, then harvesting soybeans, followed by corn, and finally plowing the fields to plant wheat.
Once the wheat was planted, the whole family would have to dry the harvested cotton and soybeans during the day to prevent mold in case of rain. At night, they’d still be busy shelling corn.
"Alright, then you two keep at it for now. If you make enough, you can buy a tricycle later, and we can share it during the busy farming season."
Qin Dashan was about to refuse, but then he remembered they had planted six acres of cotton this year to make bedding for his daughter’s wedding. The cotton fields weren’t close either—at least a mile away. Once the cotton bloomed, they’d have to pick it daily, with each trip yielding dozens of pounds. A tricycle would definitely come in handy.
And when it was time to harvest the soybeans, he could even bring his grandson and granddaughter to the fields.
"Tricycles aren’t cheap," Qin Dashan warned his third cousin.
The old patriarch chuckled. "I know where to collect scrap."
The implication was clear—they could make enough money.
Madam Zhou, feeling hungry, said, "Let’s talk about it tomorrow. Dashan, why don’t you stay and eat at our place?"
Qin Dashan shook his head. "The family must be waiting for me." As he was about to leave, he glanced at the items in his hand. "Find me a newspaper."
"I’ll get it," Qin Feng said, heading inside to grab two sheets of newspaper. He also picked a few tomatoes and cucumbers.
The villagers loved to gossip. Even though Qin Dashan’s small incense burner was a newly made item, as long as he refused to show it to others, by the next day, rumors would spread that he had picked up an antique while collecting junk.
The crackdown had ended years ago, but the world was still unstable. If such rumors spread, within three days, thieves would surely come knocking.
If they only stole things, that would be one thing. But if they couldn’t find anything and ended up hurting someone—or if they weren’t satisfied with just an incense burner—then it would be real trouble.
One of Qin Dashan’s sons had gone south with Wang Genbao’s brother to source goods, while another was selling in the city. They knew the streets were more chaotic than before and had warned Qin Dashan. Even their grain wasn’t stored only in their own house—it was divided among the homes of his sons to avoid attracting unwanted attention.
When Qin Feng covered the items with cucumbers, Qin Dashan immediately understood.
At home, when his family asked what he had brought back, he didn’t answer directly, worried that the children might accidentally spill the secret.
Seeing how cautious Qin Feng was, Madam Zhou began to feel uneasy about keeping the copper coins her mother-in-law had left behind.
After dinner, she exchanged a glance with Old Qin.
The old man took the grandchildren out to play with the village kids.
Madam Zhou called Qin Feng into her bedroom, then had him move the bed aside. From beneath it, she dug out a small clay jar.
Qin Feng was stunned.
He had never seen copper coins growing up. He had thought there were only a few, hidden in the secret compartments at the bottom of his mother’s wardrobe.
But they had been buried underground all this time.
"Mom, if it’s not a whole jar, it wouldn’t be worthy of the hole it was buried in."
Madam Zhou scoffed. "You think the Qin family was some wealthy landlord? This little bit was from when your grandfather worked in the city for a rich family years ago. It was part of his wages." As she spoke, she brushed off the soil covering the jar. "Your grandfather was afraid that none of his three sons would be filial, so he told your grandmother not to take it out lightly. Even your aunt didn’t know about it. He said that when she could no longer move, whoever took care of her would inherit it. Your grandmother only told me about it three days before she passed."
Recalling the past, she shook her head. "That old lady wasn’t even worried about falling asleep one day and never waking up, leaving us to throw this jar away like junk."
Qin Feng raised an eyebrow. "Then you should tell my dad to check every broken jar before tossing it—who knows how many hidden treasures you all have stashed away."
Madam Zhou nodded in agreement.
Qin Feng had only been joking, but seeing her take it seriously left him speechless.
"I’m serious," she whispered. "Your eldest aunt’s money is hidden under the paper covering the table in her bedroom."
Qin Feng was curious. “Who told you that?”
“One night, her family was arguing. I had already blown out the lamp, but your father forgot to take the chamber pot. When I went to the corner to grab it, I overheard bits and pieces. Either one of her daughters-in-law or her own daughter found the stash and took several large-denomination bills.”
“She sure knows how to hide things. A thief could rack his brains and still never think of that spot.”
Madam Zhou nodded. The best part was that she didn’t have to worry about mice eating the money.
“Help me open this stopper. It’s been stuck for too long.”
Qin Feng took the jar and yanked at the cloth sealing its mouth. With a firm pull, he tore it open, releasing a strange smell. “How many years has this been in here?”
“Almost twenty. Ever since your grandmother passed, I haven’t taken it out.” Madam Zhou grabbed a fan and waved it around before pouring everything out.
Qin Feng expected the contents to scatter everywhere, but instead, they were wrapped in fabric strips.
Madam Zhou picked up a small bundle. “This one has a string of ten coins. There are a little over five full strings in total. Looks like they’re from different eras. You keep them. That lock on your cabinet—I searched through every drawer and cupboard, but I couldn’t find the key. You’ve hidden it well.”
Qin Feng wasn’t surprised at all.
Considering how his mother always complained about his spending but never actually asked him for money, it would’ve been strange if she hadn’t rummaged through his things trying to find the key.
“Hearing that, I definitely won’t tell you where it is.” Qin Feng glanced at the coins on the ground. “You’re giving all of these to me? Aren’t you afraid I won’t be filial in the future?”
Madam Zhou shook her head.
Things weren’t like before. Back then, a single copper coin could mean life or death.
Besides, her son wouldn’t even care about such a small stash of coins.
“A filial person will stay filial, with or without these.”
Qin Feng grabbed an old newspaper. “Wrap them up. I’ll put them in my cabinet later.”
“Don’t store them with that amber piece. It looks like jade—I don’t want it getting stained.”
Qin Feng nodded. “I’ll find a wooden box to keep them separate. If it gets cloudy or rainy, don’t let Dad go out.”
“Don’t worry.”
Madam Zhou found out that her old man had eaten at her older brother’s shop today. That meant he was afraid of their son—if he still wanted to continue working, he didn't dare to compromise his health.
“You shouldn’t stay up too late tonight either. Go to bed early and wake up early to work.”
Qin Feng thought that sleeping at ten was just right, but his mother always went to bed by seven in the winter and no later than nine in the summer. If he tried to explain that to her, she wouldn’t understand. So, he just said, “Got it. I’m heading back now.”
Madam Zhou handed him a flashlight.
Qin Feng glanced outside—it was pitch black. Then he remembered today was the seventeenth of the lunar month—Seventeen and eighteen, dark as a cave.
The kids were probably not having much fun playing in this darkness. As soon as he stepped outside, he called them to go home.
Just as he expected, the five brothers immediately came over.
Qin Feng noticed Miaomiao trying to run and quickly warned, “Walk slowly!”
Miaomiao stopped, took the flashlight from him, handed it to his older brother, then clung to Qin Feng’s arm, whining, “I can’t walk anymore.”
Qin Feng replied, “Then sleep at Grandpa’s place. Don’t go home.”
The little boy smacked his arm in frustration. “Why can’t you just go along with what I said?”
“Oh, so I’ll end up carrying you?” Qin Feng gave him a side glance.
The boy immediately huffed, “I must be stupid!” After a pause, he grumbled, “I actually thought Dad was soft-hearted.”
Gu Wuyi asked, “So this was just your backup plan after the first one failed?”
Miaomiao suddenly turned to glare at him.
—Could you shut up?
Gu Wuyi took his hand. “Here, let me lend you some strength.”
Having someone to hold onto was better than nothing.
The boy trudged along, sneaking glances at his father as he walked.
Qin Feng felt a chill down his spine. “It’s been a while since we used the feather duster at home, hasn’t it?”
The boy immediately snapped his head forward and walked faster.
When they got home, the boy obediently followed his older brother to the bathroom to wash up.
The next morning, just like usual, he woke up, opened his eyes for a second, then quickly shut them again, pulling the thin towel blanket over his head.
Fu Qingyun sat up and, seeing his act of self-deception, gave him a slap on the butt.
The boy kicked at him in response.
Fu Qingyun grabbed his foot and half-dragged him off the bed. “Don’t make Dad come wake you up.”
The boy reluctantly sat up, grumbling in frustration, “I already promised him I’d study hard, get into college—why do I still have to learn the erhu?”
Fu Qingyun didn’t know why either. But after yesterday, he was sure Grandpa wasn’t just randomly teaching things, and he actually found it kind of interesting.
In his past life, his early years in the entertainment industry had been tough. Besides having a low education level—needing pinyin annotations for many scripts—he also lacked a special skill.
Forget the erhu, even if he could play the suona, at least the media would have something to write about. When TV stations held talent shows, he could’ve had a chance to participate.
Thinking about it, he had only just reached the peak in his past life before crashing down—he never even got to enjoy the view. That unwillingness still burned inside him. He wanted to walk the same road again.
This time, he aimed for film school. With formal training, it should be easier than before. He wanted to keep those who once kicked him while he was down under his feet for good.
The problem was whether his dad would agree.
But his arts and college entrance exams were still years away. By then, the internet would be widespread, and maybe his dad’s mindset would shift enough to accept the idea of a PhD holder’s son going into acting.
“Brother, what are you doing?”
Miaomiao, seeing him lost in thought, poked him.
Fu Qingyun snapped back to reality. “I was thinking about how to answer you.”
“Did you figure it out?”
Fu Qingyun nodded. “It’ll come in handy. When you’re in college, there’ll be New Year’s Eve performances every year. If you know how to play, you can sign up instead of just watching other people perform.”
“New Year’s Eve? You mean Western New Year?” Miaomiao looked at him in disbelief. “Why would anyone play Blind Ah Bing’s Beggar’s Song on such a festive day?”
“Pfft!”
Fu Lingyun couldn’t sleep anymore and sat up.
Miaomiao rolled his eyes at his third brother.
Fu Qingyun felt both exhausted and impressed.
Fu Lingyun said, “I’ll go with you. I can recite my lessons while you practice.”
Miaomiao let out a long sigh. He would rather practice calligraphy than learn the erhu.
Seeing how much he was suffering, Fu Qingyun suggested, “How about we switch later?”
“Switch?”
Fu Qingyun nodded.
Miaomiao touched his short hair, still feeling awkward about it. “Can I try it out first?”
Fu Qingyun nodded again.
The boy perked up immediately.
Seeing this, Fu Qingyun hurried him to change clothes and go downstairs before he could change his mind.
The brothers washed up quietly, careful not to wake Qin Feng.
As they put on their jackets and headed east, Miaomiao glanced back. “Dad sure can sleep.”
Fu Lingyun said, “I woke up to go to the bathroom last night, and the study light was still on.”
Miaomiao frowned. “I thought Dad wasn’t busy?”
Fu Qingyun explained, “With Northern Railway Factory holding half of the national train market, how could he not be busy? He just doesn’t think about work when he’s resting, so we get the illusion that he’s free.”
Miaomiao understood now. “Then I won’t drag him to play with me at night anymore.”
Fu Qingyun ruffled his little head. “If Dad were really busy, he wouldn’t play with us at all. He's not a soft-hearted person who doesn't know what's important.”
“Exactly!” Miaomiao nodded seriously. “Dad has the hardest heart. I’m so young, the weather’s so hot, and he still makes me learn the erhu.”
Fu Qingyun immediately lost interest in arguing with him. “Hurry up, Grandpa’s probably getting impatient.”
Old Qin was still dreaming.
Yesterday, he hadn’t walked for more than a few hours, and though the heat was unbearable, he felt fine otherwise. He rarely walked dozens of miles in a day, so the moment his head hit the pillow, he was out. And he had to admit—going out for a stroll really did help him sleep better.
But he had slept too well.
Normally, he would go to bed around eight and wake up at two or three in the morning, unable to fall back asleep. He’d then chat with Madam Zhou for a while until around five, when he would get up to feed the livestock, clean the pens, and start breakfast.
Today, though, Madam Zhou woke up at her usual time and called him several times, but he didn’t respond. Worried, she leaned in to check his breathing. Confirming he was still alive, she let out a sigh of relief—only to grow concerned that he might not be able to sleep anymore after this.
By five o’clock, Zhou was feeling sore from lying down for so long. She called him again, and though he opened his eyes, he promptly rolled over for another nap.
It wasn’t until Miaomiao knocked on the door that Old Qin had no choice but to get up.
As Madam Zhou put on her shoes, she muttered, “And you still plan to collect scrap like this?”
Old Qin rubbed his eyes and shook his head to wake himself up. “It’s just the first day. I’ll get used to it.”
Madam Zhou hadn’t been too thrilled about their son buying a tricycle for him, and seeing him like this only made her more worried. When she went to bring steamed buns to Qin Feng, she told him about his father’s condition, just in case the old man overworked himself and fell ill.
Qin Feng held back a laugh, took the steamed buns, and nodded. He also reminded his mother not to steam buns at noon—it was far too hot.
Waving him off, Madam Zhou returned to cooking.
She figured some rice congee with a side of smashed cucumbers would be enough.
But too much congee could cause acid reflux, so instead, she made a big pot of noodle soup. After smashing the cucumbers, she also fried two eggs.
When Old Qin came back and saw the golden fried eggs, he was astonished. “What’s the occasion?”
“Do I need a special occasion to fry some eggs?”
Old Qin squinted at her suspiciously. “Did our son say something to you again?”
“Are you eating or not?” Zhou glared at him.
Who wouldn’t want to eat something good?
Although Old Qin was getting on in years, he was still human—so he immediately tore the steamed bun in half, stuffed the fried egg inside, and added some cucumber slices. “Doesn’t this look like that ‘hamburger’ our son was talking about?”
Madam Zhou glanced over and saw the yolk breaking, dripping down the bun. “Looks to me like you’re not tired at all.”
Noticing the mess, Old Qin hurriedly took a big bite to stop more egg from leaking out.
Speaking of yesterday, Madam Zhou had thought he would come back after he and Qin Dashan had gone out for a stroll and would feel uncomfortable under other people’s stares and come right back home. She hadn’t expected him to last until sundown.
Figuring today would be the same, she washed some tomatoes and cucumbers for him to take along. She also picked out a small watermelon and wrapped it in newspaper.
Old Qin packed his water bottle and found his umbrella—after all, summer weather was as unpredictable as a child’s temper. When he stepped outside, he noticed an extra pile of tattered school bags on the cart. “With all this stuff, people might think Dashan and I are going on a trip.”
“Aren’t you?” Zhou asked.
Qin waved her off.
—Too early in the morning to argue with you.
Then, he loaded up the paper and books he had collected yesterday.
Madam Zhou stuffed in some torn fabric as well and glanced at the pile of scrap metal in a broken basin. “Not selling this?”
“I’ll wait until there’s more. Otherwise, they might weigh it along with the books.” That was something her older brother had warned him about.
Madam Zhou still wasn’t convinced. “If you get tired, take a break.”
Old Qin nodded. “Go on home. No need to make this look like Zhu Yingtai and Liang Shanbo’s farewell scene.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Madam Zhou asked.
At that moment, their neighbor across the street came out with a bowl of food. Overhearing the conversation, he chuckled, “The Eighteen Farewells! Haven’t you heard of it?”
【The Eighteen Farewells (十八相送) is a famous scene from the Chinese opera Butterfly Lovers (梁祝), which tells the tragic love story of Liang Shanbo and Zhu Yingtai. In this scene, Zhu Yingtai, disguised as a man, accompanies Liang Shanbo for eighteen sections of the journey as he leaves for home. She repeatedly hints at her true identity and feelings, but Liang, unaware of her disguise, fails to understand. This farewell marks a crucial moment in their story before the eventual revelation of Zhu’s identity and their doomed romance.】
Madam Zhou had heard of the play’s name before but didn’t know it was about Zhu Yingtai and Liang Shanbo. “These two—one is worse at speaking like a normal person than the other.”
Old Qin, in a good mood, didn’t argue with her. “When you get a chance, remind Miaomiao and Qingyun to keep practicing what I taught them. Miaomiao on the suona, and Qingyun on the erhu.”
“That changed?”
Old Qin nodded. “Asking Miaomiao to play the erhu is like sentencing him to death. But he actually likes the suona. Takes after Xiao Feng.”
Madam Zhou was speechless but amused. “He looks so much like Xiao Feng. Who else could he be from?” she said. “Hurry up and go.”
Old Qin called out toward the back of the house. Soon, Qin Dashan came out carrying a water bottle and a bag.
Yesterday, Qin Dashan hadn’t brought anything because his wife thought he was just going out for a change of scenery.
But not only did he manage to collect scrap, he even found something that might be an antique. His sister-in-law, Qin Feng’s aunt, was very supportive, so she packed plenty of food for him as well.
Feeling motivated, Qin Dashan asked as soon as he got closer, “Third Brother, where are we going today?”
Yesterday morning, the two had wandered around aimlessly like headless flies. But in the afternoon, they figured out a strategy. Today, Old Qin led him to the back gate of the district government office, where he handed a cigarette to the gatekeeper.
The gatekeeper, who was about his age, saw the two elderly men collecting scrap in the sweltering heat. He assumed they were struggling financially, despite their somewhat neat clothing, which he thought must be their best attire. Feeling sympathetic, he told them to wait while he went inside to ask around.
Qin Dashan couldn’t help but remark, “Some city folks are actually pretty nice.”
Old Qin chuckled. “If everyone were bad, wouldn’t the world be in chaos?”
“That’s true,” Qin Dashan nodded. Just then, the gatekeeper came out of the office, followed by a middle-aged man.
The middle-aged man met their gaze and waved them over.
The two of them pulled their wooden cart inside. The man shouted into the office, and soon, two young men came out, each carrying a large bundle of newspapers and manuscript paper.
Judging by the weight, Qin Dashan estimated it to be at least ten kilos. He couldn’t help but glance at Old Qin.
Old Qin was excited too, but he knew how to keep his composure. He carefully weighed the items, paid the money at a steady pace, and maintained an air of calmness. His unhurried manner left such an impression that the middle-aged man couldn’t help but look at him several times.
Old Qin pretended not to notice, loaded everything onto their cart, thanked the man, and walked off with Qin Dashan.
Once they had put some distance between themselves and the government office, Qin Dashan asked, “Why didn’t you tell them we live nearby? That way, they could sell to us again next time.”
“Some people don’t like others getting too chummy with them,” Old Qin shook his head. “Let’s go to the recycling center. Selling this load will cover our lunch. Whatever we collect in the afternoon will be pure profit.”
Qin Dashan loved chatting and knew all sorts of random things, but dealing with government officials was new to him. So, he believed Old Qin’s words without question.
Actually, Old Qin was afraid of being recognized. Some of these people had been to the village school, and some had worked at the Northern Railway Factory. Simply put, he was worried that others might think he was embarrassing Qin Feng.
For example, he didn’t think his son’s unmarried status was shameful, but he couldn’t guarantee that everyone felt the same way. After all, most people still believed that a man should marry when he reached a certain age, and that collecting scrap was disgraceful. He couldn’t ignore how others viewed them.
Qin Dashan asked, “So, after we sell this stuff, should we head back near that big house?”
“You still want to find another incense burner? Luck like that doesn’t come twice. The people in that big house let us clean up yesterday because the owner is just a nouveau riche. He treats antiques like junk.”
Qin Dashan had been hoping for another lucky find. “Then what do we do?”
Old Qin thought for a moment. “Let’s go collect in the urban villages. People there don’t have money. They’ll even part with an old bowl just to get some cash. This time, let’s not split the haul right away. Just keep a rough record, and when school starts, we’ll have Xiao Feng take a look before we divide things up. He may not know much about antiques, but at least he knows more than we do.”
Qin Dashan chuckled. “Xiao Feng didn’t even recognize amber. You think he knows more?”
Old Qin had noticed his son’s reaction yesterday. It wasn’t that Qin Feng didn’t recognize amber—it was that he couldn’t believe they had actually gotten a real piece.
Otherwise, with his disdain for ordinary things, how could he have casually stuffed the amber into his pocket?
“If he doesn’t recognize something, can’t he look it up?” Old Qin retorted. “Give you a book—would you know everything in it?”
Qin Dashan had to admit, “Right, I forgot we can just look it up. Alright, we’ll do as you say. So, when is Xiao Feng buying us a tricycle?”
“Should be soon,” Old Qin replied, thinking about his son’s filial nature. Maybe he’d even get one by this afternoon.
Sure enough, Qin Feng was also worried about his father overexerting himself, so he left work half an hour early and took the factory’s car into the city to get him a tricycle.
When the tricycle arrived home, the rear panel was lowered, revealing a vehicle nearly as long as a flatbed cart but even wider.
Seeing that it was a size larger than most tricycles, Madam Zhou couldn’t help but say, “How many days do you think your father can keep this up? Couldn’t you have gotten a smaller one?”
Qin Feng replied, “It wouldn’t fit your five big grandsons.”
Madam Zhou was instantly speechless.
Qin Feng folded up the cart panel and asked, “Dad’s not back yet?”
Madam Zhou said, “He’s resting at your uncle’s place until 4:30. Even if he wanders around for another two hours before coming home, he won’t be back until seven.”
Qin Feng turned to see Miaomiao staring at the tricycle with bright, curious eyes.
“Hop on,” he said.
Miaomiao immediately climbed onto the tricycle.
The neighbor from across the street couldn’t help but say, “You shouldn’t ride it—let your mother try instead.”
Qin Feng was puzzled.
“You can ride a bicycle, right? But this is different. People who know how to ride a bike are more likely to tip over on a tricycle. Your mother doesn’t know how to ride a bike, so she’ll actually find this easier.”
What kind of logic was that?
The neighbor added, “If you don’t believe me, let your mother try.”
Thinking that a tricycle should be more stable, Qin Feng let his mother give it a go.
Madam Zhou had Miaomiao get off first to prevent her from getting hurt in case the tricycle tipped over.
Miaomiao, knowing that his grandmother couldn’t ride a bike, didn’t dare stay on.
Qin Feng held the tricycle steady while his mother cautiously got on. The moment she stepped on the pedals, she smoothly rode off.
Madam Zhou was stunned.
Qin Feng couldn’t believe it either. The same woman who was extra cautious even when pushing Gu Wuyi’s lightweight bicycle was now effortlessly riding a tricycle.
Seeing their disbelief, the neighbor smirked and said, “What did I tell you?”
Qin Feng declared, “Let me try!”
Madam Zhou turned the tricycle around and rode it back to their doorstep, then handed it to Qin Feng.
Qin Feng tried his best to control the tricycle, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep it steady. He could only watch helplessly as he veered straight toward the family’s manure pit.
“Dad! Dad—!” Gu Wuyi panicked and grabbed onto the cart, shouting.
Qin Feng quickly hit the brakes.
Screech! The tricycle came to an abrupt stop.
Still shaken, Qin Feng asked in confusion, “What’s wrong with this thing?”
The neighbor shook his head. “I can’t explain why, but most people who can ride a bicycle struggle with a tricycle.”
Qin Feng suspected that only Qin Dashan would be able to ride the tricycle—since he didn’t know how to ride a bicycle.
When the two old men returned, sure enough, his father couldn't manage it.
Qin Dashan, being several years younger than Old Qin, as well as taller and sturdier, was the perfect choice to ride the tricycle while carrying Old Qin.
With that, Qin Feng no longer had to worry about his father overexerting himself. He handed the tricycle over to them and didn’t concern himself with how they collected scraps. He only had to help sort the recyclables each evening.
Although they only kept scrap metal, after two months, they had accumulated nearly two full boxes.
Qin Feng set aside the items that seemed like antiques, letting his father and uncle divide them based on their instincts. The rest went onto the cart.
On the last day of August, the two old men sold the two boxes of scrap metal and split the money—this was their earnings for the summer.
With the cotton harvest beginning, Qin Dashan had no time to collect scraps anymore, but he was quite pleased. His bedroom was now filled with old objects, which he planned to save until his grandson grew up—then he could sell them as antiques to fund his grandson’s wedding.
Old Qin also had a fulfilling summer.
The only one unhappy was Miaomiao.
On the morning of September 1st, since he no longer had to attend suona lessons, Miaomiao slept in until he woke up naturally. As he washed his face with his father, he suddenly asked Qin Feng to take a closer look at his face.
“What is it?” Qin Feng asked in confusion.
Miaomiao pointed at his cheeks. “I got fatter. From playing the suona!”
Qin Feng chuckled.
The boy glared at him. “You don’t believe me?”
Qin Feng teased, “Want to weigh yourself and check?”
“We have a scale at home?”
Qin Feng nodded. “Your grandpa’s big scale for weighing scrap. You can crawl into a sack, and I’ll hook it up to weigh you.”
Miaomiao imagined the scene and immediately wanted to splash his father with his wash water. “Don’t think I don’t know—that’s how they weigh sheep in the village!”
Qin Feng burst out laughing.
“You really think of me as livestock?” Miaomiao couldn’t believe it.
Seeing his son getting anxious, Qin Feng quickly reassured him, “No, no. Hurry up and wash your face and brush your teeth. I’ll drop you off first, then take your brothers.”
Miaomiao couldn't help but glance at his older brothers.
—They’re so big already, and they still need Dad to drop them off? How embarrassing.
Gu Xiao’er’s fist clenched.
Sensing danger, Miaomiao immediately hid behind his father.
Qin Feng explained, “Your third brother is starting middle school. He’s already enrolled, but his tuition hasn’t been paid yet.”
“We’ll go with Grandpa. You can just take Third Brother,” Miaomiao said, wiping his face and waving his father off.
Seeing that the boy didn’t mind, Qin Feng agreed. He took Fu Qingyun with him, while Gu Wuyi carried Gu Xiao’er. The four of them headed to school together.
As they reached the school gate, a surprised exclamation rang out, making Qin Feng stop in his tracks.
“Is that really Gu Wuyi’s brother?”
Qin Feng turned toward the voice and saw a group of girls approaching.
Gu Wuyi frowned. “What nonsense are you talking about?”
The girls, bold and curious, walked right up to them and began scrutinizing Qin Feng as if trying to find something extraordinary about him.
Qin Feng simply smiled at them and asked warmly, “Do I look good?”
Comments
Post a Comment