Chapter 27: The Extraordinary Child
Everyone laughed, as if a switch had been flipped, and they began recounting Yang Jiabo’s embarrassing past. Yang Jiabo stayed silent, quietly eating his rice. He told himself it was fine, it was all in the past, those things happened before he was five, back when he was just a little kid.
But before he could finish comforting himself, Wei Feng chimed in, sharing the story of how Yang Jiabo once walked into the wrong classroom and got into a fight with a classmate, ending up with a black eye. Yang Jiabo was furious, the other kid didn’t come out unscathed either! He had made the other kid’s nose bleed. Wait, why did they even fight? Oh, right, it was over a fountain pen. And the other kid had thrown the first punch. Was he supposed to just stand there and take it?
The dinner atmosphere was lively, and the dishes on the table were a feast for the eyes, nose, and palate. The food was so delicious that even Grandpa Yang brought out his treasured ten-year-old liquor. The adults drank until they were slightly tipsy, the kids ate until their bellies were round, and every dish on the table was wiped clean.
"Brother’s cooking is amazing, but there’s just not enough," little Yang Qing lamented as he gnawed on the last crispy crab.
"I love this! Jiajia, if you sold this, you’d make a fortune," Wei Feng said, devouring the soft and flaky scallion pancake.
"I’m too young, and making this is time-consuming and labor-intensive. Setting up a stall outside the school would be great, but I have to go to school," Yang Jiabo said. He wasn’t sure if adults would like it, so he figured kids’ money was easier to earn.
"What if I give it a try?" Yang Meizhen’s eyes lit up.
"Sure," Yang Jiabo nodded.
"Meizhen, are you quitting your job?" Li Guizhen felt uncomfortable. This was her son’s skill, and now it was being handed over to Yang Meizhen.
"The factory’s business isn’t doing well, and there’s less and less work. I can finish my tasks in half a day and even take some home. It won’t affect me," Yang Meizhen sighed. The factory’s situation wasn’t great, the leaders were too busy fighting over the factory director’s position instead of focusing on quality and sales. If things continued like this, the factory would go under sooner or later.
"What about your older brother?" Grandma Yang asked worriedly.
"My brother’s job is different from ours. He doesn’t need to worry for now," Yang Meizhen smiled. "Let’s not talk about this. Let’s talk about something happier."
Before the Wei family left, Yang Jiabo handed Wei Jing a small box. "Congratulations on graduating. I won’t be able to see you off in the next few days because of the military training."
"It’s fine. Take care of yourself, and if you feel unwell, ask for leave," Wei Jing said, sounding like a responsible adult.
"I know, I know. I’ve told you, my body is strong. I can even run a thousand meters without a problem. You take care of yourself too, and write to me often," Yang Jiabo said. He wondered if Wei Jing saw him as some fragile Lin Daiyu-like figure. Ugh, no—he wasn’t Lin Daiyu. Maybe Lin Didi? No, his body was perfectly healthy.
[林弟弟 (Lín dìdì) - wordplay on 林黛玉 (Lín Dàiyù), the delicate heroine from Dream of the Red Chamber, here masculinized for self-mockery]
Wei Changdong watched the two boys bid each other farewell and smiled at Yang Jianjun. "These two have such a strong bond."
Yang Jianjun nodded repeatedly. "Yes, Xiao Jing is steady and sensible, and Jiajia loves playing with him."
Wei Changdong: "These two are fated. Jiajia has even saved Xiao Jing twice."
Yang Jianjun: "It’s not about saving. They’re good friends and should look out for each other."
"Then why don’t they look out for me more?" Wei Feng complained, feeling left out. One was his brother, and the other was his good friend.
The adults laughed at his sulky expression, which only made Wei Feng feel worse.
When they got home, Wei Jing opened the box Yang Jiabo had given him. Inside were over a dozen neatly arranged "worms." Wei Feng exclaimed, "Brother, why did Jiajia give you a box of worms?"
"What worms?" Wei Changdong and Song Yufang looked over and were equally shocked. Wei Changdong asked in surprise, "These are cordyceps! How could Jiajia give such valuable medicinal herbs?"
[Cordyceps (冬虫夏草 - Dōng chóng xià cǎo): A unique parasitic fungus that grows on insect larvae (mainly caterpillars) in high-altitude regions like the Tibetan Plateau. The name means "winter worm, summer grass" in Chinese, describing its life cycle.
"Changdong, should we return the favor with a gift?" Song Yufang frowned.
"No need. Jiajia grew these himself," Wei Jing explained.
"How is that possible?" Wei Changdong couldn’t believe it. He suddenly remembered something. "The cordyceps mycelium I helped you find, did you give it to him?"
"Yes, he planted it under the vine by his window," Wei Jing nodded.
Wei Changdong thought for a moment and said, "If I’m not mistaken, that vine is a fleeceflower root, right?"
"Yes, Jiajia said he dug it up from the mountain. There are also a lot of grasses planted around it, and they bloom beautifully," Wei Feng chimed in eagerly, trying to prove he knew a lot too.
Wei Jing: "Idiot, those are orchids."
"Don’t lie to me just because I don’t read much. The orchids at Grandpa’s house are all green, but Jia Jia’s are golden. Oh, and some have white-tipped leaves," Wei Feng insisted. He had seen plenty of orchids before.
"Have you forgotten what Grandpa said about leaf art? If I’m not mistaken, those are high-grade art," Wei Jing felt his brother was far behind Jiajia in terms of knowledge.
[Leaf art (叶艺 - yè yì): the cultivation and appreciation of ornamental plants (especially orchids) with naturally variegated or patterned leaves, where stripes, spots, or color contrasts (like gold/white on green) are prized as living art]
"Are you two serious?" Wei Changdong was still in disbelief.
"Yes, yes! Jiajia said he grew those to sell for money. I even laughed at him, thinking he wanted to sell weeds for money," Wei Feng firmly believed those were just weeds.
"Then I’ll have to take a closer look next time," Wei Changdong became intrigued. He trusted his eldest son’s words. "Since Jiajia gave these to you, keep them. When we get to Beijing, we’ll have Grandma make cordyceps and duck soup."
"I know," Wei Jing nodded. Jiajia was already earning money to support his family, while he still relied on his parents. Wei Jing felt like a failure.
"Are all kids these days so extraordinary?" Song Yufang glanced at her second son and couldn’t bear to look any longer. He was just too clueless.
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