Chapter 45: Lying Through One's Teeth
Yang Jiabo returned to the farm, masking all his emotions. Yang Jianjun, noticing nothing amiss, said cheerfully, "Jiajia, Jing just called."
"What did he say?" Yang Jiabo asked.
"Got it." Yang Jiabo tried calling Wei Jing back but got no answer. He didn't dwell on it, if it was important, Wei Jing would call again. Hanging up, he headed to the kitchen. "Dad, what do you want for dinner?"
Aunt's family had bought a new refrigerator and given them their old green two-door model. Yang Jiabo suspected this was his aunt and cousin doing without Uncle's knowledge.
Yang Jianjun sat in the living room organizing receipts. "Whatever you make is fine, though Xiaoqing mentioned craving your stewed meat."
"Using Grandpa's words - unless it's chair legs he can't chew, is there anything he doesn't want to eat?" Yang Jiabo selected a piece of marbled pork, chopped it finely, mixed in an egg and some starch, then shaped the mixture into meatballs to simmer. After plugging in the rice cooker, he started washing vegetables for side dishes.
Yang Jianjun watched his busy silhouette through the kitchen doorway with a smile. "Our Jiajia is so capable."
"Naturally." Yang Jiabo accepted the praise without modesty. "Dad, the bamboo house next door is finished. I want to prepare a room for Yang Qing first. He's grown enough to deserve his own space."
"You brought him here, it's your decision." Yang Jianjun had no intention of interfering.
"I'm thinking custom furniture like mine would suit better than store-bought pieces."
"Let's hire that same carpenter. His work looks much nicer than mass-produced items." Yang Jianjun nodded approvingly.
The carpenter's skills were excellent, though the designs followed Yang Jiabo's specifications. In the future, abundant online inspiration would elevate people's aesthetic standards, Yang Jiabo's included.
Dinner was ready when Yang Qing returned, his arrival heralded by two excited puppies.
"Dahei, Xiaohei, I'm back!"
"Woof! Woof!"
"Since you put him in charge of them, those pups treat him like their father," Yang Jianjun chuckled.
"But they still obey me most." Yang Jiabo called from the doorway, "Dinner time! Stop playing."
"Coming! Did you feed Dahei and Xiaohei yet?"
"Waiting for you. Feed them after you eat."
"But they look hungry, I'll feed them first."
"Meow~" A kitten emerged from somewhere, crying for food.
"Mimi's hungry too! Let me mix something for you." Yang Jianjun happily stroked the cat before hurrying to the kitchen.
Yang Jiabo gnawed a rib bone while observing this scene. He'd known his father preferred cats over dogs but never expected such doting behavior. His own "Braised Carp" fish remained unfed, when would it grow up?
True to his decisive nature, Yang Jiabo summoned the carpenter next morning. He commissioned customized bamboo furniture for the entire house. The elderly carpenter cheerfully agreed, immediately calling two apprentices to begin work.
Thrilled about getting his own room, Yang Qing made requests: a desk and preferably a full-length mirror. Through their time together, he'd learned his brother was paradoxically accommodating yet domineering, it never hurt to ask.
Yang Jiabo eyed his sun-darkened complexion. "Should I get you a vanity table too?"
Recognizing approval, Yang Qing grinned. "Save that for when I get married."
"Dream on, I'm not arranging marriages for you." Yang Jiabo rolled his eyes. "But when you do marry, have two children, one surnamed Zhang, one Yang."
"Why?" Yang Qing gaped. He was still in elementary school—since when did they discuss his future offspring?
"Grandpa's surname is Zhang. Three generations must restore the lineage, one descendant should carry his name regardless of gender." When Yang Jiabo was born, Grandpa had named him Zhang Mingjun, but Grandma refused. As a refugee-turned-live-in son-in-law, Grandpa's lifelong regret was having no heir bearing his name.
"But you're the eldest grandson!" Yang Qing felt crushed under imagined responsibility.
"Me?" Yang Jiabo froze. He couldn't fathom building a life with a stranger, the very idea repelled him. He would remain single, content in solitude. Children were out of the question too, his instability made him unfit for parenthood. Unlike others, he understood children needed proper care, not mere existence.
"Won't you have two kids too?" Yang Qing pressed.
"I can't get pregnant."
After a baffled pause, Yang Qing protested, "You're tricking me again!"
Yang Jiabo patted his head pityingly. "Fools can't blame others for deceiving them. Homework done?"
"Not yet..." The deflated boy slunk off to study.
Watching him go, then the puppies romping outside, Yang Jiabo noted their resemblance. A week later, Yang Qing moved into his new room...only to beg returning to share Yang Jiabo's space after the novelty faded. Naturally the request was denied.
With the bed to himself, Yang Jiabo overslept next morning. Still in pajamas, he yawned into the living room, then froze. Someone sat at his desk, examining his sketches.
Rubbing his eyes confirmed the impossible. "Brother Jing? Why are you here?"
Wei Jing smiled at his stunned expression. "We'll talk after you wash up."
Flushing, Yang Jiabo dashed to the bathroom. Once he disappeared, Wei Jing's smile faded. Jiajia showed no visible issues, likely because he masked them expertly. But such pretense must be exhausting. Reflecting further, Wei Jing realized Jiajia had always exhibited abnormal financial anxiety since childhood.
After hurried ablutions and changing clothes, Yang Jiabo reemerged. Eighteen-year-old Wei Jing had grown impressively tall and handsome, his features blending youthful charm with mature handsomeness, exuding clean-cut charisma.
"Brother Jing, why are you back?" Yang Jiabo was astounded, weren't you supposed to stay abroad for years?
"School break. I wanted to visit, plus I need your advice." Wei Jing lied shamelessly, he'd actually sneaked back from worry.
"Don't fool me, though uneducated, I still know, is it even holiday season?" Yang Jiabo's skeptical look wavered between amusement and suspicion.
Wei Jing's heart ached at his self deprecating remark, "Foreign academic calendars differ. Anyway, don't you have something to tell me?"
"Like what?"
"Why are you home sleeping during school hours?" Wei Jing's tone carried quiet danger.
"Oh that? I got expelled." Yang Jiabo announced it like celebrating good news. "Schools nowadays are toxic. Good teachers get poached by better institutions, leaving behind the worst snobs."
He rambled complaints about faculty and classmates, skillfully avoiding key points. But Wei Jing, ever perceptive, read between the lines.
"Good riddance to bad rubbish. This just accelerates my entrepreneurial plans." Yang Jiabo concluded brightly. "Brother Jing, have you eaten? We've only got noodles here, should we go out?"
His breezier the act, the heavier Wei Jing's heart grew. "Cook me something. Have your skills improved?"
"Try and see." Yang Jiabo breezed into the kitchen. "I made zhajiang sauce yesterday, how about noodles?"
"Perfect. After suffering Western food, anything homemade tastes divine."
"Really? Want me to make carp stewed in white wine then? Exceptionally fresh."
"Let's stick to normal dishes." Leaning against the doorway, Wei Jing watched him work while making casual conversation.
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