Chapter 9: Silly Little Pig (Please Add to Your Collection)

After less than half an hour of tutoring, Li Jixiang was already at her wit’s end. Whose little pig had gained sentience, donned human skin, and disguised itself as a chubby boy sitting here? Where did his brains go?

Just take a look at a first-grade math problem, and then look at the homework: 36 plus 21 equals 54. The urge to smack someone came on as suddenly as a tornado. All the heirs of the Li family had grown up under a firm hand, and Li Jixiang, who had inherited this tradition, nearly let loose a triple barrage of scolding.

She reined herself in—no, she mustn’t! Li Jixiang managed to stop herself just in time. “That was close, I almost lost my sponsor.”

Thinking this, her face remained composed, and her smile only grew sweeter. The hand that had been itching to strike instead landed gently on the boy’s head in a mock-tiger, real-dog pat. “It’s all right. We’ll take it slow. Adding two-digit numbers really is a bit too hard.”

Unable to do much with this bronze-level student, Li Jixiang wrapped up the lesson in haste, hinting at the answers as she went to muddle through the homework and complete her task for the day. Out of the corner of her eye, she stole glances at her benefactor; she had just checked and the popularity points had already surpassed five hundred, soon to hit six hundred—all thanks to these two brothers. Li Jixiang was delighted. Was she about to gain another major patron?

From the memories of the body’s original owner, she knew that this big brother of the chubby boy had dropped out after just one year of middle school, eight years ago, because his family had been plunged into poverty after his brother’s birth. He’d started working—reportedly doing all sorts of dirty and exhausting jobs—and even fallen in with some local thugs, dabbling in gang activity. Now the family had prospered, built a new house, and no longer worried about food or clothing. Yet it seemed he’d never thought of returning to school.

Well, perhaps he simply didn’t have the brains for it. When she’d been tutoring the chubby boy, she’d seen this older brother sitting dazed and vacant beside them, staring blankly as she spoke. But it was obvious he hadn’t understood a thing…

Thus ended the young lady’s first attempt at teaching—defeated by two hopeless children. Though Li Jixiang was inwardly disgruntled, Aunt An’s dinner soon soothed her spirits.

After many days of dry rations, she finally tasted meat again. The tender greens, simply stir-fried, were no less delicious than any chef’s creation from the future; the shredded potatoes were crisp and refreshing, and the tomato and egg soup was a delightful surprise.

Li Jixiang was utterly satisfied. Once she’d eaten her fill, she sank into deep self-reproach. “Look at yourself—once, you’d tasted every delicacy, and now you’re content with this simple fare. How you’ve fallen!”

“Thank you, Aunt An. It’s getting late, so I’ll head home now. If there are any important notices or study materials in the next few days, I’ll bring them over for An Chen.”

She felt it was time to leave—otherwise, she truly wouldn’t want to part with these meals.

As the sun faded and seven o’clock drew near, Li Jixiang hurried home, her stomach content and the taste of dinner lingering in her mouth.

She had said she’d be back late, but perhaps this was a bit too late. She hadn’t expected Aunt An to invite her to dinner, but since there wasn’t much left to eat at home, she’d accepted. Every bit saved was a blessing; otherwise, she’d be living off the land before her “wealth base” was even established.

The night wind rose suddenly—likely a spring rain was about to fall. After such a rain, the last patches of old ice and snow would melt away from every corner; the spring breeze would bring warmth, and the kang could be put out, saving on coal money.

Grandma Li, lost in thought, was sewing the cut black cotton upper onto a white, hand-stitched sole. She needed to finish the new shoes quickly, or her granddaughter would have nothing to wear once she switched out of her winter boots. The freshly washed upper fit perfectly onto the sole, and Grandma Li, pleased, pushed her reading glasses up her nose.

Suddenly, the wind chimes rang out. Thinking a customer had arrived, Grandma Li hurried from the kitchen to the little shop, but the swaying curtain and chimes soon fell silent.

It was so late and Li Jixiang still hadn’t returned; anxiety prickled at Grandma Li. She put down the shoes and went outside to peer down the street.

The town’s main street was deserted. Heavy clouds hung overhead, and suddenly a few drops of rain fell. Grandma Li rushed back inside to grab a black umbrella, not bothering to close the shop, and hurried out to meet her granddaughter.

The wind and rain battered the umbrella, nearly turning it inside out. As she passed by the smithy, Blacksmith Han called to her. She was just about to turn when a gust of wind struck, flipping the umbrella into a black pinwheel that landed squarely on Blacksmith Han’s face as he approached.

Blacksmith Han struggled with the broken umbrella, while Grandma Li tried to gather the shattered ribs. Just then, Li Jixiang ran up and helped them out.

The umbrella was beyond saving, and both Li Jixiang and her grandmother were soaked through in the brief, violent downpour.

“I’m terribly sorry!” Blacksmith Han apologized, rubbing his bronzed hands together in embarrassment. His call had made Grandma Li turn, causing the umbrella to break in the wind.

“If you’ve got something to say, say it quickly—I need to take Jixiang home and close up shop,” Grandma Li replied, not caring that she herself was soaked, but unhappy that her granddaughter was drenched as well. She took the towel Han handed her and began wiping the rain from Jixiang’s face.

The towel reeked of sulfur soap, its white faded to yellow, and the rough fabric scratched her skin. Li Jixiang took it to dry herself.

Finally, Grandma Li turned to Blacksmith Han, who fished out his long pipe, only for her to snatch it away—she wouldn’t let him smoke in front of Jixiang.

“I won’t smoke, just give it back,” he pleaded, stepping forward anxiously for his beloved pipe, as vital to him as his hammer.

“I’ll give it back after you’ve said your piece,” she replied, hiding the pipe behind her.

Not daring to hesitate, Blacksmith Han blurted out his news: he was moving to the county to live with his son and needed to transfer the smithy. He hoped Grandma Li would take it over.

Their shops stood side by side, both facing the town’s main street, but the smithy’s location was better for business than Grandma Li’s little shop.

Grandma Li could only give a bitter smile. She could barely keep her own shop afloat—how could she possibly afford to expand? Besides, she and her granddaughter didn’t need such a big house.

“I know what you mean,” Blacksmith Han pressed on, “but Jixiang’s growing up—she’ll need a proper room of her own. Your shop faces the main road, with all kinds of people and vehicles passing by. I worry for your safety. If money’s tight, you can pay the rent in installments. I just don’t want to hand my family’s shop over to strangers. My grandfather left it to my father, my father left it to me, and I can’t let it be lost in my hands. When I’m too old to get around, I’d still like to come back here to spend my final years…”