At this point, he forcefully wiped his face, "I was young then, too, always thinking if I worked harder, would they treat my sister a little better? But no, even if I were to work to death in the fields. By the time I got back, Nuannuan was crawling on the ground by herself, even picking up and eating small stones from hunger, while that woman was holding a child dressed like a princess and sneering coldly."
"Nuannuan has always been sensible. She started doing the laundry early on, even when she was not bigger than a washbasin, often falling into it, almost drowning. Can you imagine? A laundry basin, almost capable of drowning someone," Qin Xiangyang sneered again, but this sneer was mixed with too many painful and resentful memories.
"The children brought by my stepmother could go to school, but I couldn’t. My stepmother’s daughter could wear nice clothes and eat well, but not my sister. She had to cut pigweed, wash clothes, wash dishes, and by the time she was five or six years old, she could cook and feed the whole family."
"Later, my sister got sick, and they didn’t want to pay for her medical care, so they threw her in the woods behind the hill, saying she was just a money loser anyway. It was I who brought her back, otherwise she would have died. Later when I fell ill, they wanted to throw me out too, but it was my sister who saved me."
"Without my sister, I probably wouldn’t be here."
"So, Brother Jian," Qin Xiangyang actually wanted to cry, but for many years he could only hold it in, not allowing a single tear to drop.
"If one day, my parents come looking for us, don’t blame Nuannuan for seeming to lack humanity."
"It’s not that we lack humanity, but our emotional capacity was deeply wounded by the selfishness and cruelty of that couple. Nuannuan is right; we don’t have parents, we only have a grandma."
Jian Zhiqing had been listening quietly, feeling all this time that Qin Xiangnuan had been hiding something. She was never too close to people, and now he understood why. Such a tiny child had to endure those days, such merciless parents.
He patted Qin Xiangyang on the shoulder, "Alright, it’s all in the past. Don’t bring it up in front of her again. I feel like she wants to forget it. You should rest early too. Tomorrow, you’ll help her sell Conghua pancakes. You know, if her stall doesn’t open for a day, she’ll be upset."
"I know," Qin Xiangyang couldn’t help but chuckle, "Our family has been selling Conghua pancakes since I was little, and if she’s not there, naturally I, as her brother, will take over. And my pancakes are good since she taught me; naturally, it won’t be bad."
That night, Jian Zhiqing cooked three bowls of noodles, one for each of them.
"Knock knock..." she knocked on the door.
"Brother Jian, please come in."
Qin Xiangnuan’s voice was somewhat spirited from inside.
Jian Zhiqing walked in and, indeed, she was awake. Although she still had an IV drip on her hand, she didn’t look as listless as during the day, at least she had some strength when speaking.
She was leaning against the pillow, flipping through a book in her hands.
Jian Zhiqing walked over, took the book from her hands, "Ancient Dragon’s Lu Xiaofeng, huh."
"You’re reading this," Jian Zhiqing shook the book in his hand, "Is it any good?"
"Yes, it’s good," Qin Xiangnuan has always preferred novels to television. Some quintessential things are missing from TV, and the soul of the books can only be found in the books. What’s on TV is only part of it, not the whole, and now there really aren’t any good TV shows. It seems like the most played recently is Investiture of the Gods.