"This must be Nuannuan, right?" The old woman’s eyes had always been fixed on Qin Xiangmei, trying to find traces of her own daughter in Qin Xiangmei’s face. But she was truly disappointed—there was nothing, absolutely nothing. Qin Xiangnuan she was looking at bore not a single resemblance to Du Ping, although the child was pretty and cute in her own way, she was not the familiar face.
Qin Xiangmei turned her face away, pouting unwillingly.
"Brother, who’s this dirty old woman? Let’s go, she stinks to death."
And these words wounded Granny Lu, causing her to involuntarily step back, feeling utterly ashamed of herself.
"Yangyang..." She called out Qin Xiangyang’s name with discomfort, then, trembling, she reached into her pocket. After fumbling for a while, she finally pulled out an old handkerchief. She opened it layer by layer, revealing some money inside—some one yuan, some ten cents and twenty cents, and even some coins worth just a few cents. These were the savings she had scrimped and scraped together over the past few years, intending to give them to the two children. It wasn’t much, just over a hundred yuan, but every bit of it was saved by skimping on food and penny-pinching.
"Yangyang, keep this money safe and don’t let others know. This is what Granny has saved for you and your sister to spend."
She placed the money in front of Qin Pengfei, never having doubted that Qin Pengfei was Qin Pengyou. She still recognized the Qin family. This child who came from the Qin family, she had called him Qin Xiangyang, and he didn’t deny it, so Granny Lu really thought that this was Qin Xiangyang, her grandson.
Qin Pengfei’s eyes flashed, and he reached out to take the money.
There was no less than a hundred yuan in total; it would be foolish not to take it.
During the New Year, their lucky money was usually just 50 cents. This money could buy him a new school bag and new stationery. In any case, once the money was in his hands, it was his.
He clenched the money in his hand, and a devil took up residence in his heart, as he couldn’t help but become selfish.
"Get going," he said curtly, unable to hide his disdain in his tone, "don’t let people see you. I don’t want anyone knowing that I have a beggar for a granny. I’m still in school and have to prepare for university."
Granny Lu’s throat choked up painfully, the term "beggar" hurting her deeply. A long tear streaked down her emaciated face. Indeed, she was a beggar; she never wanted anything from the Qin family. She just came to give the children some money. It was a meager amount, she was already sorry enough for the kids, how could she possibly let them suffer ridicule because of her?
"Let’s go," Qin Pengfei urged Qin Chumei, not understanding why but feeling averse to looking at Granny Lu’s terribly aged face any longer. The frail old woman stood there in the snow, her face weather-beaten, like a candle in the wind without a flicker of life.
The money in his hand felt hot, but he didn’t let go of it.
Granny Lu drew her hands back, and then held them up to her mouth to breathe some warm air on them. The village was filled with the joy of the New Year, and the air was tinged with the smell of sulfur. Every household’s front door was adorned with red Spring Festival couplets.
And she was hungry, cold, and thirsty. With no other choice, she found shelter at the entrance of someone’s house. This house’s front gate happened to have a gatehouse without a door, inside of which there were some cornstalks and wheat straws for heating the kang.
It provided her with some shelter from the wind and the cold.
She thought to herself, if the owner didn’t mind, she could stay here for the night and leave the village tomorrow, as it was simply too cold.
Aunt Hua had just come out to fetch some cornstalks to burn for heat.
But as soon as she went to grab some cornstalks, she was startled by the sight of her and almost turned pale with fright.