Once those people had completely fled far away, Song Yuanbao stopped his fake cries and laughed heartily, clutching his stomach, "Hahaha, I’m dying of laughter, a bunch of ignorant fools!"
Wen Wan lit an oil lamp and hung it on a branch, using the light to weave vines into a long rope.
Song Yuanbao asked her, "Mom, what are you doing?"
Wen Wan pointed to the baskets and tools like shovels outside.
Song Yuanbao immediately understood, and said nonchalantly, "These are brought by the grandchildren as gifts, we should take advantage of it; once we drag them back, we’ll sell them to Second Grandpa at the east end of the village, lower the price a bit, and still get a few copper coins to spend."
Wen Wan glared at him: Why are you insulting people?
Song Yuanbao muttered, "Mom heard it too, they voluntarily called me ’little ancestor’."
Wen Wan still disapproved, frowned, and told him not to speak again.
If it were an adult, it would definitely be a joke, and it would pass, but Yuanbao is just a child; children tend to pick up words and imitate. If not stopped, he might think speaking like that is quite good. What if he meets those people again later and accidentally lets slip, bringing trouble?
In Song Yuanbao’s impression, Wen Wan, true to her name, has always been soft and gentle, with an unbelievably good temper. Seeing her so serious tonight was the first time, and it scared him a little, making him wilt instantly. He lowered his head and said softly, "Mom, I know I was wrong, I won’t dare to do it again."
Wen Wan finally curved her lips, rubbed his head, showing the gentle expression Song Yuanbao was familiar with.
To please his stepmother, Song Yuanbao proactively took the vine rope from Wen Wan, and tied those baskets together himself. When he returned to the village, it was he who sold them to Second Grandpa’s house.
Second Grandpa usually relies on weaving baskets to exchange for money in town. Tonight these baskets are quite new, if sold at a low price, he would definitely buy them.
Eight baskets, plus the hoe and shovel, were exchanged for a total of twenty coins.
It might be a bit little, but after all, it’s money picked up for free.
Song Yuanbao returned joyfully, carrying the copper coins.
Wen Wan was still waiting under the big tree.
Song Yuanbao handed over all the copper coins to Wen Wan.
Wen Wan counted ten and kept them, handing back the remaining ten.
Song Yuanbao didn’t take them, his face drooping, "Yuanbao said the wrong thing tonight and upset mom, I shouldn’t take this money."
With such a good attitude in admitting mistakes, a reward is certainly due. Wen Wan ultimately gave him those ten copper coins, and the two made a pact with their little fingers, indicating that tonight’s matter is known only to them, and no one will talk about it outside.
After a whole night of fussing, Song Yuanbao fell asleep shortly after returning.
Wen Wan pushed open the bedroom door, the oil lamp inside was still on. Song Wei was bending over beside the alcove bed packing for tomorrow’s morning trip to the Prefecture. He paused his actions upon hearing the door open and looked up, "Where did you go?"
It was clearly a calm voice with no discernible emotion, yet it made the "guilty conscience" person feel interrogated.
Wen Wan took a deep breath and pointed towards the direction of her parents’ house.
Song Wei leisurely put the folded clothes into a bundle, straightened his cuffs, and walked towards her.
Wen Wan didn’t dare move, her back pressed tightly against the door, holding her breath, pulling her lips into a forced smile.
Song Wei stood in front of her, supporting the door with one hand, slightly leaned forward, sniffed near her neck, then reached out his hand and placed it on her head.
Wen Wan trembled uncontrollably like electricity coursed through her, hearing him say by her ear, "There’s the scent of canola flowers from outside the village on you, fresh pine needles on your hair, and black mud from the pine slope on your feet. When did your dad move?"