Chapter 31: Zhang Guafu Brings Vegetables

From her words, Ye Cheng could tell she had come several times before; seeing him asleep, she didn't dare wake him. This careful demeanor was completely different from her previous shrewish attitude—she seemed like a different person.

Ye Cheng knew why: it was because those four blue crabs brought hope to Zhang Guafu, just like a tight‑suit warrior could bring light.

"Aunt, you're being so polite, even bringing me vegetables." Ye Cheng stepped out.

"They're just what I usually grow; they're not worth much." Zhang Guafu handed over the bucket.

Ye Cheng looked and saw cabbage, radish, and water spinach; although they weren't worth much, they were in‑season vegetables and very fresh.

"They're all good stuff, Aunt. Sit a while, I'll get you a drink." Ye Cheng turned and took a bottle of cola from the fridge.

"No water, just cola, Aunt—make do with it."

"What's there to make do with cola? I don't usually even want to drink it." Zhang Guafu wasn't polite either; she just twisted the cap open and drank.

Ye Cheng also opened a bottle and casually asked, "Aunt, did you sell your blue crabs?"

"Yeah, sold them—four for 120 yuan." Talking about the blue crabs, Zhang Guafu smiled so wide her mouth couldn't close.

Ye Cheng smiled without speaking. Four for 120 yuan meant each sold for only 30 yuan; if he told her to sell them for him, they could fetch 50 yuan each—he wondered whether Zhang Guafu would still be so happy.

"Thanks to you, Lao Er, I'm grateful. Next time you go gathering at sea, bring me along—I can do anything."

Ye Cheng slowly sipped his cola without speaking; after a moment of silence he said, "Aunt, you're on the village chief's side."

Zhang Guafu's expression changed, then she quickly put on a smile: "Lao Er, what do you mean 'the village chief's side' or not? I'm not. The last time I helped the village chief was only because you kept climbing over my wall to peek at me..."

Zhang Guafu spoke softer and softer, glancing shyly at Ye Cheng; that expression was as awkward as a potato on Tian Shan—really improper.

"Pfft" Ye Cheng nearly spat out his cola; he had wanted to tease Zhang Guafu, but now that this old secret was out, he couldn't hold himself together.

"Okay, Aunt, let's not talk about the past. If I need help in the future, I'll call you."

"Then we've got it settled—don't lie to me. You know how hard it is for me to raise a child alone; I have no strength, making money is too difficult."

"The child is growing up, and soon will need to go to school again; this money worries me, Aunt."

"I'm not like you men with brute strength, and with a child I don't dare go out to work."

"Lao Er, you really need to help Aunt."

As Zhang Guafu spoke, tears began to fall; it was clear that a woman like her was living a hard life.

But Ye Cheng is suffering even more now—a lone man and widow, with Zhang Guafu crying, plus his past deeds; if someone walked in, even jumping into the Yellow River wouldn't clear his name.

"Okay, okay, Aunt, hurry up and stop crying—if someone comes in later I won't be able to explain." Ye Cheng hurried to comfort her.

"Tch, I never saw you so timid before; now you even know fear." Zhang Guafu gave Ye Cheng a glance and wiped her tears.

"Aunt, don't bring up the past, don't bring up the past—if you mention it again I'll turn hostile." Ye Cheng kept a straight face.

"Alright, then if you have any work later, remember to call me."

"Don't worry, definitely, absolutely and for sure, okay."

Zhang Guafu then broke into a smile through tears, stood up, twisted her roughly uniform‑thick body, and said, "Then I'm off."

"Okay, Aunt, take care."

"Hey, wait a minute." Ye Cheng suddenly called out to Zhang Guafu, pulled out 20 yuan and handed it over: "This is for the vegetables—I can't just take them for free."

Zhang Guafu stared, stunned; she hadn't expected Ye Cheng to give her money: "How can I take this? These are just what I grow myself; they hardly sell for anything, they're among neighbors—if I took the money I'd be denounced."

Zhang Guafu hurriedly declined; although she was short of money, she really couldn't accept vegetables from fellow villagers.

"It's not for the vegetables—it's to buy some books for your child, so he can read more and have a future."

"This..." Zhang Guafu felt moved inside; the child was her only hope, and she also wished her child could succeed.

Seeing Zhang Guafu relent, Ye Cheng shoved the money into her hand and took two bottles of cola: "Take these for the child to drink."

Giving cola to a child would surely be condemned in later times, said to cause weight gain and be bad for teeth.

But in this era there's nothing good to drink, especially in a small village like Baiyun Village—cola counts as a treat.

Zhang Guafu felt a little moved; previously she had come low‑voiced and deferential to bring Ye Cheng vegetables because she needed something from him, but she hadn't expected him to treat her so well, especially considering the child.

She pursed her lips, suppressed her emotions, took the cola, and said, "Then I'll take it back for the child to drink."

After saying that, Zhang Guafu turned and left; halfway out she suddenly stopped, turned her head back to Ye Cheng and said,

"By the way, Lao Er, today I heard the village chief—oh, Chen Jinhai—say they know you made money again today gathering at sea, and they seem to want to find a way to deal with you; be careful."

That Zhang Guafu would tell him this news Ye Cheng hadn't expected; he clasped his hands in thanks.

As for how Chen Jinhai could deal with him, he couldn't imagine.

Whatever the case, some idiots can't survive without being stupid.

Let's first settle tonight's dinner.

The braised pork left over from yesterday that big brother brought, Ye Cheng picked out a large white radish from the bucket, hefted it—it felt heavy, probably not a hollow radish.

He cut it open and saw a crisp, fresh radish.

Radish is also a good thing—can be eaten raw, used in stir‑fries or soups, and it regulates qi.

It flows smoothly inside and out, making one feel at ease.

However, radish has a distinctive taste that Ye Cheng disliked as a child, because not eating it seemed to have gotten him beaten once.

But later he grew to like it, especially radish‑rib soup—he could skip the ribs, but the radish inside had to be eaten.

Ye Cheng had no ribs, so he made do: he took out the braised pork, heated it in the pot, then added the sliced radish.

Watching the radish soak up the braised pork broth, slowly turning as red as the meat, Ye Cheng could imagine how flavorful it would be soon.

Here the braised pork with radish is simmering first; this dish needs a low, slow fire.

On the other side Ye Cheng took out that bunch of water spinach—this is the local variety, with relatively thick stems and large leaves.

These days this kind of water spinach is rare; the common type is the thin‑leaf variety, and I don't know whether it was introduced or improved.

Thin‑leaf water spinach is basically stir‑fried stem and leaf together; when eaten it comes strand by strand, and when a restaurant stir‑fries it over high heat it can stay bright green—quite attractive.

But for this native water spinach, Ye Cheng prefers another way: he separates the leaves from the stems and throws the leaves straight into the pot to fry.