Chapter 163: Digging for Gold

That afternoon.

When Ning Laotai ate the mushroom-meat sauce noodles, she paused for a moment—this old woman who had known both fortune and hardship—then sped up her eating.

Faster than any old woman should.

Mao Dan'er stared, dumbfounded.

"Nai, slow down, don't choke," he hurried to say.

Ning Laotai didn't slow down; she swallowed the noodles before replying, "I can't slow down—I haven't had a proper meal in years!"

"That's not true," Mao Dan'er called her out. "Just a while ago, Lin Lin Shengsheng sent you a fragrant chicken soup."

"This is nothing like that," Ning Laotai said.

Mao Dan'er didn't argue with his nai; his small face was serious. "Lin Lin Shengsheng taught me—Nai likes to eat… I'll make it for you."

Ning Laotai's face filled with emotion. "My grandson is so filial—I'm truly blessed."

She truly felt lucky: good family as a child, no hardship; no mistreatment after marriage; her son turned out well (though gone now); her daughter-in-law was good too; her grandson was sensible and filial.

Mao Dan'er was used to his nai praising him—he didn't change expression, and added, "Once we buy meat, I'll make it."

Ning Laotai looked hopeful. "Life's getting better by the day."

"In five or six years, I'll be earning work points—I'll make you dumplings every day, buns, chicken soup," Mao Dan'er's youthful face was solemn.

Ning Laotai: "…"

"Don't you want to be a worker?" she asked.

"How?" Mao Dan'er looked at his nai, meat sauce on his lips—he stuck out his tongue and licked it off. "All the uncles and cousins in the village want to be workers—why can't they?"

He furrowed his small brow. "Nai, people must be practical, grounded—iron rice bowls aren't for us country folk."

Ning Laotai: …her grandson was lecturing her.

"Why not?" Ning Laotai revealed her secret to him. "I don't care what others do—you're definitely going to be a worker, as soon as you finish middle school."

"?" Mao Dan'er gave a helpless look—he had no idea where his nai got such confidence.

Ning Laotai saw he didn't believe her, felt deeply frustrated, but said no more.

Hmph! He'll find out when he grows up!

In the county.

Not far from the train station.

Lin Shifan leaned on his crutch in the shade, watching Lin Fu and Lin Mu walk into the wasteland, pace around a few times, then stop and crouch down, digging something.

He was utterly baffled.

After waiting a while, he couldn't resist hopping over on one leg.

Before he could speak, he met Song Xi's faintly displeased gaze.

"Where are you running off to? Don't you want your leg?"

Lin Shifan rubbed his nose, clumsily changing the subject. "Mama, what are you and Papa digging for?"

Seeing her son had suffered, Song Xi didn't scold him further. "... Digging for gold."

She was telling the truth.

But Lin Shifan didn't believe her.

"Pfft—" He laughed, scanning the surroundings—barren, not even a dog in sight.

"Where's the gold here? Papa, Mama, who tricked you into thinking there's gold here?" Lin Shifan barely held back his laughter.

Lin Lin Heling looked up, glancing at him lightly. "What if there is?"

Lin Shifan grinned, shamelessly: "If there really is, give me a share."

"…Of course. Never expected much from Lao San's thick skin."

Lin Lin Heling shooed him off. "Sit over there. If you want to stay in the army, don't put weight on your leg."

Lin Shifan lowered his eyes, staring at his sluggish right leg—something flickered in them.

He probably couldn't stay.

He loved being a soldier so much—he couldn't bear to leave his comrades, carried so many regrets—but if he had to go, he'd leave with dignity.

Ahhh, he'd convinced himself—but just thinking about being discharged… his eyes stung terribly.

"Who are you sulking for? You're not acting like a proper soldier!" Song Xi slapped his back—her strength was immense, capable of lifting a two-hundred-pound wild boar; the blow made the young man grimace.

Before he could cry out to his father for comfort, Song Xi looked at him with disdain.

"How many doctors have you seen? Western medicine didn't work—there are still traditional Chinese doctors. What are you afraid of? If all else fails, your father and I will take you to the capital, find the best doctors. You're supposed to be a determined soldier—can't even match a simple country woman like me."

Lin Shifan gave her a strange look.

A simple country woman?

He hardly recognized the word "simple" anymore.

"Mama," Lin Shifan clutched his chest and coughed twice, playing the wounded victim.

Song Xi waved him off. "Go away, don't interfere while your father and I work."

Lin Shifan looked wounded.

Just a few days ago, she called him "Shi Fan" or "San'er"—now he was already the adopted child.

"Fanfan, find a clean spot to sit. Your mama and I will be done soon—we'll take you out to eat once we dig up the gold," Lin Lin Heling said gently, soothing his fragile heart.

Lin Shifan shuffled his feet uncomfortably—cough, he was nearly thirty, why did Papa still call him by his childhood nickname?

He wanted to complain, but feared Song Shi's outburst—didn't dare provoke her.

His leg injury couldn't bear strain—the wound would reopen—so he didn't help, just trampled down the sun-baked, dry yellow grass, sat cross-legged, stretched out his injured leg, and watched his parents work.

"Papa, Mama, want some water?" Lin Shifan called out.

"No, you drink," Lin Lin Heling didn't turn around, resumed walking, silently counting in his head.

"This must be the spot," he told Song Xi.

Song Xi didn't doubt him—she kept digging. Without proper tools, even with her strength, it was difficult.

"Mama, catch!" Lin Shifan shouted, tossing his crutch over. "Use this to dig."

Afraid she'd break his crutch with too much force, he added urgently, "Be gentle!"

Song Xi glanced at him. "Got it."

Then she added: "If it breaks, I'll carry you back."

Lin Shifan's face split open.

No, please.

He had dignity.

Song Xi began digging with the crutch.

The tool suited her, and her strength was great—the progress was encouraging.

After about ten minutes.

A wooden box, covered in yellow earth, was exposed.

"There it is," Lin Lin Heling's eyes brightened. "If I remember right, there are ten gold bars inside, plus some random jewelry."

As he spoke, Song Xi crouched, reached in, and pulled the wooden box out with one strong tug.

Dust rained down from the box's surface.

She brushed it off on the spot, shaking loose the dirt—the box's full form emerged.

Its surface was carved with intricate, exquisite patterns, had a rounded lid, and a small lock hanging from it.

Hearing his father's words, Lin Shifan dragged his injured leg over—seeing his parents had actually dug up something, his pupils dilated in shock.

"!"

"Papa, what is this?" He stared, stunned.

Lin Lin Heling's gaze was patient, though slightly exasperated. "Didn't I say? Gold."

"No, no—I mean…" Lin Shifan stammered in disbelief. "Where did this come from?"

Lin Lin Heling smiled. "It's ours."

Lin Shifan thought his father was joking—he was a soldier, upright and righteous, and immediately said: "Papa, ill-gotten wealth must not be taken."

Lin Lin Heling didn't think this was odd.

He chuckled and explained: "I buried it myself."

The furrows on Lin Shifan's brow vanished—his eyes widened with unmistakable astonishment and delight. "Papa, you remember who you are?"

He didn't care about the money—he just wanted his father's headaches to stop once his memory returned!

"I still remember only fragments—sporadic, incomplete," Lin Lin Heling said.

But he noticed: when he recalled this box of gold, his head swelled slightly—but within tolerable limits, nothing like the unbearable pain before, the kind that nearly killed him.

This was progress.

Major progress.

Thus, he no longer faced the prospect of remembering his past with such dread.

Lin Shifan was delighted for his father.

"Then you won't have headaches anymore!" His voice rang with excitement.

Before Meng Jiu regained his memory, he was the youngest son of the Lin family—doted on by his parents, spoiled by his brothers, indulged by his uncle—his life was perfect, everything he wanted was his.

Around his family, especially his parents, he was relaxed and casual—no trace of the rigid formality drilled into him by the army.

Lin Lin Heling patted his third son's head—the rough texture of his hair prickled his palm.

He froze slightly.

In the blink of an eye, San'er had grown into a full-grown man. He remembered the year he sent him off to enlist, how he had patted his head—his hair had still been soft. Only a few years had passed, and that naive, fearless little rascal had become a true young man.

"Dad, what's wrong?" Lin Lin Shifan touched his own face. "Why are you staring at me like that?"

He leaned closer, brazenly asking, "Did I get handsomer from basking in our hometown's sun and breathing our hometown's wind?"

Lin Lin Heling: "..."

Song Xi offered a measured evaluation: "No matter how handsome you get, you'll never be as handsome as your dad."

With that, she turned to Lin Lin Heling and asked, "Does this box have a key?"

"Lost it long ago," Lin Lin Heling replied.

He had fled in panic back then, leaving behind many things.

Song Xi nodded, pulled hard on the lock—and the small padlock on the exquisite wooden box came off.

"There." Her tone was calm.

Like back then, when she had whipped a fearsome bandit clean away.

Lin Lin Heling gazed at her with tender affection.

"Amazing!" he praised.

His long, elegant fingers opened the wooden box.

A dozen gold bars glinted blindingly in the sunlight.

"Whoa!" Lin Lin Shifan, unaccustomed to such wealth, hissed in awe.

Lin Lin Heling patted San'er's shoulder, his voice warm, yet his words carried a slight sting.

"Don't look so wide-eyed. We've got plenty of this stuff back in the Lin family."

It was an instinctive feeling he held.

He snapped back to himself, forgetting everything else, cleared his throat, and said, "If I remember right, there were twelve gold bars in this box. Your mother and I had four sons and one daughter—we'll give each of you two, keep two for ourselves, and the rest of the jewelry and ornaments… leave them to your mother and ZhaoZhao."

Lin Lin Heling divided the box's contents in three sentences.

Song Xi counted the gold bars inside. "There are indeed twelve."

Each one was heavy.

With so many sons, they were cheap; she favored her daughter more. "Give the box to ZhaoZhao too—she loves antiques."

The box was made of huanghuali wood—ZhaoZhao would surely love it.

Lin Lin Shifan had no objections.

He picked up one gold bar, hefting it in his hand.

"Damn heavy," he declared seriously.

"Dad, you're so careless—so much valuable stuff, just tossed away? Aren't you afraid someone'll find it?"

It wasn't buried deep. If it rained, the soil might wash away, and the box could be exposed.

Who even is this spoiled brat?

Lin Lin Heling's eyes remained calm. "Compared to life, these are all just worldly possessions."

He paused, then added, "Besides… I'm lucky. I won't lose them."

As proven, all the property and money he'd lost… were still there.

Lin Lin Shifan put the gold bar back, snapped the box shut, and reached to pick it up.

"You want to lose your leg again?" Song Xi slapped his hand away, then shoved her cane into his palm. "I'll give it to you later. You greedy fool—you don't even have a sweetheart. What do you need gold bars for?"

As the only one in the family who hadn't married or even dated anyone, Lin Lin Shifan's household status kept sinking.

He said nothing.

Sigh.

He'd once had XiaoSi as a shield—but now, the little brat already had two kids!

Lin Lin Heling saw how pitiful San'er looked and smiled to ease the tension. "Song Xiwei, let's go. Let's eat first, then visit ZhaoZhao."

"It's ZhaoZhao's birthday, and this is the first time we weren't there. I hope she's not sulking."

He pressed his brow. "I wonder if she even ate her longevity noodles."

Thinking of his daughter's gloom, the doting father pinched his fingertips, heart aching.

"Didn't you say her husband was there? He didn't even make her longevity noodles?" Lin Lin Shifan's smile vanished, his voice turning icy. He clasped his hands together, squeezing hard until they cracked.

Lin Lin Heling was very satisfied with Gu Gu Chenghuai as a son-in-law—he treated ZhaoZhao perfectly.

"Don't imagine nonsense. Gu Chenghuai treats ZhaoZhao well."

Lin Lin Shifan: "Oh."

If that's true, why are Mom and Dad worried?

He didn't get it.

This question—he'd probably only understand it when he had a daughter.

As they spoke, Song Xi packed the wooden box into a burlap sack, lifted it with one hand, and helped Lin Lin Shifan walk onto level ground.

The three of them ate, then boarded a cart pulled by oxen, heading toward Fengshou Team.

Several children were playing at the village entrance.

Lin Lin Heling spotted his twin grandsons, and his voice, soft but clear, rang out.

His warm tone carried delight.

"Xiang Yubao, Gu Hangbao."

Xiang Yubao and Gu Hangbao had just taken the dogs out for a walk—and for the nth time, were being pestered by kids asking about the provincial capital.

The two brothers weren't stingy. While the big yellow dog and Amber wandered, they sat cross-legged on a small stone beneath a tree, taking turns speaking, one starting, the other adding.

They hadn't spoken long when someone called their names.

The brothers turned toward the sound.

Seeing the people on the cart, they froze—then rushed over like a gust of wind.

Shouting nonstop: "Grandpa! Grandma!"

Song Xi jumped off the cart, scooped up Xiang Yubao and Gu Hangbao one by one, tossed them high into the air, and caught them firmly. The two children shrieked with pure joy.

"So high!"

Lin Lin Shifan was envious.

He wanted to toss his nephews like that too!

He glared at his injured leg, furious with frustration.

While Grandma tossed his brother, Xiang Yubao sized up the stranger in military uniform. "Grandpa, who's this?"

He's wearing the same clothes as Dad—is he Dad's comrade?

Before Lin Lin Heling could speak, Lin Lin Shifan flashed his white teeth and introduced himself: "Your third uncle. Your real, blood-deep third uncle. Your mom's third brother. Your actual uncle."

Xiang Yubao's eyes widened. His usually calm older brother's voice rose sharply.

"Gu Hangbao, it's the third uncle who sent me milk tablets and dried jujubes!"

He dropped the words and bolted for home.

At the door, he yelled: "Mom! My third uncle's back!"

"And Grandma and Grandpa too!"

Knowing ZhaoZhao was waiting for those three, Xiang Yubao didn't drag it out—he shouted one after another.

ZhaoZhao stepped out of the room.

"Your third uncle and your grandparents are back?" she confirmed.

"Yep!"

ZhaoZhao hurried out, gazing toward the village entrance—far off, she saw three familiar figures.

She broke into a run.

"Dad, Mom, Third Brother," she called, rushing forward to support Lin Lin Shifan, her voice thick with concern: "Third Brother, how's your leg? Does it hurt? If it does, don't hold back—I'll get a cart to carry you."

Lin Lin Shifan's outwardly tough but inwardly soft heart instantly melted into water.

This girl.

"I'm fine!" he lifted his head and waved. "I'll be good in half a month!"

ZhaoZhao was skeptical. She thought: I'll take Third Brother to see Old Man Meng later.