Chapter 15: Visiting Grandfather’s House

After breakfast, Mother Xie went to work while Father Xie took Yehuang to the Qi family.

“Grandpa, Grandma, I’m here!” Yehuang called out as she entered.

Grandpa and Grandma Qi came out upon hearing her voice.

They had two sons and two daughters. The eldest son, Jianhua, worked with the transport team. Their eldest daughter, Yuhe—Yehuang’s mother—was followed by their second daughter, Yulan, who worked at the local cultural center, and their youngest son, Jianjian, who enjoyed fishing and selling his catch, doubling as both fisherman and fishmonger.

Of the four children, the eldest three were already married. Only the youngest, Jianjian, remained single—being the youngest, he had always taken his time. Now, at twenty-five, he had finally met a temporary worker from the department store. Their meetings had gone well, but due to her family’s circumstances, the bride price was set at one thousand.

Fortunately, though the Qi family was not wealthy, they had a solid foundation. The betrothal gifts had already been presented, and they planned to hold the wedding by year’s end.

Grandpa Qi was a man of the world. It was said that in his youth, he was a local prodigy, gifted in both the literary and martial arts. He had also participated in numerous campaigns, so the family’s heritage had always been carefully preserved.

In his own mind, Grandpa Qi had a plan: once his youngest son was married, he would divide the family estate among the four children. He saw no difference between sons and daughters; all would receive their share.

He treated all his grandchildren equally—whether they were the children of his sons or daughters.

It had to be said, Grandpa Qi truly treated everyone with fairness.

“Yehuang, where are your brother and sister? Why didn’t they come with you?” Grandma Qi said with a smile. She was very fond of her eldest daughter’s two girls and one boy.

In fact, she loved all her grandchildren, whether from her sons or daughters. Whenever they came to the Qi household, she treated them all with warmth.

Father Xie added, “Dad, Mom, Yehuang starts school tomorrow and wants to visit the seaside today. Yuhe and I are both busy, so we’ve asked Jianjian to take her. Aman and Sheng started classes today, so they couldn’t come.”

Grandpa Qi waved his hand. “Go on to work. Yehuang is safe here with us. Jianjian’s out selling fish. When he returns, he’ll take Yehuang to the shore.”

Father Xie never had any worries about leaving his daughter with the Qi family. After giving a few instructions and leaving behind two cans of fruit, he hurried off to work.

“Weimin is so thoughtful—bringing gifts even to his own family,” Grandma Qi said, shaking her head. Still, she could not deny that she appreciated the gesture.

Parents loving their children is natural, but when the children can give back—even in small ways—it warms the heart.

Grandpa Qi lit his pipe and took a puff. “It’s good this way—give and take, with nothing to hold against each other. That’s how siblings get along naturally later on.”

Grandma Qi paid no mind to her husband’s logic. She pulled Yehuang along. “Come, I’ll show you the softshell turtle your uncle caught yesterday in the river. It’s a big one. If you like, I’ll steam it for lunch.”

Yehuang quickly waved her hands. “No turtle for me. I want sesame salt.”

She loved the aroma of sesame salt. In those days, every family grew their own sesame. Unlike the sesame of later years—perhaps due to regional differences—this sesame had an indescribably fresh fragrance, especially when made into sesame salt.

The salty flavor, mingled with the unique aroma of sesame, made it particularly delicious. But Grandma Qi’s sesame salt was special. She didn’t just toast sesame and salt together. First, she would roast the sesame and salt, then add a little water to dissolve the salt and infuse the sesame with flavor. Next, she would pound the mixture in a stone mortar, sift it, making sure the sesame passed through and formed a fine powder. Only then would it be served.

Yehuang had tasted it once and never forgotten it.

“Oh, so my Yehuang wants sesame salt? That’s easy. I’ll make it for you soon,” Grandma Qi said with a smile. “This year, I grew a whole plot of sesame in the kitchen garden. There’s plenty—freshly harvested and sun-dried just two days ago. You’re in luck today, my dear.”

Grandpa Qi laughed as well. “Go ahead and make the sesame salt. Little Yehuang can stay with me. Come, let’s practice calligraphy.”

Yehuang blinked her innocent eyes. Calligraphy? Brushwork? Truly, Grandpa was a formidable character.

But there was no escaping; resistance was futile. Obediently, she followed Grandpa Qi into the study.

Their house was a row of four large rooms, and thanks to Grandpa Qi, they were spacious and built of blue brick and tile. In the area, theirs was considered an excellent house. Most importantly, the layout was in the style of a courtyard home—a landmark that would stand out for decades.

Grandpa Qi’s study was in the leftmost room, divided into two spaces. The southern half served as the study, while the back half was a guest room.

Inside, there were two desks, one large and one small. The shelves along the walls were filled with books—many of them medical texts, specifically on traditional medicine.

Grandpa Qi pointed to the small desk. “You’ll write over there. Practice the character for ‘eternity’—fifty sheets today.” While others might practice large characters, Grandpa Qi went straight for the most complex one.

Yehuang stared in disbelief. “Grandpa, fifty sheets? Couldn’t it be a little less?” Fifty sheets of the character for “eternity”—she felt her life grow bleak.

“No. When your uncle and mother learned, they started with a hundred sheets each day.” Grandpa Qi’s tone was calm but firm, implying she was already getting off lightly.

Yehuang sighed and nodded. “Alright.” It was just for today, after all. School started tomorrow; surely she wouldn’t have to practice anymore.

But Grandpa Qi seemed to read her mind. “Fifty sheets every day. Bring them to me every Sunday. If you do well, I’ll have your uncle take you to the sea. If not, you’ll write a hundred sheets as punishment.”

Truly, the older the ginger, the spicier. Yehuang muttered to herself. Even in her past life as a college graduate, her handwriting had never been much to look at. Well, since life had begun anew, she might as well take the opportunity to improve her script. Not that she would ever admit she was simply too afraid to challenge Grandpa Qi’s authority.

Yehuang was naturally rather lazy, but if given a push, she would act.

Now, with Grandpa Qi’s insistence on daily practice, she settled into her seat and began to learn, stroke by careful stroke.