Chapter 122
Doctor Wu had taught them so much knowledge, and now it all came in handy.
Taking the pulse, diagnosing, selecting medicine, administering acupuncture—it took Wen Zhiyun a full half hour before he finally emerged from the room with his small medicine box on his back.
His expression was a little ugly, with fatigue in his brow.
Jiang Sheng and Zheng Ruqian hurried over anxiously, “Fourth brother, are you okay?”
Wen Zhiyun shook his head, his gaze settling on the Wang siblings.
The anxiety moved to a new place as Wang Xiaosong’s palms grew clammy. He stared steadily at Wen Zhiyun and said, “Doctor, just tell us plainly—our mother has been ill for years, we’re mentally prepared.”
Wang Xiaozhu covered her face again and sobbed.
But before Wen Zhiyun could speak, a soft call came from inside the room: “Xiaosong, Xiaozhu.”
It was their mother.
“Mother!” Wang Xiaozhu shrieked and rushed into the room.
In her hurry, her skirt tripped her at the threshold. She crawled forward desperately on hands and knees straight into the inner room.
“Xiaozhu, you’ve gotten so thin these days. Haven’t you been eating properly?” the gentle voice asked. “Wait a moment, mother will make you something tasty.”
Wang Xiaozhu nodded tearfully. “I want to eat the pancakes mother makes.”
There were sounds of rummaging around in the room, as if someone really was making dough.
Outside, Wang Xiaosong's eyes were red.
Compared to his sister's naivety, he was a bit more mature and knew their mother had already passed on. How could she possibly wake up, much less make pancakes?
"Doctor, what exactly is wrong with my mother?" His voice trembled. "Is mother well, or..."
A flash before death?
Wen Zhiyun nodded heavily confirming the answer.
No matter how skilled the doctor, they couldn't bring back someone at death's door. At most, they could briefly rally before the final mercy of the King of Hell. Tears rolled down Wang Xiaosong's cheeks.
He thanked Wen Zhiyun. "I thought these would be my mother's final days, but I didn't expect to be able to speak with her properly again. Please pardon us for not being able to host you further."
After speaking, the youth rushed into the room to cherish the final moments with his mother.
They were poor and couldn't afford meat. His mother would make fragrant pancakes with flour, crispy on the outside and soft inside, with a sprinkle of Sichuan pepper and green onion. Even without any dishes, they could each eat two or three.
Now, their mother was making them one final meal of pancakes.
She was more generous with oil than before, and sprinkled on plenty of green onion. Each child got seven or eight pancakes.
"Your mother is leaving. Xiaosong and Xiaozhu won't get to eat the pancakes mother makes anymore," the woman said weakly with a smile. "Eat more this time, eat your fill, and mother's heart will be at ease."
The siblings' eyes were red, but neither dared to cry. They took a bite of pancake, barely managing to swallow it down.
She glanced outside at the four children standing there. "Xiaozhu said they wanted to ask about the sausage recipe? I don't have the strength to make it, so pass it along for me."
"For the meat, three parts fat, seven parts lean is best. Mix some ground meat with some chunks, that's the best texture. Season with Sichuan pepper, allspice, add sugar to freshen, and wine to reduce odors..."
Wang Xiaosong committed every word to memory.
The woman who had been making pancakes just before suddenly felt her eyelids grow heavy. She leaned against the edge of the bed, breathing with difficulty. "Your mother is leaving now. Xiaosong, take care of your sister. Live well, you must live properly."
Her words faded, as did her hand.
Wang Xiaosong threw down the pancakes and rushed over. Wang Xiaozhu erupted into earth-shattering sobs.
They all knew at this moment, they no longer had a mother.
In the courtyard, Jiang Sheng was at a loss. She didn't have a mother herself and didn't know how painful it was to lose one.
But on second thought, she had only known her brothers for two years. If she were to lose them, it would probably hurt so much she couldn't breathe or stand up straight.
So she could understand the Wang siblings.
"Should we...not disturb them?" Jiang Sheng asked Zheng Ruqian.
Zheng Ruqian had no experience either and replied hesitantly, "I guess so."
They had just lost their mother. How could they pester them about recipes?
Jiang Sheng drifted away dispiritedly, about to leave.
Suddenly several strangers barged in from outside. They paused at the sight of Jiang Sheng and her brothers, but quickly stormed into the inner room with imposing manner.
The middle-aged man in the lead loudly declared, "Wang Xiaosong, now that your father has lost his wife and died as well, you should return the old Wang estate."
"On what grounds?" Wang Xiaosong cried angrily. "This was my parents' house, our family's estate. What business is it of yours?" The man sneered contemptuously, "This estate was gifted by your grandfather to your parents. Now that your parents are gone and grandfather still lives, what's wrong with taking it back?"
Clearly, they were bullying a pair of orphans with no one to turn to.
The estate had been bought by his parents for ten taels of silver. Just because they were blood relatives, they had only stamped handprints and not gone through proper official deeds. Now the paper contract was worthless, and the name on the deed was still the grandfather's.
The true young masters were now forcibly driven out.
They didn't even have time to bury their mother.
"Inauspicious! We came too late and let the woman die right in the yard,” Wang Xiaosong’s uncle complained.
Another placated him, “No matter. We’ll rebuild anyway. This tattered house isn’t livable."
Wang Xiaosong's eyes were red with hatred. He rushed into the kitchen to grab a cleaver, prepared to fight to the death.
Fortunately Jiang Sheng appeared in time to stop him.
Wang Xiaozhu murmured through teary eyes, “Uncle wasn’t like this before. Why did he change? Why?”
Because poverty makes people bullies.
Because adversity reveals true feelings.
The smiles during prosperity were mostly false courtesy. Only the hands extended during hardship were genuine.
Chang Yan, who had been silent all this time, suddenly stood in front of Wang Xiaosong. Looking up, he said, "Rather than rush in and get yourself killed, live properly and surpass them in the future, stepping them beneath your feet."
Be better than them, stronger than them. Mock their weakness, deride their foolishness.
Everyone harbored some level of resentment in their hearts. If rage took over and one acted on impulse, it would only lead to mutual destruction.
It was better to focus on self-improvement, and one day stand at a height they couldn't even look up to see, letting them gaze up in awe.
Only then could those hopes be fulfilled.
The cleavers slipped from Wang Xiaosong's hands and crashed to the floor.
Seeing his words had struck home, Chang Yan said no more.
Zheng Ruqian sighed. “Bury the deceased first.”
The children worked together from noon to afternoon before finally laying Mrs. Wang to rest.
Wang Xiaosong made a wooden gravestone and knocked his head three times.
“Mother, I will take care of my sister properly. We will live well, don’t worry, absolutely don’t worry.”
He turned back to Jiang Sheng. “The sausage recipe you wanted, I memorized it all. I’ll write it down on paper later.”
Jiang Sheng's eyes lit up.