Chapter 353 - 291: Retort
"Dad!"
"Dad!"
Seeing Zhao Youcai return, Zhao Hong and Zhao Na called out, "Dad." Zhao Youcai grunted in acknowledgment, then began taking off his cotton-padded jacket, his eyes fixed on Zhao Jun.
"Dad," Zhao Jun said with a smile. "How come you’re back so early today?"
"What about it?" Zhao Youcai headed for the hook on the wall with his jacket, but his eyes were glued to Zhao Jun. He shot back cockily, "This is my house. Is there a problem with me coming home early?"
Zhao Jun: "..."
Just then, Wang Meilan, who had gone to the cupboard for a ladle, returned. She glanced at Zhao Youcai and asked, "What’s with you? Have you been drinking?"
At the sight of Wang Meilan, Zhao Youcai’s bluster deflated. He mumbled, "No, I haven’t. I haven’t even eaten yet."
"You haven’t?" Wang Meilan separated the chopsticks, handing a pair to Zhao Na and another to Zhao Hong before turning back to him. "If you haven’t been drinking, why is your face all red?"
"Ah, it’s from being outside. Chapped by the wind," Zhao Youcai said as he slipped off his shoes and got onto the kang. He took the chopsticks from Wang Meilan, his eyes sweeping over the table. Then he looked up at Zhao Jun and said, "Go on, get me the liquor."
"Alright, you got it." Upon hearing this, Zhao Jun quickly got up and went to the outer room to fetch the liquor jug and a cup for Zhao Youcai. Ever the filial son, he even unscrewed the jug’s lid and poured his father a generous half cup.
"Son, hurry and sit down to eat," Wang Meilan said, motioning for Zhao Jun to sit and handing him his chopsticks.
The food was excellent, and the family of five ate with gusto. The two little girls, however, were young and had small appetites. After eating half a bowl each, they left the table to go play.
After a while, Wang Meilan also put down her chopsticks, but she remained seated on the kang, watching Zhao Jun and Zhao Youcai eat.
Sometimes, just being able to quietly watch your loved ones eat is the greatest happiness.
One was the man she had spent half her life with. Although Zhao Youcai could be stubborn at times, in all these years, even during the hardest, most difficult days, he had never let her suffer any grievance.
The other was her son, the very flesh of her flesh. She remembered when he was born, he weighed less than seven jin.
And now, in the whole village, there wasn’t a child more filial or more promising than her son.
At this moment, feeling that her life was already perfect, Wang Meilan turned to Zhao Youcai and said, "Dear, you should go talk to Guofeng one of these days. Have him approve a plot of land for our son. After that, we can start gathering materials to build him a house."
"Mhm," Zhao Youcai grunted, a simple sound from his nose.
Her heart swelling with joy, Wang Meilan continued, "I was just telling our son earlier, I want to buy him a motorcycle before he gets married."
"How much would that cost?" Hearing Wang Meilan talk about buying Zhao Jun a motorcycle, Zhao Youcai shot a sidelong glare at his son, though his words were directed at his wife. "Building a house, getting him a wife... do we even have any money left?"
"We do," Wang Meilan, still lost in her wonderful daydreams, said enthusiastically. "Our son has earned so much in the last six months, and there’s what I’ve saved up over the years. If we scrape it all together, it’ll be enough."
It wasn’t clear if he was angry or had too much to drink, but upon hearing this, Zhao Youcai slammed his cup on the table and snapped at Wang Meilan, "How come you don’t mention the money I earned?"
The moment Zhao Youcai said this, the east room of Zhao Jun’s family home fell completely silent. Even the two little sisters, who had been rolling around and playing on the kang, didn’t dare make a sound.
Zhao Youcai’s heart skipped a beat. ’This is bad,’ he thought. Just as he was about to say something nice to smooth things over, Wang Meilan slammed her hand on the table and shouted, "Zhao Youcai, what’s that supposed to mean? Are you saying I don’t work, that I don’t earn any money?!"
"No, no." Zhao Youcai panicked, waving his hands frantically. "How could you think that? That’s not what I meant at all! Hasn’t our family depended on you all these years? Tending the fields, taking care of the house..."
Zhao Jun sat right across from Zhao Youcai, almost burying his head in his rice bowl. ’Isn’t my old man just a glutton for punishment? He isn’t happy unless he gets yelled at.’
Wang Meilan shot Zhao Youcai a fierce glare, scooped up the chopsticks from the table with one hand, and gathered her own, Zhao Hong’s, and Zhao Na’s bowls with the other. Stacking the three bowls, she carried them and headed for the outer room.
Zhao Jun continued to eat in silence, his head down. Across from him, Zhao Youcai sat cross-legged, his back ramrod straight. He held the cup to his lips, taking tiny sips, his gaze fixed on Zhao Jun the whole time.
Seeing that Zhao Jun was ignoring him, Zhao Youcai’s eyes darted around. He placed his cup on the edge of the kang table and asked, "When I saw you at the canteen today, the clothes you were wearing... they didn’t seem to be the ones you had on when you left home yesterday, were they?"
"Ah." Hearing Zhao Youcai’s question, Zhao Jun gave him a brief explanation.
But after listening, Zhao Youcai didn’t seem satisfied. Instead, he berated him, "A perfectly good padded jacket and pants, and you just gave them away? Don’t those things cost money? I work my butt off at the camp all day, and you’re out here squandering things, is that it?"
’Isn’t he just looking for trouble?’
’It’s true I gave away a set of clothes, but I was going to the camp. Wouldn’t wearing them have been an embarrassment to my brother-in-law? And to him, Zhao Youcai?’
’Not to mention, who knows if the stains would have even washed out. Besides, I gave one set away, but didn’t I come back wearing a new one?’
’Besides, he’s not a laborer, just a cook. How much work could he possibly do in a day? "Work my butt off," he says. He practically lords it over everyone in that canteen all day.’
Thinking about how his father had been finding fault with everything he did since he got home, Zhao Jun’s temper started to flare.
The key thing was, he was full now. He could go back to his room.
So, Zhao Jun immediately retorted, "I saw that Uncle Hu and his son were in a tough spot. The jacket and pants were covered in blood; it would never have washed out. What’s the big deal about giving it to them?"
"What’s the big deal?" Zhao Youcai shouted. "You’ve had a few good days and now you’ve forgotten yourself, is that it? A padded jacket and pants aren’t something you can just give away!"
"And why not?" Zhao Jun shot back. "It’s not like I stuffed the jacket with money."
"I..." Zhao Youcai froze on the spot. Two seconds later, he snapped back to his senses, pointed at Zhao Jun, and roared, "You little bastard..."
"You kid..." Just then, Wang Meilan rushed in from the outer room. She raised her hand and gave Zhao Jun a light swat on the back. When she spoke again, she couldn’t hold back her laughter. Chuckling, she "scolded" him, "Is that any way to talk to your father? Go on, get back to your room."
His mother had given him an out, and Zhao Jun immediately bolted. Wang Meilan followed right behind him, leaving only Zhao Hong and Zhao Na rolling around on the kang and an eye-bulging, furious Zhao Youcai sitting at the kang table in the east room.
Suddenly, Zhao Youcai snatched up his cup, tilted his head back, and downed the liquor in one gulp.
The 112-proof Kaoliang liquor packed a serious punch. There had been a good ounce or more left in the cup, and Zhao Youcai drank it in a hurry. As it went down in one go, a fiery heat shot from his throat straight to his forehead. The burn made him frown, scrunch up his nose, squeeze his eyes shut, and clutch his head.
Wang Meilan followed Zhao Jun into the opposite room, turning to shut the door behind her. Then, facing Zhao Jun and the three injured dogs, she began to lecture him.
"Son, you can’t be like that with your father," Wang Meilan said. "Why do you always have to provoke him?"
Zhao Jun gave a dry laugh. "Mom, I just couldn’t help it. You saw how he was taking jabs at me the moment he walked in."
"Oh, you kid," Wang Meilan said, a hint of complaint in her voice. "No matter what, he’s still your father. You can’t keep angering him like that."
"Mom, it’s not..."
"What do you mean, ’it’s not’?" Seeing Zhao Jun try to argue, Wang Meilan said irritably, "If you anger him so much he falls ill, who’s going to suffer? It’ll be you and me, won’t it?"