CHAPTER 55: CHAPTER 55 LEARNING TO HOLD A PEN

At that moment, their house’s front door was suddenly knocked on. The visitor turned out to be a servant from Country Gentry Wei’s family. He brought a bag of fruits, a bag of pastries, and two fish, saying it was an apology for the children’s fight earlier today.

In fact, when children fight, regardless of who started it, both sides are at fault.

Now that the Wei family had come to apologize, Zhao Dong had a somewhat better impression of them.

So, when Zhao Zhitong finished washing and changing her clothes, she ran out of her room to find several little radish heads gathered in the courtyard, staring at something.

She squeezed through the crowd to see, and it turned out to be two big, fat fish.

Zhao Zhitong was puzzled. "Wow, where did these fish come from?"

Sun Daqing happily replied, "A servant from Country Gentry Wei’s family just brought them, along with two boxes of pastries."

As he spoke, he pointed them out to Zhao Zhitong.

Thus, the little radish heads began discussing how to cook the fish. Some suggested boiling it, some suggested frying it, and others suggested steaming it.

As they debated, their stomachs started to growl, and they turned their attention to the two boxes of pastries. After Sun Mei nodded her approval, a swarm of little radish heads rushed to grab the treats.

The pastries were mung bean cakes, which smelled incredibly sweet, but there weren’t many of them. So, Zhao Zhitong stood up, hugged the pastries, and said, "You mustn’t grab them! We should all share and eat together; that’s the most delicious way."

Her cousins, whose names (like Daqing’s ’Great Celebration’) often carried auspicious meanings, nodded in agreement. "We’ll listen to our little cousin sister."

So, Zhao Zhitong acted as the pastry ’referee,’ breaking the mung bean cakes into pieces and handing them out to her older brothers and sisters.

She then gave pieces to her uncle, aunt, father, mother, and grandfather as well.

By the time she finished, only a small bite remained in her hand. Zhao Zhitong didn’t mind having the smallest share. She happily popped it into her mouth, and as the sweet taste of mung beans filled her mouth, she closed her eyes in delight. "This is so delicious!"

The little radish heads all nodded in agreement. "Yeah, yeah, it’s really tasty."

Then, this group of gluttonous little radish heads turned their gaze to the box of fruits.

Zhao Zhitong didn’t like eating fruits, as they were too sweet for her taste. So, she distributed all the fruits to her family and then excitedly ran off to grab the paper that Zhao Dong had bought for her.

After the other children finished eating the fruits, they gathered around Zhao Zhitong, watching her grind ink and write.

Zhao Zhitong could hold a pencil, but she had no idea how to grip a brush. So, she just clutched the entire brush in her hand and began to write her name on the paper.

However, the ink wasn’t properly ground, and she had pressed down too hard. As a result, the brush’s bristles were flattened, leaving a black, ink-soaked mess on the paper. It looked like a ghost had drawn the symbols, and her writing was completely illegible.

Sun Daqing laughed at the sight. "Little cousin sister, your writing is so ugly."

Zhao Zhitong didn’t care and confidently replied, "I just started learning. Once I practice for a few days, my writing will look better."

Then, she happily admired her own ’masterpiece.’

Sun Kang, watching from the side, found it amusing. "Come, young girl, let your grandfather teach you how to hold a brush."

Zhao Zhitong’s eyes sparkled as she looked at her grandfather. "Wow, Grandpa can write too! Grandpa is so amazing!"

Sun Kang laughed heartily. "That’s right. Your grandfather needs to write prescriptions for people. If I couldn’t write, how could I do that?"

He then brought a stool over for Zhao Zhitong to sit on and told her, "To write properly, you must sit upright with your back straight. Great. Now, open your palm, point your thumb up, and slightly bend your ring and little fingers."

Zhao Zhitong obediently followed the instructions and then looked at Sun Kang for praise. "Grandfather, is this right?"

Sun Kang laughed. "Yes, that’s correct. Now, hold the brush between your middle finger and ring finger. Let your middle and index fingers naturally rest against the brush, and place your thumb between your middle and index fingers. Yes, just like that..."

Today, Zhao Zhitong learned how to hold a brush from her grandfather and was very excited. She wrote a large character and said that she would show it to her Teacher at school the next day.

Sun Daqing and the other little radish heads also enthusiastically gathered around to learn, copying Zhao Zhitong’s actions and reciting the words after her as she practiced writing.

The atmosphere in the little courtyard was warm and harmonious, filled with joyful laughter.

Zhao Yu, who was helping Sun Mei with the fire, looked over at them. Hearing their laughter, he couldn’t help but grin foolishly. When they recited characters, he quietly followed along too.

Zhao Cheng, who was chopping firewood, also had a smile on his face. They felt that this was the happiest time of their lives. How wonderful!

If only their younger sister were here as well.

The thought flashed through Zhao Yu’s mind before quickly disappearing, and he chastised himself for being too greedy.

It was already an enormous kindness that their uncle and aunt had taken them in. How could he want more?

Shaking his head, he quickly refocused on tending the fire.

While the Zhao Family enjoyed a warm and harmonious scene, chaos reigned in the Wei household. Mrs. Wu had stopped pretending to be virtuous and was causing a constant commotion.

Fortunately, this time Mrs. Wei had taken Wei Shulan into her care. Mrs. Wu only dared to cause trouble in her own courtyard and wouldn’t go before the old matriarch, so Wei Shulan was thus spared from being bullied.

The Qiao Clan was also far from calm. Qiao Muchen had been born prematurely and had a weak constitution, falling ill at the slightest breeze. Now, he had even gotten into a fight, which scared Mother Qiao to no end.

Even though the Wei family relayed that a physician had examined him and said there was no serious harm, she still fretted incessantly, holding her son and crying, "My child, you mustn’t suffer any accidents. You’re all I have left. You’re all I have."

This wasn’t the first time Qiao Muchen had seen his mother so distraught. Every time he fell ill, she would react this way.

Though he was young, he understood that after his father’s death, only he and his mother remained in the Qiao Clan. He was her sole support.

So, he couldn’t let anything happen to himself. What would his mother do then?

He hugged Mother Qiao tightly, crying, "Mother, I’m sorry for making you worry again. I won’t get into fights anymore. Please stop crying."

As the mother and son held each other for comfort, Old Lady Qian couldn’t help but dab at her tears. Then she went outside and gave her own grandson a beating. "I told you to stay with the young master, but you came back alone! If anything happens to him, I’ll break your legs!"

Xiao Shitou, terrified, scuttled around the courtyard. "Grandma, don’t hit me! Don’t hit me! I know I was wrong!"

Hearing the commotion outside, Qiao Muchen came out and stopped her. "Grandma Qian, don’t hit Xiao Shitou. It’s not his fault; I asked him to come back."

Only then did Grandma Qian drop the wooden stick in her hand and, with reddened eyes, look at Qiao Muchen. "Young master, you are the old master’s only descendant. In the future, please don’t do anything dangerous, understand?"

She had been Mother Qiao’s wet nurse, always by Mother Qiao’s side from her maiden days through her marriage. She had also watched Qiao Muchen being born so tiny and frail; physicians had even said the child wouldn’t survive. But he was the old master’s last bloodline.

She and the young lady, Mother Qiao, had stubbornly refused to give up. When Mother Qiao had no breast milk, they borrowed milk from wherever they could and used goat’s milk, painstakingly nurturing the child bit by bit until he grew to his current state.

If she might speak out of turn, she cherished the young master as if he were her own grandson.

Qiao Muchen nodded vigorously. "Don’t worry, Grandma Qian. From now on, I won’t let Mother and you worry about me."