Chapter 7: An Eldest Brother Like a Father? Nonsense!
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The hungry girl begged her elder brother for food; Wang Xia’s tearful, pitiful expression stirred sympathy.
Old Duan felt a pang of compassion. “Peng, little brother, what’s going on?”
Wang Peng waved his hand dismissively. “Brother, you’ve been fooled by her. She’s nothing but an ungrateful wretch.”
In a past life, when Wang Xia was admitted to university but her parents lacked money for tuition, she had to drop out and work. She knelt at the construction site, begging Wang Peng to find a way.
To fulfill her dream of attending university, Wang Peng, introduced by a coworker, sold blood on the black market. He contracted hepatitis B due to shared needles.
She used the money her brother earned from selling blood to pay for her tuition; those three years’ worth of fees were all his hard-earned money.
She promised, “Brother, I’ll be grateful to you forever. Once I graduate and start working, I’ll give you half my monthly salary and find you a girlfriend from the university.”
But after graduating and joining PetroChina, she didn’t meet her brother for ten years or give him a single penny.
She didn’t even inform him when she got married, nor let him attend the wedding.
There was a time when Wang Peng was unemployed and couldn’t afford hepatitis medication, so he reluctantly asked her for money.
She said, “Brother, it’s not that I don’t want to lend you money. Our household struggles; my husband and I barely make ends meet. You should ask our fourth sister instead.”
At that moment, their pet dog was eating beef from its bowl.
Wang Peng’s heart sank, realizing she was a complete ingrate—happy to take advantage of her brother but never willing to let him benefit in return.
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Looking at her pitiful face, Wang Peng felt disgusted.
After finishing the sesame pancake and chicken blood soup, half a pound of beef remained. He packed it in a plastic bag to save for dinner.
“I bought the beef with my money; why should I give it to you?” he asked.
“I’m your sister. The elder brother is like a father. You always give me the good stuff,” Wang Xia looked longingly at the beef.
“Elder brother like a father?” Wang Peng scooped up Little White and walked away. “Nonsense! This life, I won’t waste a single cent on you.”
Wang Xia hurriedly blocked the cart, pointing at a nearby shoe stall. “Buy me a pair of sneakers, and I’ll pretend I never saw you today.”
“If you don’t buy me shoes, I’ll tell Dad, who’s selling piglets over there. He’ll take all your money and leave you nothing,” she threatened.
Sure enough, old habits die hard. Wang Peng felt a pang in his nose.
Just moments ago, he still held a faint hope—not wanting to equate this third sister with the one from his past life. After all, they shared the same mother; he didn’t want to be lonely.
If only she would shut up or plead a bit more, he could get some of that braised beef.
But her threat extinguished that hope.
“Go ahead and tell him. I’m not afraid.” He pulled the cart to the shoe stall. “Sister, do you have sneakers my size?”
“Yes, what’s your size?” The shopkeeper quickly opened a shoebox. “Double Star cleats, all the rage nationwide.”
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The green-and-black Double Star sports shoes had plastic studs on the soles—a long-established domestic brand known for both style and performance.
A national brand of the 1990s, Wang Peng didn’t know his shoe size.
“I don’t know my size.”
“No worries, trying them on doesn’t cost anything.” The shopkeeper, knowing Wang Peng had money, immediately picked three sizes for him to try.
Wang Peng took off his layered cloth shoes and felt instantly embarrassed—his socks had a hole, and the soles were worn through.
“Ha!” The shopkeeper laughed aloud. “Little brother, don’t be so hard on yourself. Isn’t earning money meant to make life comfortable?”
“That’s wise advice,” Wang Peng complimented her. Wearing plastic bags over his feet, he began trying on shoes. The rubber smell surprisingly had a fresh scent.
After trying three pairs, size 42 fit perfectly. He placed the snakeskin bag on the floor, stepped on it, and walked a few steps.
Comfortable, stylish—like upgrading from an old musket to a modern rifle.
He felt he could outrun Bolt. “Sis, how much for these shoes?”
“Twenty yuan, guaranteed genuine Double Star,” the shopkeeper said. “No bargaining. I’ll throw in ten pairs of socks; your socks have holes.”
She laughed again.
Ten pairs of socks cost at least two yuan. Wang Peng was tired of wearing holey socks and shabby shoes.
He decisively paid, changed into the socks and new shoes. After a lifetime of hard labor, he deserved some comfort.
“Buy me a pair,” Wang Xia grabbed his sleeve, eyes red, staring at the new shoes.
“Look at my old shoes—patched twice. Buy me a pair, please,” she begged.
“I’m under no obligation to buy you shoes. Let your parents buy them,” Wang Peng flung her off and pulled the cart away.
“Big brother, please!” she pleaded.
“Get lost!” Wang Peng shook her off again, raising his fist. “If you grab me again, I’ll hit you.”
His face twisted into a grimace. Even the white cat on the cart shut its eyes in fright.
Wang Xia took a half step back, terrified at first, then furious with shame.
Elder brother like a father—if he had money, he should take care of his sister. Why wouldn’t he buy her shoes?
“Don’t go!” Wang Xia revealed a sharp, bitter expression, shouting toward the pig market, “Dad, Dad, Wang Peng has money…”
Smack—
She was slapped across the face, stunned into silence, and then broke down sobbing.
Wang Peng’s head buzzed. In his past life, he never struck his third sister, no matter how badly she hurt him. He never once thought to insult or hit her.
He looked at his hand, emotions mixed.
“Little brother, go quickly.” Old Duan understood and hurried to restrain Wang Xia.
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The young man selling beef, a Hui Muslim, also came over to help. “Little brother, leave quickly. Don’t stoop to her level.”
Wang Peng snapped back to reality and briskly pulled the cart away.
If Wang Song showed up, it would be even worse—he couldn’t even keep the money from selling melons. Continuing to sell melons was impossible; knowing his nature, it would cause chaos.
“Don’t go, you unfilial son! Don’t leave!” Wang Xia screamed hysterically.
Old Duan and the beef seller teamed up to block her. They still wanted to sell Wang Peng chicken blood soup and beef.
Wearing new shoes made him run faster. Wang Peng raced to the railway workers’ housing compound, circled along the wall to the back, crossed a graveyard, and reached the railway culvert.
He stopped, holding Little White, sitting on the cart, and couldn’t help but bitterly smile.
“What sins have I committed?”
“To be born into such a terrible family!”
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Meow.
Little White, sensing his sadness, stuck out its tongue to lick his face.
“Loss at one place, gain at another. They don’t love me, but there will be those who do—or at least love my cat.”
Wang Peng kissed Little White’s head, set him on the cart, collected himself, and thought of happier things.
Like yesterday, penniless; today, he had 137 yuan in savings, a new pair of sneakers, and ten pairs of socks.
“Keep going. As long as I don’t give up, life will get better,” he encouraged himself.
Pulling the cart out of the culvert, he passed a steamed bun shop and bought two buns to finish the beef.
Returning to the melon fields of Du Zhuang and Du Geda, the two men worked until nightfall and finally loaded 500 jin of watermelons onto the cart.
Wang Peng gave him fifty yuan, tucked eighty yuan into his socks, and kept a few yuan for meals.
“Uncle, I’ll watch the melons tonight, how’s that?” he said.
Du Geda squinted his old eyes. “Be honest. You didn’t just run away after arguing at home, did you?”
“Not running away secretly. It’s an open and honest leaving,” Wang Peng didn’t hide anything. “A friend’s renting a place for me in the county tomorrow. I have nowhere to stay tonight.”
“Why waste that money? How long do you plan to stay?” Du Geda suddenly slapped his thigh.