Chapter 103: The Fallen Grandfather and Grandson

Returning to the dining table, Liu Xing had barely exchanged a few words with Village Chief Zhao when Zhao Dongkui arrived on his bicycle. Behind him trailed Nie Quan and Nie Sun, seated atop the tractor. The tractor’s cargo bed was filled with fir wood, and Zhao Long was seated among the load.

Seeing that most of the others had nearly finished their meal, Zhao Long quickly jumped down from the truck, grabbed a bowl and chopsticks, and began to eat heartily. Nie Sun and Nie Quan made no pretense of politeness either; they drank and ate with equal enthusiasm.

Noticing the dishes on the table were insufficient, Liu Dongju hurriedly handed the little one in her arms to Liu Xing, tied on her apron, and busied herself in the kitchen. The little one, still unable to eat because her mouth had been stung by a ground bee, pouted unhappily at the messy spread on the table.

Liu Xing caught on and couldn’t help but laugh. He picked up a piece of lean meat with his chopsticks and fed it to the little one. “Eat quickly, just chew slowly.”

“Okay!” the little one nodded eagerly.

After tasting the delicious food, she wriggled free from Liu Xing’s arms, ran into the kitchen, fetched her small bowl and spoon, and sat at the wooden table, savoring the meal. As for the swollen lip from the sting, it seemed to have slipped from her mind.

“Haha… that little girl,” Village Chief Zhao chuckled. “Children are truly wonderful — food makes them forget all sorrow and pain.”

A smile played on Liu Xing’s face as well. Suddenly, he stood and looked around. “By the way, where did my sister Guazi go?”

“She went with my wife to bring food to the beggars by the roadside,” Village Chief Zhao sighed softly in reply.

“Ah?” Liu Xing turned to look toward the roadside.

Sure enough, just as Village Chief Zhao said, Guazi and Zhao Jing, two children of similar age, each carried a large bowl of rice and vegetables as they approached two beggars — an old man and a child.

The old beggar, with graying temples, wore tattered clothes and sported a thick beard. The young beggar, no older than ten, was scruffy and small, their gender indistinct.

At that moment, Village Chief Zhao spoke slowly, “Those two are grandfather and grandchild. They fled here from another province, but they never say what troubles they escaped.”

“The last time they begged at my house, I gave the old man a yuan, but he refused it. He said he only begged to feed his granddaughter; otherwise, he would have long since drowned himself,” Nie Sun added.

“A beggar with such loyalty and love,” someone murmured.

“How could such a good person fall so low?” Liu Xing felt a deep ache in his heart upon hearing this. Seeing there was nothing more pressing that evening, after instructing Zhao Dongkui to take good care of the other guests, he rose and walked toward the roadside. Village Chief Zhao followed, smoking his pipe.

By the roadside, Liu Xing saw the grandfather and grandchild beggars clearly. Their dirtied, disheveled appearance confirmed they were genuine beggars—unlike many who would later pretend for sympathy. Their skin was cracked and marked with streaks of blood, likely from enduring harsh exposure.

The old beggar, likely ill, sat slumped on the ground, unable to stand. A strange “heh heh” sound came from his throat. His large bare feet protruded from his worn pants, the soles thickly calloused.

In other words, he had not arrived at Old House Village barefoot after a long journey from another province without good reason.

The young beggar’s eyes were dim; their small frame shivered in the breeze. Watching the fatty piece of meat in Guazi’s small bowl, they swallowed hard.

“If you want to eat, go ahead! We’re not bad people,” Village Chief Zhao said gently.

The young beggar hesitated, not taking the bowl from Guazi but turning instead to look at the old man with hopeful eyes.

“Thank you, Old Village Chief,” the old beggar said, struggling to rise but ultimately failing.

Hearing this, the young beggar eagerly took the bowl and chopsticks from Guazi and began to devour the food.

“Grandpa, here!” Zhao Jing handed the old man her bowl of food.

“Thank you!” the old man choked up with emotion.

Village Chief Zhao stroked his beard and sighed, “If you get to eat meat today, you should thank not me, but this young lad here,” he said, pointing to Liu Xing.

“Thank you! Thank you!” The old beggar set down the bowl and chopsticks, then knelt before Liu Xing with the young beggar.

“Please don’t do that,” Liu Xing quickly helped them to their feet.

Looking more closely, he noticed the old man’s dignified bearing—there was an extraordinary aura about him. In other words, before falling on hard times, this man was definitely no ordinary person.

With this thought, Liu Xing spoke softly, “Grandfather, if you don’t mind, my sister has some leftover food. Would you like to come and eat with us?”

“No, thank you,” the old beggar politely declined.

“All right,” Liu Xing sighed softly, sensing the man’s wariness. He embraced Guazi and began to leave.

Village Chief Zhao didn’t linger at the roadside either. After patting the old man’s shoulder, he picked up Zhao Jing and followed Liu Xing.

Upon returning to the front gate, Liu Xing didn’t join Nie Sun, Nie Quan, Zhao Biao, and Zhao Hu in discussing renovations. Instead, he went to the backyard and took out two pairs of shoes made from recycled tires—one size 42 slippers for adults, and one pair for children.

Originally intended as gifts for Village Chief Zhao and Zhao Jing, he now had others who needed them more and changed his plans.

Seeing that the little one had finished eating, he knelt and handed the shoes to her. “Will you help your uncle by delivering these shoes to the beggars by the roadside? When you come back, I’ll reward you with a twisted fried dough stick.”

“Okay! Okay!” the little one agreed eagerly.

“Brother, I want a dough stick too,” Guazi hugged Liu Xing’s right leg and looked up with bright eyes.

“Then you can go with the little one to deliver the shoes,” Liu Xing said, pinching Guazi’s cheek.

“Okay, okay!” Guazi took the little one’s hand and, with short legs, ran toward the roadside.

The old beggar, hearing footsteps, looked up quickly. Seeing the small girl who had brought food earlier, he struggled to stand with the help of a wooden stick.

The young beggar stopped eating and looked at Guazi and the little one with kind eyes.

“Grandfather, these are shoes my brother sent for you. Your granddaughter has a pair too,” Guazi stepped forward and handed over the two pairs of slippers from the little one.

“This... this is too precious. I can’t accept them,” the old man hesitated.

The young beggar was equally confused.

Because in their memory, such shoes were strictly controlled items. Without certificates and a lot of money, they were simply unaffordable.

“Why can’t you accept? My uncle made these shoes from old tires, and he doesn’t want any money from you,” the little one said, somewhat upset. If the shoes weren’t accepted, she wouldn’t get the dough stick her mother had hidden for her.

“Your uncle is?” the old man asked, surprised.

“He’s my brother—the one who treated you to food earlier,” Guazi explained with a smile.

“Oh,” the old man suddenly realized. After some hesitation, he accepted the slippers. “Child, please tell your brother thank you. If I’m ever able to ‘stand’ again in my lifetime, I will surely repay him.”

“Oh... so formal,” Guazi shrank her neck. “I’ll pass the message, but please be careful at night. Don’t sleep by the roadside—watch out for mosquitoes.”

“Thank you for the reminder,” the old man chuckled, touched by Guazi’s innocence and warmth.

But his smile soon faded as he frowned and looked at the little one. “What happened to your lip? It’s so swollen and red.”

“I was digging an ant nest earlier and accidentally disturbed a ground bee’s nest. One stung me,” the little one replied shyly.

“But it should be fine now,” Guazi added with a smile. After all, she had eaten plenty of meat earlier; if it had been serious, she wouldn’t have eaten so much.

“Who says it’s fine?” The old man’s expression turned grave. He examined the swollen lip closely, then, leaning on his stick, searched the grass by the roadside for a small blue-flowered plant. He crushed it on a pebble with his stick and applied the paste to the little one’s swollen lip.

“Grandfather, what are you doing?” Guazi asked, puzzled.

“Applying medicine to prevent the wound from getting infected and worsening,” the old man said, settling on a stone with the young beggar’s help. “Don’t underestimate a ground bee sting. If the wrong food is eaten afterward, it can be deadly.”

“Ah?” Guazi was startled.

The little one shrank back nervously.

“But now that I’ve applied the medicine, it should be fine. After a night’s rest, you’ll be all right tomorrow,” the old man said, stroking his beard with a smile.

“Thank you, Grandfather,” Guazi said sincerely.

“Yes, thank you, Grandfather,” the little one echoed.

“It’s nothing compared to the meal your brother prepared,” the old man waved his hand.

“We can’t say that,” Guazi said, taking the little one’s hand. “Grandfather, it’s late. We have to go. Goodbye!”

“Goodbye,” the old man nodded slowly.

“Let’s go!” Guazi led the little one away.

After walking a few steps, the little one suddenly turned back. “Grandfather, are you a doctor?”

“In a way,” the old man sighed heavily, his eyes filled with deep resignation and endless weariness. Such weariness seemed to weigh down the whole world...