Chapter 75: Lending a Hand

Liu Jianmin had never done any physical labor; he was a researcher, someone who used his mind. Now, being asked to try tea frying alongside Chen Xin, he struggled even more than she did. His awkward movements amused his parents so much that their smiles stretched from ear to ear.

Zhang Zhang insisted on joining the tea frying as well, but his small frame barely reached the height of the stove. He stood on tiptoe for a while, then scampered over to Grandpa Liu, eager to learn how to sort tea leaves.

And to be fair, the little chubby Zhang Zhang was quite diligent. Aunt Zhang gave him a small bamboo basket, set him on a little stool, and he quietly sorted through the entire basket of tea leaves. Aunt Zhang was genuinely surprised when she checked his work.

“This little one is really something. My own grandson doesn’t have this patience. Every time he helps sort tea, his mother always has to go over it a second time.”

Receiving praise, Zhang Zhang grinned, his chubby face all smiles and squinting eyes.

Meanwhile, Chen Xin followed Grandpa Zhang and tried frying a batch of tea leaves. After more than half an hour, her arms felt too heavy to lift.

“This is just the beginning,” Grandpa Zhang said. “You’ve only fried so little tea, and you haven’t even learned to toss the leaves yet. In a day or two, you won’t even be able to lift a bowl. If you want to quit, now’s your chance.”

“No, this is just muscle fatigue. Once I get through this period, I’ll adapt.” Chen Xin was stubborn by nature. Since she had pleaded to learn, she wouldn’t give up halfway. If she lacked strength, she would train herself. One day, she would fry a batch smoothly from start to finish.

She had originally planned to stay in the mountains for about ten days, but because of the tea frying, she decided to stay longer, to leave only after the tea season had passed.

The same idea occurred to the elderly couple from the Liu family. They didn’t visit Aunt Zhang on the mountain every day; instead, they wandered the area, sometimes fishing with retired cadres by the pond, sometimes going to the market with their relatives. A few days ago, they even joined a two-day excursion, soaking in hot springs in the mountains beyond the back hills.

After two weeks of such leisure, Grandma Liu’s spirits returned to what they were before the incident.

“You know Grandpa Yuan up ahead? The old revolutionary, former Red Army. He has four sons, and things were quite chaotic at first. Eventually, he just divided up his assets, gave each son a share, and used his pension to hire a housekeeper. Every year, he joins all sorts of travel and wellness trips organized by the military district and community. He ignores whatever trouble his children get into, and now, instead of fighting, they take turns driving over to see him and accompany him on outings. Every summer, he stays at the sanatorium here, and his grandchildren come to keep him company for stretches. His life seems very comfortable.”

“It’s true. Children have their own lives. You’ve worried about them for decades—do you really need to worry for a lifetime? When they’re in trouble, help if you can, but don’t create unnecessary issues. Without conflict, feelings within the family won’t be hurt.”

Chen Xin had no parents herself and couldn’t fully understand the mindset of the elderly, but as an observer, her advice was generally reliable. Still, when it was her own affairs, she knew it would be much harder to handle.

“That’s right. So, my husband and I have agreed that when we return home, we’ll make plans with our old friends to spend a month or two somewhere warm in winter. We’ll come back before the New Year.”

“Go south,” Chen Xin suggested. “I heard Hainan is nice. There’s a place being developed for elderly winter living, but it’s still just a concept; I’m not sure about the details.”

“Hainan…” Grandma Liu paused, fingers stilling as she pinched vegetables. “I’ve heard about it, but not as a retirement thing. People buy homes there and stay for three or four months when it’s cold. But it doesn’t seem realistic. The New Year, after all, should be spent at home.”

Chen Xin did not argue. For the current generation of elderly, spending winter elsewhere wasn’t the norm. Their greatest wish was to have the whole family together for the New Year, so leaving home for the holidays was out of the question.

Chen Xin herself wanted to spend the New Year in Hainan, but she had already promised the Zhang family she would return. Moreover, her second sister had called recently—their brother and Yan Chunhua had made their relationship official, and barring any surprises, the wedding would be held at the Spring Festival.

For that, she would definitely go to the Zhang family for the New Year, and arrive early to see if she could help. She knew nothing about rural wedding customs, and the internet wasn’t advanced enough to answer every question. So, while learning to sort tea with Aunt Zhang, she asked casually.

“It’s different everywhere. Our wedding procedures are much like those in the city, but there’s the added tradition of the bride’s family hosting a banquet.”

This “sending off the bride and banquet” was similar to the old custom of displaying the dowry, where relatives would contribute gifts. Nowadays, those gifts were mostly monetary, with close relatives giving gold jewelry.

But here, the gold jewelry wasn’t lavish. Most people gave a gold ring or earrings as a token. Aunt Zhang spoke of her elder sister-in-law’s granddaughter’s wedding, describing a spectacle where gold bracelets were strung together and hung around her neck—she estimated the chain weighed over ten kilograms. There were gold rings, earrings, necklaces, and the bride was adorned in red and gold from head to toe.

“I went, but since I didn’t prepare much, I gave a pile of gold earrings. My sister-in-law still called me stingy and money-loving behind my back. My family is poor, not like hers. If relatives want to stay in touch, they will. If not, so be it. We’re scattered all over; nobody relies on anyone for their livelihood.”

Aunt Zhang clearly still harbored some resentment. If she hadn’t lost both sons, her life wouldn’t be so difficult now.

Chen Xin couldn’t help much with Aunt Zhang’s troubles. What could be let go, Aunt Zhang had already come to terms with over decades. What couldn’t, no amount of advice would solve.

“Forget it, why am I telling you all this?” Aunt Zhang sniffed and wiped her eyes as she turned away.

Chen Xin said nothing, helping to set the bamboo sieve on the rack and taking another down to sort tea.

“This batch is the last of the tea. In a couple of days, the weather will turn and there won’t be enough sunlight. Besides, I never expected the tea to sell so well this year. The previously stored leaves have all gone to the village for unified processing. Next year, your Uncle Zhang and I will produce more, and you’ll have to help us sell it, Xiao Xin.”