Chapter 96: Returning Home

Early in the morning, Wang Qiang stepped out of the inn. The sky had cleared, but the eastern horizon was still painted with clouds. The sun hid behind the layers, casting strands of golden light that transformed the sky into a sea of rosy dawn.

The street was damp from the watering truck, and puddles in the low spots mirrored the gray-blue sky above. The morning air was exceptionally fresh. Stretching his sore, tired body from days of hard work, Wang Qiang walked slowly toward the bus station.

Since the game room was about to open, he declined Lao Zhu’s offer to take him to the station.

A walk was good for him anyway.

Unhurried, about fifteen minutes later, he arrived at the bus station.

At the ticket window, Wang Qiang squeezed through the crowd. “To Jinghai Haitong.”

“Twenty,” the clerk said.

Wang Qiang handed over a fifty.

The clerk gave him the ticket and change.

He glanced at the ticket: quarter past eight, twenty minutes until boarding.

Wang Qiang went to the waiting room. Being an international metropolis, even this early, the waiting room was packed with noisy travelers. No seats were left, so he stood by window fourteen, waiting for boarding time.

Five minutes passed...

Ten minutes...

Fifteen minutes...

Perhaps because his mood was particularly light, the twenty minutes slipped by in a blink.

“Boarding for Haitong now. Please line up and come one by one,” the ticket inspector announced over the microphone.

Wang Qiang was the first.

After the ticket check, he went outside and boarded the bus. Carrying cash in his suitcase, he kept it with him instead of placing it in the luggage compartment.

Looking down at his outfit, he noticed how different he looked from when he first arrived in Shanghai. Back then, his short-sleeved shirt had a patched lower left corner, making him appear very humble. Now, his black jacket—though not a brand—looked respectable. Alongside his suitcase, he bore the air of a man on the rise.

The bus started moving quickly.

He closed his eyes and drifted off, probably due to poor sleep the night before. Soon, soft snores escaped him as he fell asleep.

...

“We’ve arrived at Minqiang Town.”

A voice jolted Wang Qiang awake. He opened his eyes and looked out the window. Golden fields stretched endlessly beside the road, with rows of tile-roofed houses lining the north-south path. He was home.

Standing up hurriedly, he got off the bus.

He breathed deeply, savoring the fresh countryside air. Looking around, he felt an overwhelming peace that only rural scenery could bring.

Pulling his suitcase, he headed north.

After a few steps, he saw a few ducks happily playing on the clear river water ahead. They dipped their heads into the water searching for food, flapping their wings and quacking joyfully. Even someone washing clothes by the riverbank didn’t disturb their merriment.

The sunlight flickered on the shimmering water, stirred by a gentle breeze, creating ripples across the surface.

How nostalgic the rural life was.

Though only gone for fifteen days, Wang Qiang felt as if a century had passed. Perhaps the fresh scenery and the awakening spirit invigorated him suddenly.

He was drawing closer to home.

Crossing an old weathered stone bridge, familiar village faces gradually appeared.

At the village entrance, the old bachelor spotted Wang Qiang and exclaimed, “Qiangzi?”

Wang Qiang smiled warmly. “Uncle Miao.” From his watch pocket, he pulled out a Red Pagoda Mountain cigarette and handed it over.

The old bachelor accepted it with a grin. “Red Pagoda Mountain, huh? You must have made it big out there. I heard you bought new clothes for your grandparents. Your grandma’s been bragging all over the village, saying her second grandson has made it.”

Because he used postal EMS, the delivery was much faster than ordinary express. EMS is an express parcel service. Shanghai was only four hours away from Haitong, including ferry time. Wang Qiang estimated the package would reach home in two days.

He understood his grandmother’s nature well—she prized face above all. No matter how successful her son or grandson was, she would proudly boast to the villagers. He remembered when he got into college; Grandma nearly went door-to-door to tell everyone.

After chatting briefly with the old bachelor, Wang Qiang continued toward home.

It was noon, and most villagers were busy preparing lunch; the streets were sparse.

Near home, Chen Maimai sat at the doorstep eating her meal. Seeing Wang Qiang from afar, she called out, “Qiangzi, you’re back?”

“Just got back. Maimai, eating lunch?” Wang Qiang replied.

“I heard from your mom you went to Shanghai. How’s the city?” Chen Maimai walked over, shaking her head. “Look at your clothes—all fancy! Must have cost at least a hundred yuan.” She had never left Haitong County and had only a vague idea of big cities.

Not just her, many older villagers, especially middle-aged and elderly women, had never left. They stayed home raising children and tending the fields, dedicating their lives entirely to family.

“No, not that expensive,” Wang Qiang said with a smile.

“I heard from your mom you made quite a bit of money out there,” Chen Maimai said enviously. “Your brother Jianming just got into college. He doesn’t know when he’ll earn money yet.”

Jianming, her son, was several years older than Wang Qiang, so she always called Wang Qiang “brother.”

Wang Qiang knew his mother felt proud and boasted a little. Such scenes were common in the countryside. But if someone asked his mother to lend money, she would never part with a cent. As mentioned earlier, no matter how much boasting, real money was kept hidden—for fear of thieves or greedy relatives who might come borrowing endlessly.

If it was an emergency, she would lend. But some relatives, like Wang Qiang’s no-good cousin, never repaid borrowed money. As the saying on the internet went, “If you borrow by your own skill, why repay?”

People who refused to lend faced gossip. Those who lent often lost the money. So it was best to keep wealth concealed.

...

The door stood open.

The scent of burning firewood wafted through the air.

Stepping inside the quiet house, Wang Qiang spotted his mother sitting by the stove, tending the fire.

In that moment, a long-missed warmth surged from his heart. His mother looked thinner than before. Suddenly, the words he had wanted to say all came to a halt, replaced by a flood of longing that filled the entire room. At last, he softly called out, “Mom, I’m home.”

“Qiangzi!” His mother looked up sharply, joy flooding her face. She stood quickly, her eyes moist. “It’s good you’re safe. So good you’re back.” Her son had been away for half a month after seventeen years of never leaving her side. As a mother, Lin Cheng had been anxious. Seeing him safe and sound overwhelmed her with emotion.

Wang Qiang was moved too, but he was not good at expressing feelings. He said simply, “Let me help with the fire.”

His mother wiped her eyes. “You’re dressed so nicely. Don’t dirty your clothes. Sit down, I’ll handle the fire.”

Wang Qiang joked, “Then I’ll go change into old clothes.”

His mother, a little sad, chuckled. “I’ve only heard of wearing new clothes for visiting relatives, never changing just to stoke the fire.”

In the end, she gave in and let him tend the fire.

Rolling up his sleeves, Wang Qiang sat behind the earthen stove to feed the firewood, his mood settling. “How’s everything at home?”

“Okay,” his mother rambled. “Recently, we haven’t caught any fish from the river, so I stopped trying. It just so happens Junjun started school, so I told Lu Wei not to come anymore.” She laughed. “Isn’t it strange? When you were here, you caught a full cage every time. Now I can’t get any at all.”

“Did you put fish feed in the water?” Wang Qiang asked.

His mother paused, then laughed. “How would I know about those things?”

They chatted casually. From her words, Wang Qiang sensed how fond she was of Lu Junjun, probably because the girl was sweet-talking. Of course, she praised Lu Wei too, saying he was honest and dependable.

He listened quietly, smiling occasionally. Previously, he had promised Lu Wei one hundred and fifty yuan, but had only given seventy-five so far. The rest he planned to deliver tonight. A man must keep his word, especially since Lu Wei had helped a lot.

Suddenly, his mother said, “School starts tomorrow. Maybe you should get ready to go back?”

Wang Qiang was taken aback. “Didn’t I tell you I’m not going back to school?”

His mother feigned surprise and said earnestly, “You told me you’d earn ten thousand yuan in half a month and wouldn’t go back. If you didn’t make it, of course you’d have to go.”

From the moment she agreed, she never truly believed he could make ten thousand yuan in half a month. She agreed only to let him give up hope.

His father worked hard all year, barely earning over three thousand yuan doing manual labor. Not even his mother believed a seventeen-year-old boy could earn ten thousand yuan in such a short time. No one in the village would believe it either.

So now she was laying it out plainly: it was time to go back to school.

But Wang Qiang’s next words stunned her.

“Who said I didn’t earn it?” he said with a smile, pointing to the suitcase. “The money’s inside, in a plastic bag. Count it yourself.”

His mother, half skeptical, opened the suitcase and found the plastic bag. As soon as she lifted one corner, a pile of blue hundred-yuan bills came into view. She quickly shut it again, hurried to the door, closed and latched it, then returned shaking slightly to the table.

Her hands trembled as she counted.

“One... five... seventeen...”

The more she counted, the redder her face grew, as if intoxicated. Her voice trembled by the end. After a long time, she finished. Twelve thousand eight hundred yuan, not a cent more or less.

She stared at her son in amazement. “You really earned this?”

Wang Qiang nodded calmly. “Mom, now I don’t have to go back to school, right?”

His mother fell silent.

She didn’t know what else to say.

When Wang Qiang first proposed earning ten thousand yuan in half a month, she had played a little trick, agreeing only to make him give up. She never imagined he could succeed. But now, with one hundred twenty-eight crisp bills spread before her, the fact was undeniable.

He left with two thousand eight hundred yuan.

He returned with twelve thousand eight hundred.

He also bought clothes for her and the elders, plus covered his own expenses. That meant he earned far more than she imagined. Lin Cheng was at a loss for words, overwhelmed by the complexity of her feelings.

She said nothing. Wang Qiang waited patiently.

After a long moment, she sighed deeply.

Wang Qiang felt a little conflicted. His mother still hadn’t fully responded. What if she insisted he return to school?

“You really have grown up,” she finally said, her eyes filled with both relief and an indescribable sadness. She smiled wryly. “If you don’t want to go, then don’t. But don’t forget, you still have to take your exams. If you don’t do well, you’ll have to go back.”

She spoke earnestly, “School isn’t just about finding a good job and making money. It’s about learning more. Business can lose money, but knowledge in your head means you’ll never go hungry. Do you understand what I mean?”

Having studied for a total of seventeen years, including kindergarten, Wang Qiang surely had knowledge stored away. Though some might fade after entering society, with review, it could be recalled. Frankly, school offered little new now, and high school was unnecessary.

As for university, Wang Qiang believed a diploma was still important. Even as a businessman, a higher education made people look at you differently. Without education, a businessman might be seen as a nouveau riche, but with schooling, he’d earn respect—as a scholar merchant.

Since ancient times, China has valued governance through culture. People with and without education are viewed distinctly, and sometimes a single diploma can make all the difference.

He had already planned his future: spend three years earning money while reviewing forgotten knowledge, then enter a good university. College life was more relaxed and wouldn’t interfere with his work much. This was the only way to have both.

No matter what—

His mother’s agreement to let him skip school was enough.

After half a month of effort, Wang Qiang finally had a satisfying answer. He knew that even if he went to university later, he was already ahead of his peers. Jokingly, if he did well, his classmates might one day become his employees.

Wang Qiang firmly believed he would only improve from here.

Though he currently had just over ten thousand yuan in assets and debts to repay, it was a promising start.

He understood the road ahead was long and that he was only just beginning. Keeping a calm mind, he would continue working hard, not wasting this golden time for growth.