Chapter 103: A Timely Help in the Snow

The countryside night was engulfed in darkness, with no stars visible in the sky.

Passing by the brightly lit building windows, the shadowy houses loomed heavily, as if about to collapse. The dim yellow light cast upon the gravel road flickered faintly like the dying groans of an old man, yet it burned painfully in Lu Wei’s eyes. Poverty was more terrifying than darkness itself, and he felt ensnared by this dreadful shroud, as if it could swallow him whole at any moment.

His day of working odd jobs had finally come to an end.

Dragging his weary body to his doorstep, Lu Wei’s tangled hair had long gone uncut. His sallow, grimy face was streaked with cement dust. He wore a tattered nylon shirt, its color faded beyond recognition, and each slight movement sent a few specks of dust fluttering into the cold northern wind. His worn liberation shoes were punctured, with his big toe threatening to break free. The biting night air seemed to recount his hardships.

He pulled out his key to open the door, but suddenly, with a start, he noticed the lock was missing—vanished without a trace.

A chill ran through him. Could it be burglars? Though the only valuable item in his home was a large iron pot, he hurriedly pushed open the door, anxious that the pot, essential for cooking, might have been stolen.

The room was pitch black.

Suddenly, a clear, bitter-sweet female voice broke the silence, “Brother.”

“Junjun!?” Lu Wei stood at the threshold, uncertain. He strained his eyes into the darkness and barely made out a frail figure sitting beside the four-legged table missing a corner from his memories.

A confirming murmur came from within: “Mm.”

Lu Wei didn’t know how his sister had suddenly returned from school. He fumbled in the dark, finally finding the kerosene lamp under the table—the one they usually hesitated to light—and then a box of matches near the stove.

With a sharp “sizzle” and the pungent smell of sulfur, the flame caught on the wooden stick. Carefully, he cupped the flickering flame with his left hand and brought it to the lamp’s already blackened wick.

It lit.

Relieved, Lu Wei covered the glass chimney, grateful not to have wasted another match.

The room brightened abruptly—or rather, the circle around the damaged four-legged table glowed.

Only then did he turn to his sister sitting on a stool. Seeing her was a shock—her bowed face was streaked with tears, swollen eyes red from crying. As the most precious little sister to Lu Wei, anger inexplicably surged within him. Clenching his knuckles until they cracked, he growled, “Did someone bully you at school? Who was it? I’ll go beat them up!”

Lu Junjun scrambled to wipe her tears with her patched sleeves, choking out, “No, no one bullied me.”

“Then why did you come back all of a sudden? And why are you crying like this?” Lu Wei’s voice softened with concern.

Trying to control her emotions, Junjun whispered, “I don’t want to go to school anymore.”

Hearing this, Lu Wei paused, then a wave of fury surged up. For the first time, he shouted at his sister, “If you don’t go to school, what are you going to do? Farm? Huh?”

Junjun burst into sobs again, covering her face with her hands, “Fine, farm then, I don’t care... I’m just not going to school anymore.”

What had happened?

Had she really been bullied at school?

Seeing his sister’s tears flowing unabated, Lu Wei’s anger melted into tenderness. He knelt beside her, comforting, “If there’s anything wrong, you can tell me. I’ll fix it for you. Don’t just say you won’t go to school, okay?”

But she just kept crying.

After a long while, from her broken words, Lu Wei finally understood. The school demanded payment the next day for class fees, miscellaneous fees, and assignment fees. But she only had about thirty yuan in pocket money, and if she paid, she wouldn’t even have enough left to eat.

Hearing this, Lu Wei fell silent. The total fees weren’t much—just thirty yuan—but after checking, he only had six yuan left from his day’s labor. Despair engulfed him.

A single penny can bring down a hero.

At that moment, he truly grasped the weight of those words.

Inside the thatched cottage, Junjun had stopped crying, but the siblings sat in silence, the quiet atmosphere slowly swallowed by the night.

Suddenly, the sound of a bicycle approaching outside broke the stillness.

Then came a voice like a heavenly savior’s, “Lu Wei, are you home?”

…

Half an hour earlier.

Wang Qiang had just finished lunch and was helping his mother wash dishes. The situation of several elderly family members, which prevented his mother from leaving their hometown, troubled him somewhat.

Yet, from the start, Wang Qiang was resolved to provide his parents a better life, and he hadn’t given up on finding ways to do so.

Having a dutiful mother caring for the elders was a blessing.

He only feared those who saw the elderly as burdens—that was a flawed mindset. Without the elders, there would be no parents; without parents, no self.

Their nurturing kindness was unforgettable.

“Forget it,” he thought. “I’ll go to Shanghai tomorrow afternoon. First, earn the money, then figure out how to care for my mother later.”

While washing dishes, he chatted casually with his mother.

“When does Lu Wei usually get home?”

“Around seven, I think.”

“Okay, I’ll come by at 6:50 then.”

“Hey, about those siblings—Lu Wei’s quite something. Ever since you entrusted him to me, he comes early morning to help me with the fish traps and again in the afternoon to take them down. Once, when I was busy in the vegetable patch, he and Junjun came to help, carrying manure and watering. I don’t know what’s gotten into them.”

Wang Qiang paused, his dishwashing slowing. Though he paid Lu Wei ten yuan a day for helping his mother with the fish traps, he hadn’t expected the siblings to assist in the vegetable garden as well, especially with such grueling work like carrying and watering manure.

Those who hadn’t lived in the countryside wouldn’t understand—balancing two large wooden buckets on a pole easily weighed over a hundred jin (about 50 kg), and watering manure was filthy work, often splashing waste onto pants and shoes.

Nowadays, even many young people wouldn’t want to do it. Most were only children, still cherished by their families despite hardships.

Yet these siblings voluntarily helped with such dirty, exhausting chores?

Wang Qiang stood by the stove, moved.

His mother sighed. “I heard not long ago that Junjun didn’t have enough money for registration fees. I don’t know if they managed to gather it. Lu Wei has been working day and night for her. Junjun said once he got home after midnight and then got up at 5:30 in the morning to leave again. Without parents, life is so hard. Their third uncle not only refuses to help but wants to seize their land. How can they survive like this?”

Wang Qiang frowned. “Did they raise enough for the tuition?”

“I don’t know, there’s little I can do. Why should I interfere?” his mother replied.

Wang Qiang finished washing the dishes and poured out the dirty water.

Back inside, he counted seventy-five yuan, ready to leave, but then, almost instinctively, he pocketed an extra three hundred yuan.

Seeing the money, his mother asked, “Why are you taking so much?”

Wang Qiang smiled, “You asked if my gaming room needed help, right? It does—just one person. I want to hire Lu Wei to work for me. He and Junjun are struggling so much. If they agree to come, I’ll advance them a month’s wages to help them get through this tough time.”

Indeed, his gaming room was short-staffed. He couldn’t expect Old Zhu and his son to watch the place all day while neglecting their own affairs. Wang Qiang was the big boss, after all. Why should others work for less while he took all the gains? It didn’t make sense.

Originally, he had planned for his mother to go to Shanghai, but family circumstances prevented her from leaving, so hiring someone to manage the gaming room was necessary.

One thing was certain: he couldn’t spend all day there himself.

“You’re really becoming a boss now,” his mother teased.

Wang Qiang laughed, “Just hiring someone—that doesn’t make me a real boss.”

His mother chuckled, “How not? Hire one person today, and you’re a small boss. Hire ten or twenty in the future, you’ll be a big boss. You have to think positively.”

That made sense.

His business would grow.

Besides, paying ten yuan a day to watch the gaming room wasn’t expensive. It opened at eight in the morning and closed at seven at night, with cleaning duties and no days off. In a big city like Shanghai, even a cleaning lady might cost more.

When he first suggested sending his mother to Shanghai, Wang Qiang had worried about the workload and thought of hiring someone to share shifts with her. Now, he’d simply hire one person to cover the entire shift.

The key was whether Lu Wei would agree.

He planned carefully: if Lu Wei accepted and worked diligently, his wages could be increased later. Sympathy was one thing; work was another. Money didn’t grow on trees. He couldn’t just hire someone to serve and pay them for doing nothing.

…

Inside the thatched cottage.

Seeing Wang Qiang rush in from outside, Lu Junjun nervously wiped her face with both hands.

Lu Wei quickly moved a bench for him to sit and asked, “Why are you coming here so late?”

“I came to repay a debt,” Wang Qiang said with a warm smile, emphasizing the words “repay a debt.”

Lu Wei and his sister exchanged a glance and forced a bitter smile. “Actually, I didn’t help Aunt Cheng for many days. The seventy-five yuan you gave me before was already enough.”

Wang Qiang said nothing and placed the seventy-five yuan on the table solemnly. “Since I promised you one hundred and fifty, I must keep my word. So I brought the money to you today.”

Lu Wei wanted to refuse politely, feeling undeserving since he hadn’t helped much. It felt humiliating, like a handout he didn’t want to accept. But strangely, several times, words caught in his throat.

Perhaps it was because of poverty.

Thinking of his sister waiting to pay school fees, he lacked the courage to reject the seventy-five yuan left on the table.

Indeed, Lu Wei’s pride told him this was charity and that he should return the money. Yet, he needed it, and he understood Wang Qiang’s kindness—this was timely aid.

Many offer help when things are already good.

But how many come with help in the coldest winter?

Especially since this timely savior was just a year younger than him, the same age as his sister. Lu Wei felt an urge to cry. There were still good people in this world. From the bottom of his heart, he was grateful to Wang Qiang.