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    Chapter 80

    Ever since Yuanbao’s sudden disappearance last time, Madam Li had watched him as carefully as her own eyeballs, terrified her precious grandson might have another accident; she even planned to hire two attendants to follow and watch him at all times.

    Wang Ying was originally opposed, but he couldn’t overrule the old lady. In a traditional large household, customs run deep; such mindsets don’t shift overnight. In the end, he yielded.

    The attendants had to be known quantities—neither too old nor too young—and able to care for Yuanbao and play with him.

    As it happened, there were many children on the manor who fit the criteria. Madam Li called for Chen Xi to spread the word: any family struggling to feed a child—boy, girl, or ge’er—could send them to help care for the young master.

    If someone else were recruiting, no one from the manor would willingly send children; no one could be sure if the masters were kind or cruel, or whether the child would suffer. But the household head was different—benevolent. Even the steward was willing to send his own son to serve; why wouldn’t others?

    No sooner had the notice gone out than families arrived with their children for selection.

    At dawn, when the sky was just gray, a dozen people stood outside the annex gate: several adults and seven or eight children—all come to apply.

    “Oh ho, Second Sister-in-law Li also came. You only have that one precious boy and you’d send him here?”

    “What’s there to be stingy about? It’s not like I won’t see him again if he’s a servant. Unlike your two blockheads—who says the master would even take them?”

    “What are you saying!”

    “Saying your kid drips snot two feet long—don’t like it?”

    “Shut your filthy mouth!”

    Seeing the two women squaring off, someone behind them coughed. “Enough. If you want to fight, take it home. Don’t ruin our chances of being picked.”

    They stopped bickering, rolled their eyes, spat in the dust, and stood aside with folded arms.

    Soon, an elderly woman arrived, leading a dark, skinny boy by the hand.

    People drew back immediately. “Old Yang Granny, why’d you bring him?”

    The old woman clutched the child’s hand. “The mistress didn’t specify conditions. Why shouldn’t Mutou come?”

    The same woman from before curled her lip. “They’re hiring attendants to care for the young master. Surely the child must be whole and neat. He’s jinxed—parents and grandparents all dead—too inauspicious. Take him away!”

    The old woman said nothing and took the child to stand in a corner. She was not his blood grandmother, only an old neighbor.

    The child had suffered bitterly. Years ago, his mother died in childbirth. As his father and grandfather climbed the mountain to bury her, they fell from the cliff and died too, leaving only the boy with his grandmother.

    Two years ago, the grandmother also died of illness. At only six, Mutou lived alone.

    He was too young to farm; the family plot had been seized. He survived by gleaning leftover ears of grain at harvest and by frequent bullying from other village children.

    Granny Yang couldn’t bear it; she often brought him food. Somehow, starving one day and half-full the next, he survived.

    Knowing she couldn’t raise the child, but unable to watch him starve, she brought him upon hearing the recruitment—better to be a lowly servant and have two meals a day.

    Around the mao hour (roughly 5–7 a.m.), Chen Bo opened the main gate and was startled by the crowd.

    “What’s everyone doing here?”

    Chen Xi cupped his hands. “Brother Chen, the old lady asked me to find two children. I told the villagers, and everyone wanted to send theirs. I didn’t know how to choose, so I brought them all for the old lady to pick.”

    “Wait here. I’ll inform them.”

    Soon, Wang Ying came out with him. He glanced over the children. “If you have only one child, take them home. The old lady requires signed indenture contracts—servants must remain in the Chen household for life.”

    At that, several women lost their nerve and pulled their children backward.

    Those behind hurried forward with their own. “Master, how about my Qiuhua? She can do anything—wash, cook, anything!”

    A girl of sixteen or seventeen was pushed ahead. “Kneel and greet the master.”

    The girl knelt shyly. “Greetings, Master.”

    The others followed suit and knelt to kowtow.

    Wang Ying’s head started to ache. Sixteen or seventeen meant prime marriage age—taking them in would only be trouble; he couldn’t keep someone from marrying. He decided to pick young ones.

    He pointed at a neat-looking child about the right age. “You—come with me. The rest can go home.”

    The chosen one lit up with joy; the unchosen drooped and drifted away.

    As Wang Ying led the child inside, an elderly voice called from behind, “Master, please, take this one too.”

    Granny Li pulled Mutou down to kneel and kowtow; the straightforward boy knocked his head hard on the ground, turning his forehead red.

    “Please rise, elder—no need to kneel
,” Wang Ying began, then listened as she haltingly explained. “He’s a pitiful one—parents and grandparents all gone. No relatives will take him. I’m old and poor—can’t feed him
”

    “How old are you? What’s your name?”

    “My name is Mutou (Wood)
,” the boy replied clearly, bright-eyed and properly featured, only his clothes filthy and ragged, hair matted—making him look slovenly.

    “Alright—come along with us.”

    Granny Li bowed in thanks again and hurried him along.

    They passed through the covered walkway to the rear courtyard. Madam Li was feeding Yuanbao fruit purĂ©e—peeled apples drizzled with honey, steamed till soft, then spooned little by little.

    Sour-sweet and appetite-whetting, Yuanbao loved it.

    When Wang Ying arrived with the children, Yuanbao forgot eating and stared at the group, eyes wide with curiosity.

    “Mother, these are the children Uncle Chen helped find. I chose a few young ones—see which you like for keeping two.”

    Madam Li dabbed Yuanbao’s mouth clean and studied them.

    There were five children in total—three boys, one ge’er, and one girl—each around seven or eight. Madam Li nodded at the tallest boy. “What is your name?”

    The child knelt properly. “Greetings, Old Madam. I am Chen Chunsheng, youngest son of Chen Shugen.”

    Chen Shugen was Chen Xi’s nephew—some relation.

    “You stay. The others—”

    Before she could finish, Wang Ying drew Mutou forward. “I’ll choose one: this child is called Mutou. He seems suitable—let him be Yuanbao’s playmate.”

    Madam Li’s brow creased. The child was too shabby; she didn’t like it. But since her son-in-law favored him, she let it pass.

    The others were not sent away empty-handed. Wang Ying gave each three strings of cash. “Take it and buy sweets.”

    The three left clutching their coins. Only Chunsheng and Mutou remained.

    “Take the two to wash up first,” Madam Li said, especially wary of Mutou—dirty head to toe—lest he pass something on to her grandson.

    Both being boys, Wang Ying sent Chen Bo to the servants’ bathing room to see to them.

    Finding both had lice, Chen Bo decided to shave their heads—two shiny little monks.

    Bathed and dressed in clean clothes, they were led back to the courtyard, and at last Mutou’s features were clear.

    He wasn’t ugly—thick brows, bright eyes, and a dimple when he smiled. He was simply too thin, his head seeming large atop a stick-like body.

    Madam Li called them over and laid down the rules.

    “Your job is to watch the young master. Don’t let him fall, bump, scrape, or trip. When he begins lessons, you’ll serve him at study. Never teach him mischief! If anything happens to Yuanbao, I will not forgive you!”

    The two boys dropped to their knees. “We will serve the young master well!”

    After the stern warning, she gave them a sweet date. “Of course, you won’t work for nothing. Food, clothing, and lodging are all provided, and you’ll get a hundred cash a month in pocket money. Do well and there’ll be rewards. Work hard.”

    “Yes!”

    They had little concept of money, but hearing “room and board,” Mutou’s face relaxed. A hungry child will do anything for a steady meal.

    The poor grow up fast. In Wang Ying’s former world, children this age were just entering primary school—some needed teachers to wipe their bottoms. These two already moved like little adults.

    Mutou, especially, was quick and keen-eyed.

    As soon as the old lady finished peeling apples, before orders were given, he whisked the peels away to toss them out. If Yuanbao wanted to see the dog, he carried him to the front yard; if the cat, he stood between child and animal, shielding him from scratches—every inch the diligent little attendant.

    Chunsheng wasn’t as capable, but he had a warm disposition—always smiling and often coaxing laughs from Yuanbao. The three got on harmoniously.

    With little playmates, Yuanbao’s temperament brightened; Madam Li no longer had to keep unblinking watch, sparing her nerves.

    A few days later, Chen Qingyan left a note in the experimental field saying they had reached Jizhou city and that he wanted to see his son that night.

    That evening, Wang Ying found a pretext to carry Yuanbao into his own room and brought him again into the field.

    Before entering, Wang Ying worried the field might reject the boy. But as soon as he prepared to open it, Yuanbao toddled in by himself—he seemed not to need any conscious “opening” at all.

    Chen Qingyan hadn’t arrived yet, so Wang Ying led the boy to pick grapes. When the autumn grapes had ripened, Wang Ying had reset the climate, harvested afresh, and accelerated growth; they were just ripe now.

    The grapes were a bit tart. Yuanbao spat his tongue after one or two, his little face scrunched like a bun.

    Wang Ying couldn’t help laughing. If only there were a camera—he’d have taken a photo as a keepsake for him to admire when grown.

    As they ate, Chen Qingyan came in. “What are you two laughing at?”

    “Daddy!” Yuanbao squealed and ran over.

    Qingyan had drunk a little wine; his cheeks were flushed. He hoisted the boy onto his shoulder in one smooth motion.

    “Careful—don’t drop him.”

    “He’s heavier again.”

    “He’s chubbier,” Wang Ying said. “A few days ago, Mother found him two playmates. He runs around outdoors every day, and after all that, he eats more. His face is even tanned.”

    They sat together and exchanged updates from the past few days. Yuanbao half-understood, and soon fell asleep.

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