Li Bowen had chosen a good location for this farmhouse, not far from the village, right along one of the most popular hiking routes. A large parking area had been cleared. Hiking groups who rented cars would park here, and after coming down the mountain, they’d basically all eat here. Add in people driving over for vacations, picking vegetables, fishing…
Most of the infrastructure was already done, and part of the old houses had been renovated.
Uncle Li telling Li Bowen to shut it down, not only did Li Bowen feel it was a pity, even Sun Wenqu thought it was a shame.
But going to Uncle Li to speak on Li Bowen’s behalf, Sun Wenqu would never do that. He knew Li Bowen too well. Even if he wasn’t the one behind messing with Li Bowen, Li Bowen would still pin it on him, let alone the fact that Li Bowen clearly knew it was him. Even if he went to say good things, he wouldn’t get any benefit.
And Li Bowen’s personality, never appreciating kindness, never knowing when to stop, Sun Wenqu knew that too.
He took out his phone and called Ma Liang: “Have you seen Li Bowen’s farmhouse?”
“No,” Ma Liang said. “I-I’ll go see it after it clo-closes down.”
“Uncle Li’s making him shut it down. Not sure if he really will,” Sun Wenqu said. “Ask Luo Peng and the others about it. If he shuts it down, he’ll definitely try to transfer it to them first. If he does, help me take it over, but don’t let him know it’s me. Find someone they don’t know to negotiate.”
“Hmm?” Ma Liang was confused.
“That kind of pretentious pottery farmhouse, have you thought about it?” Sun Wenqu stood by the window. “I looked around, if we take this place, we can make something out of it.”
“You want to run a fa-farmhouse? And po-pottery?” Ma Liang didn’t quite understand.
“Don’t think of it as a farmhouse. If it’s called a pottery farm, doesn’t that feel different?” Sun Wenqu smiled. “Mountains and water, pottery and people, experience the art closest to nature, find the touch that reaches the heart… I’m too talented, ad slogans just come out of my mouth.”
“Ri-right,” Ma Liang laughed for a while. “Do you even ha-have money?”
“No,” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue. “But I have a dad.”
Ma Liang laughed. “Going to ask the old ma-master for mo-money?”
“Asking for money sounds too low-class. Investment,” Sun Wenqu said. “I’ll have him invest.”
“You go talk to him about in-investment, will he agree?” Ma Liang sounded unsure. “He might think you’re not re-reliable.”
“Mm, if I go, it probably won’t go well, he’ll mock me and it might turn into an argument,” Sun Wenqu said. “So I’m planning to have Fang Chi go talk to him.”
“Wha– what?” Ma Liang was stunned.
“I realized Fang Chi really suits my dad’s temperament,” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue. “That kind of dumbfounded, goofy way he is, my dad really likes it. If I went to talk to him, my dad would probably make me write a hundred-page feasibility report. If Fang Chi goes, he might just ask a few questions.”
“My big nephew really is pretty, pretty steady.” Ma Liang said.
“Mm. Anyway, help me keep an eye on things.” Sun Wenqu said.
After finishing the call with Ma Liang, he went downstairs again and wandered around the yard in a big circle. When he went back inside, he chatted with the two workers for a while longer. Only after the workers left did he finally go upstairs and lie down in the room.
He was very sleepy and tired. The moment he lay down and closed his eyes, before he even had time to let his thoughts wander all over the place, he fell asleep.
He slept until Fang Chi called him before unwillingly opening his eyes.
He picked up his phone and checked the time first, discovering it was already five o’clock. He really had slept a long time.
“Awake?” Fang Chi asked.
“Mm,” Sun Wenqu rolled over and buried one eye into the pillow. “If you hadn’t called, I still wouldn’t be awake.”
“I just sent you a message. You didn’t reply, so I figured you were still sleeping,” Fang Chi laughed. “I’m waiting for Xiao Yiming at the intersection right now. Get up. I haven’t even said you’re here yet, and Grandpa already said you should come eat at the house.”
“Hm?” Sun Wenqu froze. “How did he know?”
“He went to the little shop to buy liquor and saw your car,” Fang Chi’s voice sounded relaxed. “Xiao Yiming and them will be here soon. I’ll pick them up and bring them to the farmhouse to find you first.”
“Okay.” Sun Wenqu sat up.
Just as Xiao Yiming and Cheng Mo got off the shuttle bus, it started snowing.
Xiaozi still recognized Xiao Yiming and happily ran over wagging it’s tail at him.
“Hey, good girl,” Xiao Yiming rubbed her face. “Long time no see.”
“What’s her name?” Cheng Mo asked.
“Xiaozi,” Fang Chi said.
“A female dog named Xiaozi?” Cheng Mo froze. “Does your family also have a male dog called Yatou… Hello Xiaozi, my name’s Cheng Mo, I’m Brother Xiao’s boyfriend.”
Fang Chi glanced at Xiao Yiming. Xiao Yiming sighed. “He’s been introducing himself like that for a long time already. I’m too lazy to argue with him anymore.”
Fang Chi laughed. “The highest realm of shamelessness.”
“It’s only a prophecy.” Cheng Mo smiled.
When the group arrived at the farmhouse, Sun Wenqu was downstairs holding a kettle and boiling water.
“Your rooms are upstairs,” he pointed upward. “The two rooms in the middle of the hallway. I’m staying in the left one, you two take the right one.”
“Okay, thank you, brother.” Cheng Mo nodded and ran upstairs in a few quick steps.
Xiao Yiming stood still and quietly asked, “Uncle Sun, are you saying there are only two rooms total?”
“Mm.” Sun Wenqu looked at him, then after a moment lowered his voice too. “You two still aren’t at the stage where you need to share a room?”
“Yeah.” Xiao Yiming answered.
Sun Wenqu laughed. “Your progress bar is moving way too slowly. I thought young people nowadays would zoom right past that stage.”
“The ambiguous stage is more fun.” Xiao Yiming said.
Fang Chi immediately burst out laughing. “You just think chestnuts taste better before they ripen.”
They didn’t discuss how to arrange the rooms. Fang Chi urged everyone to hurry back home for dinner first.
When Sun Wenqu walked out of the yard, he opened the car door first. “I’m grabbing something.”
“What?” Fang Chi asked.
“A gift.” Sun Wenqu pulled a large bag out of a cardboard box in the back seat.
“A gift? You even brought gifts?” Fang Chi froze.
“Obviously.” Sun Wenqu handed him the bag. “I prepared them ages ago, just in case we ended up meeting. I couldn’t exactly show up empty-handed.”
“Didn’t you already give Grandpa western ginseng before?” Fang Chi asked.
“Fang Chi, sometimes you’re really thoughtful, and sometimes you’re dumb as h*ll,” Sun Wenqu looked at him. “Can one gift count twice? Besides, is today’s meeting an ordinary meeting?”
“…Oh!” Fang Chi responded. After a few seconds of silence, he grinned foolishly. “It’s different, it’s different, huh?”
“Couldn’t your IQ at least distribute itself more evenly?” Sun Wenqu clicked his tongue.
Fang Chi didn’t say anything, just kept grinning.
Sun Wenqu rarely got nervous. Maybe because he was too lazy, very few people or things could make him nervous.
But while walking from the farmhouse toward Fang Chi’s house, he suddenly felt a little nervous.
Xiaozi trotted lightly ahead in little bouncing steps. Xiao Yiming and Cheng Mo walked behind him and Fang Chi, quietly chatting as they went.
Fang Chi hadn’t spoken the entire way. No, his mouth was open, but he wasn’t talking. He was just smiling.
“Does your village have a pharmacy?” Sun Wenqu glanced at him.
“There’s a clinic,” Fang Chi grinned. “But they don’t have medicine that can cure me, so give up.”
Before they even reached Fang Chi’s house, Sun Wenqu saw smoke rising from the courtyard. Grandpa was probably lighting the stove.
“That courtyard with the smoke is your house, right?” Cheng Mo asked from behind.
“Yeah. We’re having hotpot tonight, charcoal fire. It feels warmer that way,” Fang Chi nodded.
“I like that,” Cheng Mo sounded interested. “Food cooked over wood fire is delicious too. Does your family cook with wood fire?”
“No,” Fang Chi said. “But when city people like you come to eat, my grandpa will definitely make rice in the big wood-fired pot.”
“That’s awesome.” Cheng Mo rubbed his hands together.
When they reached the courtyard gate, Fang Chi shouted, “Grandpa! Everyone’s here!”
“Hey, hey,” Grandpa answered from inside the yard. “Come in quick.”
Fang Chi entered first, with Cheng Mo and Xiao Yiming following behind. Sun Wenqu paused a moment and deliberately fell to the back.
Fresh Spring Festival couplets were pasted on both sides of the gate, layered over the one he had written last year, but there were traces showing they had been torn off and pasted back on. He reached out and touched them, discovering the paper underneath had been torn too.
Sun Wenqu sighed softly. Grandma must’ve torn them down after learning about everything, then later someone must’ve pasted them back up.
“Cold, right?” Grandpa greeted them in the yard. “Go inside and sit.”
Sun Wenqu walked into the courtyard. Grandpa turned and saw him, smiling as he said, “Shuiqu’s here.”
“Grandpa,” Sun Wenqu smiled, then walked a few steps toward the kitchen. “Happy New Year, Grandma.”
“Ah, good, Shuiqu’s here,” Grandma came out of the kitchen and looked him up and down. “You look thinner?”
“I’ll gain it back tonight.” Sun Wenqu smiled.
Fang Chi’s parents were both inside the house. When Sun Wenqu entered, the two of them, who had been sitting, immediately stood up together. Sun Wenqu almost wanted to bow ninety degrees.
Although it wasn’t a full ninety degrees, he really had bent over intending to bow, only to have Fang Chi’s father grab his arm. “Don’t be so polite. Sit.”
“I smell sweet potatoes. Roasted ones,” Cheng Mo suddenly said from the side.
“The smell’s drifting over from the backyard,” Xiao Yiming looked at Fang Chi. “Your family roasting them?”
“What a nose,” Fang Chi’s mother laughed. “You can even tell front yard from backyard?”
“Because I didn’t smell it when we entered through the front.” Xiao Yiming smiled.
“Go dig them out yourselves.” Fang Chi’s father said.
The group immediately headed for the backyard. Sun Wenqu remained seated, only softly saying after a moment, “Uncle, Auntie, during New Year’s and all, making you all…”
“Wenqu,” Fang Chi’s mother poured him a cup of hot tea and set it before him, “let’s not talk about that anymore. Grandpa, Grandma, and us, we’ve already come to a unanimous decision. So then this matter isn’t a problem anymore.”
“Mm.” Sun Wenqu nodded and took a sip of tea.
“Wenqu,” Fang Chi’s father looked at him, “Fang Chi’s still young. Although we’ve always felt he has his own opinions and is dependable, we still hope you can… you’re older than him…”
“Please don’t worry.” Sun Wenqu said.
“At ease,” Fang Chi’s father smiled. “I’m at ease.”
When Fang Chi first met Cheng Mo, he thought the guy seemed pretty cool, if a little crazy. But in a situation like today, when everyone carried a subtle awkwardness, Cheng Mo really was exactly what he claimed, someone who could create atmosphere.
Whether it was Grandpa and Grandma or Dad and Mom, he could find topics to chat about endlessly. Before dinner had even started, he’d already gotten a bottle of homemade liquor from Fang Chi’s dad and started drinking.
As the aroma of dishes drifting from the kitchen grew stronger and stronger, the atmosphere in the room was finally pulled back by Cheng Mo into a lively, cheerful New Year mood.
“This lamb looks amazing.” Sun Wenqu couldn’t help praising the huge platter of lamb brought into the room.
“Well of course,” Grandma said proudly. “Bought right here in the village. Forget you city people, even farmhouse restaurants might not get to eat meat like this. We keep this for ourselves.”
Sun Wenqu suddenly remembered the line Fang Chi had used before to choke Sun Yao speechless, and immediately burst out laughing, leaning against the chair and laughing for a long time.
“Did you drink with them too?” Grandma asked him.
“No,” Sun Wenqu laughed. “Grandma, I’m just happy.”
“You should be happy,” Grandma lightly smacked his head. “If you’d come a few days earlier, Grandma definitely would’ve chased you down and beaten you for thirty or sixty li.”
“Grandma,” Sun Wenqu followed her into the kitchen to carry dishes. “Can I ask you something?”
“What is it?” Grandma looked at him.
Sun Wenqu wrapped an arm around her shoulders and quietly asked, “Did you tear down the Spring Festival couplets?”
Grandma clicked her tongue and glanced at him. “Sharp eyes. Grandma tore them down when I was angry. Later your grandpa pasted them back up.”
“Can I write a new set?” Sun Wenqu asked.
“Who writes Spring Festival couplets on the fourth day of New Year?” Grandma said.
“I just want to.” Sun Wenqu smiled.
“Then write them,” Grandma thought for a moment and gestured with her hand. “Write a big one, about your height. There’s still paper at home, the leftover paper you bought last year.”
“Okay.” Sun Wenqu smiled and carried the soup pot out.
Among the gifts Sun Wenqu brought were several bottles of liquor. The moment Fang Chi took them out, his Dad’s eyes immediately lit up. “Good liquor! Let me see.”
“You’re way too easy to bribe.” Grandma rolled her eyes at him.
Dad laughed twice and looked over the bottles. “Everyone drink some.”
“I’ll drink the homemade liquor,” Sun Wenqu smiled. “I really do like Grandpa’s homemade liquor.”
“Just drink both,” Cheng Mo said. “I’ll try the homemade liquor later too.”
“I can’t mix alcohols,” Sun Wenqu went to the shelf against the wall and grabbed the sweet potato liquor Grandpa had just made. “Today I’m only drinking this. Fang Chi and I even made a pact before to compete in drinking.”
Fang Chi suddenly whipped his head around and glared at Sun Wenqu.
On the surface, their agreement sounded like just a drinking contest, but the actual contents were shameless beyond belief. Sun Wenqu casually bringing it up like this made Fang Chi’s face instantly flush red.
“Oh?” Cheng Mo smiled. “Which one of you can drink more?”
“Definitely Uncle Sun,” Xiao Yiming answered immediately without even thinking.
“Then that’s probably right,” Cheng Mo said. “You understand Fang Chi’s alcohol tolerance better.”
“Yiming, what did you call Shuiqu?” Grandma looked at Xiao Yiming.
“Sun… Uncle,” Xiao Yiming laughed awkwardly. “I’m used to it. I’m still young.”
“The generations are all messed up.” Cheng Mo laughed quietly.
Fang Chi stood up and poured drinks for everyone. The fragrance of liquor mixed together with the aroma of food, and amid the steaming warmth there was an indescribably relaxed and cozy feeling.
It was like carrying a huge sack for a long time and finally throwing it onto the ground; like walking a long road and finally finding a water source; like freezing in the snow for ages and finally finding a house with a fire burning… that kind of feeling.
For no reason at all, he just wanted to laugh.
He didn’t know what Grandpa and Grandma, or his dad and mom, were feeling now. Maybe it wasn’t as pleasant as what he was experiencing, but he could still vaguely sense it, what’s past is past, what is, is; within the helplessness there was also a kind of relief.
Cheng Mo could really drink. As soon as he started, he went around toasting everyone, then drank while chatting.
Xiao Yiming didn’t drink much, just tasted a little along.
Fang Chi kept staring at Sun Wenqu’s glass. To be honest, if Sun Wenqu used the homemade liquor to compete with him, it wasn’t really fair, homemade liquor had a high alcohol content, hit hard, and the main thing was that it went to your head after drinking.
“Should I switch to homemade liquor like you?” Fang Chi asked softly by his ear.
“No need,” Sun Wenqu turned his head, curling his lips. “Drink whatever you want. As long as you accept the loss if you lose.”
Fang Chi clicked his tongue. “I won’t be fooled by pre-battle sugar-coated bullets.”
“Then try it.” Sun Wenqu said.
Fang Chi figured Sun Wenqu could probably drink well, but with how delicate he looked… although delicacy had nothing to do with alcohol tolerance, he just felt like Sun Wenqu didn’t look like someone who could drink.
Someone like him, a wind-like wild dog, a chive-like dog, was the one who could drink.
They called it a drinking contest, but it wasn’t formal. Everyone ate and chatted while drinking. With Cheng Mo there, the atmosphere was lively; he grew up in the city and rarely went to the countryside, so when Grandpa talked about things in the mountains, he was especially interested, asking question after question.
“So Fang Chi went into the mountains with you since he was little?” Cheng Mo looked envious. “That’s so interesting. I only followed my grandpa to the market when I was little. My mom at most took me shopping, and could even lose me three times in one trip…”
Everyone in the room laughed. Grandpa took a sip of wine. “Your mom sounds like a good person, doesn’t seem that careless.”
“She just refuses to accept the fact that she has a son, still thinks she’s a young girl,” Cheng Mo clinked glasses with Grandpa. “So I call her ‘older sister.’”
Fang Chi laughed while glancing at Sun Wenqu’s glass, then froze. It felt like that glass had just been filled; his own was barely half finished, but Sun Wenqu’s was already empty.
If it were the first glass, he wouldn’t be surprised, but this was the third, and they weren’t even using small cups.
“Drink slower,” Fang Chi said quietly. “You’ll get a stomachache later.”
“It’s fine as long as I’m not mixing drinks,” Sun Wenqu smiled, tilting his head to look at him. “Feeling a faint sense of unease?”
“Not faint, I’m practically pouring out,” Fang Chi clicked his tongue. “At most I’m faintly worried about your stomach.”
“Don’t worry,” Sun Wenqu reached behind him and rubbed his back lightly. “If I feel uncomfortable, I’ll stop.”
Fang Chi had always thought his alcohol tolerance was pretty good. He rarely got drunk, and even when he did, he didn’t make a scene, he’d just quietly sit aside.
Maybe today he was in a good mood, or maybe it was the warmth of the fire and hot pot in the room, or maybe the liquor Sun Wenqu brought was strong,
Anyway, he felt himself starting to get dizzy.
Getting dizzy wasn’t the problem. The problem was that when he turned to look at Sun Wenqu, his eyes were still clear.
He even played rock-paper-scissors with Xiao Yiming and won four rounds in a row, looking refreshed and sharp-minded.
“Grandpa,” Fang Chi tapped his glass on the table, “this year’s sweet potato liquor is fake, right? Diluted with water?”
His dad looked at him and laughed. “Fang Chi’s done.”
“Who says,” Fang Chi clicked his tongue. “I’m just a bit soft.”
“Wenqu can really drink,” his mom said. “He looks like he hasn’t even been drinking.”
“I just like this liquor. If I don’t like the alcohol, I’ll get dizzy after one glass,” Sun Wenqu said with a smile. “I’ll take some back when I leave, Grandpa.”
“Sure, take two bottles,” Grandpa said with a smile.
Fang Chi wasn’t convinced. He could accept losing to Sun Wenqu in academics and art, but losing in drinking, a brainless activity, to this delicate old man? That was unacceptable.
So he forced down two more glasses.
After finishing, he leaned back in his chair, closed his eyes, and felt like singing “Between Heaven and Earth.”
“Fang Chi, you lost,” Cheng Mo said, propping his chin on his hand, laughing. He had also drunk quite a bit and was slurring his words.
“Yeah,” Fang Chi responded. “My grandpa’s fake liquor.”
“Admit defeat?” Sun Wenqu asked with a smile.
Fang Chi opened one eye to look at him and sighed. “I admit it.”
