At noon, because there were two more mouths to feed at home, Wang made an extra dish.
Lin Zhan sat properly at the table, wolfing down his food, while Wang Daya seemed somewhat restrained and nervous.
But Yang Yunxue was a kind-hearted little girl and kept reassuring Wang Daya.
By the end of the meal, both of them had relaxed somewhat.
Just after lunch, Yang Zhengxiang arrived with three boys of fourteen or fifteen.
Yang Zhengshan had not expected him to be in such a hurry, but since the boys had already been sent over, he could hardly refuse again.
Of the three boys, one was Yang Zhengxiang's grandson, Yang Chengze, while the other two were promising youngsters of the clan, Yang Chengxu and Yang Qinwu.
Yang Zhengxiang had his own selfish motives, but Yang Zhengshan did not mind this little bit of selfishness.
Looking after one's eldest grandson was only human nature, nothing worth making a fuss over.
The elders of Yang Chengxu and Yang Qinwu had come along as well. They had not arrived empty-handed, bringing quite a few gifts.
The gifts were not particularly valuable, but in Yang Family Village, they were already considered fine things: tea leaves, cloth, and some malt sugar.
Yang Zhengshan did not refuse. He accepted their gifts and arranged for them to come to his home every day at chen hour, seven in the morning, so that he could teach them for one shichen.
They were all juniors of the Yang Clan and had some foundation already, so Yang Zhengshan did not need to start from the basics. He only needed to pass on his own experience and point out their shortcomings.
In the blink of an eye, half a month passed. The weather grew colder and colder, but the Yang Family