Night deepened. The brothers-in-law were all tipsy, arms slung over each other's shoulders like the best of buddies.
Zhang Zhaohai was especially drunk today, and especially carefree.
His brothers-in-law had taken turns urging him to drink, and he hadn't bothered to refuse. He'd just wanted to enjoy himself.
"Son, in a few years, when your old man can't drink anymore, you can take over," Zhang Zhaohai said drunkenly.
"Still talking nonsense? Who knows how much you've had," Song Wenqin scolded softly, though she wasn't angry. In the past, she would definitely have been furious if her husband had come home this drunk.
But today was different. She knew Zhang Zhaohai was happy, and it had been a long time since he'd been this happy.
Zhang Yang drove with a smile, saying nothing. The whole way, he just listened to Zhang Zhaohai ramble on. Men tended to brag a little when they got drunk, but his father was really outdoing himself today. Even Zhang Yang had to hand it to him.
Early the next morning, it was Zhang Yang's last day at home.
The three of them made a special trip back to their hometown. There, Grandpa Zhang and Grandma Zhang were enjoying a leisurely country life.
"You should've just come. Why bring so much stuff?" Grandpa Zhang was hale and hearty. He was well into his seventies, yet still tall and broad-shouldered.
"Grandpa, most of this stuff keeps for a long time. The milk is what you really need to watch. I marked the expiration date on each carton in black marker, so don't forget again." Zhang Yang stood up and set down the pen, reminding him over and over.
"I know, I know. It won't go bad." Grandpa Zhang waved him off, turning the cigarette pack over in his hands. "These cigarettes must've cost a pretty penny, huh?"
"They're all right. They're good to smoke, though," Zhang Yang said with a smile.
"Got it. I'll keep these for myself, then. I won't hand them out." Grandpa Zhang nodded, immediately understanding what Zhang Yang meant.
Outside, Grandma Zhang had caught a few real free-range hens from the coop.
"They're all three years old. They'll be delicious in soup," Grandma Zhang said.
Zhang Yang had been craving real free-range hens. The chickens from the market always made watery soup, no matter how long you stewed them, and the meat was tough. There was nothing delicious about them.
These old hens were different. When stewed, their aroma carried for miles.
Even in Magic City, real farm-raised free-range chickens like these were hard to come by. You needed to know the right people.
The trunk had been full when they arrived. They'd unloaded everything at the old family home, but on the way back, it was filled to the brim with all kinds of things again.
Zhang Yang walked up onto the raised path between the fields and gazed out over the boundless farmland. With the wind blowing from every direction, he felt completely at ease.
He heard the trunk close behind him. Turning around, he knew it was time to go.
"Mom, Dad, I told you to come back with us, but you two insist on staying out here in the countryside. I can't help worrying," Zhang Zhaohai said.
"We have neighbors all around us, and your uncles are here too. Don't worry," Grandpa Zhang said, waving a hand.
In the countryside, people in their eighties could still work in the fields. At his age, Grandpa Zhang felt he was still in the prime of life. What could possibly be wrong?
Knowing he couldn't talk Grandpa Zhang out of it, Zhang Zhaohai had no choice but to give up.
On the way back, Zhang Yang glanced in the rearview mirror. The old couple stood by the roadside, watching them go. Grandpa Zhang stood with his hands behind his back, motionless for a long time.
Around three or four in the afternoon, the Porsche returned with a full load.
That evening, they put together another big meal at home, celebrating the family's brief reunion during the May Day holiday.
Though mountains and rivers might separate them, they would meet again someday.
Zhang Yang hoped that next time he came home, he'd be able to bring his parents even bigger changes.
Early the next morning, just before his departure,
Zhang Yang stood by the roadside, listening to his parents' repeated reminders.
"Luck only lasts so long. You can't put all your hopes in it. I hope you won't touch rough jade stones again," Zhang Zhaohai said, unusually stern.
How did a gambling addiction start? First you got a taste of winning, then you took a loss and tried to win it back, sinking deeper and deeper.
He was afraid Zhang Yang had come into money too easily, only to lose it just as easily.
"Don't worry, Dad. I won't touch them again." Zhang Yang nodded without hesitation.
Unless the system came up with something guaranteed to make money, he wasn't going to gamble on luck again. With the system backing him, wasn't it better to enjoy huge cashback every day?
"Good." Zhang Zhaohai nodded in satisfaction.
All in all, Zhang Yang was a son he could trust.
Nearby, Song Wenqin was busy tying up the old hen, preparing to send it live with Zhang Yang to Magic City so the meat would be as fresh as possible.
Zhang Yang had watched Zhang Zhaohai host family banquets since he was little. Killing a chicken, cleaning it, and making soup were all so simple they were practically second nature to him.
After closing the trunk, Zhang Yang hugged his parents and set off back to Shanghai.
Around noon, Zhang Yang returned to Magic City.
In the underground garage of the serviced apartment, Zhang Yang sent Bei Wei a video call, intending to check in on her.
When she answered, Bei Wei was wearing pajamas and sneezing every so often.
"Brother Zhang, have you eaten?" she asked, eating a simple takeout meal. Her voice was thick with congestion.
"Have you caught a cold?" Zhang Yang asked.
"Mm." Bei Wei nodded vigorously. "My nose is blocked. It's miserable."
"You've caught a cold, and you're still eating takeout?" Zhang Yang said with a helpless laugh.
"I didn't have the energy to go out, and I didn't feel like cooking. I'll make do with one meal." As soon as she finished speaking, Bei Wei sneezed again. She hurriedly covered her nose and mouth with a tissue, hoping Zhang Yang wouldn't see her looking so embarrassing.
"Wait a bit." Zhang Yang ended the call. He didn't even bother getting out of the car, heading straight to Bei Wei's apartment instead.
After parking downstairs, Zhang Yang carried the flapping old hen in one hand and called Bei Wei.
"What floor?"
"Brother Zhang, why are you here?!" Bei Wei exclaimed in delighted surprise.
"I came to check on you. By the way, your roommate... would it be okay for me to come over?" Since she shared the apartment with another woman, Zhang Yang knew he had to be considerate.
"Wait a moment, Brother Zhang." Bei Wei seemed to get up. A little while later, she said, "Come on up, Brother Zhang. Sixteenth floor. I've called the elevator."
A short while later, the elevator doors opened.
Zhang Yang stepped out and knocked on the door.
Before long, it opened.
A tall figure stood in the doorway. She didn't look particularly friendly when she saw Zhang Yang. It was Bei Wei's roommate. She didn't stop him from coming in, though; perhaps Bei Wei had already told her he was coming.
"Bei Wei, he's here." She stepped back two paces, glancing at the live chicken flapping in Zhang Yang's hand with an expression of disgust.
Zhang Yang pretended not to notice and carried the chicken into the apartment Bei Wei shared with someone else.
The apartment was tastefully furnished and looked to be around a hundred square meters. It was more than spacious enough for two women.
A nearby bedroom door opened, and Bei Wei poked her head out.
"Brother Zhang, have a seat. I'll go change... Huh? Brother Zhang, you brought a chicken?"
"Yeah. We're having chicken soup tonight." Zhang Yang headed straight for the kitchen. "Go back to your room and wait. I'll call you when it's ready."
Before you continue