Fourth Master Wen finally calmed down. Only after he had dragged Zhang Xiaohu along in a whirlwind, jogging all the way to Zhang Xiaohu's little room, and personally seen Zhang Xiaohua sleeping soundly on the kang bed, did he truly settle down.
Fourth Master Wen stroked the few sparse hairs left of his beard, nodding again and again with a smile as radiant as mountain flowers. "Good, good, good."
His repeated praise left Zhang Xiaohu completely baffled. He did not know whether Fourth Master Wen was glad Zhang Xiaohua was alive, or glad he had saved ten thousand taels of silver.
Thinking of that thick stack of banknotes, Zhang Xiaohu could not help but feel his eyes heat up. That was an enormous fortune. How wonderful would it be if it were his? But when he looked again at his younger brother's sweet smile in sleep, the warmth in his heart was happiness itself. Forget banknotes—even a mountain of gold, he would not trade it away.
After saying "good" several times, Fourth Master Wen fell silent and simply stood there quietly.
Zhang Xiaohu had no idea what he meant, so he stood there with him.
After quite a while, Fourth Master Wen asked in puzzlement, "Zhang Xiaohu, you can't just keep making me stand here."
Zhang Xiaohu froze, then hurriedly pulled over a stool. "Fourth Master Wen, please sit."
Fourth Master Wen stamped his foot. "Is there nowhere else I can sit? Did I come to your little room just to sit on a cold bench?"
Not understanding, Zhang Xiaohu said, "Then please wait a moment, Fourth Master Wen. I'll go find you a cushioned couch."
Fourth Master Wen became angry. "Look at you—not a shred of tact, much less any sensitivity to struggle. And you still want to make