PCJ – Chapter 462 Father and Son Heart-to-Heart

At night, Liu Qiaoye nudged Zhang Youping, who was snoring loudly. Zhang Youping had been very busy lately. Not only was he the president of the Xintian County Tea Industry Association, but he was also the honorary president of the Zijiang City Tea Association and a council member of the Provincial Tea Industry Association. With more titles came more responsibilities, leaving him exhausted and falling asleep as soon as he hit the bed.

“What is it?” Zhang Youping assumed Liu Qiaoye was urging him about work.

“Don’t you think something’s off with Zai Zai since he came back?” Liu Qiaoye asked, not thinking too deeply about it.

Zhang Youping yawned, already half-asleep again. “Nothing’s off; he’s doing fine.”

Liu Qiaoye grew irritated. “Fine? Do you even know what Zai Zai told me today?”

Startled by her tone, Zhang Youping quickly gathered himself, his drowsiness fleeing in an instant. “What did he say?”

“He said he wants to go out and see the world,” Liu Qiaoye replied.

“It’s normal for kids to want to explore as they grow up. During the summer break, we can all go on a trip together,” Zhang Youping said, clearly missing the point.

Liu Qiaoye pinched him hard, making him yelp. “What did I say wrong now?” he asked, grimacing.

“I’m not saying he just wants to travel! That rascal has his mind set on leaving us behind and running off on his own!” Liu Qiaoye lowered her voice at this point, speaking more gravely.

“What?!” Zhang Youping was taken aback. He thought back to when he was Zai Zai’s age—he was still herding cattle for the production team. And now, his own son wanted to strike out on his own.

“I’m worried that he’s made up his mind. He might leave without saying a word one day. You need to figure something out!” Liu Qiaoye said, genuinely concerned.

Zhang Youping pondered for a moment. “Our Zai isn’t like other kids. The more you try to keep him at home, the more he’ll want to run off.”

“So, what do you suggest? Should we encourage him to leave?” Liu Qiaoye shot him a glare.

“I don’t know! Letting him go worries me. The last time he went out, he was gone for eight months. When I saw him again, he looked like a wild man. If he leaves for longer, who knows how he’ll come back? But if we don’t let him go, do you think we can stop him?” Zhang Youping asked, looking at his wife.

“Do you think I’d be asking you if I thought we could stop him?” Liu Qiaoye retorted, exasperated.

Both of them sighed heavily, troubled by the situation.

“That rascal grew up in the blink of an eye. He’s still in middle school but already itching to fly away. When he grows up, he might not want us anymore,” Liu Qiaoye lamented.

“He wouldn’t dare. If he does, I’ll break his legs,” Zhang Youping declared.

“Stop bluffing. Remember when we went to Muyun Village? You said the same thing, but when I wanted to hit him, you held me back,” Liu Qiaoye pointed out. She knew her husband’s harsh words were just that—words. Deep down, he doted on their son even more than she did.

“How about we try harder and have a daughter?” Zhang Youping suggested.

“One kid is already giving us a headache. If we have another one like him, life would be unbearable,” Liu Qiaoye said firmly.

“Maybe putting some pressure on him will make him more obedient,” Zhang Youping mused.

“No, that might hurt his feelings. I always feel like we owe him something,” Liu Qiaoye shook her head.

“Alright, I’ll talk to him tomorrow. Hopefully, I can change his mind. If he finishes high school and gets into college, then he can go wherever he wants, and we won’t stop him,” Zhang Youping proposed.

“Give it a try. But don’t end up being persuaded by him instead,” Liu Qiaoye said, doubtful about how the father-son negotiation would go.

The next morning, as Zhang Jiaohua was about to leave for school, Zhang Youping called him over.

“I’ll drive you to school today,” Zhang Youping offered.

As the car cruised along the smooth cement road to Yidushui Middle School, there was no dust flying up, a testament to how much the roads had improved.

“Jiaohua, your mother said you don’t want to continue school?” Zhang Youping asked.

Zhang Jiaohua nodded. “School is useless to me. It’s just a waste of time.”

“Then what isn’t a waste of time?” Zhang Youping pressed.

“I’m a cultivator. Cultivating is the only thing that isn’t a waste of time,” Zhang Jiaohua replied, looking up at his father to gauge his reaction.

“Can’t you cultivate at home? Why do you have to leave?” Zhang Youping asked.

“To cultivate, I must free myself from this cage and be unrestrained. If I’m locked in a cage, how can I be free? Leaving Meishan is the only way to fully release myself and connect with the essence of heaven and earth. Without this connection, how can I practice the path to immortality?” Zhang Jiaohua explained.

Hearing this, Zhang Youping realized his son was resolute. Jiaohua wasn’t like other kids—he was incredibly determined. Once he made up his mind, it was nearly impossible to change it.

“Can’t you wait until you finish high school and get into college?” Zhang Youping asked.

“If I wait until then, I’ll miss the most crucial time for progress. During the months I spent running through Meishan, I gained a lot. If I strike while the iron is hot, I might elevate my cultivation even further,” Zhang Jiaohua said, his resolve growing stronger.

“If I let you go, where would you go?” Zhang Youping asked.

“I don’t know yet. I just want to wander and seek opportunities to break through,” Zhang Jiaohua admitted.

The car fell silent for a long time before Zhang Youping finally said, “Do you know how worried your mother and I would be if you left? Your mother especially.”

Jiaohua’s expression darkened, and he nodded. “I know. But I’ll have to leave sooner or later.”

As they reached the school, Zhang Youping stopped the car. Before Jiaohua got out, he called him back.

“Jiaohua, no matter what, you can’t leave secretly this time. Understand?”

Jiaohua paused. “Dad, you support me, don’t you?”

“You’re not like other kids. Maybe keeping you here would only make you miserable. Perhaps you’re like the eagle in Meishan, meant to soar freely in the sky. But your mother might not accept this easily. You’ll need to convince her yourself. If you can’t, you’ll have to wait until after college,” Zhang Youping said.

“I understand.” Jiaohua slung his bag over his shoulder and stepped out of the car.

“Don’t tell your mother what I said!” Zhang Youping shouted after him.

“Got it,” Jiaohua replied loudly without looking back.