TIPS – Chapter 99

“Mm, the children come here to study, but we don’t charge much—just a small fee for pens and ink,” Song Jingwei said, while observing Qiao Lang’s reaction.

Qiao Lang nodded in understanding. After a long pause, he finally said, “Young Master Song is a truly kind man.”

“Heh.” Song Jingwei laughed and shook his head. “I wouldn’t say that. I don’t do good deeds because they’re good deeds. I just… do them.” He thought, Just doing it. Not because it’s charity, but simply because it should be done.

“This is a great kindness,” Qiao Lang murmured softly. As he looked at the children through the window, his mind was made up—he would stay.

They say the eyes are the windows to the soul, and even without looking into Qiao Lang’s eyes, Song Jingwei could sense the man’s true nature. He liked having such people teach the children. He smiled and said, “Although our school is nonprofit, we’ll still pay the teacher a proper salary. In addition to the salary, there’s also housing arranged. It’s not a private courtyard, but the environment is very nice.”

He planned to house Qiao Lang in Uncle Ya’s courtyard. That way, the elderly man would have some company and wouldn’t feel so lonely.

“Alright, as long as I have a place to stay, I’m satisfied,” Qiao Lang replied with a soft, somewhat melancholic smile. He was a wanderer far from home. Before turning thirty, he had once burned with the passion of passing the imperial exams. After thirty, all that was left was a yearning for a quiet, peaceful life. Right now, this was perfect—a beautiful countryside where he could enjoy a refined life of teaching and guiding young minds.

“Alright then, I’ll take you to see the place.” Song Jingwei led Qiao Lang to Uncle Ya’s courtyard. The old man wasn’t home at the time, so he first arranged for Qiao Lang to move in. Then he took Qiao Lang to the fields to find Uncle Ya and inform him immediately. That was Song Jingwei’s principle—he felt that letting someone move in without informing Uncle Ya first would be disrespectful.

The two tenants met, nodded politely, and agreed without issue.

Uncle Ya was even a bit emotional. He gestured to Song Jingwei: “This young man looks so much like my older brother.”

Song Jingwei didn’t think much of it and casually replied, “You have an older brother? Didn’t you say you had no family?” Then he remembered—Uncle Ya was quite old now. Perhaps his brother had already passed away.

Uncle Ya gestured, “I had an older brother, but… we got separated when I was very young. It’s been decades. I don’t even know where to look for him.”

“You got separated?” Song Jingwei was surprised. The old man had never mentioned this before. He asked, “Why didn’t you try to find him later?”

Uncle Ya gestured, “I was too young. I didn’t remember where home was. I only remember what my brother looked like, and what our parents looked like.” Now that he was in his late seventies or eighties, his parents had most likely long passed away.

“Do you still remember your brother’s name?” Song Jingwei asked, his heart swelling with sympathy. This old man had been separated from his family since childhood and lived alone all these years. He had probably suffered many hardships and heartbreaks.

“…” Uncle Ya nodded, then picked up a twig from the ground and shakily scratched out three characters.

Song Jingwei crouched down to take a closer look. The characters looked like Lu Jingping (卢敬平). He read aloud, “Lu Jingping?”

“…” Uncle Ya nodded again, his face filled with nostalgia and longing. This might be the only family member he still remembered.

“Elder,” Qiao Lang’s hand trembled as he pointed to the characters on the ground. “You said your brother’s name is Lu Jingping? Could it be… Lu Jingping from Tangxia Village, in Baima Town?”

Uncle Ya couldn’t remember his hometown, so he couldn’t answer that question. He shook his head and gestured, “I don’t remember. I just know my brother’s name was definitely Lu Jingping. I’ve remembered it in my heart for decades—I can’t be wrong.”

“Then what about your parents’ names? Do you still remember them?” Qiao Lang asked urgently, clearly emotional. If this was real… it was very possible!

“Uncle Ya, if you remember, write them down,” Song Jingwei said. He could tell something was off with Qiao Lang. From the moment he saw the name Lu Jingping, he had a bold guess—Could they be related?

“…” Uncle Ya didn’t understand why the young man was so agitated, but he still wrote down two names: Lu Yuexiang (卢悦享) and Liu Yingdi (刘英娣).

As soon as Qiao Lang saw the two names, he suddenly threw his arms around Uncle Ya and burst into tears. Excitedly, he cried out, “You’re my uncle! You must be the uncle who went missing!”

Both Uncle Ya and Song Jingwei were stunned, especially Uncle Ya. He had longed for his family so desperately, and now suddenly, a stranger claimed to be his nephew. He opened his mouth—now without a tongue—and tears streamed down his aged face.

Qiao Lang also saw his uncle’s mouth and cried bitterly, “What happened to you? How did you end up like this?” Heaven was truly unfair—why had his uncle suffered such a fate?

Uncle Ya’s hands trembled as he tightly grasped Qiao Lang’s arm, whimpering incoherently. But his expression was full of urgency—he clearly had something he wanted to say, something he wanted to ask.

Song Jingwei quickly said, “Use sign language. I’ll interpret for you.”

Excited and overwhelmed, Uncle Ya gestured anxiously, “You’re my big brother’s son? How is my big brother? How are your grandparents?”

Hearing Song Jingwei’s translation, Qiao Lang quickly replied, “Yes, my name is Qiao Lang, I’m my father’s second son. I took the surname Qiao because I follow my stepfather’s name. I have an older brother named Lu Mengyang, he has two sons, both grown now. As for grandfather and grandmother, they passed away a few years ago—they went peacefully, without suffering.” As he spoke, Qiao Lang couldn’t stop his tears. “I’ve heard about you since I was a child. My father always remembered you. Every time he mentioned you, he blamed himself deeply. I just… I never imagined…” He had thought he’d spend the rest of his life in a foreign land, never expecting to stumble into his long-lost uncle like this. For this alone, he felt his life was worth it.

Uncle Ya, upon hearing that his parents had passed, was overcome with grief. But thinking of his big brother and his nephews, he pulled himself together and gestured, “And you, child, how did you end up here?”

Qiao Lang said, “I went on a journey to study and prepare for the imperial exams. But after ten years of failure, I felt too ashamed to face my parents again. I…”

Uncle Ya quickly gestured, “Foolish child, you silly child!” He had yearned for home for decades, while his nephew had a home yet refused to return.

“Uncle, I realize I was wrong. It wasn’t that I truly didn’t want to return home,” Qiao Lang said, wiping his tears. “Now that I’ve found you, I must take you back home with me.”

Uncle Ya gestured, “Is our home very far from here?”

Qiao Lang shook his head. “No, just five days by boat.” He had traveled even farther before—he was just too afraid to return when he was already so close.

Song Jingwei continued serving as translator. After the uncle and nephew had finished their emotional reunion, he said, “So you’re planning to return home?”

Now that Uncle Ya had found his family again, it was only right to return. Though Song Jingwei couldn’t help but feel a bit of a pity—this pair of excellent helpers might soon be gone.

Uncle Ya gestured, “After we finish with the fieldwork, I’ll take a trip with Xiao Lang to see my big brother.”

Qiao Lang nodded. “Uncle hasn’t returned in decades. I’ll go home with him. As for what happens after that… I’m sorry, I can’t say for sure just yet.” Perhaps his uncle would stay there for good, perhaps he himself would no longer venture out again—it was impossible to tell now.

“That’s alright, I understand,” said Song Jingwei. He didn’t insist on making them stay. After all, what could be more precious than finding a family member lost for decades? He wouldn’t ruin such a reunion. Smiling, he added, “Congratulations on finding each other again. Whether you stay or leave in the future, you’ll always be welcome here.”

Qiao Lang nodded gratefully. “Young Master Song, you’re a truly kind person. If it weren’t for you, my uncle and I would never have found each other.” In such a vast world, what luck they had. If he hadn’t seen that small notice, if he hadn’t decided to try his luck, if there had been the slightest deviation—this reunion might never have happened. Just thinking about it felt surreal.

“No need to thank me. This was fate between you two,” said Song Jingwei with a smile. Truly, this was a miracle—and he had been part of making it happen. If he hadn’t come to this time and place, if he hadn’t decided to grow lotus roots, if he hadn’t brought Uncle Ya here… a whole chain of cause and effect had led to this miracle reunion between uncle and nephew.

In short, family is rare and precious—treasure it.

“Thank you. Thank you,” Uncle Ya gestured solemnly, tears still brimming in his eyes.

Song Jingwei said, “You two go back and rest for now. Forget about everything else today and just enjoy your reunion.”

The two of them nodded repeatedly, thanked Song Jingwei again, and then Qiao Lang helped Uncle Ya back home.

That evening, Song Jingwei asked Shen Junxi to go to Uncle Ya’s courtyard and invite the two to have dinner at his house. At the dinner table, he told the rest of the Shen family the good news that had happened today.

The Shen couple were both astonished and touched. “That’s truly lucky. It must be fate that brought you together—heaven’s arrangement,” they said with emotion.

“Since you’ve found your uncle again, make sure you honor him well from now on,” Shen Dongming told Qiao Lang.

“Of course. I will absolutely take care of Uncle,” Qiao Lang replied firmly. When he learned that his uncle had never married in his life, he said resolutely, “I will take care of my uncle in his old age. I am his son now.”

Uncle Ya was deeply moved and comforted. The brother he remembered had been a good man, and his brother’s children were just as kind—truly wonderful.

After dinner, Uncle Ya and Qiao Lang returned to their courtyard. Only the five members of the Shen family remained in the house. Yang Shi cradled her eldest grandson, who had just fallen asleep. As she gently patted him, she murmured in a low voice, “What a coincidence… really too much of a coincidence. But luckily, they met again.” None of them had known before what kind of story Uncle Ya had.

Though it was never said explicitly how he lost his voice, it was definitely not due to illness—it was different from Shen Junxi.

“I think Uncle Ya was kidnapped. It’s truly pitiful,” Shen Dongming said. After living with him for some time, he had already learned that Uncle Ya’s tongue had been cut out.

“The child traffickers are truly despicable!” Yang Shi tightened her hold on the baby in her arms and said, “You really have to watch your own children carefully. If you let your guard down for even a second and your child gets kidnapped, there’d be nowhere to cry about it!” Just thinking about her own child being in that kind of situation made her wish she could keep watch over him every single hour of the day.

“But hey, we don’t have child traffickers around here, do we?” Shen Dongming said, not too concerned. He felt that Chashan Village was very safe.

“You ever heard of ‘better safe than sorry’?” Yang Shi glared at him.

Song Jingwei listened to the older couple go back and forth, then said, “Uncle Ya might be returning to his hometown in a few days, together with his nephew.”

When Shen Dongming heard this, he chuckled and reassured his son-in-law, “Don’t worry, Jingwei. I’ve already learned Uncle Ya’s way of planting lotus roots down to a T.” He’d always been the one working with Uncle Ya. Whatever Uncle Ya gestured, he’d repeat and remember it. There wasn’t anything he hadn’t picked up.

“That’s great. You’ll be able to handle it yourself from now on.” Song Jingwei gave a faint smile. Sometimes he found Shen Junxi’s father rather endearing.

As the tea farming work neared completion, the weather also started to show signs of warming up. Song Jingwei found time to go into town and looked for the fish sellers one by one, asking if they had fish fry for sale.

A vendor with a round face and large ears said, “You’ve come to the right person! My family’s fish pond is the biggest in the surrounding ten villages. Whatever fish fry you want, I’ve got them.”

“I want grass carp, common carp, eels, loaches, and some prawns too,” Song Jingwei listed.

“Alright. Let me pack up my stall, and I’ll take you home to get them.”

That afternoon, it took a lot of effort for Song Jingwei to transport the various fish fry back home from the vendor’s place. Following the vendor’s instructions, he released the fish fry into the pond.

After that, the farm work at home came to a temporary pause.

But Song Jingwei didn’t get to rest. He had heard that Uncle Ya and Qiao Lang were planning to return to their hometown within the next few days. He didn’t stop them. Instead, he gave the pair a good amount of travel money so their journey would go smoothly.

At the dock, he told Uncle Ya and Qiao Lang, “What I promised you will always hold true. You’re welcome to come back anytime.” Then he added, “And Uncle Ya, your share of the profits—if you don’t return, I’m not going to send it over. So you’ll have to decide for yourself.”

Uncle Ya knew he was joking and cheerfully gestured, “Alright, alright! If this old man doesn’t come back, you just keep the money.”

“Take care,” Song Jingwei said softly. He didn’t know what else to say. After all, chance meetings like these were fleeting; there was no need to be overly attached.

“Take care.” Qiao Lang stood on the boat, gave a final cupped-fist salute, then helped Uncle Ya into the cabin.

The young man stood beside Song Jingwei, quietly keeping him company as they watched the boat drift farther away. He gently held his hand and gave it a reassuring squeeze, silently offering comfort.

“Let’s head back.” In life, there were too many farewells. Song Jingwei wasn’t a sentimental person. Perhaps the young man next to him was feeling more emotional than he was.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi tightened his grip on the hand he held. He did feel reluctant, but more than that, he was constantly praying—praying that he and the one he loved would never have to go through such partings.

Before Qiao Lang and Uncle Ya left, perhaps some of the laborers had heard of their departure and also knew the academy was looking to hire tutors. A few came to recommend themselves—though not directly, but rather suggesting their relatives or sons.

But Song Jingwei wasn’t inclined to hire half-baked candidates, so he tactfully turned them down.

The reason he’d accepted Wu Xi before was because of a unique combination of timing, circumstances, and compatibility. Right now, what the academy urgently needed were two experienced tutors, not beginners who’d need a long adjustment period.

A couple of days later, a somewhat familiar-looking middle-aged scholar came knocking. He said he wanted to apply for a tutor position.

“Mister, have I seen you somewhere before?” The more Song Jingwei looked at him, the more familiar he seemed. He trusted his memory, and this man had a distinct appearance—he had a neatly trimmed tuft of beard under his chin.

“Perhaps we’ve met,” said the gentleman with the stylish beard. His surname was Xu, and he introduced himself as Xu Heng. A bit embarrassed, he said, “I was previously a tutor at the Shen family’s private school. For various reasons, I now wish to teach at Liangshan Academy.”

“Oh?” Upon hearing he was from the Shen family’s school, everything clicked into place for Song Jingwei. He remembered seeing him briefly last year. “And these ‘various reasons’ are?”

Since the man had left the Shen family’s school, he had to be cautious.

“Uh, well…” Xu Heng looked even more awkward, but in the end, he braced himself and confessed, “To be honest, I left the Shen school because of issues with the stipends.”

“What happened with the stipends?” Song Jingwei asked. He remembered the Shen school had decent benefits.

“Well, Young Master Song may not know—starting from the beginning of this year, the stipends from the Shen school were significantly reduced,” Xu Heng explained. “In past years, we were given two taels of silver each month. After subtracting lodging and food, we still had a good bit left. But in January and February this year, after those deductions, we were only given one tael a month.”