Chapter 11: Wang Cheng Wants to Sell Melons Too?

"That rebellious son, he's going to be the death of me!" Wang Song’s face was flushed with rage. "I’ll see when he decides to come home. When he does, I’ll force him to kneel in the courtyard for three days."

"Three days of kneeling is letting him off easy," Li Guifen snorted. "I’ll smack his face with the sole of my shoe. He won’t step foot in this house until he kowtows to me and admits he was wrong."

"Dad, Mom, please, stop saying such harsh things. Big brother isn't feeling good about this either," Wang Cheng said with a smile, trying to comfort them.

Ten minutes later, seeing that Wang Peng still hadn't emerged, they left in a huff.

The world finally fell silent.

Wang Peng stood at the doorway, watching their retreating figures with a sneer. "Are you kidding me? Even at this point, they still think I’m just throwing a tantrum? They actually expect me to go home and beg for forgiveness? Unbelievable."

Du Lei laughed. "I still don't get it. You were the top scorer in the high school entrance exam, so why are they forcing you to give up your admission letter to your younger brother? Does he even have better grades than you?"

"Why else? Favoritism, that's why!" Wang Peng shook his head, unwilling to dwell on the topic.

Wang Song was a classic feudal patriarch. In his worldview, everything in the house was his to command, including high school admission letters.

The second son was frail and sickly, unable to carry a load or lift a basket; therefore, he was deemed "better suited" for studying and becoming an official, so he could earn money to support the family in the future.

The eldest son was strong and sturdy, capable of any grueling labor, meaning he could earn money to support the family right now.

If the eldest son went to study while the second son couldn't work, it would be a loss for the household—that was Wang Song's logic for managing his family.

"Brother Peng, I sometimes suspect you aren't even their biological son, and that the second one is the real child," Du Lei said with a look of mockery. "I’m just glad I didn't end up with parents like that."

With that, he opened his waist pack to count the day's earnings.

"Brother Peng, we made 149 yuan today. Subtract the thirty yuan for the jeans, and that leaves 119. Happy?" Du Lei handed him the money.

Wang Peng’s waist pack had two layers. He kept eighty yuan in the inner layer and added the fifty yuan he just received.

He was still seventy yuan short of his tuition fees for the new semester.

The remaining sixty-nine yuan, his business capital, was kept in the outer layer, which he then tucked into a snakeskin bag.

"We should have enough for tuition by tomorrow, right?" Du Lei patted him on the shoulder.

"I’m going to buy some supplies, then I’ll treat you to some braised noodles," Wang Peng said, pointing toward the noodle shop across the street.

"You should just buy some steamed buns instead. I want to eat the pickled garlic my mom made," Du Lei said, not wanting him to spend the money.

Truly a good brother from his past life, Wang Peng handed him the small white kitten, stood up, and walked into the People's Mall.

The second floor was for household items, where he bought toothpaste, a toothbrush, a rinsing cup, a washbasin, and soap.

The third floor was the food section. Good-quality rice was only thirty cents, much cheaper than in the future.

He kept fifty yuan as capital for tomorrow's watermelon wholesale and spent the rest on supplies.

Leaving the mall, the two brothers pulled the cart back to Du Village.

...

On the way home, Wang Cheng whispered, "I just asked around—Big Brother is selling his watermelons for thirty cents a jin?"

"Thirty cents a jin?"

"Is that for real?"

Wang Song and Li Guifen asked in unison.

"Of course it's real. I asked several people who bought them, and they all said thirty cents," Wang Cheng said with a smile. "Dad, Mom, why would I lie to you?"

There were other farmers in the village who grew melons, and their wholesale price was ten cents. At the rural market, the retail price for watermelon was fifteen cents.

Wang Song scratched his head, feeling as if he had found a path to wealth.

"Dad, let’s go sell melons there tomorrow, too," Wang Cheng suggested. "Once we make money, you two can buy some new clothes first, hehe."

If they could haul their watermelons there, they could make twenty cents per jin. Wang Song was tempted.

"Second son, is this reliable?" he asked in a low voice.

"Absolutely reliable. If it wasn't profitable, my big brother wouldn't be selling them there," Wang Cheng explained.

Wang Song thought it over and felt it made sense, though something still felt off. If it was this profitable, why weren't others setting up stalls at the gate of the residential compound?

"Master of the house, is this really reliable?" Li Guifen was also worried.

"Mom, whether it's reliable or not, we'll know after trying tomorrow."

As long as he could make money, he could buy jeans and new sneakers—and they had to be better than his big brother's.

At Du Village, the two brothers returned home. Wang Peng boiled a few bowls of rice porridge, and Du Lei brought over a plate of pickled garlic. They ate with gusto.

The garlic was pickled with sugar, salt, and soy sauce, making it incredibly sweet.

Once fed, the two went to the melon field to load five hundred jin of watermelons. Wang Peng handed Du Gedan fifty yuan.

"Little Wang really has a knack for this," Du Gedan said, giving him a thumbs-up. "I estimated there are about ten thousand jin left in the field. At your pace, you'll be finished in twenty days."

Wang Peng smiled and scratched his head. It was a three-to-four-acre field, and a yield of three thousand jin per acre was standard.

"Leizi, after we finish selling the melons, let's go to Xinjiang to find your dad. I miss my grandson," Old Du said, looking toward the northwest.

"Sure, we'll go once the melons are sold," Du Lei said, also missing his parents.

Wang Peng did the math silently. Assuming the price stayed at thirty cents, the ten thousand jin would guarantee at least two thousand yuan—that would be great.

He would set aside one thousand for school and use the rest for a small business, aiming to buy a house before starting his second year of high school.

As long as he bought properties in areas that would skyrocket in value, his tuition for all four years of college would be covered.

...

The two brothers pulled the watermelons home when a young boy ran up to them. "Brother Lei, someone told me to give this to you."

He threw a heart-shaped piece of stationery at Du Lei and bolted.

A love letter!

Du Lei’s face turned bright red. He hurriedly shoved the letter into his pocket and glanced furtively at Wang Peng.

"A love letter?" Wang Peng asked with a smile.

"I don't know, I haven't read it yet." Du Lei’s face grew even redder as he turned his back to open it.

Soon, the shyness on his face vanished, replaced by confusion and doubt.

"What's wrong, brother?" Wang Peng leaned in, trying to see what was written.

"Nothing, it's just a classmate, Feng Lingling, asking to borrow money." Du Lei hurried away.

Wang Peng watched him head into the main room, his brow furrowing. "Feng Lingling! It’s actually Feng Lingling!"

Feng Lingling was Du Lei’s wife in his past life. She had cheated on him countless times, and neither of their children had been his.

In that past life, Du Lei had shared how their "romance" started—with him stealing money to help her pay her tuition.

Wang Peng’s frown deepened. "No, I can't let Du Lei follow that same path. I have to find a way to make him see the true face of that toxic woman."

He went into the main room and found Du Lei. "Brother Lei, tomorrow after we finish selling the melons, let's go find your first love, Feng Lingling."

"No," Du Lei said, poking his head out of the room. "She's a girl and she's shy; I don't want to cause a scene. Brother Peng, stay out of this."

"Fine, I won't interfere. Get some sleep; we’ll sell the melons at the usual spot tomorrow." Wang Peng went to his room, holding the white cat.

That night, Du Lei suffered from insomnia, tossing and turning.

He sat up, turned on the light, and pulled the love letter from under his pillow.

In the letter, Feng Lingling first confessed her feelings, then asked to borrow money for tuition.

She had been accepted into Ping'an County No. 3 High School, but the tuition was 180 yuan. Her father had explicitly refused to pay, forcing her to work in the south.

However, she wrote that she wanted to study, and if she went south, she would never see her beloved Leilei again, and that she would cry.

Du Lei was moved by the saccharine words and read the letter again.

"Lingling is only sixteen, how can she go work?" Du Lei’s heart ached as he stared blankly at the locked cabinet.

Inside that cabinet was the money from his grandfather's watermelon sales.