That evening, grandfather and grandson were in the kitchen together, preparing deep-fried meatballs for the next day. Grandpa Wu would take a handful of the minced meat mixture and, with a gentle squeeze of his hand, produce round, evenly shaped meatballs that dropped neatly into a pot of hot water.
After being parboiled, the meatballs floated to the surface one by one. Wu Jun, quick as lightning, scooped them up with a strainer and gently laid them in a shallow pan of hot oil, rolling them around several times until golden. The freshly fried meatballs were crispy, springy, and fragrant with the rich aroma of meat. Little Wu Tong, who had been popping in and out of the kitchen ever since Wu Jun and his grandfather started preparing the meatballs, was hopping around excitedly without end.
“Jun, hurry up and give your old uncle one to taste!”
Seeing the innocent child’s eagerness, Wu Jun filled a small bowl with several meatballs and handed it to him to take outside and eat.
“Grandpa, it’s almost dark. Why hasn’t anyone from Uncle Shan’s come to pick up Little Uncle Tong?”
“After we finish frying the meatballs, you take your little uncle home. While you’re at it, see what’s going on. Tomorrow is New Year’s—it’s so late and they still haven’t come to get the child. We have to have the family vigil together at midnight. We can’t let the time slip by.” Grandpa Wu was also very fond of little Tong, this little brother who was even younger than his own grandson. After all, the child was young and had already lost both parents.
After finishing the meatballs, Wu Jun took little Tong by the hand and headed toward his home. Along the way, the child no longer had the joyful look he’d had while eating meat during the day. Instead, he walked with a reluctant expression. Noticing the child’s demeanor, Wu Jun asked softly, “Little Uncle Tong, what’s wrong? Are you hungry?”
“Jun, do I have to go to my brother’s house? I don’t want to go back,” the child said pitifully, saying he didn’t want to return.
“You can stay at my house as long as you want any other day. But today is New Year’s Eve, and families need to be together for the vigil. How about this: tomorrow you come play at my house, and I’ll give you lots of puffed rice candy, okay?” Wu Jun coaxed patiently.
“But… but my sister-in-law said that’s not my home. She told me not to come back. They’re going to have their own baby, and they won’t give me any more meat to eat,” the child said, his voice cracking as tears welled up in his eyes.
Hearing this, Wu Jun knew something was wrong. Little Tong was a child born to his parents late in life. His parents, already elderly, had died early, so he had essentially been raised by his eldest brother and sister-in-law. Normally, they seemed to dote on him. Logically, even if the couple was about to have their own child, it was impossible they would just stop caring for their youngest brother.
“Don’t be scared. I’ll take you back and ask Uncle Shan. If they really don’t want you, you can come back with me. Is that okay?” Wu Jun discussed with the child.
Hearing this, little Tong wiped his tears and nodded.
When they reached the doorstep of Wu Shan’s house, Wu Jun noticed several villagers standing around outside, whispering among themselves. The sound of arguing came from inside.
“Wu Shan, let me tell you, I’ve done right by your Wu family. Didn’t I raise little Tong with my own two hands? When we first got married, we went years without a child. You said we should be good to your little brother so he’d take care of us when we got old. Fine. I couldn’t have kids, so I accepted it. Now, finally, heaven has taken pity on me and let me get pregnant. All the good things in this house should go to us now.” Sister-in-law Wu’s shrill voice carried, drawing in the neighbors.
“All I said was that I should go bring my little brother home. Why are you so worked up?” Wu Shan said helplessly.
“He’s old enough—can’t he come home by himself? Why do you need to go get him? When I was his age, I was already working in the fields earning work points.”
She puffed out her still-flat belly and continued, “Your own son is right here in my belly. Just now, your son wanted to eat a chicken leg, but you wouldn’t let him—you insisted on saving it for your little brother. Let me tell you, now that we have our own son, all the good things from now on should go to him. He came back for the New Year, but after the holidays, we’re leaving your little brother in the village. He’s eight years old—he can earn his own work points. Our money needs to be saved for raising our son.” Qin Liudi said, utterly convinced of her own righteousness.
“I never thought Qin Liudi was this kind of person!” Aunt Chen, a neighbor, said with a sigh. “She was a barren hen back then. Third Wa’s mother was about to kick her out, but she knelt down and swore she couldn’t have kids and would raise Tong Wazi as her own son. That’s the only reason she got to go to the city and live well. Now that she’s pregnant, she’s getting all high and mighty.”
“Exactly. These past few years, she seemed to be raising Tong Wazi properly, and we thought she was a decent person. But the moment she has a bun in the oven, she can’t even tolerate Tong Wazi anymore,” another elderly woman chimed in.
Wu Jun listened to all this with a headache forming. Looking at the child’s flushed face, he knew little Tong was heartbroken. He bent down, picked up the child, and went over to knock on the door. “Uncle Shan, open up. It’s Jun. I’m bringing Little Uncle Tong back.”
The door was opened by a simple, honest-looking middle-aged man with a dark, ruddy face that was sweating despite the bitter cold.
“Jun, have you eaten? The house is a bit messy—I haven’t gotten things sorted yet.” The man didn’t seem good with words. He just rubbed his palms together and stood there awkwardly.
“Uncle Shan, Aunt Shan. I’m a younger generation, so it’s not my place to lecture my elders. But it’s New Year’s Eve, and it’s too late to leave Little Uncle Tong out in the cold,” Wu Jun said, glancing at Aunt Shan’s false expression.
Wu Shan tried to take his little brother from Wu Jun’s arms, but the child clung tightly to Wu Jun’s neck, avoiding him.
“Jun, you know I’m your aunt. Don’t be disrespectful. This is family business. Since you brought little Tong back, it’s late—I won’t keep you.”
The neighbors who had gathered outside hadn’t dispersed. Hearing this, they began criticizing Qin Liudi. “Wife of Shan, that’s not right. Your nephew was kind enough to bring your little brother home. Even if you won’t offer him a drink of water, driving him away like that—there’s no logic to it, no matter how you spin it.”
“Exactly. And you said you want to leave little Tong in the village. He’s only eight—how is he supposed to support himself? Have you no conscience?” Aunt Chen said.
“Pah! Do I need you cursing me during the New Year? Why are you outsiders meddling in our family affairs? Do you know how hard it is to raise a child in the city? Little Tong isn’t my son—why should I keep raising him? If you’re so conscience-stricken, you raise him!” Qin Liudi, emboldened by her pregnancy, stood her ground with a righteous expression.
At the mention of raising an eight-year-old boy, the onlookers fell silent. As fellow villagers, they were willing to speak up about a problem. But when it came to actually taking action, no one dared. After all, they could barely feed their own children, let alone someone else’s.
“That’s enough. Uncle Shan, you’re both my elders, so I won’t say more. I’ll tell my grandfather about this, and we’ll see what the elders of our Wu family have to say. Little Uncle Tong will stay at my house for the next few days. We have an empty room.” With that, he said softly to Wu Tong, who was still clinging to his neck, “Little Uncle, just stay at my place for a few days. I’ll make you lots of good food.”
The child nodded slightly.
Before Wu Shan and Qin Liudi could say anything, Wu Jun hurried away. The onlookers, seeing that the drama was over, dispersed as well.