Chapter 35: The Sharp-Witted Young Girl

After Wang Erlang stepped out, he noticed his wife’s expression was off. He knew that compared to him, his daughter felt closer to her mother. Thus, he explained that he was willing to give up the recipe because the dish was not difficult to make, and since they had earned so much money, they had long been targeted. Moreover, several small stalls had recently appeared, selling food that tasted similar to theirs.

Using the recipe to make a trade with the Wang family allowed them to avoid trouble without suffering any real loss.

Jian Tong let out a sigh of relief; she was glad Wang Erlang was not as foolish as he seemed.

Wang Qin was initially unhappy, but she had not expected her husband to be willing to explain himself to her. A look of joy immediately appeared on her face, and upon careful consideration, she found his words reasonable and nodded in agreement.

Wang Er-ya, with her simple mind, did not understand the subtle dynamics between the adults, and the three of them returned to a warm and harmonious state.

Little Jian Tong’s head was filled with big questions. Wang Qin was Wang Er’s wife, and they were a family; it was only natural for him to explain things to her, so why was Wang Qin so happy? And why did Wang Erlang only offer an explanation because of his daughter, Er-ya?

There were many things in this book she did not understand, and Jian Tong decided to ask her older brother after she finished reading.

As for the threats from the Wang family, they had made Wang Erlang cautious. He realized that his previous actions had been far too eye-catching. Instead of rushing to ask Er-ya for a new recipe to keep making money, they chose to lie low, waiting for the buzz to die down before attempting a comeback.

Wang Er-ya did not understand the complex thoughts of adults. Free from the mistreatment, torture, and heavy chores of the Wang family, and well-fed and clothed, she began to grow taller, and the skin on her face became smoother and fairer.

These days, her favorite thing to do was play with a little girl from the neighborhood who was two years younger than her. They often played games common to rural children, such as hopscotch and shuttlecock.

These were games Wang Er-ya used to watch others play from afar, unable to join in herself.

Jian Tong watched with great interest. So, they played shuttlecock too? Jian Tong proudly tilted her head; she was excellent at shuttlecock, able to kick it two hundred times without letting it touch the ground, and she knew many fancy tricks.

But what was hopscotch? It looked quite fun, and she would have to try it sometime.

However, Er-ya soon lost her playmate, as the neighbor’s little girl was drawn in by the young miss from the village head’s household and went off to play with her instead.

The village head’s family was the wealthiest in the village, which was reflected in his daughter’s appearance. She wore a light green jacket and a goose-yellow pleated skirt that trailed on the ground, draped with long, elegant ribbons. Even more striking was her demeanor; she walked slowly and gracefully, not at all like the village girls who skipped and hopped about.

The neighbor’s little girl followed her to practice calligraphy, and she invited Er-ya along. However, Er-ya felt sullen and did not go, for she did not even know what practicing calligraphy was.

The contrast between Er-ya and the village head’s daughter filled Jian Tong with a deep sense of sadness. Her mind was a tangle of thoughts, and she could not find a single thread to pull.

What was the difference between Er-ya and the village head’s daughter? Was it appearance, clothing, mannerisms, or education? And where did that difference come from? Obviously, it was family background!

Without a good family background, there were no good tutors.

She was terribly upset. Sister Er-ya was so clever—she learned everything the moment the old immortal taught her—yet she didn't even have the opportunity to learn to read and write.

The book stated that after returning home, Er-ya told her father she wanted to learn calligraphy.

"Yes, she must learn to read and write. Books are wonderful, and one can only understand the principles of life through reading." Jian Tong, who loved reading, nodded earnestly.

Wang Er did not refuse; he even smiled and patted Er-ya’s head, saying, "Our Er-ya has grown up. She knows that only by reading and writing can she marry into a good family, and she’s starting to worry about her own future."

The light in Jian Tong’s eyes turned to bewilderment. Was reading not for understanding the world, but for marrying into a good family?

Er-ya also did not understand why her father’s topic shifted to marriage, but she knew that reading was not a bad thing. There were many boys in the village who wanted to read but couldn't afford to.

So, she emphasized to her father that she wanted not only to read but also to learn calligraphy.

Wang Erlang agreed.

With that, the second volume ended.

After finishing the book, Jian Tong’s doubts were not answered; instead, they had grown heavier.

When reading the first volume, she hadn’t understood why Grandmother Wang disliked only the second branch of the family, or why the first and third branches could openly bully and oppress them. She had hoped to find the answer in the second volume, but she hadn’t—in fact, she had developed new questions.

Feeling incredibly stifled, she ran over to her older brother, who was practicing calligraphy, and tugged on his sleeve. "Brother, I have some questions to ask you."

She clung to a glimmer of hope. Perhaps it was just because she was too young to know the answers. Her brother was much older and had read many more books; he should know.

Jian Hang felt a headache coming on. This little girl’s questions were always tricky, and he wasn't sure if he could answer them. Still, it was a blessing that she hadn't cried while reading this volume.

"Go ahead, what questions are bothering you so much? But first, if I can’t answer them, you aren't allowed to cry," Jian Hang stipulated in advance.

She wasn't a three-year-old who would cry, Jian Tong stomped her foot in annoyance, but since she needed his help, she had to suppress her temper and be submissive.

She opened her little mouth and began to reel off her questions one by one.

"Brother, why does Grandmother Wang dislike Wang Erlang and treat his family so harshly?"

"Why did Wang Er and his wife ignore Er-ya because of a child that didn't even exist yet?"

...

"And Wang Erlang said that reading is for marrying into a good family; does that mean men have to marry into good families too?"

The barrage of questions left Jian Tong’s throat dry and Jian Hang’s head spinning.

Jian Tong finished all her questions in one breath and stared at Jian Hang, waiting for his answer.

Jian Hang rubbed his temples in frustration, not knowing how to respond. Could the issues involved be explained in a moment? Moreover, the human affairs and worldly wisdom involved were complex—were they things he could tell a little child like Jian Tong? Not to mention that her questions were extremely sharp; some of them he truly couldn't answer.

So, meeting Jian Tong’s expectant gaze, he bit the bullet and said, "I don't know either."

The sparkling light in Jian Tong’s eyes dimmed instantly; she was one step away from saying, "Brother, you are so useless."

She didn't say it directly, but the expression on her face spelled it out clearly. She sighed in disappointment and said, "Then give me paper and a brush. I want to write a letter."

"To whom are you writing?" Jian Hang asked, puzzled. Could it be that this little girl had her own social circle?

"To Master Yueming, of course. If you don't know, surely someone else does." Jian Tong pouted, lifting her chin in defiance.

Jian Hang’s mouth twitched. He was helpless against this sister who was always coming up with new ideas, so he could only provide the paper and brush as she wished. He served her like a servant, preparing the ink.

***

Xu Chengyue had quite a bit of ingenuity when designing her characters and plot.

Grandmother Wang was a quintessential shrewish village woman. To her, the most important thing was the continuation of the family line, because when she was young, that was her duty. Once she was released from that, she automatically passed the task to her three daughters-in-law, and her own duty became supervising them. As for the second branch, who had failed to produce a male heir, she showed no kindness. Of course, there was also the fact that, in her mind, a family without male descendants lacked standing and could be bullied at will.

Old Man Wang was even easier to explain. He hid behind everyone else as the ultimate feudal patriarch of the Wang family. To him, he was the center of the world, and everyone existed to serve him. He could not accept disobedience from his descendants, and he would act impatiently to suppress Wang Er, who exhibited behaviors beyond his understanding.

As for Wang Erlang, he appeared to be a filial son and a virtuous descendant, enduring the exploitation of his parents until he was pushed to the brink and chose to resist because his daughter was suffering such humiliation.

But was that really the case? No.

Influenced by his parents and feeling inferior because he had no son, he saw himself as a rootless duckweed that needed to rely on his brothers’ families. Yet, he did not feel his status in the family was particularly low. Because of his parents’ long-term brainwashing, he believed they were doing everything for his own good and for his future.

But Wang Xiaoliu’s words completely shattered that perception. He realized that his status in the family was so low that even his young nephew could step on him without a second thought.

This hit his bottom line and trampled on his self-esteem, which is why he chose to resist and suggested splitting the family—to test if he was truly as dispensable as it seemed. But the answer he received was destined to disappoint him.

However, words spoken were like water spilled; they could not be taken back, and he was forced to accept it.

Now, thanks to Wang Er-ya’s divine master, he had begun to value his daughter, and because he had earned money from the recipe, he had gained self-confidence.

But for a man like him, the deeply ingrained concepts held for over thirty years could not be shaken or changed by just a few minor events. In his heart, what he wanted most was still a son—that was his foundation. As for Wang Er-ya, she was currently a form of capital to him, and he was a man who knew how to adapt to circumstances.

***

That day, Xu Chengyue received a special letter.

Judging by the phrasing and sentence structure, it was from a young girl who had read quite a few books. Her writing was still a bit immature, and the questions she asked were quite innocent and simple. She must be a girl from an aristocratic family who had not suffered much hardship.

At the same time, she was quite sharp and empathetic, noticing several phenomena reflected in the story.

In all honesty, Xu Chengyue had not intended to express any feminist ideas or satire of social phenomena in this novel. The characters she created were merely for the sake of conflict to make the plot more engaging and satisfying, all to stir the readers’ emotions.

The preference for sons over daughters and parental favoritism were tired, overused points of conflict in the rural and historical novels of her past life, so they were naturally the first things that came to mind when she wrote.

She had not expected, however, that a little girl would notice these things and go on to draw out deeper questions.

The writing was quite childlike, and in the letter, she affectionately referred to the protagonist, Wang Er-ya, as "Sister Er-ya."

Seeing this, Xu Chengyue’s heart softened. She could almost picture a little girl with twin buns, sitting at her desk with righteous indignation, recording these words on paper, and waiting for her reply.