Chapter 71: Skill Breeds Courage

Li Sheng was bold because he was skilled; as a child, he had learned a few moves from someone, and he had great physical strength. That was why he had taken up this line of work. Over the years, he had encountered several accidents—some big, some small—but each time, he had been lucky enough to escape unharmed.

In truth, he had been injured before; scars from old knife wounds still marked his body. At night, when they lay in bed, his wife would trace those scars in silence, tears slipping down her face. In such moments, Li Sheng vowed to earn more money, so his wife could have a better life. He also resolved to take better care of himself, for only in good health could he stay by her side for years to come.

This time, the danger had been real. He had listened to his wife and not tried to play the hero. Later, he heard from others that the assailants had been a gang, all armed with weapons. Escaping unscathed this time was a blessing and the result of his wife's wise counsel, but Li Sheng knew he might not always be so fortunate in the future. So he decided that when he returned, he would discuss everything with his wife and carefully plan a better future for the whole family.

While Li Sheng worked hard for his family’s future, Tang Xin was equally busy at home—everyone in the household was learning, and there was much to do. Though the days were hectic and chaotic, and some family members needed to be coaxed with the promise of money or other incentives, Tang Xin found true contentment in her efforts. The thought that she was working for Li Sheng’s family filled her with a warm, sweet happiness; just thinking of him gave her energy and motivation.

Still, Tang Xin knew she would have to discuss these matters with Li Sheng once he returned. Teaching the family to read and write had been a spontaneous decision, but she did not regret it and intended to persevere with determination. After several days, the initial excitement faded and everyone’s individual weaknesses began to surface.

Li Sheng’s father, mother, and Old Gu were doing reasonably well; as adults, their characters were already formed, and who knew what future achievements they might have. Of course, Tang Xin would never look down on them, but she understood that in Li Sheng’s heart, they were elders he was duty-bound to care for in the future.

It was the younger siblings who were truly Li Sheng’s responsibility, the ones who might achieve a better future through learning. So, when the three elders made slow but earnest progress, Tang Xin never complained. She continued to encourage them warmly.

But when it came to Li Kai, Li Xiyue, Li Jiang, Li Hai, and Gu Nan, Tang Xin could only sigh.

At times, she even wanted to pick up a teacher’s cane and give them a good thrashing. Without discipline, how could jade be polished into a gem? She was thoroughly exasperated with their lack of diligence.

Li Xiyue was the most typical case. Clever and full of mischief, she found learning easy—whether it was language or mathematics, she grasped concepts instantly, could infer new ideas from old, and progressed rapidly. Only the quick-witted Gu Nan could match her in this regard.

Yet Li Xiyue’s greatest flaw was her utilitarian approach to learning. She would only study things she deemed useful; if she thought something pointless, she would refuse to learn it. Back when the educated youth came to the countryside, Li Xiyue had even set her sights on Lu Liqin, determined to find herself an outstanding man in the future.

By comparison, Li Kai was also decent, but he was a bit one-sided in his learning. He was fine with mathematics—once the problems were explained, he understood them—but language studies were a struggle. Reading comprehension, sentence construction, and essay writing were agony for him. He was articulate when speaking, his tongue as nimble as a silver bell, but when it came to writing, he could not express his thoughts at all. Pen in hand, he looked perfectly serious, but the words he wrote were painful to behold.

Perhaps they had missed the best window for learning; teaching the older children was no easier than teaching the younger ones, and at times, it was even more troublesome. The younger brothers learned from their teachers at school, earned rewards and pocket money, and came home to play the role of “little teachers” for their older siblings with great enthusiasm.

Fortunately, up to this point, everyone in the family had a good attitude towards learning. No one expected them to become top scholars; it was simply about gaining more knowledge for themselves, to learn bit by bit over time. With steady accumulation, Tang Xin felt that even if they could not become learned people, at least they would not be completely ignorant.

After breakfast, the family went off to work or school, while Tang Xin and her mother-in-law stayed behind to make steamed buns and prepare lunch. Along the way, Tang Xin continued to teach her mother-in-law to read. She had to admit, she had underestimated the woman’s intelligence and perseverance.

Madam Fang was the type who, once she set her mind to something, would give it her all and strive to do her best. After several days of lessons, she had learned more characters than the two old men.

When Tang Xin first married into the family, they ate white steamed buns and rice every meal, but that did not last. They soon had to mix in coarse grains—cornmeal, soybean flour, sorghum flour, even sweet potato flour—to make the steamed buns and corn cakes. Tang Xin had tried it once, and the taste… was truly indescribable. Heaven help her—people in later times would claim that coarse grains were healthy and sell corn cakes for more than white steamed buns, but of course, those “healthy” cakes were refined and carefully made, not at all like these rough ones.

For the thousandth time, Tang Xin silently thanked her greatest cheat in this time-traveling life—the space farm. Without it, if she had to eat coarse grains every day, she might end up in the headlines as the first pampered daughter-in-law to starve herself out of pickiness during a famine!

Madam Fang saw how much Tang Xin disliked the coarse cakes and, feeling sorry for her, offered to make her some white steamed buns: “Let me make you something with white flour. The rest of us can stick to the coarse grains.” But Tang Xin shook her head. She never liked the idea of the family eating separate meals. “Why can’t everyone eat white flour?” she asked.

Last time, she had handed over nearly twenty pounds of rice and flour for her mother-in-law to keep—surely enough for the family for several days? Madam Fang laughed heartily, not the least embarrassed, and said straight out, “With so many people in the family, how could we all eat white flour? We’re already living better than most. Many families can’t even afford a few meals with meat in an entire year.”

Tang Xin was embarrassed; clearly, she hadn’t thought things through. She should find a way to bring out more of the space farm’s stored crops. An idea occurred to her, and she told Madam Fang, “It’s all right, Mother. Next month my family will send more money, food coupons, and supplies.”

But Madam Fang only shook her head. “We can’t have the whole family living off just you. You grew up with good things, so it’s normal for you to feel unaccustomed here. Save your good food for yourself. Don’t worry about the rest of us—we’ve eaten coarse grains since childhood; it’s nothing to us.” She smiled at her daughter-in-law, adding, “I know what you’re thinking, but don’t worry. Everyone understands. Giving you special treatment is only right.”