TTPAC [QT] Chapter 57.5

Wang Bu also asked in a low voice, “Didn’t you say that Tongtong’s brain was damaged?”

He didn’t think that was the case.

She seemed slow and silent, but also much more mature, and no longer cried or made a fuss.

Wen Shuying shook his head, poured the chopped chili peppers into the pot, and stir-fried them with the meat.

Looking at the fragrant pot, Wang Bu didn’t think too much about it.

Shutong smelled the fragrance, coughed lightly twice, and looked up.

In her memory, the two siblings had always lived a nomadic life with their mother. Since their mother couldn’t come home on time, Wen Shuying was always the one who cooked.

Steamed buns, vegetable soup, and stir-fried pork with chili peppers—this was their first relatively normal dinner.

Finally, the little gluttonous Tongtong scraped the vegetable juice off the steamed bun on the small aluminum plate and then stuffed the bun into her little mouth.

Wang Bu and Wen Shuying looked at her puffed-up cheeks and lively grape-like eyes, and both burst out laughing, a rare occurrence for them.

Shutong didn’t care about saving face; she was genuinely hungry.

The chilly autumn night came quickly, and it suddenly started raining outside. Luckily, the bamboo shed had been reinforced and repaired; otherwise, they definitely wouldn’t have been able to sleep well tonight.

Shutong had saved up two yuan by collecting scraps. Since they were all small change, she had a thick wad of it, which she hid in a snack bag and then put in her small purse.

Every night before going to bed, she would listen to Wen Shuying read aloud while counting her money, looking every bit like a little money-grubber.

At the same time, Wen Shuying also discovered that his little sister was not stupid; she might even be a genius.

Because she could already read and write, and even write poetry.

The writing, though somewhat immature and whimsical, was surprisingly impressive.

He tried to write down the stories she casually told him, which were even more shocking.

Although Wang Bu didn’t understand anything, he pointed to the children’s literature magazine and said, “How about we try submitting it?”

Wang Bu was also learning to read, but his level was far inferior to Shutong’s. He had heard Wen Shuying read this magazine and had also heard Shutong tell stories. He felt that Shutong’s stories were better than those in the magazine.

“My sister is a genius.” Wen Shuying said in a low voice.

“Hu hu¹呼呼, hū​hū: (onom.) sound of the wind or the breathing of sb who is sound asleep …”

He heard his little sister snoring. She caught a cold from being out in the wind these past couple of days, and her nose was full of bubbles.

Wang Bu: “Oh, the genius is blowing her nose.”

Wen Shuying: “…”

Wang Bu handed her a piece of tissue paper.

Wen Shuying took it, wiped Shutong’s nose, covered her with a heavy blanket, and made up his mind.

***

Wen Shuying sent two manuscripts under the pen name ‘Tongtong’ and also told Shutong about it.

This was exactly what Shutong wanted to do; she was just wondering how to explain to him that she had submitted an article to the newspaper.

Two weeks later, Shutong received replies from three newspapers. Each reply included notifications of acceptance of her manuscript and payment.

The 1980s were a prosperous era for literature, but now in the 1990s, prices were rising, making payment for articles seem rather low.

Moreover, Shutong only wrote poems, the shortest being three lines and the longest being eight lines, so the total royalties she received were only twenty yuan.

However, twenty yuan was still a considerable sum for her, and she didn’t worry about the stamp she’d spent.

That evening, Shutong handed the envelope and money to her brother, explaining casually, “Little Fatty sent it for me, and I didn’t know.”

While Shutong was fast asleep, wrapped in her blanket, Wen Shuying and Wang Bu huddled around the small table, counting the twenty yuan carefully. It wasn’t until late at night that the two of them finally fell asleep, feeling uneasy.

After that day, Wen Shuying waited in front of the mailbox at the construction site every day.

Wen Shuying submitted his articles and used this address.

The magazine’s review process was strict, and the response was slow.

As the weather grew colder, after the first snow, Wen Shuying received several letters in succession, all of which had been accepted for publication.

Wen Shuying filled in her mother’s bank account number, and the remittance slip was sent with the magazine.

Wang Bu dressed maturely and went to the bank to withdraw all the money, 360 yuan, which felt like a hot stone falling into his pocket.

From afar, he watched the two siblings waiting for him on the opposite street, thinking to himself that if he ran away with the money, the two siblings would never be able to find him.

 

 

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