Her Cultivation Diary
Chapter 1037 - 1017. Grandfathers’ Padded Cotton Pants

Chapter 1037: 1017. Grandfathers’ Padded Cotton Pants

Lao Zhu was completely unfazed, stepping forward directly: "Yes, Zu Jun is my granddaughter... These guys next to me are my sworn brothers from my younger days, plus some of our relatives... We’ve thickened our skin to bring so many people this time, sorry to bother you all!"

"Oh, come on!" Wu Lan didn’t think twice: "What are you talking about? Secretary Xiaozu is family, everyone here is a relative... Quick, quick, quick, it’s cold outside, let’s get inside! We even fired up the stove in the big room today."

Probably because they had been sitting in the car for a long time, the guests were wearing rather light clothing. Wu Lan, concerned, asked, "Did you bring warm clothes? If not, I can lend you a few pairs of quilted cotton pants to wear?"

We’ve got dozens of pairs at home, all prepared to be given out before the New Year—they haven’t been distributed yet!

As everyone was being ushered indoors, the sound of a car engine echoed again. The fifth identical black Audi slowly pulled to a stop at the courtyard gate.

When the car parked, Lao Song’s family couldn’t help but feel a little stunned. The driver got out, standing ramrod straight, and smoothly opened the backdoor, one hand bracing the car roof.

The motion was fluid and natural, as if he had done it eight hundred times before—it left everyone wide-eyed in amazement.

Wow! They lived in the village all year round; they’d never seen junior family members serving their elders like this. So filial! But somehow, it felt... a little off.

Song Sancheng glanced skeptically at the row of elderly men and their equally rigidly postured youthful companions, thinking to himself that Secretary Xiaozu’s sworn brothers’ children didn’t seem to resemble them at all!

Just as he was about to exchange pleasantries, one of the old men ahead let out a hearty laugh: "Lao Zhu, you’re truly treating this girl as if she’s your biological granddaughter! Your granddaughter’s been waiting by the roadside for you, and you didn’t even recognize her! Now Xiaojun’s almost crying in anger."

The courtyard instantly burst into lively chatter.

Lao Zhu: ??? What was that?

Wasn’t my granddaughter dark and skinny even through video calls in summer? Where did we bump into her along the way?

Looking outside the courtyard again, suddenly he spotted a familiar-looking girl wrapped in a thick cotton coat, stomping furiously toward them. Her fair pink skin and round face made her look like someone he just saw—so familiar!

"Hiss!" Lao Zhu drew in a sharp breath!

As Secretary Xiaozu marched over with a stern face, a group of grandpas immediately surrounded her: "Woah! It’s been a while since we saw Xiaojun looking so fair and lucky!"

"Jun-Jun, has your personal problem been resolved yet? Grandpa’s got a grandson..."

"Xiaojun’s gotten prettier! Haven’t seen her for years—we nearly didn’t recognize her!"

"That’s right, Xiaojun used to spend every day up on the mountain, then took a job outside for years, we haven’t seen her much..."

Zu Jun smirked sarcastically: "Nobody recognized me... Alright, alright, everyone here’s family, no need for formalities. Grandpa, I think your down jackets look warm enough, but those pants won’t cut it. Let me take you to your lodging to change clothes first?"

"Sounds good!"

Lao Zhu hurriedly gave instructions: "Xiaodu, you’ll go up the mountain with us—switch your clothes too. Didn’t I pack a pair of wool pants?"

"Wool pants, seriously?" Wu Lan finally cut through the chaotic conversation: "Uncle, you’re here to hang out in the village; don’t wear pricey stuff. If it gets burnt or ripped, you’ll feel terrible."

She insisted again: "I’ll give you guys some quilted cotton pants instead—they’re really warm, and durable too."

"Sure thing!" The last to arrive, Old Man Li, was particularly easygoing: "My pants are all bought by the kids; they’re fancy, but I feel uncomfortable everywhere I go in them... Quilted cotton pants sound great, give me one!"

Nobody was picky, and they weren’t planning to stay quietly in the village for long. Everyone agreed.

Wu Lan headed inside cheerfully to rummage through the storage trunks, leaving Song Sancheng to watch as the younger generation began opening car trunks and pulling out piles of stuff.

Cigarettes, liquor, cordyceps, bird’s nest, ginseng...

All the boxes were exquisitely packaged, especially the ginseng. Through the transparent cases, the roots were fixed in display positions. Their mannerisms suggested they were bringing the gifts to him.

Song Sancheng was utterly stunned!

What kind of family would give him such gifts? How could he ever repay this level of favor? And these cigarettes and liquors—they were top-shelf brands! What was going on here?

Feeling tense, he noticed Xiaodu already lugging several bags toward him and quickly dodged: "What are you doing? What are you doing!"

Lao Zhu, however, chuckled pleasantly: "Don’t overthink it, don’t overthink it."

He took the bags from Xiaodu’s hands and handed them straight to Song Sancheng: "Our Xiaojun’s gotten quite a lot of help from the village. Us showing up here inconveniences you... It’d feel awkward not to give you anything. These were given to us, and nobody’s eating them back home anyway—they’ll just go bad... Where should I put them?"

Wu Lan was coming out with the quilted cotton pants when she saw the courtyard in a festive uproar. She couldn’t help but pause.

Right then, Song Tan emerged from the kitchen—

"This pickled cabbage is amazing!"

In the dead of winter, she wore only a sweater, sleeves rolled high to reveal her snow-white forearms.

But everyone’s attention wasn’t on her arms—it was firmly fixed on her hands.

She was holding a limp stalk of pickled cabbage, its white stems and yellow leaves drenched in juice as if it had just been pulled from the vat.

Right in front of everyone’s eyes, Song Tan tore off a piece and popped it straight into her mouth...

"Gulp."

You couldn’t tell who quietly swallowed a mouthful of saliva.

That pickled cabbage looked so delicious! Why else would this young lady keep eating it, piece after piece, finishing it in just three bites flat?

She then shouted toward the kitchen: "Seventh Uncle, fish out a few more—I think these are the best eaten as-is, no need to stir-fry!"

Then Qiaoqiao burst out of the kitchen too, holding pickled ginger in one hand and pickled radish in the other: "Sister, these are tasty too! Which one do you want?"

He froze briefly, then spotted Secretary Xiaozu in the crowd, his face lighting up with brilliant joy:

"Sister Secretary! Are all these your grandpas? Wow, and you’ve got so many brothers too!"

He was so envious!

Especially those brothers who were bustling about with massive bags; they looked strong and diligent—something entirely different from his own cousins.

With Qiaoqiao’s interruption, Secretary Xiaozu quickly regained her footing, pushing open the living room door:

"Come, come, come, put everything in this room."

As soon as she spoke, the long-legged and slender-waisted young men stepped forward at once. Without breaking into a jog, they somehow managed to move at lightning speed, stacking the items neatly by the wall in a long row.

Song Sancheng barely had time to say a word before Secretary Xiaozu grabbed a few quilted cotton pants from Wu Lan:

"Auntie, when do we eat? Let me take Grandpa and the others up the mountain to change clothes first."

Wu Lan hesitated, instinctively replying: "It’s still early; around six o’clock should be fine."