I Got Rich in Period Fiction
Chapter 292 Disdain

Chapter 292: Chapter 292 Disdain

Time passed by three days in a state of Wu Xiucai’s ceaseless regret, self-persuasion, more regret, and further self-persuasion.

Qiao Qingyu was well aware of her Grandpa Wu Xiucai’s feelings at this moment—her maternal grandfather’s emotions.

She took her grandpa around the village, went fishing with him by the unfrozen river, and set up a big pot in the courtyard to cook potatoes and corn together, filling the air with the sweet aroma of corn.

Even their meals were around a table set upon the heated brick bed. It all looked lively and warm, but Wu Xiucai truly wasn’t accustomed to it.

Even during the war-torn years, he had never lived like this, and despite being adrift overseas, he had never suffered this much.

Yet his daughter felt perfectly at home here. He was neither pleased nor happy, just uncomfortable.

So it was said, old Wu Xiucai was like the weather—changing from sunny to cloudy, good to bad, laughing one moment and crying the next, upsetting everyone’s hearts.

Qiao Qingyu knew that it wasn’t realistic to expect Wu Xiucai to accept everything right away.

Moreover, the environment Wu Xiucai came from was indeed not comparable to their current rural setting; even if you had the best life in the countryside, it wouldn’t be strange to only have a three-room brick house with furniture and perhaps a bicycle.

But for Wu Xiucai, he was a tycoon with corporate groups, large factories, vast estates, and even his own private hospitals.

His standard of living was extraordinarily high—a level so high that even Qiao Qingyu, who was considered wealthy, had to look up to it.

In the words favored by future generations, "You can’t imagine the life of the rich."

Qiao Qingyu understood that because of this stark contrast, there were a million possibilities in Wu Xiucai’s mind that couldn’t compare to the shock of reality.

Even if Qiao Zhicai’s house was nice, it was still half-brick, half-mud. The inside of the house might be clean, but the ground was just a black earth floor polished by wear.

A sweeping would raise dust all over the place.

The cabinets had been used for decades, and so had the mirrors. Basins and towels were communal, and the house lacked even a decent set of teaware.

The walls were papered with newspapers, and although the bed coverings were relatively clean, they clearly weren’t new.

It was said that life was better now, so what kind of life had his daughter lived back then...?

What was supposed to be a joyous reunion left everyone feeling uneasy.

With his age—over seventy—what can you say? You have no choice but to listen to whatever he says.

Luckily, Qiao Qingyu was by his side.

These past few days, Wu Xiucai did not express many opinions. Most of what he talked about was sharing stories about Lin Wanjun with Han Xianglan, recounting the few happy years when they were a family of three.

Other times, he would just chat with Qiao Mubao or his two little great-grandchildren.

Qiao Genbao, who looked too much like Qiao Zhicai, angered Wu Xiucai just by appearing before him.

All of Qiao Genbao’s beautiful fantasies about his grandfather were shattered by the cruel reality; he didn’t even dare to approach the old man.

For instance, Qiao Genbao had a habit of smoking dry tobacco. Using the squared paper that his son finished his homework on, he’d cut strips to wrap around tobacco leaves, roll them up, light up for a draw, and squat by the corner of a wall to bask in the sun while smoking, thoroughly enjoying himself.

This was the basic routine for any cigarette smoker in the countryside.

It was so commonplace, no one thought there was a problem or fault with it.

But when he squatted in the corner, hardly taking a couple of puffs, the old man appeared before him like a ghost, watching him calmly without even a frown.

Yet he knew the old man despised his squatting by the wall.

The old man scorned him for smoking low-quality dry tobacco.

The old man even disapproved of the way he smacked his lips while smoking...

But he enjoyed smoking his dry tobacco. Those fancy cigarettes that the old man brought, with filters—where was the flavor in those?

Fortunately, his elder father really liked his son and daughter, which brought him some balance in his heart.

Alas, when the old man was suffering, so was he and his own father.

Now, there was no one who did not envy or try to curry favor with him, yet deep down he knew that his family’s life was definitely not the same as before.

According to Uncle Wu Tai, the old man’s assets were counted in the billions.

Billions, he could not even imagine how much that was.

Anyway, it was a lot, so much that you could eat meat and drink wine every day and not run out for a lifetime.

But he missed the past when times were hard yet unrestrained.

Alas, talking too much about it only brought tears, and he didn’t dare show it, because if people found out, he would be scolded as shameless.

After resting for a few days, Wu Xiucai prepared to take Han Xianglan and his children back to Yun City.

He didn’t want to bring Qiao Zhicai, and he even thought about taking Han Xianglan straight back to the M country.

Fifty-something, old?

Not old, very young!

He could even find his daughter a handsome young man.

Finding a son-in-law to take care of them in their old age would work too, wouldn’t there be countless people rushing forward eagerly?

Of course, these dark thoughts were just passing notions in old man Wu Xiucai’s heart; he couldn’t bring himself to do something so tasteless, especially with Qiao Qingyu, the girl who seemed to see right through his thoughts, making him feel embarrassed at times. His preference for wealth over poverty was too obvious.

In fact, he also knew that, no matter what, the Qiao Family had given his daughter a home, a place to shelter from the wind and rain.

And indeed, the Qiao Family treated his daughter well.

But then again, his daughter was literate, sensible, and filial. To not treat such a good woman well would be inhuman.

Thinking this, Wu Xiucai also thought of the He Family and was surprised that the He Family had let his daughter study with He Shan.

Only later did too many things happen.

He had met He Shan a few times, and He Shan had shown him much respect.

But He Shan...

What could have been and the past were not to be dwelled on; one could only say that perhaps everything was predestined.

So, before leaving, Wu Xiucai also wanted to find out what kind of person it was who sold his daughter to the He Family back then.

Old Lady He knew this day would come and had been waiting for it.

Wu Xiucai had found his biological daughter, and she was the person who bought his daughter.

How could he not come and ask what the situation was back then?

But in reality, she had already forgotten many details, yet she tried hard to remember, tried hard to think, preparing for when Wu Xiucai arrived so she would know what to say.

This was the fifth day since Wu Xiucai acknowledged his daughter.

After eating breakfast, Qiao Qingyu accompanied Wu Xiucai to Hejia Village.

This time they were more low-key; the car stopped at the entrance of the village.

Of course, that was also because the roads in the village were simply too narrow for cars to enter.

If one were to measure the level of poverty, the Qiao Family Team from before and Hejia Village were similar.

But now, in just over a short year, the difference had become quite significant.