“Mom, did something happen to Little Brian today? Why does this kid seem a bit strange to me!” Brian Carter’s father asked as he entered the room, still puzzled by Brian Carter’s odd behavior. As a teacher, he was good at reading his students’ expressions, and the same went for his own son, but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what was off, so he could only ask Brian Carter’s grandmother.

“It was Henry Brooks who brought him back, didn’t hear of anything happening! The kid is different today, came home and just sat in the yard, wouldn’t even drink the cake flour when I offered. You didn’t scare him when you took him to kindergarten this morning, did you?” Brian Carter’s grandmother was good at shifting blame; whenever something was wrong with Brian Carter, she’d quickly find a way to connect it to his father.

“I didn’t even talk to him this morning, and he didn’t say he didn’t want to go to kindergarten. He even said he was going to a parade today and asked me to find his new shirt for him to wear.” Brian Carter’s father couldn’t argue with his mother-in-law, so he could only defend himself.

“I know what happened—he got his new shirt dirty and is afraid of getting a beating from his brother-in-law, so he’s pretending to be well-behaved!” Brian Carter’s Aunt Bennett was pretty sharp. She noticed the white shirt Brian Carter had left on the bed was covered in little black spots and immediately exposed her nephew. For this mischievous nephew, nothing made Aunt Bennett happier than seeing him get punished, though such chances were rare.

“This kid, already got his new shirt dirty. What is this stuff? Where did the ink come from!” Brian Carter’s father took the shirt and looked it over, seeming to understand why Brian Carter was acting so strange today.

“Oh, it’s just a shirt. If it’s dirty, it’s dirty. Emily Long, take it and wash it, use more soap, and if that doesn’t work, use some baking soda. Just get it clean and it’ll be fine.” Brian Carter’s grandfather, seeing his grandson was about to get in trouble, quickly stepped in to protect him, and at the same time assigned the laundry to Aunt Bennett, blaming her for being too talkative.

“Making me do chores again… I still have homework!” Aunt Bennett hadn’t expected she’d end up on the losing end. She pouted, but didn’t dare disobey her father, so she reluctantly pulled the washbasin out from under the bed, getting ready to wash Brian Carter’s clothes.

“Auntie, let me wash it myself. Here’s more than half a sugar twist, I ate a little, and this is for you and my Little Uncle Carter.” Brian Carter felt awkward staying in the room and wanted to use the laundry as an excuse to run out to the yard and think about how to escape the fate of going to kindergarten.

“Go on, go play. Like you know how to wash clothes! It’d be a miracle if you didn’t ruin them. And don’t eat yet, we’re about to have dinner. Hurry up and wash!” Grandma grabbed Brian Carter and brought him back, put the basin back in Aunt Bennett’s hands, and took the sugar twist from her as well, placing it on the counter.

“Favoring boys over girls! Old-fashioned!” Aunt Bennett was first stunned by Brian Carter’s actions and words, and just as she was about to take a bite of the sweet sugar twist, her mom snatched it away.

Still just a teenager herself, Aunt Bennett was almost in tears, angrily hugging the washbasin as she went out. As for that more-than-half sugar twist, Aunt Bennett knew she wouldn’t get to eat it. Soon her younger brother, Brian Carter’s Little Uncle Carter, would come home and get it all. As for the rule about not eating snacks before dinner, it only applied to her; when it came to the boys in the family, it was immediately ignored.

“Little Brian, come here, have a taste, hehehe… Is it spicy?” The head of the household was back. Whether or not to cook dumplings could wait; with the cold dishes and wine glasses set on the table, Grandpa started drinking by himself. Brian Carter’s father just smoked without drinking, sitting on the bed reading the newspaper. Brian Carter was held on his grandfather’s lap, and his grandfather dipped the tip of his chopsticks in white liquor to let the child taste it. This was Grandpa’s favorite moment of the day.

“Dad, don’t give the kid alcohol, he’s too young!” Brian Carter’s father didn’t even look up, already knowing what the old man was up to. But he couldn’t do anything about Brian Carter’s Grandpa; he brought it up almost every day, but the old man never changed, never even admitted it was wrong.

“A real man can’t even drink? Don’t be like you, smoking all day! Drinking promotes circulation, what good is smoking? Your wife’s a doctor, ask her!” Sure enough, Brian Carter’s father was once again silenced by Brian Carter’s Grandpa, and went back to reading his newspaper, not daring to say another word.

“Dad! Mom! Brother-in-law! My sister’s back! And she brought a lot of stuff, she’s right at the entrance of the alley!” The door was suddenly flung open, and Aunt Bennett, hands covered in soap suds, stood at the doorway shouting into the house.

“I’ll go take a look!” As soon as Brian Carter’s Grandma heard her second daughter was back, she tossed aside the rolling pin and hurried to the door on her tiny feet.

“What are you going for! Henry Brooks, go pick up your sister!” The old man didn’t even move from his seat, just shouted toward the kitchen, and Brian Carter’s Uncle Carter slouched off, unwillingly sent on the errand.

“Mom… Dad… I brought back some fish, and some sunflower seeds and hawthorn.” Brian Carter’s mother walked in from outside, sweating, with Uncle Carter and Aunt Bennett each dragging a big burlap sack behind her from the yard into the house—it looked heavy.

“Wife, let’s cook the dumplings first. It’s not easy for Olivia Long to come all this way. Olivia Long, where are you coming back from?” The old man, seeing his daughter like this, felt a bit sorry for her and, for once, allowed the main meal before finishing his drink.