This was the first time the sun had come out in ten days. David Thompson cheered, leapt off the kang, and ran outside barefoot. Golden sunlight flooded the courtyard, birds chirped merrily in the trees, and the air, washed clean of its usual damp chill, felt especially fresh and warm, carrying a hint of earthiness.

David Thompson greedily took a few deep breaths of the warm air before reluctantly returning to his room. The door to the side room was half open, just enough to see the unfilled dirt pit in the corner. Only then did he remember—his father had said he had something to do today. It turned out he had gone to enroll him in school.

In truth, David Thompson wasn’t very interested in going to the village school. He could imagine what it would be like: a few villages pooling money to hire an old scholar with a goatee, leading a group of children in reciting the Four Books and Five Classics all day long, heads bobbing back and forth. David Thompson felt that the teacher might not even be better than himself.

What annoyed him even more was that his father had taken ten strings of cash to pay the tuition. That was money his father had painstakingly saved, coin by coin—money that could have bought piles of delicious syrup cakes. David Thompson sighed and stuffed a few vegetable buns from the battered pot into his stomach.

Just then, a cheerful voice came from outside, “Little Grace, slow down! The ground is slippery, don’t fall.”

Immediately after, a little girl with pigtails bounced into the courtyard. “Silly Second Brother, Grandma and I came to see you!”

It was as if the sunlight pierced straight through David Thompson’s chest, warming him from the inside out.

“I’m here! Ah—wait a second…”

He had just run into the yard when he hurriedly turned back to put on his shoes… and his pants.

A little girl in a floral jacket covered her mouth and giggled, “Grandma, Silly Second Brother isn’t wearing pants—his little butt is bare!”

After a long moment, David Thompson finally came out, face red, shuffling his feet. He had just gone out without pants on, swaggering around.

The grandmother and granddaughter in the yard were his neighbors, Mrs. Harris and her granddaughter Grace Harris. Mrs. Harris used to raise quite a few chickens, but now only two hens were left, thanks to a pack of weasels in the village.

Fortunately, Dahei had caught the weasels one by one. Mrs. Harris was especially fond of Dahei and often gave it some leftovers.

Her granddaughter Grace Harris was three years old this year, though in David Thompson’s eyes, she was really only about two, but she was very clever and lively, with a rosy, apple-like face. She loved to play with David Thompson the most. Although her mother worried that her daughter would become silly from hanging around him and didn’t want her visiting, Mrs. Harris liked David Thompson very much and always brought her granddaughter over, each time bringing a little something for David Thompson to eat.

Mrs. Harris took a warm egg from her basket and handed it to David Thompson with a kindly smile. “Just boiled it—eat it while it’s hot!”

“Thank you, Auntie!”

David Thompson accepted the egg a little shyly and put it in his pocket.

Mrs. Harris smiled and patted the back of his head. “What’s wrong, can’t bear to eat it?”

“Silly Second Brother, eat it! When you’re done, I have another one for you.” Little Grace grinned and stuffed another egg into his hand.

David Thompson peeled the shell and slowly ate the egg, his nose tingling with emotion. He had been a bit too sentimental these past few days.

“Silly Second Brother, tell me the rest of the story! Did the Red Boy catch Tang Monk?”

“Alright! I’ll keep telling you.”

David Thompson pulled Little Grace to sit with him on the threshold and continued telling her the story of Sun Wukong’s battle with the Red Boy. But before long, David Thompson remembered something weighing on his mind.

He patted Little Grace’s hand. “Second Brother has something to ask your grandma. I’ll finish the story in a bit.”

“What do you want to ask, Brother Qing?”

“Auntie, does my father… owe a lot of money outside?”

Last night, his father’s mutterings had let David Thompson know the reason for their poverty: his father had debts to pay.

Mrs. Harris sighed. “Your father owes Master Li a large sum. When your mother passed away, he had to buy a burial plot, a coffin, and hold the funeral. Altogether, it cost five hundred strings of cash, all borrowed from Master Li. That’s why your father went to take care of Master Li’s horses—to pay off the debt. Sometimes he also copies books for the book society in the county to earn money. He’s been both father and mother to you, raising you for four years. It hasn’t been easy.”

David Thompson was silent. He had always wondered why his father, clearly a member of the Li clan, had to do servant’s work. Now he understood. It had taken his father years to save just ten strings of cash—how long would it take to pay off five hundred?

Mrs. Harris looked at this unfortunate child with deep sympathy. Five hundred strings! With such high interest every year, the two of them would never be able to pay it off in their lifetimes.

Mrs. Harris also didn’t understand why a funeral would cost five hundred strings. Most poor families couldn’t save that much in a lifetime. But she never asked—she knew there must be more to the story.

Beside her, Little Grace lifted her rosy face and said, “Grandma, let’s help Silly Second Brother pay back the money!”

Mrs. Harris lovingly patted her granddaughter’s pigtails. “Silly child, that’s so much money—our family couldn’t pay it back either!”

Just then, the courtyard gate banged open. Little Grace’s father, John Harris, came in carrying someone on his back, covered in blood.

“Daddy!”

David Thompson suddenly stood up. He recognized the person on John Harris’s back—it was his own father, Brian Thompson.