Volume One, Chapter 8: Little Tiger—So Moved for My Mom, He Truly Cried

Back home, Ye Cheng's stomach was already growling; he regretted not having eaten at his brother and sister-in-law’s place earlier.

Sigh, he was being a bit too particular.

Looking around the house, the clams he had gathered during the day were still fresh, each one gaping open in the basin. Freshly dug, none were dead.

Tonight, this would be the meal.

The house was somewhat sparse, but at least there was a gas cylinder and a stove.

Ye Cheng washed the pot thoroughly three times—it was filthy. He had wanted to clean more, but his hunger was unbearable.

Stir-frying clams was simple: first, fry scallions, ginger, and garlic in plenty of oil to release their aroma, then toss in the clams and stir-fry briefly.

But after searching for a while, there was no ginger, no garlic.

Scallions—he found some old ones tucked away in a corner of the yard.

This place was hopeless, Ye Cheng thought, resigned.

He had no choice but to go ahead. Heating the oil until hot, he threw in a few scallion segments, which crackled and popped as they blackened, releasing an even stronger fragrance.

He shook the rinsed clams free of water, and with a sizzling sound, dumped them all into the pan.

Then he added soy sauce for color, a pinch of salt, and gently stirred.

The hot oil along the edge of the pan caught fire, turning the pan into a blaze. Ye Cheng took the opportunity to toss the contents a few times before finishing.

There were still a few bottles of beer in the fridge; Ye Cheng opened one. Chilled beer paired with stir-fried clams was quite pleasant.

Seafood was all about freshness and flavor. The fresh clam meat was firm, easily separating from the shell with a gentle bite—indeed, delicious.

The only drawback was some sand inside; no choice, they should have been purged for a couple of days, but his hunger was too great.

At this moment, he thought about scrolling through short videos on his phone, but alas, no luck.

Alcohol did help with sleep; after eating, Ye Cheng lay down and fell asleep soundly. The first night after his rebirth was especially peaceful.

...

The next morning, Ye Cheng woke early, just after six. It was a spring tide day, and the morning’s catch was sure to be abundant.

He glanced at the system:

Luck value: 70

Points: 20

What? His luck had increased?

What did that mean? Would today bring a great harvest?

Ye Cheng leapt out of bed, grabbed a shovel and a bucket, and headed straight to Wang Xiaohu’s house.

At Wang Xiaohu’s, Uncle Wang and Aunt Wang greeted Ye Cheng warmly.

“Ah, Cheng’s here! Have you eaten? Come, sit and have something.”

Ye Cheng remembered how the last time he came, they had been cold and unfriendly. Why were they so nice today?

“Brother, you helped me make money yesterday. My parents were so happy,” Xiaohu said cheerfully. “My mom even cried, saying it was the first time I truly earned money.”

Aunt Wang blushed and lightly scolded her carefree child, “Cheng, you’ve got to take Xiaohu seriously from now on. No more messing around with those... those things.”

She was too embarrassed to say “stealing” outright.

“Uncle, Aunt, I’m here to take him out for sea gathering.”

“Sea gathering, huh? Okay, go ahead. Have some breakfast first—just steamed some buns.”

Ye Cheng was indeed hungry, so he grabbed two buns.

“We’ll eat on the way.”

“Alright, Mom and Dad, we’ll eat on the way.”

Xiaohu copied him, grabbed two buns, and hurried out after Ye Cheng.

“Brother, you should’ve seen it—I brought home over a hundred yuan yesterday. Mom was so touched, she really cried,” Xiaohu said excitedly, munching on the bun. His carefree nature made Ye Cheng want to slap him.

“And what about you? How do you feel?”

“Me?” Xiaohu paused, thinking deeply before answering.

“Brother, I want to make money. I don’t want my mom to work so hard,” Xiaohu said solemnly.

Ye Cheng nodded; the boy wasn’t too bad after all—there was hope.

“Stick with me for sea gathering. You’ll make money, don’t worry.”

“Yeah, but Mom said I can’t take too much money from you. I didn’t do anything; it was all you who found the stuff,” Xiaohu said awkwardly, looking at Ye Cheng.

Ye Cheng had thought about this too. If he relied solely on himself, Xiaohu would be unnecessary. He needed to find a way to let the system’s benefits shine on Xiaohu as well.

But for now, there was no solution.

“No worries. That was just one day. I can’t find things every day. What if you get lucky today? Then you won’t pay me?”

“Of course not, brother. Don’t worry, I’ll do the same.”

“That settles it. Let’s go. I’ll bring another woven sack today so we can carry more.”

“Okay, I’ll get them.”

Xiaohu fetched two woven sacks from his house, and they headed to the seaside together.

...

The spring tide from last night had receded, and fresh seafood was once again scattered across the mudflats.

Ye Cheng felt like this was like grinding in a game—once the cooldown refreshed, what loot you got depended on your luck.

With a luck value of 70 today, what kind of harvest awaited?

As they approached, Ye Cheng gasped, “Wow, so many people.”

“Yeah, brother. Everyone heard we got a lot of king clams yesterday, so they all came,” Xiaohu lit a cigarette.

This was how sea gathering worked: once someone scored a haul, others followed suit to ride the wave.

“Here comes Ye the Second again.”

“I heard they got dozens of pounds of king clams yesterday.”

“This heaven’s really blind, letting such a good thing fall into the hands of a second-rate guy like Ye the Second.”

“Exactly, it’s a waste for him.”

“I heard they even bought a lot of meat yesterday. No idea how he manages a household.”

“He’s a bachelor; what household management does he need? As long as he eats well, the whole family won’t starve.”

“Hah, that’s him. His brother still owes money.”

“Speaking of money, Ye the Second will have to repay too. It’s all debt left by his father.”

“Ugh, enough talking. Let’s dig quickly. Maybe we can get dozens of pounds of king clams too.”

...

The group of women spoke loudly. Ye Cheng was helpless. With no developed social media, they only cared about their own village’s gossip.

Once social media flourished, they’d be concerned with the entire entertainment world.

“Brother, are we going back to yesterday’s spot?” Xiaohu asked.

“Sure, let’s check it out.”

They headed to the place from yesterday, but before they arrived, they saw three young men already there.

Xiaohu’s face darkened. “Brother, it’s Huang Hai and the others—Duan Yong and Yuan Jiansheng are here too.”

These three were villagers of similar age to Ye Cheng, but they looked down on him as a slacker, while they worked steady jobs—either at the docks or in town.

...