Chapter Forty-Three: A Mother's Strength

Yang Xiaofan drove the car to the front gate and, from a distance, spotted his little sister crouching by the door, clutching her phone and peering in his direction.

When she saw the Ferrari, her eyes couldn't help but reveal a trace of envy.

A sports car like this held an undeniable allure for women of any age—few could resist its charm.

Still, she had never dared to imagine that this car belonged to Yang Xiaofan. She knew such a vehicle must be exorbitantly expensive. Even though she couldn’t recognize the emblem, she understood that anything so beautiful could hardly come cheap.

Wasn’t the village beauty next door able to ask for a betrothal gift of three hundred thousand, simply because she was pretty?

But when Yang Xiaofan pulled up at the gate, turned off the engine, and stepped out of the car, Yang Xiaoqing was instantly dumbfounded.

“Brother! How is it you?”

Yang Xiaofan replied, exasperated, “Didn’t I tell you I’d be home in two hours? Is it so strange that it’s me?”

“But... but... but... is this the car you bought?”

Yang Xiaofan nodded, the corners of his mouth lifting in a sly smile.

“Well, do you like it?”

Instead of showing any delight, Yang Xiaoqing’s expression grew more serious.

“Brother... you... you didn’t rob a bank, did you?”

Yang Xiaofan rolled his eyes.

“Do I look like I’m tired of living? I earned this money myself.”

She sucked in a breath. “This car doesn’t look cheap at all. Are you sure your brain is worth that much?”

Yang Xiaofan nearly choked with frustration.

If she weren’t his own sister, he’d have given her a smack by now.

What did she mean, was his brain capable of making that much money? Did he really look so dim?

“How much did this beautiful car cost?”

Yang Xiaoqing couldn’t help herself—she stepped forward, running her hand along the Ferrari’s sleek curves.

Yang Xiaofan grinned mischievously.

“Guess.”

Yang Xiaoqing frowned slightly. “Second Aunt’s family just bought a Buick Excelle, and it cost a hundred thousand after taxes. Your car is so much nicer than theirs—it must be at least this much, right?”

She held up two fingers.

“Two hundred thousand, is that it?”

Yang Xiaofan shook his head.

“Nope, guess higher. Be bold.”

Yang Xiaoqing hesitated a moment, then asked, “Could it be four hundred thousand?”

“Bolder. Try guessing in the seven digits.”

She gasped, her pupils shrinking and every hair on her body standing on end.

“This car cost a million?”

Yang Xiaofan shook his head again.

“Multiply that by six.”

“Six million!”

Yang Xiaoqing felt her legs go weak with shock. She quickly withdrew her hand from the car, as if afraid she might scratch the paint.

“Brother, you really didn’t rob a bank? With your brains, how could you possibly make six million?”

This time, Yang Xiaofan couldn’t hold back and gave her a light smack on the head.

“Are you trying to provoke me? Who says I can’t make that much?”

Yang Xiaoqing clutched her head, aggrieved.

“But that’s six million! Mom and Dad haven’t made a million in their whole lives.”

Yang Xiaofan pinched her cheek and chuckled.

“Six million is nothing. In the future, your brother will have as much money as he wants.”

“Really?”

Yang Xiaoqing’s eyes shone with excitement.

Yang Xiaofan nodded.

“Of course it’s true.”

“That’s wonderful! Brother, I adore you!”

She threw herself at him, clinging to him like a little koala.

Yang Xiaofan ruffled her hair.

“All right, that’s enough. Get in the car. I’ll take you to find Mom and Xiaoyun.”

“Okay!”

The siblings got into the car. With a stylish flick of the wheel, Yang Xiaofan spun the car around and sped off towards the street with Yang Xiaoqing beside him.

It happened to be market day, so the street was packed with traffic. Yang Xiaofan parked the car in the village committee’s lot at the edge of the street, where there were surveillance cameras—he felt more at ease leaving it there. If he’d parked it outside, some curious children might scribble on it, and that would be a disaster.

For Yang Xiaoqing, who had never been in a car before, everything was a thrill. Clinging to Yang Xiaofan’s arm, she coquettishly said, “Brother, this is amazing! A six-million car really is different. It’s so much better than Second Aunt’s car.”

“Have you ever ridden in Second Aunt’s car?”

“No, she never lets us in, won’t even let us touch it. She says if we scratch the paint, we couldn’t afford to pay for it. Last time we went to a wedding at a relative’s, it rained when we came home. She still wouldn’t let us ride with her, so Xiaoyun, Mom, and I all rode home in the rain on the tricycle.”

Hearing this, a cold glint flashed through Yang Xiaofan’s eyes.

Throughout his life, he’d suffered countless humiliations.

Now, even though he had left home to study at university, his parents and sisters still endured the scorn of others.

Such was the sorrow of the poor!

But this time, after returning home, he was determined to ensure his family could hold their heads high and never again be looked down on or treated with contempt.

Squeezing through the crowded street, the siblings soon reached the seed and fertilizer station.

A crowd of villagers had already gathered there, all lining up to buy seeds.

Yang Xiaofan immediately spotted his mother and Xiaoyun struggling to lift a bag of fertilizer onto a tricycle.

His mother, already in her fifties, had streaks of silver at her temples.

Xiaoyun was still young, only seventeen.

The two of them worked together to move the fertilizer bag, their faces flushed with effort, hair dampened by sweat.

Seeing this, Yang Xiaofan’s eyes grew red. He rushed over and, with a single motion, hauled the bag into the tricycle.

“Mom, Xiaoyun.”

“Xiaofan, you’re home.”

Seeing him return, both mother and daughter beamed, their fatigue immediately forgotten.

Xiaoyun, cheeks rosy, called out, “Brother!”

Yang Xiaofan ruffled her hair and then frowned at his mother.

“Mom, didn’t I tell you not to farm anymore? Why are you buying wheat seeds and fertilizer for the autumn planting?”

His mother smiled simply.

“A season of wheat can earn us over ten thousand. Wouldn’t it be a pity not to plant? You’re grown now. We still need to buy you a house someday.”

Yang Xiaofan could only sigh.

“Mom, let me make this clear: don’t farm anymore! Your son can earn money now—our family will never lack for anything again. Buying a house is nothing.”

“All right, all right, if you can earn money, I’ll stop.”

Mother Yang smiled happily. Her son’s success brought her genuine joy. Yet her tone betrayed her disbelief in his words.

Yang Xiaoqing chimed in, “Mom, what my brother says is true! He’s really making lots of money now—so much that even if you farmed for a hundred years, no, two hundred, you still couldn’t make as much as he does.”