Chapter 29: Sand-Grown Bean Sprouts

The old man had two small cups of liquor, occasionally glancing at his watch. Life couldn’t get any better—meat and alcohol on the table.

Who else could live like this?

It was all thanks to his capable eldest grandson.

Even the hand pump well beside their house had been enough to make the villagers envious for a long time, not to mention everything else. Now, whenever he went out, people praised Yimin for being thoughtful, filial, and capable. Hearing that made the old man happier than being praised himself.

Go ahead and be envious!

After eating his fill, he planned to take a stroll around the village.

He had to make sure everyone knew that his eldest grandson had even bought him a watch—one that was a reward from the steel mill director!

“Uncle, what time is it now?” Third Uncle stared eagerly at the watch on the old man’s wrist.

Before this, only the brigade leader’s family had a watch. If anyone in the village wanted to know the time, they had to ask the brigade leader. But now, not only did his nephew have one, but the old man had one too.

Their family had two watches!

Who else in the village could compare?

If only he could borrow it for a stroll outside, that would be perfect.

“12:30.” The old man glanced at the watch hands again and reported the time with ease.

Zhou Xuqiang sighed internally—Yimin was truly generous!

He had heard that although the steel mill leader had rewarded the old man with a watch voucher, they still had to spend 120 yuan to buy it.

120 yuan!

His entire family couldn’t scrape together that much money, and even if they could, he wouldn’t spend it on a watch. Yet his nephew had bought one for the old man without even mentioning it beforehand.

“Just eat your food. Why do you keep checking the time?” Grandma couldn’t stand the old man’s showing off anymore.

That watch was bought by her eldest grandson! Without him, forget watches—he’d be eating plain cornbread!

The old man just chuckled and took another bite of chicken drumstick, chewing slowly.

Zhou Yimin watched everyone eat chicken and was genuinely impressed. They picked the bones so clean that even a fly would slip off, and some even ate the smaller bones outright.

The most impressive was Third Uncle—he never spat out bones.

As for Zhou Yimin, he was probably the messiest eater, spitting out every bone, big or small.

If anyone else ate like that, they’d be scolded and told to pick them up and eat them again.

After finishing the meal, the old man couldn’t sit still and went out for a walk. He said it was to “digest his food,” but everyone knew his real intention and just played along.

Meanwhile, Laifu and his two siblings ran off to catch a mouse—they couldn’t let anyone else in the village get to it first.

Third Aunt went home to continue sewing clothes.

Zhou Yimin, feeling a bit sleepy, returned to his room for a nap.

When he woke up, he saw his grandmother fanning him.

“Yimin, you’re awake? Why not sleep a little longer?” she asked kindly.

“Grandma, you should rest too! You don’t have to watch over me,” he replied helplessly.

He checked the time—he’d only slept for an hour. That was a bit short, but since he had gone to bed early the previous night, his routine was regular, and he didn’t need a long nap.

In reality, for people used to napping, even half an hour could leave them feeling refreshed.

“I’m not sleepy,” Grandma said with a smile.

Elderly people naturally slept less, though they lacked the energy of younger folks.

After getting up, Zhou Yimin washed his face and decided to gather some sand to grow bean sprouts.

Bean sprouts could be grown in water or sand, but he preferred the sand-grown ones because they were crunchier and sweeter.

Growing them in sand was simple—bury healthy soybeans in sand, keep them in the dark, water them daily to keep the beans moist, and in a few days, they’d be ready to eat.

Seeing him grab soybeans, Grandma immediately asked if he was hungry.

In her world, she always assumed he was.

Zhou Yimin chuckled helplessly. “No, Grandma. I’m not hungry. I just want to grow some bean sprouts. I’ll go dig up some sand in a bit.”

“You want to eat bean sprouts? Great! If you want them, we’ll grow some. I’ll have Laifu and the others dig up some sand,” she said indulgently.

If Grandpa had wanted to use soybeans for sprouts, she would have scolded him to hell and back.

“Laifu! Laifu!” Grandma called loudly from outside.

Zhou Yimin didn’t stop her. Digging sand wasn’t hard labor—letting the kids do some work was better than them running wild.

He found an old wooden crate in the house, perfect for covering the sprouts later.

Hearing Grandma’s call, Laifu and his siblings ran back immediately. When she told them to dig up sand, they didn’t hesitate and grabbed tools before heading out.

Three of them left, but when they returned, they had a whole group of kids with them—and a huge pile of sand.

Zhou Yimin went to the store and bought a bag of fruit candies.

“One per person. No grabbing. If you grab, you won’t get any next time,” he told them.

The kids understood the rules and lined up obediently, faces beaming with joy.

“Eat them now. Don’t take them home,” he warned the girls.

At the time, sons were favored over daughters in most families. If the girls brought the candy home, their families might take it away. Zhou Yimin wanted them to enjoy it themselves.

He had already heard that when he handed out peanuts and sunflower seeds before, the girls barely got to eat any.

Each child put the candy in their mouth, unwilling to bite into it, savoring it as long as possible.

They even licked the candy wrappers clean before reluctantly tossing them. Candy wrappers were precious assets for kids, just like glass marbles and cigarette cards in later generations.

One little boy accidentally swallowed his candy, froze for a second, then burst into loud sobs.

Zhou Yimin wiped his sweat. He wasn’t going to hand out another one—it wouldn’t be fair to the others.

“You still ate it, didn’t you? Stop crying. If you cry, you won’t get any next time!”

The kid instantly stopped, turning off his tears like a switch. If not for his tear-streaked face and red eyes, Zhou Yimin would have thought he had been faking it.

“Alright, go play!”

Zhou Yimin spread a layer of sand on an empty spot in Grandma’s vegetable garden, about a square meter in size. He scattered the beans, covered them with another layer of sand, watered them thoroughly, and finally placed the wooden crate on top.

Done!

As soon as he stepped back inside, Grandma handed him a bowl of sugar water.

“Drink up!” she urged.

Just then, they heard Grandpa shouting outside, furious.

“Who threw my crate into the vegetable garden?!”

Zhou Yimin: “….”

Grandma, why didn’t you warn me?!

But she stood her ground and snapped back, “That broken crate is only good for covering my grandson’s bean sprouts! What else would you even use it for?”

Hearing that it was his grandson’s doing, Grandpa immediately backed down.

“Oh… that old thing? I was planning to throw it away anyway.”

“Grandpa, I’ll get a new one made for you later,” Zhou Yimin quickly promised.

He had forgotten that in this house, nothing was ever truly ‘waste’—everything had a use.

(End of Chapter)