Chapter 130 – Pretty Lucky?

When Zhang Jianshe got back and saw the pile of stuff in the foam box inside the house, he was stunned too.

“Eggs, canned food, and rice—where did you get all this?” Aunt Zhang still hadn’t figured it out.

Her husband had only gone out for a while and came back with all this.

Zhang Jianshe glanced at Zhou Yimin. When he saw Zhou Yimin subtly shake his head, the words at the tip of his tongue changed direction. “Didn’t Yimin come over to visit? I asked some of my colleagues for it.”

Aunt Zhang: “…”

She didn’t quite buy it.

Aren’t your colleagues all struggling to eat themselves? Otherwise, you wouldn’t always be taking things from home to share with them.

“Ahem! Yanzi, do you have time next Friday?” Zhou Yimin quickly changed the subject to divert attention.

Sure enough, everyone turned their gaze to him.

Zhang Yan said, “I have class on Friday, but I can take leave.”

“Will taking leave be a problem?” Zhou Yimin asked her.

Aunt Zhang thought Zhou Yimin was asking her daughter out and said, “A day or half a day—what’s the big deal? She can catch up afterward.”

But Zhang Jianshe sensed that this wasn’t just a casual outing. Knowing Yimin’s character, he wouldn’t schedule something during class unless it was important. The weekend is free—why pick Friday? So, it clearly wasn’t a date.

“My grandma’s birthday is on Friday. I want to throw a few tables for her. Uncle Zhang, would you be free?”

He remembered that Friday was his grandma’s birthday and had already started making preparations.

“Of course we’ll be free! Even if something comes up last minute, your Aunt Zhang can take the girls,” Zhang Jianshe responded immediately.

He liked how respectful Zhou Yimin was toward his elders. What father wouldn’t like a son-in-law like that?

Aunt Zhang nodded and asked, “How old is your grandma turning?”

She’d need to prepare something—can’t go empty-handed. That’d be rude.

“Sixty.”

It was her sixtieth birthday. That’s why Zhou Yimin wanted to make it a big celebration.

The older generation takes numbers seriously, especially when it comes to birthdays. Chinese people are highly sensitive to numbers, particularly elders. They hope everything ends on an auspicious note. If the birthday isn’t a round number, they often don’t feel like celebrating at all.

Maybe they see round numbers as representing completeness—family unity, happiness, and a fulfilled life. The 60th birthday is one of those milestones that most Chinese families celebrate.

In our culture, six is considered a lucky number, and sixty years represents a full cycle of life. Finishing sixty years is like completing one life cycle and entering a new one.

In his previous life, Zhou Yimin read online that you shouldn’t throw birthday parties for elders just any year. Years with the number “4” were considered unlucky—like 54, 64, 74—because “four” sounds like “death” in Chinese.

Also, 73 and 84 weren’t great either, tied to history. Confucius died at 73 and Mencius at 84. These two sages are deeply revered. If even they couldn’t pass those years, what chance does an ordinary person have?

It wasn’t just superstition—it was also a way to show respect for the ancient philosophers.

And once someone’s over 90? Best not to make a fuss. You throw a party, and they might pass shortly after. That would just be awkward and sad.

“Don’t worry, Yimin! Our whole family will be there. Oh right, where are you hosting it?” Aunt Zhang asked.

“Zhoujiazhuang. It’s not appropriate to throw a banquet at the siheyuan in the city,” Zhou Yimin replied.

After all, the current climate was about keeping things simple—no extravagance, no waste.

Everyone was living frugally these days. Wouldn’t a big feast come off as tone-deaf?

After dinner, it was already getting dark. Zhou Yimin didn’t stay long.

After he left, Aunt Zhang warned her husband, “Old Zhang, I’m telling you, don’t flake this time. I let it slide before.”

In the past, he had bailed on all three daughters’ birthdays. The man had a history of breaking promises.

Zhang Jianshe gave a wry smile. “Friday, right? Shouldn’t be a problem. I’ll coordinate with work.”

Those missed birthdays had been unavoidable—he was knee-deep in critical research and literally couldn’t step away.

“You better mean it,” Aunt Zhang warned again.

After that, she cleaned up the watermelon rinds. She could pickle those—they’d make a nice side dish.

Back at his siheyuan, Zhou Yimin was surprised to see Zhou Dafu and the others there. But what was up with their eyes? They were all swollen.

Bee stings?

Why is it that every time I see you guys, you’re injured—and each time in a different way?

He couldn’t believe it.

“What happened?” Zhou Yimin asked.

Someone nearby said awkwardly, “We had good luck today…”

“Good luck?” Zhou Yimin looked at them and thought to himself: Does this look like good luck?

“It was lucky—we caught five dumb roe deer,” Zhou Dafu said.

Huh? Dumb roe deer?

Zhou Yimin thought to himself, do you even need to hunt those? Once you spot one, it’s practically yours.

In his previous life, he’d heard from Northeastern friends that when faced with danger, dumb roe deer didn’t immediately run. First, they puffed up the white fur under their tails. Then they’d think about running.

If they realized they couldn’t escape, they’d sometimes stop altogether and bury their heads in snow, thinking the predator couldn’t see them.

On top of that, they were incredibly curious. Sometimes when they saw people, they wouldn’t flee—instead, they’d come over to take a look.

In short, they made so many dumb moves that people were at a loss for words.

“You’re sure you hunted them?” Zhou Yimin asked.

“Ahem! They came to us. We caught three by hand. Two of them knocked themselves out,” someone replied.

Hearing this, Zhou Yimin nodded.

Now that made sense. That was exactly the kind of thing dumb roe deer would do!

So yeah, they really were lucky. Catching dumb roe deer was pretty much the same as getting free food.

“But your faces…”

One of the guys shot a glare at Zhou Dafu. “It’s all his fault. He disturbed a hornet’s nest.”

Zhou Yimin: “…”

After a long silence, he said, “I suggest you stop working with him.”

The guy’s name might sound like “good fortune,” but based on recent events, he was basically a walking jinx. Hanging around him was just asking for trouble.

Zhou Dafu grinned, but even that hurt his swollen face.

“Heh, they can’t manage without me.”

Zhou Yimin was surprised. They can’t manage without you?

He really couldn’t think of what contribution Zhou Dafu brought to the table.

The other four guys looked embarrassed and grumbled, “Yeah, it’s weird. We never find game on our own. But if we go with him, we usually come back with something.”

They didn’t get it either—but it was just this weird kind of luck.

(End of Chapter)