Song Qing didn’t know today was his birthday. Actually, from birth until now, he hasn’t celebrated his birthday many times—especially after the age of twelve.
Every day rushing about for life, what he thought about and missed were eating full, studying, everything else was not within his scope of consideration.
The only time was also ruined. Since then, he never thought about it again.
After becoming familiar with him, Nan Zhi was curious about his past. When she asked, he told her. When not asked, this person was a gourd with a sealed mouth—very tight-lipped, would say nothing.
The birthday was also something she only knew after looking at his ID card, but afraid of making a mistake, she had asked more than a month in advance to confirm—it was indeed today, not the wrong date.
His parents cared a lot about him.
Nan Zhi’s birthday and the date on her ID don’t match, because her parents didn’t clearly explain to others, so the lunar calendar \[农历 nónglì, traditional Chinese calendar] became the Gregorian calendar \[公历 gōnglì, Western calendar].
Later to change it would cost money, so it wasn’t changed—anyway, as long as she herself knew it, it was fine.
Considering the importance of this birthday, being a coming-of-age ceremony, and also the first time in many years, and also the first time she celebrated his birthday,
Nan Zhi purposely got up very early to take him out to play. This person wasn’t too willing, because it would cost money.
Actually, now he also earns not little—every day doing manual craft work, one day thirty to fifty, and also took on an online tutoring gig.
Full day on Saturdays and Sundays, and on other days three hours every night, fifty yuan per hour. Because he can’t go to their home, it’s a bit cheaper.
A month also brings in five to six thousand, adding the handicraft work makes six to seven thousand. Since he’s now also living here, he joined the property owners’ WeChat group. One time, someone was looking for a cooking auntie, he took the initiative to privately message them, offering three meals a day.
“Meal with”, not specifically cooking for the owner’s family, more like whatever her family eats, that family eats too. Of course, if they occasionally want to eat something specific, he’ll also specially cook it. The price isn’t set high, but a month also brings two to three thousand.
Added up, now his monthly income surpasses ten thousand.
If she didn’t paint, she wouldn’t be as well off as him.
Even so, he’s still like always—buying vegetables must be after seven or eight at night. At this time, supermarkets are about to close, vegetable prices are cheap, and you can haggle. Also won’t buy random stuff.
His toothbrush is still the same as before, towel too. If she doesn’t change it for him, he just keeps using the old one—can use it until retirement.
Doesn’t eat snacks, doesn’t order takeaway, doesn’t go to roadside stalls. Goes out with how much money on him, comes back with the same.
All the money is transferred into her account—tutoring, handicraft, cooking—all directly given the info of her account. Once it arrives, she says a word, he nods and that’s it.
Usually, other than asking her for money to buy vegetables, he doesn’t spend a single cent.
Just like her grandma.
Nan Zhi was meeting such a boy for the first time—felt pretty good?
Felt amazed, and admired too.
How could a young person in daily life not even spend a single cent? Earning a bit over ten thousand, can save ten thousand.
But she purposely tricked him, saying she used his money to buy a coat—seven or eight hundred yuan per piece. He just nodded, didn’t say anything.
She said buying concert tickets, over a thousand—he also didn’t react much.
To himself stingy to the extreme, but to her very generous. Whatever she wanted to spend on, it’s like however she wanted to spend, it’s fine.
Of course, Nan Zhi herself also had money—didn’t actually spend his. Just tricked him a bit. Anyway, the money was in her account, the SMS notification was bound to her, only she knew whether it was spent or not.
Actually, she already couldn’t tell which money was his, which was hers—because Song Qing’s money, aside from large amounts, also included some one or two yuan, even a few cents.
Anyway, Song Qing didn’t suspect anything—followed her in and just picked, striving to earn back the cost and make a little more on top.
The vertical-rack kind, strawberries were on the shelves, the ground was dry and clean, flat, and the path was wide enough—his wheelchair went in and out with room to spare.
To be able to pick more, the two of them split into two separate paths—eating while picking. Came out with two full big baskets again. Even under Song Qing’s wheelchair, the two of them had stuffed some more.
After coming outside, did a rough calculation—felt like they earned. Just like back then with Grandma, grinning from ear to ear. Now Song Qing’s eyes even slightly lit up.
As expected—what Grandma liked, Song Qing would also like.
Next to the strawberry greenhouse was a vegetable greenhouse. Because they bought a lot, they haggled with the owner, successfully persuaded him: twenty yuan, two people pick for three minutes.
After paying, the two looked at each other, then rushed in to quickly find the vegetables they wanted—gaga picking \[嘎嘎摘 gā gā zhāi – onomatopoeia for fast/enthusiastic action]. Came out with left arm holding, right hand carrying. Couldn’t carry more, so ducked under the racks, placed the rest under Song Qing’s wheelchair. Came out again with full load, like they had gotten a huge bargain.
Actually, the individual ticket price was 88 yuan per person. This kind of thing is meant for city folks to experience life and fun.
The veggies and strawberries picked weren’t worth much. Main point was making Grandma happy. Now, it was making Song Qing happy.
But for people who love eating strawberries and regularly buy groceries and cook, actually the two of them weren’t losing out—after all, it’s more expensive in the supermarket.
Supermarket shopping is also boring. Here, they had fun while doing it.
Nan Zhi felt it was really worth it.
Ran around the vegetable garden in the morning, afraid they wouldn’t earn back the ticket, rushed around, tired the two of them out. So Nan Zhi didn’t hurry to make more plans. Brought Song Qing back and had a nap. At noon, casually ate a bit—not much, just to pad the stomach—because in the evening they were going to eat at a buffet.
This buffet was also something Grandma could accept and liked.
The older generation, having worked hard for most of their life, reluctant to eat, reluctant to drink—taking her to a restaurant, hotpot, barbecue and the like, she would think it’s expensive, unwilling to go. Even if she really went, she’d still be thinking about the money, didn’t dare to eat, didn’t dare to order.
Didn’t eat enough but still said she was full, or deliberately asked for the cheap dishes, said she loved those—in truth, to save money.
Buffet is different—you can eat freely. Not only that, but if you don’t eat enough, you’d lose money. So the things you normally couldn’t bear to eat, now you’d eat a lot of.
Eat more, and you could earn it back. Anyway, every time Nan Zhi calculated for Grandma how much they had eaten over the cost, how much they “profited,” Grandma would be super happy.
Just eating a meal felt like winning the jackpot.
And it’s only at the buffet that you can really see what the elderly actually like to eat or don’t.
Of course, Song Qing too.
Actually, Nan Zhi had brought him to a buffet once or twice before—always said it was coupons given by others, or special promotion, very cheap. And unexpectedly, she really discovered a few foods he liked to eat.
Each time he would deliberately get those. After that, she would often buy them at home too. This time was perfect to see if his preferences had changed.
It was his birthday, definitely couldn’t be like before, still going to those places just over a hundred yuan. This time, Nan Zhi chose a high-end buffet—not flashy high-class, but with tasteful, elegant decor.
She just wanted him to not feel the price, yet still eat well. The things he loved, this place also had them.
This buffet restaurant focused mainly on Chinese food. The previous one was seafood—raw salmon, sweet shrimp, etc.—he wasn’t used to eating that. Nan Zhi wasn’t either. This time everything was cooked.
There was also a pot, could cook things—fatty beef rolls, lamb rolls, those kinds.
Even the raw items could be cooked yourself.
Previously, he didn’t eat much seafood. That place mainly had those, and those were also the most expensive. Eating other things could barely earn back the cost. This time, he cooked several plates of lamb rolls and fatty beef rolls, also put in several plates of shrimp and crab, beef short ribs, lamb chops, roasted pig trotters, raw oysters, Buddha Jumps Over the Wall—all the valuable items were eaten through once.
Before coming, it had already been several hours since he last touched food, and at noon he had only padded his stomach a little. At this moment, of course he was taking and taking.
Each time he took something, she would calculate the price just like before. After surpassing the cost, every additional item eaten, this person was just like her grandma—his eyes would shine brighter and brighter.
Nan Zhi suddenly realized she was quite good at coaxing people. Back then she tricked grandma into being really happy, and now Song Qing’s mouth had been faintly upturned the whole day.
It’s a birthday, after all—it’s supposed to be joyful.
After nine in the evening, the two finished all the day’s activities and headed back. On the way, Nan Zhi began signaling to the shop owner: the cake could be delivered now.
Estimating the distance, it would take at least half an hour to arrive. They, on the other hand, reached downstairs early. Nan Zhi happened to begin implementing the third step.
She took Song Qing for a digestion walk downstairs. While strolling, she pulled out the 20 yuan she had long prepared from her pocket and tossed it to the ground. Then pushed Song Qing a bit further. Afraid someone else might pick it up, she pretended it was too cold outside and said she wanted to go back.
Song Qing didn’t object.
So Nan Zhi turned the wheelchair and deliberately led him back to where the money had been placed. Song Qing had good eyesight, and the money just happened to be under a streetlight. Sure enough, he spotted it, told her to stop, then bent down himself and picked the money up into his hand.
“Found 20 yuan.”
In this world, probably nothing is more joyful than picking up money.
Back then, she used this same trick to coax grandma into being delighted, cheerful for the whole day.
But because the “lost” money was 100 yuan, the denomination was too big. Grandma wasn’t at ease, wanted to turn it in to the police. Nan Zhi had no choice but to admit it might be her own money—because she just happened to be short of 100 yuan.
After that, she only did it at home, or hid money in grandma’s thread basket.
Grandma had the habit of hiding money, and thought she had put it there herself—grinning from ear to ear.
Learning from that experience with grandma, afraid that honest and upright Song Qing would do the same, this time Nan Zhi replaced it with 20 yuan. Twenty yuan is a small amount—doesn’t create much psychological burden.
Picking up money—no matter how much—is always joyful. This guy is someone who even picks up drink bottles worth one mao. Twenty yuan—that’s 200 bottles. How could that not be worth being happy about?
Nan Zhi told him to keep it, then pushed the wheelchair, as if afraid of being found out, swiftly “escaped” the scene.
When they got home, the cake happened to arrive. Nan Zhi told him to go inside first. She herself followed behind carrying the cake box. When he reached the sofa and turned his wheelchair, she suddenly brought out the cake from behind and waved it in front of him.
To her surprise, Song Qing didn’t seem surprised at all—as if he had already known.
Nan Zhi blinked. “You guessed?”
Song Qing didn’t deny it—nodded slightly.
Lately, Nan Zhi had been repeatedly saying, “Eighteen already,” “An adult now,” words like that.
“Eighteen,” “adult”—he couldn’t help but associate it with himself. And it just so happened that today, he really did turn eighteen, became an adult. Just so happened Nan Zhi took him out to play today, took him to eat, and even let him pick up money.
The money was little—not enough to be worth that much happiness—but the fact she specially dropped money, pretended to let him find it, letting him be happy for no reason—that intention was worth being happy about.
He was indeed in a very good mood today.
I am just a cripple that no one wants, but she—to celebrate my birthday—hid the true price of tickets and meals, didn’t want me to worry about money, coaxed me saying “so worth it,” not only earned back the cost, even “profited.” Then dropped money for me to pick up.
If I’m not wrong, the birthday gift is probably a prosthetic limb. Lately, she’s been starting to supervise me wrapping bandages.
Wrapping bandages is for preventing muscle atrophy so the prosthetic can be used. Plus, in these past two days she hasn’t been painting anymore—no longer tense like before, much more relaxed. Yet she’s been keeping a very close eye on me wrapping the bandage. Even someone from the rehab center contacted me. So, seven or eight out of ten—it should be that.
She has really spent a lot of thought on me.