Chapter Forty-Seven: The Eldest Brother Is Like a Father

Tang Maocai, Tang Zhichu’s eldest uncle and the older brother of Tang Maode, was a man whose very name proclaimed his virtues—both moral and material excellence. As for why Tang Maocai was the eldest? Perhaps it was because he had known too much hardship in his youth.

Indeed, Tang Maocai had become the pride of the Tang family. He now held a senior management position at a publicly listed company, reputedly the one to handle all the dirty and thankless jobs. For example, whenever the company acquired a factory, Tang Maocai would be dispatched to oversee it, and his task? Restructuring and layoffs—always the unpleasant business that made him unpopular.

Tang Zhichu glanced at his aunt and understood immediately. She must have already told his uncle about his “situation,” which explained the way his uncle greeted him.

“Sit down, quickly. Your father really doesn’t know any better—so selfish, still forcing you to go on blind dates under these circumstances. As if you could produce a grandchild for him on the spot—” Tang Maocai was interrupted mid-sentence by a kick from the middle-aged woman standing behind him.

That was Tang Zhichu’s aunt. Tang Zhichu smiled and said, “It’s all right, Auntie. Uncle is right.”

Hearing this, his aunt came over and took his hand, seating him beside her. “I know you blame your father in words, but in your heart, you still care for him. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have gone. You really should have told us earlier about all this; we could have given you some advice. You’re a good child, but you’re just too honest,” she said gently.

Tang Zhichu said nothing, his expression one of grievance.

Watching the tender scene between aunt and nephew, Tang Xiuju pursed her lips. “Don’t worry, Sister-in-law. I’ve already moved in for several days. I’m here to help.”

His aunt’s face stiffened slightly. “That’s true. Thank you for your trouble, Xiuju.”

Tang Xiuju smiled. “It’s no trouble at all. It’s my second brother lying in that room, and I see Zhichu as my own child.”

At last, a smile returned to his aunt’s face. She pulled a bank card from her pocket and pressed it into Tang Zhichu’s hand. “Exactly. We’re all family. We see Zhichu as our own child. There’s a hundred thousand yuan on this card—however your father’s illness needs to be treated, just do it. If you need more, just let us know.”

Now it was Tang Xiuju’s turn to look awkward. So this was how they wanted to play—by putting up real money? But this was truly her weak spot; her own family’s means were modest.

“Zhichu, your aunt is giving this to you—take it, don’t make her feel bad,” Tang Xiuju urged when she saw Tang Zhichu about to refuse.

If they were going to give money, then don’t refuse it.

But Tang Zhichu still felt uncomfortable and tried to return the bank card to his aunt. “It’s really all right, Auntie. We have enough for now.”

“Keep it—better safe than sorry,” Tang Maocai said.

His aunt pressed the bank card back into his hand. “Just take it. Don’t stand on ceremony with your uncle and aunt.”

Tang Zhichu had no choice but to accept it.

“Where’s my father?” he asked.

His aunt glanced toward the bedroom.

Tang Zhichu got up, rounded the corner, and came to the master bedroom door. Just as he was about to push it open, he heard voices from inside.

He paused, hand still on the door. Someone else was there?

Tang Zhichu pressed his ear to the door.

Inside, a cropped-haired man in his late twenties was wrestling open a bottle. “Second Uncle, just a small sip, then eat some chocolate. Otherwise, my dad will smell it and I’ll be in trouble.”

Tang Maode, propped up in bed, nodded eagerly. “A true man of honor—just a bottle cap’s worth, but fill it to the brim!”

The young man nodded, filled the cap, and handed it over.

Tang Maode downed it in one gulp and exhaled contentedly. “Ah, that’s the stuff. My dear nephew, if your cousin had half your boldness and sense, I wouldn’t worry so much.”

The cropped-haired man screwed the cap back on and stashed the bottle under the bed.

“Second Uncle, there are things only we can say in private. If my dad were half as wise and decisive as you, my life would be a lot easier,” he complained. “Sometimes I think I should’ve been your son! If we were father and son, what a legacy we’d build together. As for Zhichu, he was born into the wrong family. My parents only like kids like him—obedient, quiet, and dutiful.”

Tang Maode nodded in agreement. “You’re right. Great minds think alike. Pour your uncle another cap.”

The young man shook his head. “Uncle, wait till evening. Any more and there’ll be trouble. But don’t worry, I looked into your illness. It’s serious, yes, but you can’t make yourself miserable. Otherwise, there’ll be no joy left at the end.”

Tang Maode smacked his lips, savoring the taste, but didn’t argue with the young man’s rambling.

“I’ve long since come to terms with it all. The only thing I can’t let go of is your cousin. Otherwise, I’d drink myself into oblivion and be done with it,” Tang Maode said.

The young man thumped his chest. “Uncle, don’t worry. I still remember how you stood up for me in high school. An elder brother is like a father. If you’re gone, who else will your nephew have?”

Tang Maode patted his nephew’s shoulder. “Good lad!”

Outside, Tang Zhichu could listen no longer. He pushed open the door.

The young man jumped in surprise, but, seeing it was Tang Zhichu, he relaxed.

“Hey, Zhichu, come here! Give your big brother a hug. I’ve told your dad—your brother’s got your back from now on,” he declared, pulling Tang Zhichu into a bear hug whether he liked it or not. “Look at you, half a head taller than me!”

This man carried unusual weight in Tang Zhichu’s memories. His father had always wanted to mold him into his cousin’s image, and this man—Tang Chao, Tang Maocai’s eldest son—was that very cousin.

Tang Zhichu pushed Tang Chao away and scanned the room, his eyes finally settling on the space beneath the bed.

He crouched down, fumbling for a while before fishing out a small bottle of baijiu.

He looked at Tang Maode.

Tang Maode, caught off guard, began cursing, “Don’t look at me! Damn it, which rascal put that there? I’ve only just come back!”

Tang Chao glared and muttered through clenched teeth, “Damn it, who would waste such good stuff like this? What a waste!”

Tang Maode glanced at Tang Chao, almost bowing in thanks.

Tang Chao returned his look, as if to say, Don’t worry, we’re men of honor!

Tang Zhichu ignored the two of them, walked into the master bathroom, and twisted off the cap.

Under Tang Maode’s pained gaze and Tang Chao’s anguished expression—clearly, this wasn’t cheap liquor—Tang Zhichu poured the contents down the toilet.

“If this happens again, you’ll be staying in the hospital. Don’t come home,” he said to Tang Maode, who lay in bed.

Tang Maode glared. “I’m your father! You come home just to make trouble for me?”

Tang Chao chuckled. “Come on, little brother, don’t be like that. You have to put yourself in other people’s shoes...”

Tang Zhichu cut him off. “And you—if this happens again, I’ll tell your father about your three girlfriends.”

Tang Chao’s eyes widened. “I’m your brother! An elder brother is like a father!”