Chapter 93: So It’s the Younger Brother

Before five o’clock the next morning, Xie Yunshu struggled to get out of bed. It had rained lightly all night, and outside it was freezing cold—who would want to leave a warm quilted bed at such a time?

Xie Mingcheng, a young man full of energy, woke up early every day to study. He was already fully dressed and even reached out to feel Xiao Wei’s forehead. Li Fenlan was awake too, quietly saying, “The fever’s gone down, nothing serious. Let’s talk more when you come back.”

She didn’t say to send the child back immediately, but keeping him there wasn’t really right either. Li Fenlan sighed, feeling torn but genuinely pitying such a little kid…

Xie Mingcheng lowered his voice: “My sister said we should take him to the police station and let the officers take care of him. Just feeling sorry for him won’t help.”

They couldn’t just keep the kid, especially since someone like Zhou Xinyue might accuse them of child abduction.

In this era, old folks trusted uniformed officers a lot. Hearing that they’d be taken to the police station, Li Fenlan breathed a sigh of relief: “Then you go on with your work. I’ll get up later to cook the meat—don’t you have to sell lunch boxes at noon?”

Selling two meals a day, business was good; there was no time to slack off.

Meanwhile, Xie Yunshu put on her wool hat and frowned as she dug a new scarf out of a bag that Xie Mingcheng had brought back: “Put it on!”

Xie Mingcheng didn’t want to: “It’s new.”

The scarf matched that wool coat—his sister hadn’t even worn her new clothes yet, so how could he wear the scarf?

Xie Yunshu gave him a sharp look: “You want me to start charging you for that down jacket now? Xie Mingcheng, I’m warning you, don’t think this is over!”

This time, Xie Mingcheng didn’t argue. He obediently put on the scarf, and without waiting for another reminder, he put on his gloves too. The tall young man lowered his head as he headed out, his voice carrying a hint of goodwill: “Sis, I’ll ride the tricycle.”

In the rental compound, Aunt Zhao had already lit the stove and steamed two baskets of buns. Seeing the siblings early, she frowned: “Why so early? I’ve got Xiao Yun helping—won’t be done before ten!”

Zhao Xiaoyun shyly smiled at the siblings, barely daring to meet Xie Mingcheng’s gaze as she hurried to put more firewood in the stove.

Xie Yunshu laughed: “Aunt Zhao, I’m a heartless capitalist—not paying wages to Xiao Yun.”

Aunt Zhao laughed heartily: “You’re the only one who jokes like that. Xiao Yun isn’t here to help you; she’s helping me! If I got paid but didn’t work, how could I still call myself your aunt?”

As she spoke, she lifted the steamer lid and a fragrant steam of buns filled the yard.

Xie Mingcheng moved a box over, lined it with clean soft cloth, and placed the buns inside, smiling: “Aunt Zhao, these buns look better than the fancy restaurants outside, every one with a flower on top.”

Aunt Zhao glanced proudly: “That whole batch is Xiao Yun’s handiwork—only she can twist buns with flowers that don’t have dough lumps in the middle. I can’t do it.”

Xiao Yun’s cheeks flushed slightly; she pursed her lips and quietly closed the lid: “Yunshu, this is the last basket.”

All the buns were steamed and delivered to the securities exchange just after ten thirty. Outside, a long queue of almost all men stretched out, crazier than the day before when people scrambled for down jackets at the department store.

Xie Yunshu clicked her tongue: “Can this stuff really make money?”

Xie Mingcheng nodded: “There are only two stocks. The Feile stock issued in September—someone bought fifty shares at once and expects to make fifty yuan profit when it trades in October.”

Xie Yunshu’s eyes widened: “You do nothing and make fifty?”

Xie Mingcheng’s eyes glimmered with hidden passion as he nodded: “Right, just buying and selling. It’s that simple.”

No wonder people were crazy to grab these—it’s like picking money off the street. Xie Yunshu felt tempted but cooled down in the cold wind: “There’s no such thing as free lunch; it’s like gambling. Someone’s definitely losing…”

“Yes, you can win fifty or lose fifty. But it’s different from gambling. You have to study national policies and the business prospects of the companies. I think future stock prices are also linked to international situations, though luck does play a part.”

Xie Mingcheng explained stocks fluently, prompting Xie Yunshu to warn him with a glance: “Don’t start learning this.”

Xie Mingcheng laughed: “Sis, I don’t have money for this. One share starts at fifty yuan.”

Buying ten shares means a thousand yuan—not something most old folks can afford when their monthly salary is so little. People like them should earn steady money, at least that’s what Xie Yunshu thought.

Though called “small steamed buns,” to save trouble they were bigger than usual, costing one cent each—five was enough to fill a grown man’s stomach. Xie Yunshu sold them a little higher but with real meat filling. Some customers happily bought several more after eating, saying they wanted to take them home for their wives and kids.

By seven o’clock, more than half of the fifty buns were sold, making Xie Yunshu very happy. She handed one to Xie Mingcheng: “Eat this to warm up. It’s cold out here, you need to eat enough.”

Xie Mingcheng bit into it, a smile appearing on his handsome face: “Sis, it’s really good.”

Seeing the buns running low, Xie Yunshu’s eyes curved into a smile as she silently did the math. Yesterday’s profit was nearly fifty yuan; adding today’s buns and lunch boxes, they could make over seventy yuan. Another day’s work might end the business.

The securities exchange was soon to close for holidays. If someone got jealous of her business and started selling food too, competition would kill profits.

Still, earning a hundred yuan was enough. After three busy days, she could buy back the down jacket Xie Mingcheng had returned. If he dared return it again, she swore she’d break his legs.

With about ten buns left, Xie Yunshu planned to take some home when a man in a black down jacket standing by the tricycle said, “Give me the rest.”

Without hesitation, she agreed and took out some kraft paper: “They’re still hot, I’ll wrap them well—taste best while warm!”

She looked up and froze: “Captain Shen? You’re buying stocks too?”

Shen Suxiao raised his eyebrows slightly, glancing indifferently at Xie Mingcheng beside her: “Looks like your business is doing well. Can you handle it all by yourself?”

Xie Yunshu proudly tugged at Xie Mingcheng: “My little brother’s helping me. He’s a senior in high school, taking college entrance exams this year!”

And he’d definitely get into a great university!

Shen Suxiao nodded: “That’s good.”

So it was the younger brother in high school—no wonder he was so young and looked so close to her…