Returning to the small mountain village of '86, intelligence updated daily.

Zhou Rui went home; it was almost noon by then.

Zhao Jianjun gave him a small "deposit," fifty yuan—five "big unity" bills that still smelled of ink.

The two argued for quite a while over the ten yuan "errand fee".

In the end, it was Zhao Qingya who "helped" her father by not accepting the ten yuan.

This also aligned with Zhao Jianjun's intentions, but after thinking about it, he felt something was off, though he couldn't quite put his finger on it.

When they got home, Zeng Jiamei and Yang Laidi were cooking, while the grandparents went out for a walk.

Ever since Zhou Rui hunted the wild boar, the family has never let the two elderly people work in the fields again.

Actually, there wasn't much work to do during this period, as the two elderly people just couldn't stay idle.

Before this, I always liked to dig up some wild grass, such as houttuynia cordata and lamb's quarters.

Now, if they're not allowed to work, they feel uneasy and still wander around the village several times a day.

Zhou Ming had also gotten up early and was working on the bamboo crafts that Zhou Rui had been making with his father a few days ago.

"Brother, how did you write this? I've been studying it for ages and I still can't figure it out."

A few days ago it rained and none of the group went out, so Zhou Rui helped make some furniture, including winnowing baskets and bamboo baskets.

These things can be kept for personal use or sold at the market.

Zeng Jiamei's voice came from the side.

"Do you have the ability to learn it?"

"Your dad and your brother both studied it for a long time."

This wasn't Zeng Jiamei deliberately trying to discourage Zhou Ming; the skill of weaving things inherently requires a certain amount of ingenuity.

In rural areas, some people make a living solely from this skill; they are bamboo weavers.

A skilled bamboo craftsman can weave bamboo furniture that will not scratch the body, and the weave will be tight and the force will be evenly distributed.

In ordinary households, if they take good care of it, the main structure can usually last for eight to ten years without breaking down.

This is a craft that a true artisan relies on for a living.

Their money-making skills aren't easy to learn.

This group lives a relatively comfortable life in each village, neither rich nor poor.

Zhou Shiwei initially learned from a master.

Zhou Rui learned it from his own father.

This is also one of Zhou Shiwei's sources of income.

The villagers often praised Zhou Shiwei, the eldest son of the Zhou family, partly because he was very knowledgeable.

He was skilled in both academics and martial arts, working as a school helper and lecturer, and also capable of wielding a spear and riding a horse.

Even after Zhou Shiwei became disabled in his previous life, he still relied on his bamboo weaving skills to bring income to his family. With the help of Zhou Shijie, who later became the head of the household, the two brothers worked together to prevent the Zhou family from collapsing in an instant.

The villagers' admiration for him was not unfounded, and there were reasons why Li Dehua dared not provoke Zhou Shiwei.

Upon hearing his mother's words, Zhou Ming's competitive spirit was immediately aroused.

"Mom, don't look down on me. If my brother can learn it, I can definitely do it too. Brother, you teach me."

Zhou Rui, looking relaxed, walked up to his younger brother and, without reservation, began to explain some of the essentials of bamboo weaving.

But clearly, this is not something that can be learned in a few words or a day or two.

Zhou Rui only taught the most basic introductory techniques.

Zhou Ming was clearly embarrassed; he hadn't expected it to be this difficult.

Just as Zhou Ming was getting anxious, Zhou Rui said in a calm tone:

"Brother, you can't rush things when doing handicrafts, and you can't rush anything."

"Observe calmly, and learn and think more."

"Only by calming down can you find the key points more quickly. If you are always in a hurry, even simple things will become difficult."

Zhou Rui was very patient and cared deeply for his younger brother.

In his previous life, after his grandfather passed away and his father became disabled, Zhou Ming, who was originally playful and youthful, became much more mature.

When I collapsed at my hospital bedside, it was mostly my younger brother who took care of me.

Meanwhile, his wife, whom he had only casually found, was secretly plotting to divide the family fortune...

Zhou Ming has admired his older brother since childhood and takes Zhou Rui as his role model in everything.

The two had a very good relationship, unlike many siblings in rural areas.

Some even resorted to violence to fight over their meager inheritance.

This situation would not happen in the Zhou family, due to their family education from top to bottom.

After Zhou Rui's guidance, Zhou Ming gradually calmed down and carefully watched his brother's movements after several failures.

I finally learned a basic bamboo weaving technique before lunch.

Zhou Ming was very happy and held up the very simple bamboo product, which was only in the beginning of its weaving process, to show off.

"Mom, look, I've learned it! I'm not stupid!"

Zeng Jiamei shook her head, but instead of discouraging Zhou Ming's eagerness to learn, she encouraged him.

In fact, anyone could see that Zhou Ming hadn't even entered the basics yet.

However, the Zhou family atmosphere does not involve the kind of suppression or comparative education.

Zhou Rui also offered his affirmation and encouragement.

"You're amazing, little brother. You've learned this technique so quickly. In a few years, not only will my skills be better than yours, but even Dad might not be able to match yours."

Zhou Ming scratched his head, feeling a little embarrassed. He knew that his "three tricks" were only half-baked, and he didn't dare to embellish his reputation any further.

"Brother, let's forget about matching Dad's skill. He's almost the best bamboo weaver in our village. Didn't you hear Grandpa Qian saying that about Dad?"

As Zhou Ming spoke, he then imitated the serious yet somewhat helpless voice of a rigid old man.

"Zhou Jiawei, you're a promising young man. Your skills are probably not much worse than mine—in another two years, even this old man might not be able to catch up."

Zhou Rui was amused by his younger brother's tone and put his hand on his shoulder.

"It's alright, our old man won't hold it against Ming."

Zhou Ming gave an awkward smile.

Seeing this, Zeng Jiamei quickly urged the two brothers to stop bickering and go eat.

Zhou Ming dashed into the inner room.

Zhou Rui followed him into the inner room.

Grandpa and Grandma came back right on time. The two elderly people always made sure to go for a couple of walks around noon before heading home.

On the table, there was a bowl of braised pork left over from last night, a cold dish of houttuynia cordata salad, two cucumbers smashed in it, garnished with chopped green onions and chili powder, and mixed well.

Then I cooked a cabbage, with dipping sauce on the side, and served it with fermented bean curd.

Zhou Rui's appetite was whetted as he looked at the food on the table; his favorite dish was cold-dressed houttuynia cordata.

However, many people cannot eat this food, especially children from outside the southwest; some people even feel nauseous just from the smell.

However, this delicacy is something that people who like it can never get tired of, while those who don't like it avoid it like the plague.

After a meal that wasn't quite enough with drinks, Zhou Rui, accompanied by Zhou Ming, headed back towards the Zhao family home to pick up Zhao Qingya.

On the way, Zhou Ming seemed to understand something and grinned at Zhou Rui.

"Hey bro, so you've been going to Uncle Zhao's house so often because you're looking for your sister-in-law..."