"Whether I'm fishing or feeding fish is none of your business—I didn't ask you for anything, and Jiang Mo hasn't complained," Pan Weidong retorted.
"Hmph, you're just taking advantage of the girl's shyness. She's too polite to refuse you," Liu Guochuan fired back. "It takes her time and effort to make these things."
Pan Weidong shot him a look. "It's not like I'm asking for free."
Liu Guochuan smirked. "Then let's see how big your red envelope is."
No wonder people say old folks turn into children—these two were bickering like kids.
"Grandpa Liu, Grandpa Pan, please don't argue. This doesn’t cost much money or time," Jiang Mo said, reaching out to mediate between them.
Meanwhile, Zhong Xiaoqin secretly munched on chocolate, something her family usually restricted.
Watching the two argue, she wasn’t fazed.
"Jiang Mo, don’t mind them. They’ve always been like this—it never escalates into a fight."
Liu Guochuan huffed. "Who’d want to fight him? These old bones can’t take much abuse."
"Like yours are any better," Pan Weidong scoffed. "With your build, I’d worry you’d collapse before I even touched you."
Liu Guochuan was indeed shorter and slimmer than Pan Weidong.
Realizing this was just their usual "affectionate" banter, Jiang Mo relaxed.
Still, the older generation sure had sharp tongues.
Noticing Zhong Xiaoqin enjoying her chocolate, Jiang Mo offered her potato chips. "Grandma Zhong, want to try these? They’re mild—original flavor, not spicy."
Seeing Jiang Mo happily finishing a nearly empty bag, Zhong Xiaoqin took one. "Hmm, not bad at all."
"The cucumber-flavored ones are amazing too," Jiang Mo recommended.
"Really? Let me try," Zhong Xiaoqin said, grabbing a bag of Lay’s cucumber chips.
Jiang Mo refilled the older woman’s tea. "Grandma, you have such grace. Were you in the arts before?"
"Heh, you’ve got a sharp eye. I used to be a painter," Zhong Xiaoqin leaned in. "Now guess my age."
Jiang Mo hesitated. "Around sixty?"
Liu Guochuan cut in. "Sixty? She’s over seventy!"
"No way!" Jiang Mo gasped. "Grandma Zhong, you look incredible."
Flattery worked at any age—Zhong Xiaoqin beamed. "All those workouts paid off."
Between snacks and chatter, Jiang Mo remembered her main task.
"Grandpa Liu, I’d like your help making a Happy Sheep doll. Here’s the reference image."
She pulled out her phone to show the picture.
Officially, she was commissioning him, but really, he’d asked her to film the process.
She knew the drill.
"Let me see what you’ve got," Liu Guochuan grinned. "This is doable. Come to the workshop—I’ll start now."
Pan Weidong and Zhong Xiaoqin tagged along, curious about the video setup.
In the workshop, Liu Guochuan got to work with his tools while Jiang Mo recorded every step.
"So it’s just a regular phone? I thought you needed fancy equipment," Pan Weidong remarked off-camera.
"Modern phones have great cameras," Zhong Xiaoqin said. "But why do so many people watch woodworking videos?"
"Right?" Pan Weidong muttered, secretly jealous.
If Liu Guochuan could go viral, was he falling behind?
Wait—if the old man could do it, maybe he could too?
Unaware of his impending competition, Liu Guochuan worked cheerfully.
In forty minutes, the Happy Sheep was complete.
"All done filming," Jiang Mo said, stopping the recording. "Grandpa Liu, do you have a Douyin account?"
"Yeah, but I mostly just watch videos."
"I’ll edit this and send it to you. You can upload it, reply to comments—interact with viewers," Jiang Mo suggested.
"Sounds good!" Liu Guochuan pulled out his phone. "Show me how."
Pan Weidong edged closer, peering over his shoulder.
"Why are you crowding me?" Liu Guochuan grumbled.
"Just learning. Never too old, right?"
"Grandpa Pan, stand on my left—you’ll see better," Jiang Mo said.
Teaching one meant teaching both.
"Alright, got it? Or should I say… ‘unlearned’ it?" Jiang Mo teased.
The two men exchanged glances.
If they admitted confusion, would she think they were dumb?
"Mostly… got it," Liu Guochuan said weakly.
Jiang Mo recognized the look—classic student uncertainty.
She smiled. "Don’t worry. It takes practice."
Pan Weidong scratched his head. "So if Liu here can film woodworking, what could I film?"
Liu Guochuan: Aha! The real motive emerges.
"Grandpa Pan, any talents?"
Pan Weidong pondered. "Does making money count?"
Jiang Mo: "…"
With no immediate talent to showcase, he missed his shot at internet fame—but scored ten pounds of fish bait instead.
Pan Weidong sent Jiang Mo a hefty red envelope, which she tried to return.
Liu Guochuan stopped her. "Hmph, the amount’s decent. Keep it."
His earlier taunting had paid off.
Zhong Xiaoqin agreed. "It’s pocket change. Buy yourself snacks."
Jiang Mo reluctantly accepted.
Between these "small sums," she felt dizzy with luck.
Meanwhile, Liu Guochuan had the housekeeper, Li Chunhua, prepare an early dinner.
After multiple visits, refusing a meal would be rude. Tonight, he insisted.
Jiang Mo had no choice but to stay.
Dinner was lively and warm.
"Auntie Li, this feast is incredible! How do you make everything so delicious?" Jiang Mo praised between bites.
"Oh, it’s nothing. Just eat up," Li Chunhua glowed at the compliment.
Maybe the girl wasn’t so bad after all—forgetting her earlier criticisms.
For the elders, usually dining alone, her company brought rare familial joy.
After dinner, Jiang Mo checked the time—she’d overstayed. Bidding farewell, she hurried home.
"Now it's just the three of us old folks again," Liu Guochuan sighed after the others had left.
Pan Weidong had a sudden idea: "Didn't you say she’s working as a nanny for the Gu family? Why not just poach her? Then we’d have enough people not just for cards but even mahjong!"
"Why didn’t I think of that? I could totally recruit her!" Liu Guochuan slapped his thigh. "I’ll ask the girl later if she’s interested."
Meanwhile, Jiang Mo craned her neck, glancing around cautiously as she walked toward the Gu residence. Just as she stepped into the courtyard, someone darted out from the side. "Where have you been? Why are you sneaking around?"
"You scared me! What are you hiding here for?" Jiang Mo clutched her chest, startled.
Gu Ye crossed his arms. "A guilty conscience betrays itself. Confess now, and I’ll go easy on you. What were you up to?"
