Farming Games are All About Grinding

April 5th Daily Log

Clink clink clink (sound of coins scattering)

Income......1666 gold (golden carp)

Planting experience +302

Foraging experience +894

Fishing experience +0

Combat experience +0

Mining experience +0

Character affinity changes:

None

Current money: 52277 gold

Historical income: 628969 gold

"Cock-a-doodle-doo"

What woke Han Qiwu was the sound of a regular rooster crowing—a sound he hadn't heard in ages.

"This sound is miles worse than a meat chicken's," Han Qiwu chuckled, getting up and glancing at the log as he washed up. All the experiences he should've gained were there.

Not bad.

Maybe it was the monkey wine he had last night; he'd fallen asleep so quickly, the moment his head hit the pillow.

Even earlier than Han Qiwu, Grandma Han walked over, happily saying, "Up so early! Hungry? Grandma will rustle up something for you to eat."

"No need, no need! Would you like some oil-slicked noodles for breakfast? I'll whip some up," Han Qiwu offered as he headed to the kitchen.

"Little Wu can make that? Alright, let's give it a try," Grandma Han smiled. Even though she didn't have to cook, she couldn't sit idle. She grabbed some baby green vegetables and, while picking them clean, said, "That wine yesterday was really something. This morning I feel quite energized."

"As long as it works. That leftover bottle of wine is yours to keep. Drink it sparingly, not too much—just a little every now and then," Han Qiwu replied with a smile.

He made a mental note to find an opportunity to visit the little monkeys again to see if they had more monkey wine. It really worked wonders for the elderly.

After kneading the dough, Han Qiwu expertly pulled out the noodle sheets and cooked them in boiling water. When seasoning, he intentionally added just a pinch of fiery chili powder for flavor—the elders in the family could handle spice, so a little would be fine.

When pouring hot oil, he used peanut oil he'd brought back himself. Heated to perfection, the fragrance filled the entire room.

"Sizzle sizzle sizzle"

The hot oil spilled over, releasing its delicious aroma.

Grandpa Han, leaning on his cane, walked over laughing. "I knew it was Little Wu's doing. That old hag of mine couldn't possibly make noodles smell this good."

"Watch me shred that mouth of yours! Wait till Little Wu leaves; let's see if I bother cooking for you at all," Grandma Han tossed the green vegetables into the noodle soup, standing up with half a laugh, half a scolding.

Han Qiwu chuckled as he brought five bowls of noodles to the table, casually peeling some garlic onto a plate.

It's a shame the garlic at home wasn't ready yet; otherwise, he could've packed some to bring over on this trip.

"Smells so good? Han Qiwu, my dear student! How come you never whipped up something like this at home? Guess love does push people to improve," Han Mama teased with a scoff.

Mr. Han shot Han Qiwu a playful "just ignore her" glance, bowed his head, took a large slurp of noodles, chewed a bit, and suddenly his eyes lit up. Turning to Grandma Han, he said, "Mom, this year's chili smells amazing!"

"It's delicious, and our son pulled those noodles wonderfully," Han Mama also agreed.

Grandma Han, engrossed in eating her noodles, waved them off, nudging Han Qiwu with her elbow to signal that she wasn't the one responsible for that chili—ask the boy for it.

Grandpa Han also chimed in with a dismissive hand wave, "Stop praising! Every year you storm in like bandits raiding everything. If you want chili powder, make some yourself."

"Heh-heh," Mr. Han chuckled awkwardly, turning to Han Qiwu.

Han Qiwu resignedly explained, "Dad, I left plenty at home. This chili powder is extraordinarily spicy, so use it sparingly—too much and it'll turn bitter."

"You're my good son!" Mr. Han gave Han Qiwu's shoulder a hearty slap, but immediately winced, shaking his hand in pain. He grumbled inwardly about how his son's arm felt harder than a rock.

After breakfast, Mr. Han and Han Mama helped tidy up the courtyard a bit, pulling weeds here and there. By around nine o'clock, they were packing up to drive home.

Before they left, Han Qiwu specially reminded Grandma Han to eat the eggs she'd brought sooner rather than later—they wouldn't be fresh if left sitting too long and shouldn't be saved.

Grandma Han nodded, pulling Han Qiwu aside to speak earnestly, "Don't worry, Little Wu. Grandma doesn't have many wishes anymore; I just hope to hold a great-grandchild in my arms someday, you get it, right?"

Han Qiwu: "......."

I knew it! She never brought it up until now, holding back to drop the bomb at the very end.

"I get it." Han Qiwu chatted with her briefly before quickly scampering off to the car.

Getting nudged to have a baby was terrifying.

An hour and a half later, the family of three arrived home.

Han Qiwu squeezed in time to take a shower and blow-dry his hair. While on the road earlier, he'd already arranged with Mr. Tang to meet near the Wangfujing KFC at 11:30 a.m.

"Should I wear some cologne? Something with the scent of a sophisticated man?" Mr. Han suggested, hoping to cheer him on.

"Oh, stop it. Our kid's still a youthful boy—what's with the whole mature man thing? That's just greasy," Han Mama scoffed dismissively.

After tidying up, Han Qiwu glanced at the storage compartment and noticed he hadn't given the sage to Han Mama, nor had he taken out the bamboo green tea or the purple clay teapot.

Might as well surprise them.

Han Qiwu returned to his room and arranged the gifts on the table, shut the door lightly, and called out, "I'm heading off now!"

Who knows, this departure might mean not coming back for months.

As he headed downstairs, he sent Han Mama a quick WeChat message: "Mom, I left a little surprise for you guys in my room."

Standing on the balcony watching Han Qiwu leave, Han Mama glanced at the message and scoffed. "All grown up now, still fussing with surprises? Old Han, go check your son's room—he says he left us a surprise."

"A surprise?" Mr. Han curiously opened the door to find a deep-hued, wide-mouthed purple clay teapot, a box of bamboo green tea leaves, and several sprigs of sage on the table.

Suddenly, his eyes grew a little misty.

"Good, good… our son has grown up," he murmured.

Downstairs, Han Qiwu hailed a taxi, nervously mulling over what to say and do when they met. While thinking out loud, he subconsciously muttered to himself.

"Mr. Tang, what shall we eat?"

Somehow, that felt kind of dumb—like he was just there for food—and he decided that outside of school, calling him "Mr. Tang" seemed unnecessary.

"Qingying, shall we head out?"

But phrasing it that way felt overly romantic, like they were eloping or something. Too strange.

The driver upfront, waiting at a red light, noticed Han Qiwu's nervous expression through the rearview mirror and chuckled. "What are you rehearsing for, meeting a girl? Boy, you look so jittery—you've got no guts! Not like me; my wife doesn't even dare to breathe loudly around me!"

Han Qiwu forced an awkward smile, and just as he prepared to continue rehearsing, the driver's phone rang. He pressed his Bluetooth earpiece and immediately began explaining frantically, "I really was at Xiao Zhang's for dinner last night, I swear! Don't believe me? Ah, come on, why go back to your mom's place? Look, I'm still working, okay? Calm down, I'll wrap up here and come back to explain. My bad—alright?"

The atmosphere gradually grew awkward.