Chapter 86: Tearing Down the Ancestral Home, Building Anew

The news that the Wen family’s main branch was going to build a house shocked the villagers even more than learning they had acquired over a dozen more acres of land. Everyone whispered among themselves, wondering if the Wen family had struck it rich—buying land and building houses, no less.

But regardless of what others said, the family had to get moving. After showing off his family's new land for several days, the old patriarch began hiring workers from the village to build the new house for his eldest son’s family.

Following Wen Yao’s request, the house was to be spacious. All the land around their ancestral home was put to use—altogether two or three acres, enough for several large courtyards.

On the eighteenth day of the Twelfth Month, the Wen family rose early, tidied up, ate breakfast, and set out in neat procession to Wen Xiuyi’s home.

Outside the dilapidated courtyard stood a crowd—some there to work, others just to watch. The place buzzed with lively chatter.

“They’re here, the Wen family is here!” someone shouted, and everyone fell silent, turning to watch the family approach.

Old Wen walked with a spring in his step, his pipe in hand, wife Luo at his side holding their eldest grandson’s hand, followed by Wen Xiuyi and his two younger brothers, then the rest of the family. They made their way slowly and deliberately.

“Ah, everyone’s here!” Old Wen greeted the onlookers with a wide smile, his face creased with joy, his eyes nearly disappearing in his happiness. Anyone who didn’t know better might have thought he himself was the one getting a new house.

Some, envious, pursed their lips and muttered quietly. Though building a house for the main branch was no different from building one for any other, once a family is divided, they are two households. What did it have to do with the old Wen household? Look how pleased they all are.

But the Wen family cared nothing for others’ envy.

Old Wen led Wen Xiuyi forward to greet the workers, then turned his gaze to the crumbling ancestral home.

Those few broken rooms had been the foundation of the Wen family. Now, as they were about to be torn down, Old Wen felt a pang of reluctance.

“Eldest, you do it. It’s your house now,” Old Wen said, stepping aside and signaling for someone to hand a large hammer to Wen Xiuyi.

Wen Xiuyi took a step back. “Father, you should do it. This is our ancestral home—it’s only right.”

Old Wen understood: his eldest son was giving him face in front of the villagers, showing everyone that even with the family split, they were still one family.

Without further ado, Old Wen handed his pipe to Wen Xiuyi. “Hold this for me.” Then he hefted the hammer and brought it down hard on the courtyard wall.

The mud-brick wall collapsed instantly.

“Begin!” shouted the foreman. The workers surged forward with their tools, and the demolition began in earnest.

The Wen family stood together, watching as the old house was reduced to rubble.

“Uncle Wen, do you want the timber from the demolition to use as firewood?” asked the foreman, a man in his forties known as Third Wang in the village.

Third Wang was distantly related to the Li family, but business was business—no one let grudges get in the way of money. When the Wen family approached him, he agreed without hesitation.

Old Wen looked at the old timbers and waved his hand, directing his sons and grandsons, “Take it all home.”

The men set to work hauling timber, while Old Wen stood by, watching as the site was cleared, as Third Wang measured, marked, and laid out the plan for the new courtyard.

Wen Yao lingered nearby, curious. She had already drawn up the floor plan and discussed it with Third Wang. After much consideration, a final design was settled.

Though this was Third Wang’s first time building such a house, and it differed from the usual style, he was content to follow the employer’s wishes.

“Yao Yao, Grandma wants you home to cook,” Wen Nong called as he returned from carrying timber.

Wen Yao had been “supervising” atop the ruins with her little cousin. At the call, she answered and took his hand to head home. Along the way, the boy looked back again and again.

Wen Yao noticed and squeezed his hand. “You’ll miss it, won’t you?”

After all, he had been born in that little courtyard; all his memories were rooted here. Attachment was only natural.

He nodded.

Wen Yao tousled his hair. “Silly boy, we’re building a new house now. Soon we’ll live in a big, new home—no more leaks when it rains, no more roofs blowing off in the wind, no more fear of collapse.”

“Yes, a new house,” he said, casting one last glance back before turning ahead, his longing already fading.

Though they were all villagers, the Wen family provided lunch for the workers. The fare didn’t need to be fancy—just filling and with a bit of oil.

With more land now, Luo felt secure; the coarse steamed buns she served were bigger than a grown man’s fist, generous indeed. With her own pickled radish and a dish with some meat or oil, the meal was already quite good.

Ever since Luo’s pickles had become a hit at Wen Xiuyi’s market stall, the cellar was filled with jars—enough pickled vegetables for everyone.

After the first day’s work, there was less need for supervision. Wen Xiuyi took Wen Nong back to the dock to sell goods; Wen Jun continued his studies in medicine; Wen Yao still cooked for others every few days. Old Wen split his time between overseeing construction and managing the household.

Half a month passed, and the new house’s framework took shape—anyone could make out the courtyard from afar.

One day, Wen Xiuyi, Wen Nong, and Wen Jun returned from town. Over dinner, Old Wen made an announcement.

“There’s just over twenty days until New Year. The land behind the mountain needs to be plowed and fertilized so we can plant in spring. Eldest, your business at the dock can’t stop; Jun, you can’t neglect Doctor Jin’s place. Except for you two and Wen Nong, everyone else will start working the land tomorrow.”

At his words, everyone paused, even Luo, who usually delighted in contradicting him, stayed silent—clearly, this had been agreed upon in advance.