The five siblings left pushing the cart in the middle of the night.
Only then did Zhao Tian sigh and go to sleep. The kids are grown now and don't rely on the two of them as much anymore.
As for Zhao Qingxiang and the others, they arrived at Old Yang's house before dawn.
"You guys are early, come on in quickly."
Old Yang, being older and needing less sleep, had been awake for a while.
"Uncle Yang, here's a Winter Melon."
"Alright, I'll take it. I'll go make some food. You stay for a meal."
Zhao Yanping stood up, "Uncle Yang, let us make the meal instead."
Old Yang didn't stand on ceremony, as breakfast was just Winter Melon porridge. After eating, Old Yang handed Zhao Qingxiang two dollars, but he refused it.
"Uncle Yang, we've eaten here, we can't take the money."
This porridge had far more grain than the canteen's. It was enough to fill them up.
