If it were his son crying like that, Captain Zhao would have scolded him long ago.
But now it was his grandson.
And he was fussing about wanting to go home.
"Alright."
Mrs. Zhao, leading the two little ones, headed to Laosan's house.
It was getting dark, and the collective farm members were no longer working in the fields. Some families only ate two meals a day to save on kerosene lamps; they had dinner before it was fully dark.
And they went to bed early as well, before nightfall.
This meant that when Mrs. Zhao took Da Bao and Xiao Bao home, there were hardly any people to see them.
Da Bao had a key hanging around his neck, the key to the courtyard gate.
"Hungry?"
Both Da Bao and Xiao Bao shook their heads. The two brothers sat on a small stool at the entrance of the hall, staring at the courtyard gate, waiting for their parents to come back.
Mrs. Zhao picked up the enamel cup from the table and started to mix the milk powder.
"Come and drink your milk."