Chapter 12: Turns Out Dad Was This Kind of Dad

“Mom,” Zhao Chunhua said, “why don’t we just dress Little Sister in those earth pants?”

The so-called “earth pants” were little cotton trousers with a big backside, stuffed with clean, fine sand. The sand was first roasted in a pan until warm—never too hot, never too cold—then carefully packed into the pants. A baby’s tiny bottom would settle right into that cozy warmth.

And if the little one peed or pooped? Easy to clean. No need for fancy diapers.

For poor families without extra cloth for diapers, these earth pants were a godsend—cheap, practical, and saved on precious fabric. Especially in winter, every infant under a few months old wore them. The heat from the sand acted like natural sterilization, and the warmth kept babies snug through the coldest nights.

Grandma Su listened, then paused thoughtfully. “Well… I suppose it’ll work. Tell Big Son to go down to the riverbank and bring back some clean sand.”

“On it!” Zhao Chunhua chirped, already halfway out the door.

She always went all out when it came to her sister-in-law.
Little Sugar Baby didn’t know what “earth pants” were—but once she wore them, she got it instantly.

She couldn’t help but marvel at the ingenuity of ordinary people.

Guess she’d just put on the original version of a diaper.

***

Days passed in a blur of eating and sleeping.
Before she knew it, Little Sugar Baby was nearly a month old.

“Maybe… we shouldn’t bother with the full moon celebration?” Su Old Man mumbled, sitting on the kang, his brow furrowed.

They’d sold some fish recently and brought home a bit of rice, flour, oil, and grain. But a proper feast needed meat. You couldn’t serve only greens on the table—would look too shabby.

“Fine by me,” Grandma Su said gently. “Our own daughter, our own treasure. We don’t need a party to love her.”

She felt the pang of regret—she wanted her granddaughter to have a real celebration—but she also knew their situation.

When Su Old Man saw her agree, he felt worse than ever.
He looked down at his baby girl on the kang, her big eyes glinting like polished glass, gazing up at him like he was the whole world.

How could he not throw a moon party for her? He felt like a failure.

Instinctively, he reached for his tobacco pipe—only to realize it wasn’t there. Right. He’d quit smoking.

“I’ll just… go for a walk,” he muttered, slipping off the kang, pulling on his shoes, hands clasped behind his back as he stepped outside.

Grandma Su watched his retreating figure. She knew he was hurting inside, but she let it be.

He wandered aimlessly, not even noticing how far he’d gone—until he found himself at the foot of the mountain.

*Scratch-scratch…*

A rustling came from the bushes nearby.

Su Old Man froze, eyes snapping toward the sound.

Out popped a gray rabbit.

His heart leapt.

He bent down, snatched up a rock, and hurled it with all his might.

The rabbit panicked, bolted straight ahead—and slammed headfirst into a thick tree trunk. It didn’t move.

Su Old Man stared. This was the first time in his life he’d witnessed the legend of *waiting by a tree for a rabbit to run into it.*

Just as he started forward to grab it, another noise erupted.

*Scratch-scratch…*
*Gobble-gobble…*

Three more rabbits burst from the brush—followed by several wild chickens flapping wildly behind them.

Chicken flight, rabbit dash—perfect description of the chaos.

Su Old Man’s eyes bulged.

All this meat!

Then he glanced behind the fleeing animals—and his breath caught.

Wild boar.

Now he understood why they were running.

The boar was coming.

He turned and ran.

This thing was massive—just one charge could crush him flat.
He had no illusions about fighting it bare-handed.

The boar spotted him too—probably figured he looked like easy prey—and charged straight at him.

Su Old Man knew he couldn’t outrun it.

So he made a split-second decision: he sprinted straight toward a massive tree, wide enough for two men to wrap around.

He didn’t plan to crash into it—he just remembered the rabbit.

At the last second, he twisted sideways.

*Boom!*

The impact shook the entire forest.

The boar, full-bodied and heavy, crashed sideways and lay still.

No hesitation. Su Old Man grabbed a boulder and smashed it down on the beast’s head again and again—until the body stopped twitching.

Only then did he drop the stone.

His legs gave out. He collapsed onto the ground, soaked in sweat.

He panted hard, chest heaving.

Then—joy exploded through him.

His daughter’s full moon feast… would have meat.

***

Word spread fast through Da Liushu Village like wildfire.

The news of Su Old Man’s wild boar hunt hit the village like a thunderclap.

Once again, the Su family topped the gossip charts.

Da Liushu Village buzzed with excitement.

Everyone—jealous, envious, green with envy, or genuinely happy—flocked to the Su house to see the prize.

“Old Su! You’re a hero! How in the world did you catch a boar this big?” asked Elder Wang, eyes wide with awe.

“Oh, nothing special,” Su Old Man said with a humble chuckle. “Just lucky. The boar ran into a tree all by itself. I just picked up the leftovers.”

Wang Elder: …
“Show-off! Just show off!”

He grumbled, tapping his pipe angrily against his palm.

Let’s be honest—this kind of casual bragging was pure salt in the wound.

If Su Old Man had said he’d risked his life, fought through brambles, climbed cliffs, and wrestled a 300-pound beast, people might’ve been jealous—but secretly admiring.

But this? “I just happened to be there”? That was unbearable.

Why couldn’t *they* get such a lucky break?

Grandma Su sat on the kang, cradling Little Sugar Baby, listening to the chatter outside. She shook her head, smiling faintly.

Her husband was pretending to be modest—but deep down, he was glowing.

Little Sugar Baby blinked slowly, her tiny mind whirring.

So… Dad was actually *that* kind of dad.