Going home for the Chinese New Year with a year-end bonus of 100 million

After putting his things away, Yang Fan glanced at the time; it was past one in the afternoon.

"Let's go eat," he said to his sister.

Yang Ya nodded, and the two locked the door and headed towards the village entrance.

In the village in December, the air is filled with the faint smell of cooking smoke.

Most of the houses along the roadside had put up Spring Festival couplets, which were bright red and looked festive.

Several children were setting off firecrackers in an open space. With a "pop," they startled a few sparrows that were foraging for food.

"It's a family event at my second grandfather's house," Yang Ya said as she walked. "I just heard from Mom that my second grandfather's grandson is celebrating his one-month birthday."

"Oh," Yang Fan replied.

My second grandfather was my grandfather's cousin. He had a high seniority in the village, so his affairs were naturally very lively.

After walking for five or six minutes, the greenhouse came into view.

The lunch banquet was already halfway through, but many people were still taking their seats.

As soon as Yang Fan and Yang Ya approached, someone with sharp eyes spotted them.

"Oh my, Fanfan and Xiaoya are here!"

"Come quick! There's a seat here!"

"Old Yang! Your kid's here!"

Greetings rose and fell. Several aunties stood up warmly to offer their seats, their smiles much brighter than before.

Yang Fan was a little unaccustomed to this enthusiasm, but still responded politely:

"Uncle, Aunt, please have a seat. We'll find our own."

"Don't be so polite! Sit here!" A man in his fifties pulled Yang Fan directly to his table. "Xiaoya, come too, sit next to your brother!"

Yang Ya also greeted everyone politely: "Hello, Third Uncle, Hello, Second Aunt..."

In fact, both siblings could sense the change in everyone's attitude. In the past, when they returned to the village, everyone would be very polite, but they would never be as polite as they are today.

This feeling... I don't know how to describe it, it's just human nature, and it's also the purpose and meaning of everyone making money.

Money can change a lot of things.

"..."

Just as the two sat down, Yang Jianguo and Wang Xiuying came over.

Wang Xiuying's eyes were still red, but she couldn't stop smiling.

"Fanfan, Xiaoya, are you hungry? Go and eat something."

"Mom, go back and stoke the fire so the house will be warm and you can rest when you come back."

In rural southern China, there is no central heating in winter, and every household relies on stoves for warmth.

The coal-fired stove, with water boiled on top and sweet potatoes roasting inside, was the warmest place throughout the winter.

"Mom, no rush," Yang Fan said. "You should eat something too."

"I've already eaten," Wang Xiuying waved her hand. "You guys eat, Mom's going back to clean up."

She gave a few more instructions before leaving.

Yang Jianguo didn't leave; he just stood there.

He wore his best jacket today—it was five or six years old, but it was spotless.

This honest, simple farmer wasn't very talkative; he just looked at his son and daughter with a complex expression on his face.

There was pride, relief, and a touch of disbelief.

"Dad, please sit down." Yang Fan stood up to offer him his seat.

"No need, no need, I can stand." Yang Jianguo quickly waved his hand, "I still need to help carry the dishes over there, I'll go over there in a bit."

That's what he said, but he didn't move his feet.

At this moment, a man in his forties at the table spoke up:

"Xiao Fan, you must have made a lot of money this year, right? You drove back in such a nice car. That's a Mercedes, it must be expensive!"

Yang Fan smiled and said, "Uncle Li, it's just good luck."

"What luck!" a younger man next to him chimed in.

"Brother Fan, is that an E300?"

"I checked, it costs 500,000 to land! 500,000! That's enough to build a small house around here!"

The moment the words "500,000" were uttered, the table erupted in chaos.

"My God! Half a million!"

"Jianguo, your son has really made something of himself!"

"Xiao Fan, what do you do for a living? Could you mentor my son?"

"I knew this child was smart since he was little, and I was right!"

Exclamations of praise, envy, and inquiries came like a tidal wave.

Yang Jianguo stood aside, listening to these words, and unconsciously straightened his back a little more.

He picked up a water glass from the table, which belonged to someone else, took a sip, and only then did he feel that his throat was no longer so dry.

Just then, a voice came from the next table.

"Xiao Fan."

Yang Fan turned his head and saw his aunt looking at him with a smile.

My uncle's family sat at the next table.

Uncle Yang Jianye was wearing a leather jacket and his hair was neatly combed.

Aunt Zhou Guifang was wearing a red down jacket and a silk scarf around her neck.

Yang Lei sat next to them, looking down at his phone, but his ears were clearly perked up.

Clearly, Yang Lei had also just arrived and they had just met at the service area.

"Auntie." Yang Fan nodded.

Zhou Guifang's smile widened: "Oh my, our Xiaofan is really something! He dares to dream and act, buying a car worth 500,000 yuan just like that. Amazing!"

She paused, then changed the subject:

"But you young people still need to have a plan."

"With a car this expensive, the loan must be a huge burden, right?"

"We can't let the desire to save face lead us to neglect our daily lives."

These words sound like concern, but the tone and expression clearly indicate that there's more to them than meets the eye.

The table fell silent for a moment.

Before Yang Fan could speak, Yang Lei looked up and continued the conversation:

"Yes, Mom, I ran into Xiao Fan on the way, and I was talking about him."

"The monthly payment for this car is at least seven or eight thousand. How will he live in the future?"

"Xiao Fan, you're still too impulsive."

The mother and son sang in unison.

Yang Jianguo's smile froze.

His lips moved as if he wanted to say something, but he didn't know how to say it.

This man, who had been honest his whole life, was least good at arguing with people.