Chapter 972: Calculating Scholar 27

Seeing Third Uncle Ye’s curiosity, Ye Qingtong nodded with a restrained smile. “Yes, she’s a girl from Tangjia Village. She’s very good… it’s just her first time visiting my house, so she might feel a bit shy. Third Uncle, you should come by sometime and take a look.”

“That’s fine, as long as you like her,” Third Uncle Ye said with a grin. Then he went back inside and brought out a large watermelon, placing it into Ye Qingtong’s arms.

“Thank you, Third Uncle,” Ye Qingtong said.

“What’s there to thank? Don’t be so polite with me,” Third Uncle replied cheerfully.

“Then I’ll head back first.”

“Alright, be careful on the way.”

After saying goodbye, Ye Qingtong hurried back, carrying the heavy watermelon—more than ten kilograms—worried that Tang Wan might feel uneasy or bored being alone.

When he returned, Tang Wan was still sitting exactly where he had left her, even in the same posture. Seeing this, Ye Qingtong felt an inexplicable sense of relief.

Tang Wan quickly stood up when she saw him, her voice gentle. “Tong Tong, it must be very hot outside. Go wash your face first.”

“Mm,” Ye Qingtong nodded.

He walked to the well, dipped his cloth into the water, and wiped the sweat from his face and neck, looking visibly refreshed. After that, he carried the watermelon into the kitchen.

In the village, watermelon was usually just sliced into wedges. But thinking of Tang Wan’s delicate manners, Ye Qingtong hesitated for a moment before deciding to do something different. He peeled off the rind, cut the fruit into small, neat pieces, and arranged them carefully in the nicest porcelain bowl he could find.

Worried that it might not be sweet enough, he even sprinkled a bit of sugar over the top.

Sugar was a rare luxury at the time, something ordinary families rarely used. But because Mother Ye often did heavy labor and needed sugar water to keep up her strength, the Ye household always kept some on hand.

After that, Ye Qingtong glanced at the chopsticks, then picked up a knife and split a bamboo stick into smaller pieces, crafting simple little picks. He stuck one into each piece of watermelon so Tang Wan could eat more conveniently.

Only then did he carry the bowl into the main hall.

“Wan Wan, the watermelon is ready. Let’s eat,” he said with a smile, placing the porcelain bowl beside her. “The watermelons from Third Uncle’s house are especially good.”

Looking at the neatly cut pieces, lightly dusted with sugar, Tang Wan couldn’t help but ask softly, “Why did you cut it like this?”

“It’s easier for you to eat this way,” Ye Qingtong replied. “You eat first—I’ll take some to my parents.”

“Alright,” Tang Wan said, nodding.

She picked up one of the bamboo sticks, speared a piece of watermelon, and brought it to her lips.

Compared to modern varieties, watermelons from this time weren’t particularly sweet. The seeds hadn’t gone through generations of selective cultivation.

But as Tang Wan tasted it, it felt sweeter than honey.

Because this… was Tong Tong’s thoughtfulness.

The place where Father Ye and Mother Ye were working wasn’t far. When they saw Ye Qingtong bring the watermelon, they immediately asked, “Where’s Tang Wan? Did you prepare some for her?”

“Of course,” Ye Qingtong replied at once. “You two eat quickly—I’ll head back.”

“Go on,” Mother Ye said with a nod. “She’s alone at home—she might feel uneasy.”