Transmigrated into a Grandpa, Embracing the Laid-Back Life

Chapter 42: It's a pity he's a bit too old.

That rough, thick, perforated, earthen-yellow piece of hard paper was completely peeled off.

Su Shan held it up to his eyes, examining it against the dimming daylight.

The courtyard remained quiet, only a few distant barks of dogs could be heard.

After a long while, he, staring at the paper in his palm, a kind of unprecedented brilliance erupted in his muddy eyes!

He suddenly raised his head, his gaze sharp as lightning, shooting towards Su Ming, his voice hoarse, squeezed out from between his teeth:

"Xiao Ming... tell your father the truth."

"This recipe... where on earth did you get it?!"

Su Shan's voice sounded like two stones grinding together, each word hammering onto Su Ming's heart.

The courtyard was deathly silent.

The evening breeze blew past, carrying the fresh scent of soil and vegetation from the fields, yet it couldn't disperse the solidified, tense air in this corner.Su Yang looked at his father, then at his younger brother, not daring to even breathe heavily. He had never seen his father with such a look in his eyes. It wasn't the usual sternness, but a mixture of shock, suspicion, and a sharp glint he couldn't quite understand.

Mrs. Chen and Wang Chuntao also sensed something unusual in the backyard and quietly walked to the doorway, not daring to get closer.

"Here it comes, the ultimate pressure test!" Lin Yu's voice rang in Su Ming's mind, tinged with the excitement of someone enjoying the show without worrying about the trouble. "Disciple, steady! Remember the script we rehearsed! Your expression must be innocent, your eyes sincere, your tone carrying a hint of that 'I'm not entirely sure but that's how it is' kind of confusion! The Oscar is yours for the taking with this performance!"

Su Ming took a deep breath, forcibly suppressing his heart that was pounding like a drum.

He met his father's gaze that seemed almost capable of seeing right through him, clenched his fists, letting the stinging pain in his palms keep him alert.

began, his voice carrying the slight tremor expected of a young boy, yet not panicked. "Everything I said

I really found it in that

him, the embers in

Ming knew simple repetition wouldn't pass muster. He had to fill in the details, use countless seemingly real details to construct a lie that couldn't

corner by the wall, there was a pile of unwanted old books, covered in dust, some with their covers rotting away. The shopkeeper said

without a cover, its pages yellowed and brittle, crumbling at a touch. When I opened it, a folded piece of paper

recalled the

dried paper on this door panel. The writing on it was in charcoal, very faded. I

drawn on it, cutting bamboo, smashing things, boiling in a big pot... I couldn't even read all the characters, so I guessed and pieced things together, remembering a few key words, like

that's exactly how Xiao Ming has been directing me these past few days! First

made Su Ming's

suspicion did not dissipate. He was a farmer who had dug his livelihood from the earth his whole life. He believed

book?" he asked

That book didn't even have a cover, the handwriting inside was mostly blurred too, seemed like some kind of

Su Shan fell silent.

paper scrap

thickness, its surface so rough it could scrape off a layer of skin, with tiny holes and

indeed

and brush, it could record words, it could turn intangible thoughts into something tangible, something that could

little. Finding some odd recipe left by predecessors in a worthless, tattered old book... this matter... sounded

making paper out of thin air?

and suspicion in Su Shan's heart began to be

It was fear.

abruptly stood up, grabbing both Su Ming

"Come, inside to talk!"