Chapter 90 Hidden Remote (Subscription Requested)

Hearing Huang Tao say "Blast your lungs," Huang Guolun nearly fainted from rage and shouted, "You've been watching TV again!" He rushed over, intent on finding the remote and turning off the television.

But after searching all around, no matter where he looked, the remote was nowhere to be found.

Watching Huang Guolun flail about, Huang Tao gnawed meat off the pork knuckle bone with his little white teeth, feigning ignorance as he asked, "Are you looking for the remote, Dad?"

"Where is it?"

"Try checking the fridge."

"The fridge?!"

"I think Grandma hid the remote in the fridge."

Huang Guolun turned immediately and headed for the kitchen.

Old Mrs. Zhou was washing dishes at the sink.

"Mom, why do you keep letting Tao watch random TV shows? And it’s way past mealtime—why is he still eating?"

Huang Guolun started complaining the moment he entered.

Mrs. Zhou shot him a glare, which took the edge off his fury.

"Tao didn’t eat enough at dinner, so I’m giving him another Tianfu-brand braised pork knuckle for nourishment. What’s the problem? Is that not allowed?"

"He never feels full! You need to control him a bit! Keep feeding him like this and he’ll end up a chubby kid!"

"You and your brother ate just as much when you were little, and I never saw either of you grow into fat boys. He’s at the age where his body’s growing—let him eat, so he’ll get taller."

"He’s not getting taller; he’s just getting fatter!" Huang Guolun knew there was no reasoning with Mrs. Zhou, so he gave up, angrily opened the fridge, and asked, "Where did you hide the TV remote?"

Mrs. Zhou was baffled by the question. "What remote?"

Huang Guolun realized something and shouted, "Huang Tao—!"

From the living room came Huang Tao’s calm voice: "Try the second compartment on the left door of the upper fridge shelf. If it’s not there, could you bring me a bottle of Yakult? One Yakult after a meal, strong body, good things abound. Hehehe."

Huang Guolun’s teeth ached from irritation, but he had to admit that a Yakult after a meal was good for the boy’s health. So, reluctantly, he brought Huang Tao a bottle.

"Thunk!"

He slapped the Yakult down on the coffee table, asking gruffly, "Where did you hide the remote?"

"I didn’t hide it. Why would I? It’s not food." Huang Tao craned his neck at the television, his greasy little hand trying to push Huang Guolun aside. "Dad, stop blocking me, it’s the most suspenseful part!"

Huang Guolun glanced at the screen—life or death, the bomb disposal moment.

He scolded, "Can’t you stop watching these crime movies?"

But Huang Tao wasn’t listening. He was in his own world and countered, "Dad, why do bomb-makers always make the fuses different colors? If they were all the same, no one could defuse them, right?"

Huang Guolun was stumped by the question. He had no real answer.

Huang Tao continued, chewing on his pork knuckle, "And those bomb disposal guys are silly, too. They see the timer, but why cut the wires? Why not just pull out the battery or cut the power, stop the countdown?"

In the movie, the protagonist snipped the right wire and the countdown stopped. The characters celebrated.

Huang Tao scoffed, "I don’t get these writers and directors—when the countdown stops, everyone celebrates? What if the hero just cut the timer’s communication wire? Boom! Now that would be exciting."

He bragged to Huang Guolun, "Dad, if I make movies, I’ll never do these clichéd endings. I’ll make films with totally unexpected conclusions—that’s what’s interesting."

Huang Guolun was at a loss with Huang Tao’s antics.

He sat beside him and asked, "Didn’t you say you wanted to be a chef when you grew up? Or a teacher, like your grandparents? How come now you want to make movies?"

Huang Tao grinned, "There’s an old saying: a teacher who doesn’t want to be a chef isn’t a good director."

"I’ve never heard that one."

"That’s because you don’t watch enough TV."

"Rubbish! Enough—where’s the remote?"

"It should be… in the fridge? Didn’t you find it?"

Seeing Huang Tao still trying to mislead him, Huang Guolun glared, "How come you just make up stories now?"

"I’m not lying. Grandma put it in the fridge, just search properly."

"I just asked your grandma—she said there’s nothing there!"

"She said there wasn’t? Maybe she didn’t notice."

"Didn’t notice what?"

"She didn’t notice I put the remote in the ice cream cone box. If I’m not mistaken, Grandma probably hid the ice cream cones in the fridge."

Huang Tao waved his chubby hand toward the kitchen, "Dad, check the ice cream cone box in the fridge. If you find it, you’ll find the remote."

He spoke with complete composure, without a hint of nervousness or guilt.

Huang Guolun’s scalp tingled with frustration. "Do you really think I’m so easy to fool? If you lie again, I’ll feed your pork knuckle to Dudu!"

Seeing his father reaching for the plate, Huang Tao lunged to protect his food, protesting, "I’m not lying! Why don’t you ever believe me? If you don’t believe me, check the fridge! If the remote is in the ice cream cone box, you owe me an apology! No, you don’t need to apologize—just bring me two ice cream cones as compensation!"

"Fine! I’ll check right now!" Huang Guolun stood abruptly, "If you’re tricking me for ice cream, today you’ll taste what a real ‘human ice cream cone’ is!"

Unable to stand Huang Tao’s constant scheming, he strode back to the kitchen, asked Mrs. Zhou where she’d put the ice cream box, found it in the upper fridge compartment, opened it—and sure enough, the remote was inside.

Huang Guolun was instantly embarrassed, uneasy—had he misunderstood Huang Tao, or had the boy set him up all along?

From the living room, Huang Tao’s lazy voice floated in, "Did you find it? If you did, don’t forget two ice cream cones to compensate me."

Hands trembling, Huang Guolun took out two cones, along with the remote, and returned to the living room.

Seeing his father’s darkened face, Huang Tao clapped his hands cheerfully, "Every man bears his own deeds. Little Ding does his own thing! Dad, you really are a man of your word!"

"Enough with the jokes."

Huang Guolun was thoroughly defeated by Huang Tao’s machinations. He slumped onto the sofa, too drained to even change the channel. Seeing Huang Tao’s triumphant air, he had to admit he’d been played yet again.

Noticing his father’s mournful expression, Huang Tao consoled him, "Dad, don’t always worry about me. I’m not a toddler anymore—I’m four now, I can take care of myself. I saw an old man on TV say something that really made sense."

"What did he say?" Huang Guolun turned to ask.

"He said, ‘We can’t lengthen our lives, but we can widen them.’ In other words, even if we can’t get taller, we can keep getting fatter—widening our lives!"

Huang Guolun collapsed, covering his face. This child could always find an excuse for gaining weight, and he was truly helpless against him. Best to let Bai Yao handle the boy.

He pulled out his phone and called Bai Yao, informing her that the special showcase was set for next Saturday. To prepare, Bai Yao would move into Purple Star Mansion starting today, and the whole family would stay there, rehearsing as much as possible.

He told Bai Yao to pack up at Bell Lane, gather all the necessary daily items. He’d return to Bell Lane soon to pack himself, then pick her up. From tonight, they’d begin their intensive rehearsals.

After calling Bai Yao, Huang Guolun finally felt a sense of relief. With Bai Yao to keep Huang Tao in check, he wouldn’t have to rack his brain so much battling the boy.

"I’ll go pick up your sister Bai Yao from Bell Lane later. Want to come?"

"Of course! I definitely want to go!" When it came to fetching Bai Yao, Huang Tao was always enthusiastic.

Huang Guolun explained to Mrs. Zhou about next week’s special showcase and that Bai Yao would be staying at Purple Star Mansion. Then, he stopped Huang Tao from eating more, and drove him back to Bell Lane to pack.

After tidying up the old house at Bell Lane, Huang Guolun took Huang Tao for a walk downstairs, helping him burn off some food.

As the father and son strolled, they happened upon the parents of Second Fat, who were walking their son as well.

Second Fat was playing with the Transformer Huang Tao had given him, cherishing it like a treasure—still loving it after all this time.

Huang Guolun had sharp ears and could hear their conversation from a distance.

Second Fat, while playing, suddenly looked up at his father, "Dad, when I grow up, I want to be like you."

Second Fat’s mother scolded, "Don’t be like your father when you grow up! No ambition!"

Second Fat’s father was offended, "How am I unambitious, with a big fat son like you? What do you want to be like, Second Fat?"

Second Fat smiled sheepishly, "I want to be like you, so I can ask Mom for five yuan pocket money every day."

Second Fat’s father nearly fainted. His mother cackled like she’d swallowed a bell, unable to stop laughing.

Huang Guolun was amused, too, and pulled Huang Tao along, "Come on, let’s go say hi to your buddy Second Fat."

But Huang Tao hesitated, his chubby feet stepping forward, then retreating.

Like a little grown-up, he sighed and tugged Huang Guolun’s hand away in another direction, muttering, "Better not. I might not be able to resist asking for the Transformer back. Grandma bought it for me—it was expensive."

His tone was full of grievance; it was clear giving away his beloved toy hurt him deeply.

To be so troubled, yet still give it away and resist reclaiming it, made Huang Guolun feel proud.

No matter how much he fussed, the boy’s heart was still kind.

Ruffling the fat, rebellious hair at the back of Huang Tao’s head, Huang Guolun led him off for a walk in another direction.