Chapter 66: Early Departure

At five in the morning, Li Zhuiyuan lifted his head and sat up, leaning back in the chair with half-closed eyes.

He stayed in that position until five thirty. As his senses gradually returned, his head throbbed with pain. His pupils refocused, and consciousness began to drift back.

Li Zhuiyuan pressed his palms to his forehead, gently kneading it.

He had no idea when he’d fallen asleep, nor when exactly he’d woken up.

After another fifteen minutes of rest, he took a deep breath and looked toward his desk—only to see a puddle of blood. His workbook for calculations was stained red.

His gaze swept over the crossed-out lines on the page, and a sharp jolt shot through his brain. He snapped the workbook shut.

Bit by bit, the memory returned—hadn’t he been trying to calculate his own Fate Structure?

Apparently, that was a bad idea.

He glanced at the time, then stood to tidy the desk. Afterward, he took the washbasin to shower and scrubbed the bloodstained clothes before hanging them to dry.

Once everything was in order, he didn’t return indoors. Instead, he sat in the rattan chair on the balcony, the one meant for reading.

The chill morning breeze brushed his face, bringing some clarity back into his body. His head still ached, but he felt more awake.

The light in the eastern bedroom flicked on. Through the window, he saw a small figure sitting down, with an adult figure behind her, combing her hair.

So A-Li always got up this early.

As he watched, the silhouettes disappeared from the window, and the sky hovered at that final moment of gray-black.

The main door of the eastern house opened. The girl stepped out, clutching a small wooden box for Go pieces.

She looked up and saw Li Zhuiyuan already seated outside his second-floor room. Their eyes met.

Soon, Qin Li walked over and sat beside him on a small stool.

She didn’t spread out the oiled paper Go board like usual. Instead, she simply looked at him.

After a moment, Li Zhuiyuan felt a warm, soft little hand gently take his.

Maybe in the girl’s mind, every time he held her hand, she felt comforted and at peace. So this time, she took the initiative, hoping to offer the same comfort in return.

They sat there hand in hand, watching the sea of rice sway gently in the early breeze, witnessing the gray dawn gradually yield to morning light.

Time passed slowly. And yet it also flew by.

“Achoo!”

Li Sanjiang stepped out of his bedroom and sneezed.

He turned and saw the boy and girl sitting side by side. He suddenly thought of the young boy and girl figures seated beneath the Bodhisattva in traditional New Year prints.

Not because they looked like them exactly—but because these two children were so finely featured, they had that same soft, round-line charm seen in the paintings.

Li Sanjiang sniffled, rubbed his nose with the back of his hand. He’d been noticing his own changes lately. He used to think living and dying alone was fine. But ever since Little Yuanhou showed up, he’d truly come to enjoy the sweetness of late-life grandparenting.

Aunt Liu called them in for breakfast.

Breakfast was especially early today because both Li Sanjiang and Li Zhuiyuan had to head out.

Instead of porridge, they had instant noodles—three-flavor Yi noodles.

Under each bowl of noodles, Aunt Liu had nestled a poached egg.

The noodles were delicious. At first, Li Zhuiyuan didn’t feel hungry, but after a few bites, it was like the numbness in his body melted away. He quickly finished a bowl.

Aunt Liu went and made him another.

Only after finishing the second bowl did he feel like he’d finally shaken off the aftereffects of last night’s fortune-telling attempt.

“Want more?” Aunt Liu asked.

“I’m full, Aunt Liu.”

Beside him, Qin Li also set down her chopsticks. She ate noodles slowly, always sucking in equal lengths before biting, chewing, swallowing, and going in for the next strand.

Li Sanjiang finished too. Smacking his lips, he said, “To be honest, these instant noodles don’t hold a candle to the Yangchun noodles at the town’s noodle shop. Bit of lard, soy sauce, white pepper, sprinkle on some scallions—now that’s a bowl.”

Aunt Liu chimed in, “That’s true.”

If someone else’s parents said that, they’d probably be angling to stop buying instant noodles and save money.

But that wasn’t Li Sanjiang’s style. A single ruined batch of paper effigies could nearly cut off his cash flow, showing how little he saved. Every penny went into daily living—especially food and drink.

Truth was, in most rural towns, eating instant noodles for breakfast was enough to make the neighbor kids weep with envy.

In some provinces, they’d even turned instant noodles into a local specialty dish—like meatball noodles with a poached egg.

Li Sanjiang hefted his pack and stomped his feet, ready to head out.

His pack was extra long—because it held the Peachwood Sword too. Ever since that sword had helped him slay a Corpse Fiend, he treasured it like gold.

He’d even called the village committee to phone the manufacturer, hoping to order more. But they told him the Shandong Linyi Furniture Factory had been privatized and had long since stopped making peachwood swords.

That meant the one he had was now a limited edition.

Li Weihan and the others arrived, each pushing a little cart loaded with baskets and tools.

“Uncle Sanjiang.”

“Uncle.”

“Great-Uncle.”

The four uncles were all very respectful in front of Li Sanjiang. He never cut them any slack. If he saw them, he’d scold them right away as ungrateful bastards. So whenever they spotted him in the village, they’d make a wide detour.

Pan’er and Lei’er happily ran over to Li Zhuiyuan. Since he hadn’t been staying with his grandparents lately, they’d had fewer chances to hang out.

“Let’s go!”

Li Sanjiang clapped the dust off his pants, took Li Zhuiyuan’s hand, and walked off with the others.

Qin Li watched him leave. She’d known he’d be going out today, but still, when he disappeared from view, she slowly lowered her head. Her eyes fell on the noodle bowl he’d just emptied.

Liu Yumei quickly gave Aunt Liu a look, and Aunt Liu darted forward to collect the dishes for washing.

Then Uncle Qin returned, carrying a huge bundle of bamboo. He dumped it in the courtyard with a thud and clapped his hands.

Liu Yumei sat beside Qin Li and said with a smile, “A-Li, I asked Li Hou to make you a rattan chair just like Little Yuanhou’s. How about it?”

Qin Li didn’t respond.

Liu Yumei pressed her lips together and told Qin Li, “Get those chairs done in the next couple days—make two, exactly the same, comfy for kids to sit and lean in.”

Qin Li nodded.

Qin Li looked up—not obviously—but she was indeed happy.

…

At the roadside by the village entrance, they didn’t have to wait long before an old-fashioned bus pulled up.

At that time, rural buses had no formal stops or fixed schedules. Though technically regulated, most were privately run. If the driver saw someone waiting by the road, they’d stop. Passengers could also shout to be let off anytime.

Li Sanjiang still wanted to say a few more words to Little Yuanhou, but the bus came too fast. He had to get on first. Once the bus pulled away, Li Weihan lifted Li Zhuiyuan and placed him in the pushcart his eldest brother Li Sheng had brought.

Then the whole group walked along the roadside. Before long, they caught up with the team from Siyuan Village.

Most were able-bodied men from the village. Few women. That was because the riverbed excavation project was in its final stages—labor needs had dropped sharply.

A few decades back, at certain times of year, nearly every rural area in Jiangsu—men, women, old, and young—would be mobilized. Villages near rivers built levees; others dug reservoirs.

Sometimes, for key state projects, entire crews would be sent to distant areas to work together.

In the freezing winter winds, with barely any equipment, everything relied on manpower.

Anyone of age had to go. The projects lasted so long, workers lived on site, brought their own food, and built their own shelters.

Countless elders had suffered lifelong ailments from the grueling work.

Eldest Uncle Li Sheng laughed and said, “Remember when we were kids, hauling river dirt with Mom and Dad? Dad used to tell us—don’t study hard, and this’ll be your life. Ha!”

The three uncles laughed along.

Second Uncle Li Zheng said, “In the end, all that talk was wasted. None of us had the brains for school. Only little sis made it out.”

Third Uncle Li Xiong nodded. “Exactly. Mom was biased when she gave birth. Saved all the smarts for our sister.”

Li Weihan pretended to get angry and barked with a grin, “You brats talk crap. If you could’ve made it in school, you think I wouldn’t have busted my ass to pay your tuition?”

Everyone burst into laughter again, tossing barbs and jokes back and forth.

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