Chapter 2: New Family Members

Since I've come, I may as well settle in.

I've never heard of any traveler through time who finally managed to return. Even the master of them all, Xiang Shaolong, ended up staying obediently in the Qin Dynasty.

Better to make peace and live well here.

Liu Yitiao sighed and climbed down from the roof. As his feet touched the ground, his body swayed, nearly collapsing. After being buffeted by the cold wind for so long, his hands and feet were numb and unresponsive. He began to carefully rub his stiff limbs, trying to restore some warmth.

“Yitiao, you’re down!” Liu Heshi, who had been watching him all along, called out joyfully and ran out from the kitchen. Liu Laoshi, too, wore a smile, though he didn’t step outside; he simply watched quietly through a crack in the window, relieved to see his son safe and sound.

Liu Heshi pulled Liu Yitiao into the kitchen, where she had a brazier glowing with charcoal and a pot of ginger soup ready and waiting.

“Why do you torment yourself like this?” she murmured through tears as she rubbed his hands, raw and red from the cold. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t treat yourself this way. If anything happened to you, how could I go on?”

Liu Yitiao sat quietly by the charcoal fire. Its warmth seeped into his body—and his heart. How wonderful it was, to be cared for by someone. It had been so long since he’d felt such warmth, such concern and love from another.

It seemed that after the age of five, he’d never felt it again.

“Mother!” His voice was thick with emotion as he called out to her, memories of his own parents, long gone, flooding back as tears shimmered in his eyes.

“Yes, what is it, Yitiao? Why are you crying?” Liu Heshi stopped her movements and gently wiped the tears from his cheeks.

“Sometimes it’s good to cry,” she said softly. “Let it out, and you won’t feel so wronged inside.”

“I’m fine now, Mother. You don’t have to worry anymore.” He wiped his face, brushing away the tears, and managed a smile. “Mother, I’m hungry. Is there anything to eat?”

“Oh yes, of course! I’ve had something ready for you for a while now.” She beamed, rising to ladle out a bowl of ginger soup. “Here, Yitiao, drink this to chase away the chill. Your father told me to make it for you, specially. He may seem strict, but he cares about you deeply.”

Though frustrated with Liu Laoshi, she couldn't bear to let any rift come between father and son.

Understanding her intent, Liu Yitiao took the large bowl and said, “Mother, I don't blame Father. In fact, he wasn't wrong this time. I was too stubborn—Wang Shuai is not someone we can afford to cross.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Liu Heshi said, visibly relieved. “I was so worried you’d try to get back at Wang Shuai again. Later, go apologize to your father. He’s your elder, and even though he knows he’s not entirely right, it’s hard for him to swallow his pride.”

“I will, Mother. I’ll go soon. I just hope he can forgive me for causing so much trouble this time.”

Liu Heshi smiled broadly. Her son was truly growing up—he never would have said such things before.

Slurp—

Gulp—

He drank the hot soup and tore into steamed buns. Being from the north, this simple fare suited him well. To help him recover, Liu Heshi had even prepared a home-raised chicken. The broth was fragrant and delicious.

After sitting on the roof all day, he was truly starving.

Watching her son eat heartily, Liu Heshi’s heart finally eased. This was how he should be—eating, drinking, full of life. He really seemed to have let go of his troubles.

“Mother, where are Ertiao and Xiaohui? I haven’t seen them.” Suddenly, images of a doll-like little girl and a cool-faced boy surfaced in his mind.

Brother, sister—such affectionate words. ‘Liu Yitiao’ seemed to have been close to them; half of his lingering memories were of them.

His younger brother was quiet and stoic, caring deeply for family and friends despite his reserved manner. His little sister was innocent and adorable, though she never slept soundly, always kicking off her covers at night.

In these memories, Liu Ertiao and Liu Xiaohui relied on their big brother completely.

“Xiaohui’s sleeping in the other room, and Ertiao’s watching over her. You know how she tosses and turns in her sleep,” Liu Heshi replied with a smile.

Liu Yitiao’s expression softened. “Let’s save some chicken soup for them. They’re still growing. I’ll go see Father.”

A daughter-in-law will always have to meet her in-laws—if he was to live here, he needed these relationships. The Liu family was now the most important part of his world.

He didn’t bother to knock; he simply walked into Liu Laoshi’s room.

“Father.”

He called out softly.

“Ah, Yitiao, you’re down,” Liu Laoshi replied, his voice hoarse and his expression awkward.

Liu Yitiao understood his father’s feelings well. His son had been beaten badly, and as a father, all he’d done was accept a small compensation and swallow his pride to let it go. No one would feel proud of that.

He studied Liu Laoshi, this father who was both familiar and strange.

Aged.

His complexion was sallow, eyes clouded, and though only forty-five, his face looked closer to fifty-five. Years of labor had hunched his back.

He really lived up to his name: honest, upright—a typical Shaanxi peasant.

Yet Liu Yitiao felt no contempt. In his eyes, every laborer deserved respect. Otherwise, he wouldn’t have chosen to study agriculture and animal husbandry over going abroad.

“Are your wounds any better?” Liu Laoshi asked with concern.

“Much better. The cuts are healing and don’t hurt so much. I should be fully recovered in a few days. It was my recklessness that worried you and Mother.”

Liu Laoshi looked at him in surprise, not expecting his stubborn son to apologize—he’d been bracing himself for criticism instead.

“In truth,” Liu Laoshi said, “I know it’s not your fault. I failed to stand up for you. You don’t blame me, do you?”