At that moment, the wooden door to one of the rooms slid open, and a young man stepped out.
Li Xun.
Unlike Yuntai, who had a strong, labor-hardened frame, Li Xun had a leaner build and an air of quiet intelligence. His simple scholar’s robes hinted at his pursuit of knowledge, yet his eyes, filled with worry, showed he was no stranger to responsibility.
Upon seeing Yuntai, his tense expression eased slightly.
“Brother, you’re back.” His voice carried relief, but also quiet scrutiny.
His gaze swept over Yuntai’s bruised arms and torn clothing. There was no need for words—he knew his brother had gone through something dangerous.
But before he could say anything, Li Yue tugged on his sleeve.
“Big brother Xun, Brother Yuntai played with me!” she said proudly.
Li Xun gave her a small smile before turning his focus back to Yuntai.
“Brother, should take a warm bath,” he said calmly. “We’ll talk when Father returns.”
Yuntai nodded without protest. He was too exhausted to explain right now anyway.
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But first—
He needed to hide the mysterious box.
Yuntai carried the stack of firewood to their small wood storage near the kitchen.
Carefully, he placed the strange box among the wooden logs, covering it as best as he could.
The box had saved his life tonight, but he had no idea what it truly was. Until he could figure it out, it was safer hidden away.
With that done, he stepped out into the cold night air and let out a deep breath.
Finally, he could wash away the night’s fatigue.
Time passed quickly, and soon Li Heng stepped into the courtyard.
His broad shoulders, usually upright with pride, carried a slight weight of exhaustion. A long day’s work and the night's search for Yuntai had taken a toll, but seeing the soft glow of lanterns and the sight of his three children waiting patiently at the dinner table made the fatigue melt away.
He paused briefly, his gaze lingering on the closed bedroom door where his ailing wife rested. Memories surfaced—of days when laughter filled their home, when she was healthy and strong.
But reality quickly brought him back. He turned his eyes to his children.
Yuntai, his eldest, strong and steadfast despite the exhaustion in his eyes.
Xun, his scholarly son, always calm and composed.
And finally, little Yue, with her bright, innocent smile—the very reflection of her mother.
Taking a deep breath, Li Heng strode forward and sat at the head of the table.
As soon as he did, Li Yue beamed happily, scooting closer to his side.
He chuckled, gently patting her head. "Little Yue, have you been behaving today?"
The little girl pouted, crossing her arms. "Of course, Father! Brother Xun made me read boring books while waiting for Brother Yuntai!"
Li Xun raised an eyebrow. "You can't play all day, Yue. Even great ladies must learn."
“Hmph!” she huffed. “But I’ll never need to be great if Brother Yuntai protects me forever!”
At this, Yuntai laughed, ruffling her hair. “Then I’ll have to work extra hard.”
Li Heng smiled at their exchange. No matter how hard life became, moments like these made it all worthwhile.
As the meal began, he decided to lighten the mood, as fathers often did in old times.
“In the great capital, they say a scholar once tried to cook a meal for a general.” He stroked his beard, pretending to be serious. “The general took one bite and asked, ‘Did you use water or ink to boil this rice?’”
Yue’s eyes widened. “What happened next?”
Yuntai smirked. “The scholar probably wrote an essay instead of cooking properly.”
Li Xun sighed. “You two think too little of scholars.”
The family laughed, and for a moment, the cold world outside was forgotten.
As the meal neared its end, Li Heng’s expression turned serious.
“Yuntai.” His voice carried the weight of authority. “We’ll speak tomorrow about what happened.”
Yuntai nodded firmly. He knew there was no avoiding it.
For tonight, he would rest—but tomorrow, the questions would begin.
