Chapter 54

Chapter 54

Yuan Ding nearly jumped out of his skin when a bear suddenly appeared on his eldest brother's shoulder. After all, with his limited life experience, bears seemed like very dangerous animals.

When he was little, his parents used to scare him—whenever he misbehaved, they'd get stern and say, "If you don't behave, the black bear will come and carry you off to eat you!"

Later, when his parents were gone and the village was no more, he fled the famine with Brother Xi. People they met along the way, passing through wild mountains and forests, would always mutter, "Whatever you do, don't run into a black bear—one lick of that tongue and your whole face'll be licked clean off."

So Yuan Ding had nightmares that night, dreaming that all three of them had their faces licked off—no noses, no eyes, even their mouths were gone, so they had no way to eat. Even holding pancakes in their hands, they had no mouths to bite with, and they were starving.

When he woke up drenched in sweat, he quickly felt his own face, then reached out from under the ragged quilt to feel for Brother Xi's and Guan Bao's faces.

The good news was, their faces were all still there. The bad news was, even though the bear licking their faces off was fake, the hunger was real.

He couldn't help but sigh in the dark—what good was a mouth anyway, when there were no pancakes to eat?

Just last night, he and Guan Bao couldn't sleep because they missed Brother Xi and their eldest brother. Aunt Hong came over to hold them and tell them stories—one was about a wild bear lurking outside a farmer's door, standing up in the dark, pretending to be a person and knocking, luring people outside to be eaten!

So you see, bears are terrifying things.

When Border Hong saw Yuan Ding still pointing at that little bear lying on Rong Feng's shoulder, looking utterly dumbfounded, he immediately understood the problem. So he waved Rong Feng over and set the little bear down on the ground.

But the cub seemed to have fixated on Rong Feng. The moment its hind paws touched the ground, it let out an anxious whimper, trembling as it went "mmm mmm mmm," then quickly turned around to hug Rong Feng's calf, hiding its head and leaving only its furry butt exposed.

Border Hong took his younger brother's hand and slowly guided it toward the cub. "Don't be scared, it's still little. If you raise it, it'll be your friend."

Yuan Ding sniffled, turning to look at Brother Xi, who had his arms around him. "Friend?"

He had to admit—those words touched him.

Border Hong nodded. "Seeing is believing. Touch it and you'll see."

Yuan Ding was naturally a brave kid, so he slowly reached out and gently touched the cub's fluffy butt. It was really soft.

Yuan Ding finally broke into a smile and curled his fingers to scratch the cub's fuzz. The little bear turned its head, sniffed Yuan Ding's hand, then let out a couple of hums. The boy and the bear stared at each other, and in that quiet moment, a tentative friendship was born.

Seeing his brother touch the bear, Guan Bao immediately ran over and burrowed into Border Hong's arms, meaning for him to guide his hand to pet the bear too.

The cub sat on the ground, actually taller than Guan Bao. These three little creatures huddled together, grunting and chattering in human and bear tongues, as if having a real conversation.

So Rong Feng simply bent down, let out a "heave-ho," and scooped up all three little ones—bear on his back, two kids in his arms, loaded down like a pack mule.

Border Hong grabbed the luggage, straightened the kids' clothes and hats, and pinched their still tear-stained cheeks.

"Alright, let's head home!"

The moment he said that, before Yuan Ding and Guan Bao could respond, the bear cub on Rong Feng's back let out a confident "mmm."

Which made the two kids giggle the whole way.

On the way back to the mountain, Border Hong had assumed that at this point, it would be like usual—empty mountains and wild fields with hardly anyone around.

But he underestimated the common people's determination to farm, and their stubborn, unyielding spirit no matter the circumstances.

Those who had just recovered from the plague, or those who hadn't been infected yet, all came out of their homes and threw themselves into working the land.

Sow in spring, harvest in autumn—put in the work, get the grain.

The land never lies.

Border Hong paused on the slope, gazing out over the fertile fields below the mountain.

Oxen pulling plows lowed across the fields. Men, women, old and young carried kettles and water jugs, cracking whips and stomping the earth, sweating buckets—inch by inch, plowing out a spring.

Border Hong squinted into the sunlight that bathed the earth, took a deep breath of air thick with the smell of soil, then slowly let it out.

It made him feel truly alive.

Rong Feng, walking ahead, noticed Border Hong hadn't caught up. He stopped but didn't call out—just watched Border Hong stand quietly on the stone slope, gazing at the vast, gentle land below.

He let Border Hong take in the world.

Yuan Ding and Guan Bao chattered and giggled in their eldest brother's arms, sometimes reaching out to touch the bear's ears, which were just a shoulder away, sometimes pinching the little bear paws right in front of their faces.

The little bear was quite at ease too, its two soft front paws draped over Rong Feng's shoulders, bouncing gently as the two kids poked and prodded them.

Only after waiting a while did Border Hong, lagging behind, catch up on his own—then Rong Feng started walking again.

But just as they started up the steep mountain path home, Border Hong quickened his pace toward the fork in the road.

Silver Frost was actually waiting there at the crossroads. Who knew how long he'd been waiting—but when he saw Border Hong running and jumping toward him, he flicked his mane, stamped his hooves happily, and trotted over.

The first time Border Hong traveled this stretch of mountain road, it had felt so long. Back then, he'd been dazedly stuffed into an old bridal sedan, the bearers so hungry their legs trembled, jostling him all the way up—it felt like a century, his whole body shaking and on the verge of vomiting.

Now he led the horse himself, watching the man ahead loaded down with "babies," strolling leisurely back together, feeling nothing but the warmth and brightness of spring along the way.

Before long, they were back home.

This small courtyard, hidden deep in the mountains and perched on the peak, made everyone at the door breathe a sigh of relief.

Especially Rong Feng—after spending so many days in the noisy town, he was pretty worn out. If he'd been traveling alone, it would've been fine, but people kept crowding around him, saying they wanted to see the herb-picking hero. Not just ordinary men—even young women and married ladies craned their necks, grinning and staring at him.

Rong Feng even felt a bit regretful that his blue, mismatched eyes had lost their intended deterrent effect.

And the scene of the city guards beating drums and gongs to welcome him into town—even now, thinking back on it, he still got a headache. He didn't want to go through that again...

Rong Feng's way of unwinding was chopping firewood.

They'd burned through a whole winter's supply, much more than in previous years—an entire wall stacked with firewood had been completely used up.

But spring still needed firewood. Not just spring—any day they cooked over the stove, as long as there was the smell of food, there would be the steady "thump thump thump" of splitting wood.

And Border Hong had unknowingly burned such scenes deep into his memory.

Maybe on a lazy afternoon, the man bare-shouldered, his shirt casually tied around his waist, legs planted firmly, waist twisting swiftly, driving his sturdy arms as he swung the axe, splitting the red sun hanging at the edge of the sky with each strike...

Amid Rong Feng's wood-chopping sounds, Border Hong boiled hot water, wiped and swept every corner inside and out, and the room was fresh again in no time. Then he cooked porridge, stir-fried a few simple dishes, and they had a light meal to start.

The leftover rice water in the pot was used to boil some potatoes, as a substitute for mother bear's milk to feed the cub.

Fortunately, it ate eagerly—though messily. Broth and water dripped down the cub's paws and mouth, trickling onto its slightly rounded belly.

The cub practically used its belly as a dining table, catching food scraps on it, and would occasionally reach a paw into its belly fur to pick up fallen mashed potato and stuff it back into its mouth, smearing itself all over.

Border Hong was a bit exasperated—this little thing was a real mess.

So he went back to the inner room and, with reverence, opened the small wooden cabinet that Rong's mother used to keep, took out the neatly wound thread spools, cut some coarse cloth, and, imitating Rong's mother, sat by the oil lamp in the room, sewing a bib for the cub.

The stitches were rough, and it was visibly not very pretty—but at least it was practical.

He'd just finished sewing the bib when Rong Feng knocked on the door from outside, "The water's heated."

Bian Hong quickly put away the needle and thread, then ran his fingers over the fine stitches of the new clothes inside, couldn't help but think of Mother Rong's warm smile and her final expression, faintly smiling.

There was no heavy grief, but rather a warm, fond remembrance that filled his heart.

He had begun to learn how to mourn departed loved ones—after wading through mountains of corpses and seas of blood, it was often Mother Rong's kind smile and the lively, spirited bearing of his comrades in the Tiger Guard that came to mind...

Bian Hong shook off the thoughts, carefully closing the lid of the small wooden cabinet, and turned to the kitchen to mix hot water for a bath.

But he hadn't expected tonight's bath to turn into a real circus. Yuan Ding insisted on sleeping with the little bear, so besides washing the child, they had to wash the bear too.

But this bear was a regular sinker—couldn't swim a lick and went straight to the bottom of the tub. And since it was heavy, it was a pain to fish out. Bian Hong and Rong Feng fumbled around for ages before finally getting the little thing washed, dried, and placed by the fire.

The glow of the flames dried the bear's fluffy brown fur, leaving it half-wet, half-dry, with its coat all mussed up, like a mango pit that'd been sucked dry.

But once it was fully dried, its body was warm and soft, plump and just right for cuddling.

It basically acted like Yuan Ding and Guan Bao were its littermates. Mother bears usually give birth to several cubs at once, and they're used to living in groups and sticking close.

But after cuddling the bear to sleep, the bamboo mat on the kang felt too small, and with two grown-ups squeezed in too, it was a tight fit.

Besides, winter had passed, so there was no need to save firewood and heat by all cramming into one room.

So Rong Feng thought it over, and after his bath, he grabbed his clothes and pillow and quietly slipped into the next room.

When Bian Hong came back from hanging the laundry, he saw the kids and the bear sprawled all over the kang, but no sign of Rong Feng.

He turned and opened the door to the next room—sure enough, there he was, lying alone on the cold, bare kang, without even a mattress underneath him.

He stood at the doorway for a moment, then finally spoke.

"A late spring chill can get into your bones."

Rong Feng didn't feel cold—he could sleep in a tree hollow in freezing weather. "I'm fine."

Bian Hong said nothing more, but turned and went back. Rong Feng watched for a long while, thinking he wouldn't return, when the door to the room opened again.

Bian Hong came back in thick gloves, hauling a basin of glowing coals to ward off the cold. He crouched by the cold stove in the room and, one by one, used a stick to poke the coals in.

He lit the fire, added more charcoal, then fetched a quilt and spread it beneath the man.

After that, he looked around, saw nothing else needed, and without a word, turned to leave.

But just as he took a step, his hand suddenly grew warm.

A "tiger's paw" clamped down on his hand, and no matter how he struggled, he couldn't break free.

It was Rong Feng who had grabbed hold of Bian Hong.

He clutched Bian Hong's palm.

And gently tugged him closer, once, twice...