Chapter 56

Chapter 56

This morning was pure chaos. By the time Bian Hong had calmed down and gotten back to building the stove, the mud he'd mixed was already starting to dry.

He let out a sigh as the man finally finished getting dressed, crouched beside him, and poured some clean water into the dried-out mud.

"Just needs a little more water," he said, then without another word, sank his big hands into the yellow mud.

Bian Hong glanced at him and saw that the man's ears were still slightly red, so he said nothing more. The two of them knelt side by side, mixing the mud together.

But what he'd seen that morning was way too much of a visual shock for Bian Hong, leaving him at a loss for words with Rong Feng, who was deliberately crowding up next to him.

But being a man himself, he honestly had a fleeting urge to turn and ask, "With something that big, doesn't it get heavy when you walk?"

And the guy never wore underwear—when he ran, didn't it just flop all over the place?

Bian Hong couldn't help but snicker at the thought.

Rong Feng had no clue what was going through the head of this dead-serious man beside him. He only saw Bian Hong crack a smile, which put his heart at ease, thinking that the whole morning thing was behind them.

Tonight, they'd sleep like they always did.

But the two of them rarely got much time alone together. Sure enough, the moment Yuan Ding and Guan Bao finished breakfast, they came running over to the mud pile.

They swore up and down they wanted to help Brother Xi build the stove, but really they just wanted to play with the mud. Bian Hong didn't call them out on it—he just rolled up both boys' sleeves and handed each of them a big lump of mud, telling them to squish it into whatever they wanted.

Having pacified Yuan Ding and Guan Bao, Bian Hong had completely forgotten that they now had one more little terror in the house.

The bear cub, having just finished its potatoes inside, looked up and saw that not a single person was around. Its cub instincts told it that straying too far from the pack meant danger was coming.

So it took two bites of the leftover rice porridge and meat juice, trotted a few steps toward the door to find its "brothers," then—at the doorway—couldn't stand to leave its food, so it whined, scurried back, wolfed down a couple more bites, then ran for the door again.

It went back and forth like that for a while, until the bowl was finally licked clean. Then the little bear, like a tiny pickup truck, busted through the kitchen door and rolled its round body right up to Yuan Ding and Guan Bao.

Just as its paw was about to dig into the mud, Bian Hong's quick eyes caught it. He spun around, grabbed the little thing's paws, and half-dragged, half-carried it back inside. He shut the door but opened the window so the cub couldn't get out but could still see everyone.

The reason he wouldn't let it play in the mud, besides the mess it would make, was the most important one: bears are hard to wash. Really, really hard to wash.

Bian Hong had nearly lost his mind the one time he gave it a bath. He didn't even want to think about how he'd deal with it if this filthy little thing got covered in mud—it would probably fling mud everywhere.

So while Bian Hong and Rong Feng worked on the stove outside, anxious little "hmph hmph" noises kept coming from the house. When they turned to look, the cub was perched on the windowsill, paws hooked over the edge, looking utterly pitiful.

But before long, the sounds stopped. Bian Hong walked over and peeked through the window, only to see the little thing had stopped whining. It just sat on the floor with its back to them, sulking, still wearing its little bib from mealtime, sitting there like a little person.

Bian Hong thought it was funny, so he went to the kitchen, grabbed a big sweet potato, and tucked it into the cub's arms.

Luckily, even though it was mad, it never let that get in the way of eating.

So by the time the stove was done and Yuan Ding and Guan Bao had washed up and gone to find the bear, it wouldn't even look at them. Instead, it had run off to the horse shed on its own. It flopped down on the soft hay first, but that wasn't nearly as warm as the kang inside, so it wriggled and squirmed until it climbed up onto Silver Frost's back.

When Rong Feng went to check on it that afternoon, he found the little cub sound asleep on the horse's back.

Silver Frost was a warhorse that had seen it all—it basically didn't react to anything anymore. So if the cub wanted to lie there, fine. It carried the cub all afternoon and actually found its back pretty warm—not bad at all.

While washing his feet inside, Rong Feng heard Yuan Ding say the bear wouldn't come back in, so he headed out right away.

It wasn't that anything else mattered, but night was coming fast, and if this little thing wouldn't come in, who was going to sleep with the kids?

So he reached out with his big hands, grabbed the bear by its now pretty hefty rear, and carried it back into the kids' room.

It all happened in a flash—whether he was afraid the bear would change its mind, or afraid someone else would, who knows.

That night, when it was time to blow out the lamps and bolt the doors, Bian Hong had just gotten back to the sleeping kids when he noticed the pillow he'd brought in that morning was gone.

So he walked over and opened Rong Feng's door. The room was warm and cozy—way more lived-in than yesterday.

Bian Hong's eyes went to the kang, and sure enough, the man had already laid out the bedding, with Bian Hong's pillow sitting neatly right next to his head.

And when the man saw Bian Hong had finally come in, he even urged him, "Close the door and come back to bed. Don't you have to make a beehive tomorrow?"

Bian Hong stood in the doorway for a moment. In the end, he didn't say anything—just took off his outer clothes and lay down next to Rong Feng.

Lying there, he thought back to the first time he'd seen Rong Feng. Actually, it wasn't when he'd been carried up the mountain in a bridal sedan to marry Li Sanleng's girl—it was at the pawnshop where he'd pawned the flying bird bronze token.

Back then, the guy's presence had been so overwhelming that Bian Hong wanted to get as far away as possible.

But times change, and life moves fast. Now here he was, walking right into the man's arms of his own free will.

When the man saw him lie down, he draped his own quilt over Bian Hong, tucking it in nice and snug.

It was that gesture, in the warm glow of the stove fire, that made Bian Hong glance down at the bedding and think, just as he thought.

The guy still wasn't wearing a damn thing...

The next day, a knock at the courtyard gate woke them before the kids did.

Rong Feng had learned from yesterday. To avoid getting caught in bed by the two kids again, he'd gotten up early and was out in the yard sawing wood for Bian Hong. He said he wanted to try beekeeping—he'd never done it, but he was willing to give it a shot.

When Rong Feng heard the racket outside, he got up and went to open the door with practiced ease, like he'd already gotten used to the constant knocking at this little cabin deep in the mountains.

He opened the door to find the eldest son of the village head of Shangyu Village. He'd come by before when they were rebuilding the house. He was a carpenter by trade, and damn good at it—the wooden dining table he'd made for Bian Hong was both beautiful and practical.

"Uncle, how's it going? My dad sent me up the mountain to give you a message."

Rong Feng thought, nice enough guy, just a bit low on the generational totem pole.

The wrinkles on his face could crush a mosquito, and he still had to call Rong Feng "uncle."

Just then Bian Hong came out after washing up. The man at the gate waved at him enthusiastically.

"Auntie, just the person I was looking for. It's time for spring planting—the court has sent out a bunch of seeds. Officials from the prefectural office will be here at noon to hand them out. My dad sent me to tell you both—bring your household registration and land deeds. Seeds are given out per person."

Bian Hong had long gone numb to being called "Auntie," so he focused all his attention on this "seed distribution" business.

After the war, the court could finally focus on the people's livelihood. Years of disaster had nearly drained the common folk dry—forget spring seeds, just staying alive had been a struggle.

Now seeds were being handed out from the top. It would drain the already thin national treasury, but it would actually make sure every piece of land got planted. Spring planting, autumn harvest—wealth in the hands of the people—that's how you get a good cycle going.

This kind of governance reminded Bian Hong of the national preceptor he'd seen that day in the tent at the military camp where bodies were claimed. Kneeling in the snow, sewing up the remains of fallen comrades—that thin, solitary figure had stuck with him.

"Come on in and sit for a bit. That wooden table you made me last time was great—I never got to thank you properly."

Seeing how friendly Bian Hong was, the man got even chattier. "It was nothing, Auntie, don't even mention it. You two going into the mountains for medicine to cure the plague—word's spread all over the village. That's a huge deed, you're our saviors. Everyone's nothing but grateful. If you ever need anything, just say the word—there's not a man in the village who wouldn't help!"

After a little more small talk, the man left in high spirits. But before he went, Bian Hong stepped up and pressed a handful of dried jujubes into his hands.

Rong Feng found the whole thing hilarious. Watching Bian Hong hand snacks to this forty-or-fifty-year-old "nephew" was both weird and strangely funny.

But once the laughter died down, he stood off to the side, watching Bian Hong with a soft, lingering look for a long, long time.

Bian Hong, now standing before him, was able to interact with people normally, no longer trembling in fear, nor suddenly zoning out and thrashing about.

He kept everyone at arm's length even more than I did, despite my own reputation as a "Living Ghost."

Now, after seeing off the guest, the smile at the corners of his lips had not yet fully faded, and his cheeks had finally filled out a bit.

His dark eyes shone bright and lively, and he turned back to speak to me with enthusiasm.

"I asked him, and he said there's a small school in the town. Yuan Ding is just at the age for his first lessons at seven. When we head down the mountain to get the seeds this time, we can go and ask."

Rong Feng's hand moved before his mind caught up; by the time he realized it, his right hand had already instinctively touched Bian Hong's cheek.

Bian Hong was startled and couldn't help but look up at the man.

His blue eyes were like an ocean about to spill over, silver waves shimmering and rippling.

Then that ocean gaze met his, and a soft reply came.

"Alright."