HNYWEF -Chapter 183 Bringing Her Home

Old Liu lived on the eastern end of the stronghold, not far from the寨 wall.

The courtyard wasn’t large, enclosed by earthen walls with grass growing along the top.

Inside were three rooms. The main room’s door stood open. Smoke drifted from the kitchen chimney. Chopped firewood was stacked neatly outside the woodshed door.

Zhou Xiong stood at the courtyard entrance and glanced inside.

The layout was almost identical to Tiehua Stronghold. Back then, the blacksmiths all lived in places arranged like this.

Main room. Kitchen. Woodshed. An anvil stood in the middle of the yard, except there was no hammer resting on it now, and the forge had long gone cold. A few rusted scraps of iron sat inside.

Farming tools hung on the wall—hoes, sickles, rakes, and a shoulder pole.

No blades. No spears. Nothing like that.

Old Liu tossed his hammer beside the woodshed with a loud clang, then turned back and grinned at Zhou Xiong.

“Come on in. It’s a shabby place, don’t mind it.”

Zhou Xiong said nothing and stepped into the yard.

Zhou Yi followed behind him, with Li Lizhi walking last.

The courtyard had been cleaned thoroughly. No weeds. No fallen leaves. Even the firewood piled against the wall was stacked in tidy rows.

A few bunches of scallions grew by the wall, green and fresh, clearly just watered.

Old Liu ushered them into the main room.

The room wasn’t big. One table. Two chairs. A bench. Against the wall stood a wooden bed platform, with the bedding folded neatly.

On the table sat a teapot, tea bowls, and half a leftover flatbread covered with cloth.

Old Liu put the bread away, wiped the table with a rag, then went to pour tea.

The tea had already gone cold, and the color came out cloudy. He glanced at it and looked a little embarrassed.

“Make do with it. Brewed it this morning and forgot to change it.”

Zhou Xiong sat on the bench, lifted the bowl, took a sip, then set it down.

Old Liu sat across from him, rubbing his hands over and over against his knees.

He looked at Zhou Xiong for a few moments before suddenly speaking.

“Bear Blind Man… you came back this time to bring your wife home, didn’t you?”

His voice wasn’t loud. Much quieter than the booming shout he’d used at the寨 gate.

It wasn’t a question.

It was confirmation.

Zhou Xiong looked at him and nodded.

Old Liu nodded too.

He lowered his head and stared at the hands resting on his knees for a while.

Those hands were rough, with thick knuckles and rust permanently embedded beneath the nails, exactly the same as back in Tiehua Stronghold.

He lifted his head again and spoke.

“Your wife was buried together with the families who died in that disaster back then. Right beside that cave. You know the place—head north past the locust grove, and there’s a cave at the foot of the mountain facing east. Easy to spot.”

He paused.

“After Wagang fell apart, nobody looked after the place anymore. Nobody swept the graves, burned offerings, or added fresh soil. These past few years, I’ve been the only one who goes now and then. Once during Qingming, once near the New Year. Sometimes if I pass nearby, I stop to take a look.”

His voice lowered.

“Pull some weeds. Pack some dirt onto the graves. That’s about all I could do.”

He rubbed his hands again, slowly, one stroke at a time.

“By myself… it really got hard to keep up. Several people are buried there. Some of the grave mounds have flattened completely. I can’t even tell who’s who anymore. Yours I could still find. Every year when I went, I left a marker because I was afraid I’d forget. But even then… this is all I could manage.”

He raised his head and looked at Zhou Xiong. There was something in his eyes—not guilt, but the helplessness of someone thinking, I tried my best, and it still wasn’t enough.

“Bear Blind Man… don’t blame me.”

The room fell silent for a moment.

Zhou Xiong sat there looking at him. His mouth moved slightly, but no sound came out.

Before he could speak, another voice sounded first.

“Uncle Liu.”

Old Liu turned his head.

Zhou Yi stood there and bent deeply at the waist in a formal bow.

“Thank you.”

Straightening up, he looked at Old Liu. His eyes were slightly red, but his voice remained steady.

“These years, my father wasn’t here, and I was still too young. On my mother’s side… thank you for looking after things. No matter how well or poorly it was done, having someone there is better than having no one at all. At least my mother still had someone remembering her. Someone who went to see her. You deserve this thanks.”

Old Liu froze there, staring at the half-grown boy for several long moments.

His mouth opened as though he wanted to say something, but he swallowed the words back down.

His hands lifted from his knees, lowered again, lifted once more, and finally clenched once before relaxing.

He lowered his head and stared at the cloudy tea on the table for a while.

Then he looked back up at Zhou Yi and smiled faintly.

“You kid… you’re not like your father when he was young. Back then your father had a foul mouth and never knew how to say anything nice.”

He paused.

“But you’re better than him.”

Zhou Xiong sat beside them without speaking.

He picked up the cold tea again and took another sip.

The bowl trembled slightly in his hand. A tiny ripple spread across the surface before settling flat again.

Old Liu didn’t notice.

He stood and walked to the doorway, glancing outside.

The sun had already tilted westward. The light in the courtyard had shifted from bright to dim gold, and the shadows of the scallions stretched long across the ground.

He turned back toward Zhou Xiong.

“Rest here tonight. Tomorrow I’ll take you there. The road’s rough—we’ll need to leave early.”

Zhou Xiong nodded. He stood and walked to the doorway, stopping beside Old Liu as he looked out into the courtyard.

Then he spoke, his voice rough and hoarse.

“These years… thank you for everything.”

Old Liu froze briefly. He turned and looked at Zhou Xiong’s profile.

There wasn’t a trace of expression on that face, but his eyes were bright—different from when Old Liu had first seen him enter the stronghold.

Old Liu said nothing.

He turned back and looked at the courtyard too.

The two men stood there in silence.

The setting sun spilled across the yard, stretching their shadows long on the ground, one tall and one short, side by side.

Zhou Yi stood inside the room, watching their backs without moving.

Li Lizhi walked over and stood beside him, also silent.

The fire in the kitchen was still burning. Thin smoke drifted from the chimney, dispersing slowly into the dusk.