HNYWEF -Chapter 89 Seeking Roots

Qingming era, third year of Zhenguan — 3rd day of 2nd lunar month.

Zhou Xiong finished forging the last hoe, quenched it in water, and set it on the rack.

Zhou Hong had already extinguished the furnace, cleaned out the ashes, and tidied the workshop until it was spotless.

Zhou Yi squatted at the doorway, watching the darkening sky outside, idly counting stars.

Zhou Xiong wiped his hands.

“Zhou Hong.”

Zhou Hong turned around.

“What?”

Zhou Xiong pointed at the jar of wine on the table.

“A drink?”

Zhou Hong froze for a moment.

It had been half a month since he arrived, and his older brother had never once invited him for a drink. Normally, they just worked, ate, and went their separate ways—barely speaking a few words.

He looked at the wine jar, then at Zhou Xiong.

“Alright.”

Zhou Yi noticed the movement and ran in from the doorway.

“Can I drink too?”

Zhou Xiong gave him a sideways glance.

“What are you thinking? What kind of kid drinks wine?”

Zhou Yi pouted but still obediently sat down by the table.

Zhou Xiong poured the wine.

Two bowls.

Zhou Hong picked his up and sniffed it.

“This is good wine.”

Zhou Xiong didn’t respond. He took a sip.

Zhou Hong also drank.

Then set the bowl down.

Zhou Xiong looked at him.

“Talk?”

Zhou Hong paused.

“Talk about what?”

Zhou Xiong said, “About the past.”

Zhou Hong’s brows twitched slightly.

“Don’t you not remember any of it?”

Zhou Xiong nodded.

“That’s why I want to hear it.”

Zhou Hong looked at him for three breaths of time.

Then suddenly he smiled.

“Alright, let’s talk!”

He slammed his bowl on the table and leaned back. In an instant, his whole demeanor changed.

Zhou Yi watched from the side, eyes wide.

The usually quiet, taciturn second uncle now looked like a completely different person.

Zhou Hong began speaking, his voice suddenly louder.

“Brother, do you know? The year you left, I was only fifteen! Fifteen! I didn’t understand anything. How was I supposed to live on my own, do you know that?”

Zhou Xiong held his bowl and said nothing.

Zhou Hong continued.

“I worked as an assistant at an old blacksmith’s workshop in the village. Besides forging iron, I cleaned the yard, chopped wood, carried water—whatever dirty, tiring work there was, I did it.”

As he spoke, he suddenly laughed at himself.

“You know that old blacksmith had a terrible temper. He cursed at people all the time. I was stupid and slow at learning, so he cursed me even worse. But what could I do? I had nowhere else to go. I could only stay there and endure it.”

Zhou Xiong took a sip of wine.

Zhou Hong also drank.

“Later he died, and I took over his workshop. I forged iron for a few years myself, saved up some money, and then I set out to find you.”

He suddenly looked at Zhou Xiong.

“Brother, do you know how I found you?”

Zhou Xiong shook his head.

Zhou Hong slapped his thigh.

“I went to Luoyang. Someone said they’d seen a blacksmith who looked like you in Chang’an, so I came here.”

He finished and burst into laughter.

Zhou Yi listened, completely stunned.

He looked at his uncle, then at his father.

His father sat there holding the wine bowl, his expression unreadable.

But his eyes—

Zhou Yi suddenly felt that even his father seemed slightly shaken by his uncle’s energy.

Zhou Hong drank again.

“Brother, do you still remember our old house? There was a jujube tree in the back yard. Every autumn it bore sweet, crisp fruit. When you were little, you climbed it to pick jujubes, fell down, and limped for half a month.”

Zhou Xiong paused slightly.

Zhou Hong continued.

“And the river east of the village. In summer we went fishing there. You couldn’t catch anything no matter how hard you tried and got so angry you cursed. I caught several fish, and you threw stones at me.”

As he spoke, he laughed again.

Zhou Xiong listened in silence.

Zhou Hong talked for a long while, then suddenly stopped.

He looked at Zhou Xiong.

“Brother… you really don’t remember anything at all?”

Zhou Xiong was silent for a moment.

Then he shook his head.

“I don’t remember…”

Zhou Hong looked at him.

He looked for a long time.

Then he suddenly smiled.

“If you don’t remember, then you don’t remember.”

He poured himself another bowl of wine.

“Anyway, I remember it well enough.”

Zhou Yi, standing nearby, couldn’t help but speak up.

“Second Uncle, you and my dad… did you really fight all the time when you were kids?”

Zhou Hong glanced at him.

“We did. Why wouldn’t we? He was older and always bullied me. Later when he wasn’t around anymore, I even missed being bullied by him once more.”

He paused after saying that.

Then he froze slightly.

He raised his wine bowl and took a big gulp.

Zhou Hong looked at him.

Three breaths passed.

Then he also lifted his bowl and drank.

Zhou Hong set the bowl down and suddenly looked at Zhou Hong.

“Brother, how’s your life now?”

Zhou Hong said, “Not bad.”

Zhou Hong nodded.

“That’s good.”

He took another sip.

“If you’re doing well, that’s enough. If you still dislike me, I’ll leave tomorrow.”

Zhou Hong looked at him and smacked the back of his head.

“Who said I dislike you?”

Zhou Hong froze for a moment.

Zhou Hong put his bowl down.

“Stay.”

Just two words.

Zhou Hong stared at his older brother.

His eyes suddenly turned red.

But he didn’t cry.

He lifted his bowl and clinked it against his brother’s.

“Alright.”

They both drank.

Zhou Yi watched from the side and suddenly felt the room was a little warm.

Not the warmth of the stove.

Something else.

He couldn’t explain it.

Zhou Hong spoke again.

“Brother, do you know how many places I’ve been looking for you over these years?”

Zhou Hong looked at him.

Zhou Hong continued, “Shandong, Henan, Hebei, Shanxi… I’ve been everywhere. Once in Bingzhou, I almost got arrested as a deserter.”

As he spoke, he laughed at himself first.

Zhou Hong’s lips twitched slightly.

Zhou Yi noticed it.

Just for a moment.

Zhou Hong continued, “There was another time in Luoyang…”

Once the words started, they poured out endlessly.

As he spoke, he suddenly stopped.

He looked at Zhou Hong.

“Brother, am I pretty foolish?”

Zhou Hong didn’t answer. He shook his head slightly and smiled.

Then he lifted his bowl and clinked it against Zhou Hong’s.

Zhou Hong froze for a moment.

Then he smiled.

A smile exactly like his brother’s.

The two of them drank bowl after bowl.

Zhou Yi watched from the side. At first he was still listening, but gradually his eyelids grew heavy.

Before he knew it, he had fallen asleep on the table.

When he woke up, his father and second uncle were still drinking.

The wine jar on the table had been emptied and replaced with another.

Zhou Hong’s voice was still as loud as ever.

“Brother, I’m telling you, after that old blacksmith died, I handled his funeral. He had no children, no relatives—only me as his apprentice. I buried him and kowtowed three times at his grave.”

Zhou Hong listened without speaking.

Zhou Hong continued, “At that time I thought, if I could find you, we’d live together. If you had died, I would’ve still kowtowed to you three times.”

He paused for a moment.

Then suddenly laughed.

“Good thing you didn’t die.”

Zhou Hong looked at him.

He looked for a long time.

My little brother really does have a silver tongue.

“Hey, what do you mean by that?”

The two of them were still drinking, still talking, still laughing.

Zhou Yi suddenly felt that this second uncle… seemed pretty good too.