Chapter 2

The old aunt saw Li Xuewu get up and thought she’d woken him.

“Xuewu, why not sleep a bit longer? It’s still dark—did I wake you?”

By now, Li Xuewu had already slipped on his cotton shoes, jumped off the bed, pulled on his shirt and cotton jacket, then layered his outer coat, all while replying.

“Nah! I’m used to rising early—I can’t sleep in the morning anymore, and lying in bed just feels uncomfortable.”

The old aunt wrapped her cotton jacket and stepped outside, returning shortly with a winnowing basket and ash rake to scoop out the stove’s ashes.

Li Xuewu scooped a gourdful of water from the water jar, mixed in some hot water from the thermos, and washed his face vigorously, then unpacked the luggage he’d carried back the night before and found his toothbrush to brush his teeth.

By the time he finished, the old aunt had already emptied the ashes, stacked fresh firewood, lit the fire, and boiled a pot of hot water.

Seeing Li Xuewu watching her, the old aunt said: “There isn’t enough warm water in the thermos for washing your face in the morning—we need to boil a kettle. Livestock need warm water too, or they’ll get sick.”

The old aunt had brought a large gray horse and a cart, kept in a shed on the right side of the house.

Li Xuewu nodded in agreement and stood before the mirror on the wardrobe.

The mirror reflected a young man with thick eyebrows and large eyes, but a pale face.

He wore a 1965-style green cotton uniform, its collar insignia removed, yet still radiating martial vigor.

The uniform was from the latest batch.

But the scar on his face marred his youthful brilliance, giving him an overall aura of brutality and ferocity.

Li Xuewu made a grimace at the ferocious man in the mirror.

The three red patches on his collar reminded Li Xuewu that today was still that era.

Agreed: 1965!

Li Xuewu instinctively fastened his collar button, then paused and undid it again.

This body still retained some of its original habits; sometimes, without noticing, he’d perform actions habitual to the former owner.

Just as Li Xuewu was telling himself to adapt to his new role as an ordinary worker from the future, his stomach growled, surging with intense hunger.

Since getting off the train yesterday afternoon, finding his way home, tidying up briefly, swallowing a bite, and collapsing into bed from exhaustion, he hadn’t eaten again.

The old aunt watched Li Xuewu’s small gestures, seeing he paid no mind to the scar on his face, and smiled faintly.

“Xuewu, you stand tall and proud—you’re a fine young man. A man’s face doesn’t matter; strength is what counts.”

Although the family’s attitude last night hadn’t been warm, the old uncle’s gaze toward him was tender and caring.

As a child, whenever he misbehaved, he spent every summer and winter break at the old aunt’s house.

The Li family didn’t care much for material things; Li Shun’s salary, beyond supporting his four children’s education, went entirely to food. All the brothers were tall: Li Xuewen stood 1.80 meters, Li Xuewu 1.83, and Li Xuecai, at seventeen, was already 1.78 meters—Li Xue was nearly 1.70 meters tall.

These past few years, thanks to Li Xuewen’s subsidies and Li Xuewu’s enlistment, the family could afford to eat; otherwise, they’d have gone hungry.

Aside from a small mantel clock, the house had no electrical appliances; the sewing machine was bought with painstaking savings when the eldest brother married, and neither he nor his wife owned a bicycle—since school started, they’d been cramming onto buses for work and study.

Li Xuewu left home at seventeen; the southern mess halls were decent, and he built himself a strong physique—otherwise, he couldn’t have moved so swiftly to protect his comrade.

“Old aunt, I’m not that delicate. It’s been over two months—I’ve come to terms with it.”

Seeing the sincerity in Li Xuewu’s words, the old aunt laughed and patted his arm, then studied his face closely. Last night, she’d held back from asking—first because time was short, second because Liu Yin wouldn’t let go of her son’s hand, third because she feared upsetting the child.

“Tell old aunt—how did it happen?”

Li Xuewu squatted by the stove entrance, shoveling in two handfuls of firewood, then stood and walked to the eight-legged table, sitting across from the old aunt.

“It’s all behind me. I was dodging shells, threw myself to the ground, and my face slammed into a buried shell fragment—it cracked. My head hit the ground too, and I got a concussion—I don’t remember much from before.”

lingdian.

The old aunt gasped, mouth wide open.

“How did you get back? Wasn’t there treatment?”

Li Xuewu raised a hand and touched the scar on his face.

“My comrade carried me back. They took me to the first-aid tent. Since only my face was wounded, they ignored the rest. A female doctor peeled back my skin, disinfected it with a cotton swab, then stitched it shut. The head injury I only realized after waking up. My comrade said the doctors called it minor—there wasn’t room in the tent, so they left me outside for two days.”

Li Xuewu chuckled.

“Later, the doctor checked me again and noticed something was off when I didn’t know who I was. She talked to me a bit, called in my comrades, but I didn’t recognize any of them—so they sent me to the rear. I spent over two months recovering in the hospital. Since I couldn’t handle southern conditions anymore, I chose to come home.”

At that moment, Li Shun and Liu Yin also got off the heated brick bed, dressed.

“Up so early? I heard you talking from the bed—boy, why didn’t you write to let us know?”

The old aunt lit her pipe and took two puffs.

“Better you’re back—let your mother nurse you. Remember your past slowly. Any job arranged?”

Li Shun dressed and stepped outside.

Li Xuewu looked at the middle-aged woman. Though he hadn’t observed her closely last night, he could still sense deep maternal love and concern beneath her husband’s cold demeanor and her chatter.

“It was too far away, inconvenient to write. By the time I could move, I was already preparing to return. The unit said the local authorities would arrange it. Before I came back, I got a letter saying everything was settled—standard demobilization placement.”

Liu Yin looked at her second son. She’d forgotten all his childhood mischief—she only felt sorrow.

The old saying goes: “A good man doesn’t join the army; good iron isn’t made into nails.”

Her second son’s enlistment was out of desperation—he caused trouble daily in high school, and finally got shipped off to GZ to serve under his third brother.

Li Xuewu’s third uncle had gone south in his youth, worked hard for years, and upon receiving a letter from home, arranged for Li Xuewu to join the military—never expecting the unit would be deployed southward.

The uncle asked Li Xuewu’s opinion, patted his shoulder, praised him repeatedly, sent him off with the unit, and wrote to his elder brother and sister-in-law, saying Li Xuewu showed great courage and was truly a fine young man.

Looking at this steady, ferocious second son, Liu Yin couldn’t connect him to the childhood demon she remembered.

No wonder they called it a crucible—it truly forged people. But the scar on his face would make finding a wife hard later—she worried silently.

After chatting for a while, the old grandmother also got up dressed. Li Xuecai and Li Xue, seeing everyone awake and talking with their second brother, rose to dress and fold their quilts.

Li Xuecai had always feared his second brother—never invited to play, always beaten hard, causing many troubles—he’d never dared follow him since childhood, fearing both his brother’s fists and his father’s wrath.

Li Xue had never gotten close to her second brother as a child, so she’d only heard tales of his terror—she didn’t grasp how frightening he was until last night, when she saw his return, his face radiating ferocity, and was genuinely startled.

Probably too young to understand—it was called killing aura.