Chapter 20: Son

A month later in Beijing, autumn grew deeper. Li Yuxuan squeezed the appointment letter stamped with the Army's seal, his brows knotted. The writing on the paper was crystal clear: appoint Li Yuxuan as the Education Department's Education Section chief of Sanxiang, effective immediately.

No, why is my appointment to Sanxiang? He slammed the appointment letter onto the inn's table, fuming, and it was only a petty section chief? His fingertip pressed the paper so hard it nearly tore the page; I studied artillery tactics in Germany, calculating trajectories and positioning guns, not teaching children to read and write! Has the Army gone blind?

Outside, the autumn wind swirled fallen leaves against the window lattice, producing a "rustle" that seemed to echo his irritation. He recalled his final year at the Berlin Military Academy, when his artillery team won first place in a live‑fire drill and the principal patted his shoulder, saying "You are a born artillery commander." He remembered the graduation ball, dressed in uniform, dancing a waltz with Anna under the rotating lights, her blue‑eyed sparkle brighter than the crystal chandelier in the hall.

If we're breaking up, we're breaking up—why come to Yanjing and give me the child…? He lowered his head to glance at the swaddled infant, his tone softened but still tinged with helplessness. The infant stared at him with round blue eyes, long curled lashes, a dead‑riving likeness of Anna. "Even though you carry my blood, isn't following me through these chaotic times a torment?" He gently tapped the child's soft cheek with his fingertip; the infant giggled, clutching his finger and bringing it to his mouth.

Li Yuxuan chuckled, and the fire in his heart inexplicably subsided by half. Fine, it's come to this; further resentment would be useless. He folded the appointment letter delicately and slipped it into his inner pocket—after all, it was an official Army document, not something to discard. Turning, he began packing: a military greatcoat faded from washing, a gift from Anna, who said Berlin's winter was colder than Yanjing's; a brass artillery ranging device, a graduation memento engraved with his name and class year; and the well‑creased "Detailed Artillery Tactics," its frontispiece bearing Anna's German inscription, "May you always aim at justice."

"Alright, it's time to return home." He placed the infant into a custom‑woven rattan baby basket, its rim lined with thick cotton, and tucked the ranging device and book into his suitcase. Reaching the doorway, he glanced back at the empty room—his temporary lodging in Yanjing while awaiting the appointment, the wall still plastered with his hand‑drawn artillery formation sketch, now looking like a joke.

The infant in his arms cooed twice, and Li Yuxuan quickly shook his arm, leaning down to soothe, "What's wrong? Hungry?" The infant blinked, finger in mouth, as if answering. He lifted his luggage, stepping lightly out of the inn. Yanjing's autumn wind lifted his coat's hem, bringing a chill yet unable to disperse the vague anticipation in his heart. Whether the road led to Hunan as a section chief or back home to deal with his parents, the warm little life in his arms always grounded him.

Sir, are we heading to the train station? The coachman, seeing him emerge, hurriedly smiled and called out, giving the horse's reins a light tap; the horse snorted loudly.

No, first to the department store to buy baby supplies. Li Yuxuan smiled as he boarded, the rattan basket steady on his lap. The carriage rolled over the cobblestones, producing a "clack‑clack" sound; rounding a corner, he spotted a modern baby carriage in a glass window, its nickel‑plated bars gleaming. "Driver, stop here."

He cradled the child and entered the department store; a clerk at the foreign‑fabric counter immediately greeted him, "Sir, what would you like to see?" Li Yuxuan pointed at the baby carriage in the window: "That one, I want one." He then moved to the food aisle, pointing at canned milk powder, "Two cans of this, the best you have." As the clerk efficiently packed, Li Yuxuan paused at the toy section, picking up a wooden miniature cannon whose barrel could swivel up and down, and laughed—perhaps a "family‑heritage" introduction for the child?

Back in the carriage, the baby carriage was tied to the outside of the car; Li Yuxuan held the child, his fingertips twirling the little wooden cannon. "You know, going to Sanxiang as an education chief—could that be another kind of 'aiming'?" he murmured to the infant in his arms, "Your mother always says my temper is too fierce, needs tempering." Perhaps teaching children to read is more worthwhile than watching gunpowder from a cannon? The infant, half‑understanding, clutched the wooden cannon and began gnawing it.

The carriage arrived at the train station, and Li Yuxuan bought a ticket to Ningbo. While waiting, an elderly man in a long robe beside him glanced at the child in his arms and couldn't help striking up conversation: "That baby's eyes are so bright, a mixed‑blood, right?"

"Yes, the child's mother is German." Li Yuxuan replied calmly, saving a lot of explanation.

"So you're a Study Abroad returnee?" the elder stroked his beard and laughed, noting his bearing, unlike an ordinary family.

He studied military affairs in Germany for several years, now heading to Sanxiang to manage education. Li Yuxuan gave a brief answer, then bent down to change the baby's diaper, his movements clumsy yet earnest—within this month in Yanjing, he'd gone from not knowing how to swaddle a newborn to being able to change diapers proficiently.

The elder clicked his tongue in amazement: "Studied military abroad, now back to Sanxiang to run education? The Army is visionary." Seeing Li Yuxuan stunned, the elder continued, "The newly founded Republic lacks people who understand modern studies. The education section may seem insignificant, but it oversees a province's schools; when these children grow up, they become the nation's backbone. You know foreign knowledge, perfect for teaching them practical things, more meaningful than fighting in the army."

Li Yuxuan felt something stir inside him. He had never thought that way before. Anna had also said that wars would eventually end, and children were the future." He looked down at the infant clutching his finger, then brushed his pocket where the appointment letter lay, suddenly finding the words "Education Section chief" less harsh than before.

The train whistled into the station; he cradled the child, lugged his suitcase, and pushed the newly bought baby carriage onto the train. Outside, Beijing receded, the autumn forest deepening in layers like a richly inked painting. Li Yuxuan suddenly laughed—who cares about artillery tactics; first he'd raise this little one properly. Whether it's Sanxiang or Xikou, with this child, any place is an adventure.

"Let's go, first back to Xikou to see grandpa and grandma." He poked the child's cheek, "Let them see, your dad isn't just good with cannons; he's also handy with diapers." The infant giggled, its little hand patting his chest as if cheering the homeward journey.