Chapter 54: Li Nian'an

In the courtyard of Yangcheng, sunlight filtered through the carved windows, casting specks of light on the blue‑gray stone slabs like scattered gold dust. In the corner, the roses were in full bloom, their pink‑white petals wet with morning dew; a gust blew a few petals down, landing on the wooden bucket by the well platform. Li Yuxuan had just stepped through the gate when he heard a "He ha!" shout; looking up, he saw a half‑grown boy under the locust tree practicing his fists.

The boy wore a short jacket, his pant legs rolled up to the knees, exposing sturdy calves; his fists swung with tiger‑like vigor. Though his moves were still childish, his waist turned with a stubborn, unyielding strength—none other than Li Nian'an, who had been training apart for several months. Sunlight fell on his sweaty face, droplets sliding down his jawline and splashing onto the stone, leaving a small dark imprint.

"Son, have you missed your father?" Li Yuxuan set his pack down by the door, called out with a smile, his tone carrying the fatigue of a long journey yet more the warmth of reunion.

Li Nian'an halted his movements at the sound, turned, sweat still beading on his forehead, streaming down his hair‑streaked brow. He was momentarily stunned, then a barely perceptible joy flashed in his eyes, quickly masked by the boy's awkwardness.

He surveyed the dust‑covered Li Yuxuan—mud on his army boots, frayed cuffs on his uniform, a shallow scar by his cheekbone, clearly fresh from the battlefield. Li Nian'an curled the corner of his mouth, deliberately drawing out a long sigh: "Oh, so it's old dad, I thought some passing soldier had taken the wrong door."

"Hey, you brat." Li Yuxuan choked a little, both annoyed and amused, stepped forward to pat his shoulder, but Li Nian'an deftly dodged. "Months apart, your skill hasn't grown, but your tongue's gotten sharper."

Li Nian'an crossed his arms, tilted his head, and said, "Well, I can't be like some people—gone out for half a year and come back looking the same dusty, grimy face." Though he said that, his gaze involuntarily lingered on Li Yuxuan's scar, betraying a hint of unhidden concern.

Li Yuxuan laughed in irritation; the boy was overly frank, even his concern carried a sting. He bent down, pulled an oil‑paper packet from his pack, handed it over: "Here, something I brought for you. The rice‑puff candy from Shancheng is sweeter than Yangcheng's."

Li Nian'an's eyes brightened, yet he still stuck out his neck: "Who cares…" He honestly took the packet, ripped it open quickly, grabbed a piece and shoved it into his mouth, asking vaguely, "But why did you suddenly return? Didn't you say you'd stay in the Southwest for half a year?"

"Nonsense. If I didn't come back, would you have any chance to touch Military Power?" Li Yuxuan glared at him, a trace of concealed pride in his tone, "I've entrusted the old masters of the several armories in the Southwest to you, plus the artillery Blueprints left by the German instructor; I had someone copy them and hide the copy under your bedboard. You think I returned for myself?"

Li Nian'an froze for a moment, the rice‑puff candy nearly choking him. He had indeed found a wooden box under the bedboard, containing incomprehensible foreign‑language Blueprints; he'd thought they were discarded papers his father forgot, but— he turned his face away, his ears flushing, deliberately speaking disdainfully, "I've seen fathers hoping for dragons, never sons hoping for dragons; you think because you're incompetent you can dump the burden onto me?"

"Cut the idle talk." Li Yuxuan was too lazy to argue, scooped cool water from the well platform to wash his face; the droplets ran down his cheeks, washing away much of his fatigue, "Alright, I don't expect a kid like you to grasp these tangled details. I came back to have you learn to read maps with the staff; there's an exercise next month, I'll take you to see the real thing."

Li Nian'an spun around sharply, the candy crumbs spitting out: "Really? We can go watch live‑fire drills?"

"There's no fake." Li Yuxuan wiped his face, "But you have to promise me, when we get there, speak less, watch more, and don't cause trouble for me."

"Then you just watch!" Li Nian'an pounded his chest, suddenly recalling something, lifted his chin and said, "Then just wait to see my moves…"

"But you're only twelve now." Li Yuxuan looked at his slender shoulders, couldn't help sprinkling cold water, "You can't even carry a rifle, what operation could you possibly run? Last time I let you lift a rifle, you swayed like a winnowing fan."

"What's wrong with being twelve?" Li Nian'an snapped upright, chest puffed high like a bristling beast, eyes burning with stubborn flame, "Does changing the world depend on age? Ganlu was a minister at twelve, why can't I command troops at twelve? Besides, I can now run three miles with a rifle, far stronger than when you returned last time!"

"Your thinking is wrong; you shouldn't take this path." Li Yuxuan's tone grew serious as he stepped before him, his gaze heavy, "The situation now is complex, factions intertwine, a single misstep leads to endless disaster. I let you study maps so you grasp the basics, not to throw you into a fire pit."

"But aren't you also in a fire pit?" Li Nian'an stuck his neck out, retorting, "You always say I'm young, yet when you went to Baoding School you were only fifteen, right? On what grounds can you venture while I'm stuck practicing fists in the courtyard?"

The two stared at each other, as if sparks were dancing in the air. Sunlight filtered through the locust leaves, casting mottled patches on their faces—one gaze sharp, bearing the weight of experience; the other blazing, hiding youthful obstinacy.

Suddenly, Li Yuxuan laughed first, patting Li Nian'an's head: "Fine, you have a point. But if you really want to learn, you must start from the basics. Starting tomorrow, every morning run drills with me, or you'll fall behind at the exercise field and lose my men."

Li Nian'an also laughed, flashing two rows of white teeth: "Who knows who will lose whose men!"

The earlier tension seemed diluted by the laughter. The locust leaves rustled, as if accompanying this awkward father‑son duo.

"By the way, what kind of ghost name did you give me? Li Nian'an." Li Nian'an suddenly remembered something, frowned and complained, crumpling the candy wrapper in his hand, "This name sounds nothing fierce, not at all a name for great deeds. Look at Zhang Zuolin's son, Zhang Xueliang—so resonant."

"It was your grandmother who named you." Li Yuxuan's gaze drifted, looking toward the alley beyond the courtyard gate, as if seeing the old house of Xikou, "She said she had no other hope in this life but that the children of the family be safe, spared from the ravages of war. When you were little she called you Stone, saying when you were born you cried like thunder, your temperament stubborn as a hard rock, unbreakable, uncrushable."

"Nonsense!" Li Nian'an's ears flushed deep red, he grabbed the oil‑paper packet and bolted inside, "Who wants such a rustic name! I won't be called Stone!" He nearly tripped over the threshold, prompting Li Yuxuan's hearty laugh.

Watching the boy's hurried back, Li Yuxuan shook his head and smiled lightly. Sunlight danced through the branches onto his shoulder, bringing a warm glow. He knew this kid's bones were as stubborn as his own, clinging to logic yet also possessing an unyielding resilience. Perhaps placing the unfulfilled aspirations onto this son might not be a dead end after all.

As for what the future holds… who can say? It's like the road at the courtyard entrance; no one can tell what lies around the next corner. But for now, the sun under the locust tree is just right, the boy's laughter still echoes in the courtyard, and that is enough.