On the morning of the tenth day of the first lunar month, a native of Jiangnan who had been away from home for decades returned to the Zhang family. When the family met, they embraced in a tangled heap, weeping bitterly.
The man who had returned from Jiangnan was named Zhang Sheng, Zhang Qiang's eldest paternal cousin. Although the entire Zhangjiazhuang consisted of descendants of the Zhang family, within Zhang Sheng's immediate blood-related family, only these two brothers now remained. As for the rest, during those turbulent years of war and chaos, some had gone missing, some had fled as refugees, and others had died of illness.
Having been away from home for more than twenty years, the past was too painful to look back on, and a thousand words could not tell the whole story. Zhang Qiang and Zhang Sheng clung tightly to each other, burying their heads and weeping uncontrollably. Spurred by the continuous comfort and persuasion of the neighboring villagers, the two finally parted and sat down by a table to talk, their faces streaked with snot and tears.
Uncle Fang watched from the side, two lines of hot tears rolling down his cheeks without him realizing it. This scene was caught by Fang Yi, who was standing not far away.
Fang Yi felt quite puzzled inside. Aside from the time Uncle Qiao passed away when his father had wept bitterly, his father did not easily shed tears, not even when witnessing scenes of parting in life and death under normal circumstances. These two lines of tears seemed rather peculiar. Thus, he began to secretly observe his father's actions.
Zhang Qiang and his wife bustled about, preparing a lavish table of food and wine to welcome Zhang Sheng home. When Zhang Sheng learned that Zhang Qiang had specially invited the Fang Family Opera Troupe to celebrate his homecoming, he was once again overcome with a mixture of sorrow and joy. The trials and tribulations of the past twenty years now dissolved into a mist of hard-to-hide tears and words left unsaid.
Everything was ready. Zhang Qiang walked over to Uncle Fang and signaled for the Fang Family Opera Troupe to begin their performance on stage.
The open space in front of Zhang Qiang's house was already packed solid with villagers who had hauled chairs and benches from their homes, dragging their families along to sit in front of the stage and watch the grand opera in high spirits.
To the people in the mountains, mountain roads were never easy to travel, and outsiders rarely ventured deep into the mountains—let alone fresh sights like a grand opera. One had to have accumulated a great deal of good fortune to catch such an occasion.
Uncle Fang led his apprentices in singing with all their might and performing to the fullest on the opera stage, drawing wave after wave of cheers and applause from the audience below.
When Fang Yi performed Sun Wukong's *Borrowing Treasures from the Dragon King*, the cheers from the crowd below rolled like waves, one higher than the next, echoing through the mountain valley. The children imitated what was happening on stage, crouching and kicking their legs down below, wild with joy.
Zhang Qiang accompanied Zhang Sheng at the table, eating and drinking while watching the performance on stage. Whenever they reached an exciting part, the two would occasionally put down their bowls and chopsticks to cheer in unison.
"They have grand operas down in Jiangnan too, but they are rather formal, and you have to watch them properly and rigidly. Our kind here is much more interesting, lively, and suits my taste. Where did you hire this opera troupe from? They even have such young children!" Zhang Sheng said as he ate, his accent having changed and no longer sounding like his authentic hometown speech.
Zhang Qiang smiled and introduced them: "This is the Fang Family Opera Troupe, invited from Baijia Village, over thirty li outside the mountains. In my free time, I often go up the mountain to the Dragon King Temple to burn incense and pray, and from time to time I'd hear people say that there is a very popular opera troupe in Baijia Village, and people from ten villages around are willing to hire them to perform. Coincidentally, with you returning home to visit relatives this time, I made a trip down the mountain a few days ago and invited them over. That young martial artist is Fang Yi, the eldest son of Troupe Leader Master Fang."
Zhang Sheng nodded, feeling all the more grateful to Zhang Qiang. Although the two of them were only paternal cousins who hadn't seen each other for more than twenty years and rarely exchanged letters, their bond had long since surpassed that of real brothers.
"A tiger father has no dog for a son. This kid will probably be much more formidable than his father in the future. Judging by his age, he's probably about the same as my Zhang Yao. Yet our Zhang Yao is the complete opposite of him, only knowing how to read books and practice calligraphy in his room all day, completely ignoring the world outside, just like some young maiden." At this point, Zhang Sheng's face clearly showed a trace of displeasure.
"Elder Brother, you have it wrong there. Reading books and practicing calligraphy is a good thing! Earning an official post in the future is definitely much better than being a stage actor!" Zhang Qiang put down his cup of wine and said with a serious expression, "Don't look at how flashily Fang Yi performs on stage right now, winning round after round of applause. In the long run, what use is it? No matter how skilled he becomes in the future, he will still end up just like his father—a vagabond actor wandering the jianghu."
Joy lit up Zhang Sheng's face. Happily, he raised his wine glass to toast Zhang Qiang and drained it in one gulp.
After three rounds of wine and five courses of food, the two brothers were thoroughly stuffed and drunk to the point where they couldn't tell east from west. Zhang Qiang's wife, Sister-in-law Zhou, hurriedly called three children over from the crowd to help escort the two drunkards into a room to rest.
On stage, gongs and drums thundered and one exciting act followed another. The audience's enthusiasm remained unabated, and rather than bothering to eat a proper lunch, they simply crammed food into their mouths haphazardly while stubbornly lingering in place to watch the opera. The Fang Family Opera Troupe also gave it their all, riding this wave of enthusiasm and spirit to pull out all their signature tricks, performing all the way until the sun set behind the West Mountain before curtaining the show and stepping down.
The neighbors dispersed, the stage was cleared, and the Fang Family Opera Troupe finally gathered around the table to prepare for dinner. Although they hadn't managed to catch a single bite of lunch and their stomachs had been rumbling for a long time, warmth filled everyone's hearts, and they were all extremely satisfied with today's turnout.
Although Uncle Fang did not praise Fang Yi out loud, he was happy in his heart. Fang Yi's performance on stage had far exceeded his expectations.
Even though Fang Yi knew his performance on stage had won applause from the entire house, he found it hard to feel happy. He had too many worries on his mind, yet no one to confide in. Only when he exerted all his strength swinging spears and cudgels did he feel what true relief was. So he thought: if he could follow the opera troupe out to wander the jianghu and make a living from now on, that would be wonderful—it would still be much better than being cooped up in Baijia Village. With that thought, he stopped resenting himself for being someone "earning a hardscrabble living."
When the two Zhang brothers reappeared at the dinner table, the alcohol had worn off for both of them, and they warmly urged everyone to eat the food and drink. Of course, had Sister-in-law Zhou not specially brewed hangover soup for the two of them, they would never have recovered to their current state of sobriety.
After a hearty meal, everyone scattered.
Fang Yi, however, had no time to rest. The three Zhang children swarmed around him, demanding that he perform Sun Wukong's *Borrowing Treasures from the Dragon King* for them again. Pestered beyond endurance, Fang Yi had no choice but to casually whirl his staff through a few routines. Yet inside, he was extremely anxious, wanting to know what his father and the Zhang brothers were discussing behind closed doors, looking so secretive.
Feigning a stomachache, Fang Yi seized the opportunity to slip away from the three Zhang children and tiptoed over to the window of Zhang Qiang's room to eavesdrop on the activity inside.
A dim yellow glow filtered through the wooden lattice window. Zhang Qiang, Zhang Sheng, and Uncle Fang were talking inside. Although their voices were low, Fang Yi, standing outside the window, could still hear clearly what they were saying.
He heard Zhang Sheng let out a sigh first, then continue: "Over in Jiangnan, there are green mountains and clear waters everywhere, and the place is indeed huge. But if you really want to find two people from your hometown, you can't say there's zero hope. Take me, for instance. After I drifted down to Jiangnan, one year I heard that everyone from my hometown was long gone, so I wrote a letter with a try-your-luck attitude and entrusted it to someone traveling around doing business to take out of Jiangnan, hoping some acquaintance would receive it. But several years passed without a single bit of news. Just as I was feeling discouraged and disheartened, a reply letter from Zhang Qiang suddenly arrived in my hands, and that's how we got back in touch. Later on, I focused entirely on planning a trip back home to visit relatives."
After a long silence inside the room, Uncle Fang took a deep puff of his cigarette and said with a frown, "The problem is difficult precisely because of this. So many years have passed, yet she has never written a single family letter. Who knows whether she's dead or alive now?"
"Master Fang, don't be too discouraged either. Didn't Huizi not have much schooling? Even if she really wanted to write a family letter back, I'm afraid it would be difficult for her. Who knows, maybe she did entrust someone to write a letter back in the past, only it never ended up in your hands." Seeing Uncle Fang's anxiety, Zhang Qiang offered words of comfort.
"Huizi?" Fang Yi, standing outside the window, softly blurted out. He now had a rough idea of what they were discussing. So his father had an older sister! That would mean an aunt. But why had he never heard about the Fang family having an aunt?