Chapter 22

Chen Jue stared hard at the man before him. He never would have imagined that Huo Lin would actually look like... this.

Huo Lin looked startlingly like Huo Jilin, especially those eyes.

He had probably trekked hundreds of miles, now dusty from the road, his hair tied haphazardly with a strip of cloth, loose strands plastered to his sweaty forehead, his face worn and weathered. Even the villagers almost didn't recognize him, but it was this face that froze Chen Jue on the spot.

He already hated the name Huo Lin, and now this guy didn't just have the same name—he had the exact same face.

Even covered in dust and grime, Chen Jue could instantly tell from those sharp, striking features that it was Huo Jilin's face.

After all, this was the man who got him killed and sent him to this world. Though he hadn't pushed him himself, he died because of Huo Jilin's wife and kid.

Even if Huo Jilin were ground to ash, Chen Jue would still remember him.

Liu Cuier finally realized it really was Huo Lin. She gave Chen Jue a shove, since he was inexplicably frozen in place: "Jue Geer, what are you zoned out for? Your man's back!"

Husband?

Chen Jue slowly turned his head to look at her, finally snapping back to reality. He'd forgotten about that—his body belonged to this Huo Lin's husband.

Chen Jue furrowed his brow. Something felt off. When there are too many coincidences, it stops feeling real.

He stood motionless, his brow furrowed. That was definitely not the face of someone whose husband just came back from the dead.

Liu Cuier figured he was too shocked with joy to react—lots of people freeze up when they're hit with huge joy or grief. Besides, Chen Jue had really been through it these past few months.

She gently nudged Chen Jue's arm: "Don't just stand there. I know you can't wrap your head around this, but Huo Lin being back is a good thing. He's alive, and that's what counts."

Huo Lin walked toward Chen Jue step by step, while the villagers threw shocked, confused, and mixed greetings at him.

His face didn't show much. He just nodded at the villagers' greetings and said a few words: "Yes, that's right. I'm going home first. We'll talk later..."

His answers were too short to reveal anything off. Chen Jue stood rooted to the ground like his feet were nailed down, without even stepping back.

He stared straight at Huo Lin, trying to read something in that blank face, but found nothing.

If Huo Lin had shown even a hint of surprise at seeing him, Chen Jue would have had reason to be suspicious. But this guy, aside from a brief pause when he first saw his belly, kept walking toward him.

That little pause didn't mean anything. Anyone would hesitate seeing their wife with a pregnant belly, especially after being gone for months—who knows whose kid that is?

Chen Jue watched him coldly, not stopping the man as he got closer and closer.

The villagers trailing at a distance couldn't get anything out of his short replies, so they stopped coming closer. This Huo Lin clearly wasn't easy to get close to—he seemed even harder to deal with than before.

Maybe it was because he'd come back from the battlefield, carrying this fierce, bloody aura.

Before, he'd been a hunter, with who knows how many lives on his hands. Now he'd come back alive from a battlefield where who knows how many died—so how many lives were on his hands now?

The crowd didn't dare get close, but they didn't leave either.

Watching a show was their favorite hobby. Even with all the farm work, it didn't hurt to watch a little first.

Under everyone's watchful eyes, Huo Lin stopped in front of Chen Jue, his gaze slowly dropping from Chen Jue's eyes to his belly.

For a split second, Chen Jue felt like he'd seen that look before, and it made him deeply uneasy.

It was the look of someone looking down at an ant.

A look of someone with all the power, brushing off any pushback.

A look that had made him feel suffocated and disgusted in the past.

But when Chen Jue looked at him again, the feeling was gone. The man was just quietly looking at him, like he hadn't seen him in months and wanted to take a good look.

Chen Jue pushed down the resistance that flared up and met his gaze.

"Let's go home."

Huo Lin was the one who broke the standoff.

Liu Cuier, standing next to Chen Jue, unconsciously let out a breath when Huo Lin spoke. This Huo Lin really had a weird temper—why was he staring at his own wife's belly for so long? He wasn't doubting the baby, was he?

No way. She could vouch for Chen Jue. She hadn't seen it herself, but she just had a feeling Chen Jue would never do something like that.

Chen Jue noticed Huo Lin staring at his belly, but he ignored it and didn't plan to explain.

He'd originally thought Huo Lin was dead and he'd raise this kid on his own, but it turned out this guy was stubborn as hell.

But even if he was back, he wasn't getting this kid in his belly.

Chen Jue turned and walked off first. As he led the way, the crowd instinctively parted—Chen Jue's authority had left a mark on a lot of people.

A lot of people muttered to themselves: this Huo Lin really has a tough life—even the King of Hell won't take him. Better to keep their distance from that family from now on.

The crowd didn't dare follow, so the two walked smoothly toward the house at the foot of the mountain.

Chen Jue didn't say a word. Xiaohua followed close behind, occasionally glancing back at the man trailing them, thinking he was weird—why was he following them?

"Let me take the basket."

Chen Jue heard the man behind him speak. His voice was flat, just a plain statement with no emotion in it.

"No need, it's not heavy," Chen Jue replied. Huo Lin didn't say another word the rest of the way.

The Huo family lived at the far west end. It was a good distance from the east entrance of the village to the west, but luckily, at this hour, the villagers were all gathered at the threshing ground near the east entrance.

No one else came out to watch the show.

The two walked in silence, one ahead of the other.

Even though the man didn't speak, Chen Jue could feel his eyes on him from behind.

He was quietly checking him out.

This Huo Lin really was as quiet as Zhou Qingzhu had complained. He must have had a ton of questions, but this guy had serious patience—he hadn't asked a single one.

Since he wasn't asking, Chen Jue wasn't about to volunteer anything.

Even after walking for a while, his mood hadn't improved much. You can't just get over rejecting someone in a short time.

Even knowing Huo Lin was innocent, that he shouldn't be blamed for his name or his face.

But if people could control their emotions that easily, there wouldn't be so much joy and grief, so many extremists.

Chen Jue walked home in silence. The path was uphill, and they got slower the higher they went. Chen Jue was getting tired—he was seven months along, and he'd been up on the mountain all day. The basket of herbs on his back was starting to weigh him down.

He reached back to support his waist. Just as he was about to shift the basket, the weight on his back suddenly lightened—someone had lifted it off him.

"I'll carry him. You hold this for me," said the man named Huo Lin.

Chen Jue looked at the thing wrapped in ragged cloth that Huo Lin handed him. It had some weight to it. He'd figured it was a piece of wood, but now it felt more like a knife.

Chen Jue took it from him and led him into the house.

Once he got inside, Huo Lin stood at the courtyard gate looking around, probably feeling homesick.

Chen Jue went inside. Over the past six months or so, he hadn't done much to the courtyard, but he'd changed things up inside.

After setting Huo Lin's knife on the eight-immortal table in the main room, Chen Jue looked at the room he'd transformed and wondered how the hell he was gonna explain it.

The innermost room with the kang—he'd whitewashed the walls with lime and hung white linen curtains. Over these months, he'd unconsciously built himself an operating room.

It really wasn't on purpose; it just kinda ended up that way.

Every time Uncle Liu came to see this room, he'd shake his head. Chen Jue knew what he wasn't saying—that it looked like it was hung with funeral banners. He'd hung white linen because there was no green cloth to be had.

Chen Jue sat down at the eight-immortal table and drank some water straight from the teapot. He'd been on the mountain all day and was somewhat thirsty.

Little Flower followed Chen Jue inside and settled into her spot. She was tired too, having been running around with Chen Jue all day.

Huo Lin apparently hadn't expected a sheep to get in the house before him. His face visibly froze for a second. Seeing his eyes lock onto Little Flower, Chen Jue felt like he had to explain: "Little Flower just rests here for a while."

She does her business outside.

He couldn't do anything about this sheep. Ever since he'd operated on her, she'd latched onto him.

She'd tumbled off the hillside after getting caught on a tree branch, which sent her into early labor. Her cervix wouldn't open. Even though Uncle Zhou was good with livestock, there was nothing he could do—he couldn't get the labor going no matter what.

One leg came out first. Chen Jue and Uncle Zhou tried repositioning the lamb for a long time but couldn't get it out.

Zhang Yan was beside them, crying in a panic: "Father-in-law, please think of something! She can't die..."

This little ewe meant a lot to Zhang Yan. His husband had bought her for him after he got pregnant. Over these months, Zhang Yan had raised her like a kid. Chen Jue couldn't even shear her wool without Zhang Yan getting all reluctant.

So Zhang Yan was in a really bad state back then.

He'd always been scared of childbirth, and now seeing Little Flower struggling to give birth, he was on the verge of falling apart.

When his husband Zhou Dajiang tried to comfort him, saying "It's okay," Zhang Yan snapped at him.

He looked frantic and anxious, pacing around the courtyard with his hands on his belly.

"What if she can't give birth? Is she going to die?"

He was projecting his own fears onto the ewe.

Men giving birth was already hard enough, and this was his first pregnancy. He got more and more worried. He'd been carefully tending to this little ewe every day, counting down to her due date—he'd come to see her as a reflection of himself.

The little ewe cried out pitifully. Uncle Zhou sighed: "This is a difficult birth. There's nothing to be done."

Chen Jue unconsciously clenched his fist. No matter when, the words "difficult birth" always weighed heavy on his heart.

So Chen Jue touched the scalpel in his pocket and told Zhang Yan to leave it to him.

Chen Jue lowered his head and stroked the horn on Little Flower's head. That day, Uncle Zhou had brought Little Flower to their house.

Back then, he had the scalpel and the anesthetic herbs. The only thing he didn't have was an operating light, so Chen Jue did the surgery with the main room door open.

It was in this very main room that he'd operated on Little Flower.

The surgery was a success. Chen Jue had done no fewer than a hundred of the most delicate heart surgeries, and hundreds of open-chest and open-abdominal procedures. So this C-section on the ewe went off without a hitch.

After the surgery that day, it was around the same time as now—the sunset spreading across the sky.

Ever since Little Flower woke up, she'd claimed this place as her own. She slept in this main room for the three days she was recovering.

By the time her wound healed, there was no getting rid of her.

Chen Jue stared at the ewe, not sure why his mind had wandered so far. He was spacing out, feeling a bit dazed. He sat leaning against the ewe, while Huo Jilin stood at the door like an outsider, watching the two of them. Chen Jue and the ewe had become the locals of this house.

The two humans and one ewe stared each other down for a while, until Little Flower impatiently scraped her hoof and sauntered out the door.

Huo Lin even stepped aside to let the strutting ewe pass.

Chen Jue didn't know what to say. Huo Lin, though, took a step toward the inner room but stopped at the doorway.

Chen Jue knew he was stunned by what he'd done to the inner room.

Sure enough, after scanning the inner room once, Huo Lin's gaze landed on him.

Silent, doing all the talking with his eyes—that kind of scrutinizing look.

Chen Jue drank another bowl of tea and let him look. He'd calmed down by now and didn't care about Huo Lin's probing gaze anymore. He wasn't the original owner of this body; this man named Huo Lin would figure it out sooner or later.

This man was clearly sharp. From the moment they'd walked from the village entrance until now, he'd only said those two sentences to him. The rest of the time, he'd been watching him. He didn't even ask about his belly—that alone was already a sign he was suspicious.

Chen Jue didn't know what to say either. After a moment of silence, he just gave up on talking.

A fake was a fake. It couldn't be hidden for long. And he didn't want to pretend anyway.

Take it one day at a time. It wouldn't be long before he got out of this village.

As Chen Jue was thinking, Zhou Qingzhu's voice came from out in the courtyard.

"Brother Chen! Brother Chen! Is Brother Huolin really back?!"

He was probably still halfway there, but his voice had already carried over. Zhou Qingshan and Uncle Liu were probably right behind him.

Chen Jue breathed a sigh of relief. Finally, someone was coming.

Two people who suspected each other just sitting there in silence without calling it out—it was weird.

With Uncle Liu's family arriving, Chen Jue's place got lively. Zhang Yan also came over, leaning on his husband. He was nine months along now, with just over half a month to go, and he still came out to see the commotion.

He was even more excited than Chen Jue: "Is Brother Huolin really back?! That's great! Jue Geer, this is great!"

Uncle Liu was even more worked up, immediately pressing his palms together in prayer: "Heaven has eyes! I knew Dalin would be fine."

Zhou Qingshan, leaning on his cane, rushed straight at Huo Lin. His enthusiasm was so overwhelming it startled Huo Lin. Chen Jue saw his body instinctively tense up, his eyes narrowing for a split second. He recovered quickly, but Chen Jue caught it.

Because Chen Jue was also watching him, checking for signs of PTSD.

PTSD shows up differently in everyone.

Zhou Qingshan's voice trembled with overwhelming emotion as he grabbed Huo Lin's arm and choked out: "Dalin, Dalin, it's really you! You're really back, really back! You didn't die—thank god!"

He was incoherent, his hands flailing up and down as if he wanted to touch every part of Huo Lin.

Huo Lin grabbed him and said, "I'm fine."

Compared to Zhou Qingshan's excitement, his reaction was too calm.

Uncle Liu also stepped forward, tearing up with joy as he crowded around him, while Uncle Zhou and Aunt Zhou smiled and made small talk with him.

Chen Jue watched Huo Lin, surrounded by the crowd, and noticed he wasn't all that excited either—just smiling faintly, like he was working a room, with a faint, almost imperceptible distance in his eyes.

This guy's not easy to deal with.

Chen Jue thought to himself.

With Huo Lin back, dinner was taken care of.

"I'll run home and grab a chicken!" Uncle Liu said and left immediately.

"I'll go pull some veggies—dumplings tonight!" Zhou Qingzhu pulled up a bunch of greens from the garden.

Zhang Yan also brought over some cured meat from home, and the little girl clapped her hands in delight around the curious goat: "It's like New Year's today!"

"Today's New Year's—no, even better than New Year's!" Zhou Qingshan, shaking off his usual quiet, was louder than ever.

He seemed to have so much to say to Huo Lin, but every time he faced him, his voice choked up again: "Dalin, where did you go afterward? I saw you get cut down, and they told me they searched everywhere and couldn't find you... you... are your wounds all healed now?"

Huo Lin paused slightly and said to him, "I'm all healed up now, thanks for worrying about me."

He didn't bring up what happened after he was hurt—maybe he just didn't want to.

Zhou Qingshan was too overjoyed to notice, just repeating, "Good, good..."

"Brother, don't get so worked up. Let Brother Huo Lin freshen up first—he's all dusty from the road,"

Zhou Qingzhu set a basket of vegetables in front of Zhou Qingshan for him to pick, then said to Huo Lin, "Brother Huo Lin, go wash your face and change clothes. Jue Geer, go take him."

Zhou Qingzhu winked at Chen Jue, because his eldest brother, too excited, kept pulling at Huo Lin and wouldn't let him talk to Jue Geer.

It had been a while now, and Jue Geer hadn't gotten a word in edgewise—how was that okay?

Uncle Zhou knocked his pipe out and said, "Right, go wash your face and change first. Tonight, heat up plenty of water and wash from head to toe! Wash off the bad luck!"

Huo Lin grunted in acknowledgment and stood up.

Chen Jue led Huo Lin to find clothes, having indeed forgotten about this.

First, Xiao Hua had barged in, and then his improvised spirit-banner of a bedroom had kept that Huo Lin standing since he walked in, as if there wasn't a single place for him to sit.

Chen Jue had tucked Huo Lin's clothes away at the very back. He climbed up on the kang, pulled out a bundle, and spread it in front of Huo Lin, saying, "Find something to wear. Your best one—I put it in your grave marker."

Huo Lin raised an eyebrow: "Grave marker?"

Chen Jue nodded: "A few months back, they said you were dead. You can dig it up tomorrow."

Since the man was still alive, it was better to flatten the grave—otherwise, it was bad luck.

Huo Lin didn't say whether he'd flatten it or not, but instead looked at him and asked, off-topic, "You don't seem all that broken up about it?"

Chen Jue's hands paused mid-fold. He'd known this Huo Lin had sharp eyes—perceptive, able to see through a lot at a glance.

Chen Jue glanced at him: "Well, you're back now, aren't you?"

Huo Lin added, "I don't see you exactly thrilled either."

His voice was flat, emotionless, but had a hint of picking a fight.

Chen Jue gave him a long, serious look. Since he'd walked in, this man hadn't smiled at him once, though his eyes kept drifting over with a flicker of shock. He hid it well, but Chen Jue could still sense it.

Besides, he hadn't even asked about his belly—not a shred of concern for the kid.

It seemed he really did have his suspicions about the pregnancy.

Chen Jue had imagined this man's return, thought about fighting for custody of the kid, about talking it out peacefully, about a nasty showdown—but he'd never considered this angle.

Chen Jue felt like laughing and actually cracked a smile: "Too happy to remember."

With that, he turned and left.

Since neither trusted the other, there was nothing left to say.

Zhou Qingzhu saw him come out so fast and stomped his foot in frustration: "Brother Chen, don't you need to go help?"

Chen Jue glanced at him: "No need."

Forget the fact that Huo Lin already suspected his belly—he wasn't Huo Lin's original husband anyway, so why would he help?

Zhou Qingzhu looked speechless, Zhang Yan covered her mouth to stifle a laugh, and Chen Jue didn't bother explaining, just asked, "Dumplings tonight? Need a hand?"

He didn't know how to wrap dumplings, so watching Zhou Qingzhu chop the filling made him anxious—it felt like dinner would take forever.

Uncle Liu was already chopping chicken in the kitchen and chuckled, saying, "Tonight we've got chicken and dumplings—good food's worth the wait. Jue Geer, you hungry? Once the chicken leg's stewed, you can have one first."

Chen Jue nodded, that was more like it. His stomach was used to eating on a schedule now.

"I'll help with the fire," Chen Jue said, sitting down by the stove. That was what he was best at these days.

Uncle Liu smiled at him: "Jue Geer, this is really great. With Huo Lin here, no one'll dare bully you anymore."

Chen Jue shrugged: "Even without him, no one could bully me, right?"

Uncle Liu chuckled—true enough. Ever since Chen Jue carved that line on the grave marker, Village Head Zhou had never again brought up sending Chen Jue back to his family.

Still, Uncle Liu was happy: "Raising a kid together is always a bit easier."

Chen Jue thought of Huo Lin's earlier questioning and smiled faintly. Fighting for custody later might be a lot simpler.

There was no DNA testing in ancient times—since he suspected, he might as well just admit it.

Dinner came together quickly with everyone's help. When the chicken aroma wafted out, the dumplings were also going into the pot. Thanks to the Huo family's multi-functional stove, several dishes cooked at once.

That Huo Lin had also changed and come out—he'd only swapped his outer clothes, washed his face, and re-tied his hair bun, nothing elaborate, but he looked different.

Everyone marveled at his refreshed appearance: "Huo Lin's a bit thinner, but now he's home, he can eat well and recover."

"Oh, my Huo Lin brother is still handsome—the most handsome in the village. Right, Jue Ge?"

Chen Jue glanced at the washed-up Huo Lin—indeed, he looked better than the travel-worn version. His features didn't match a typical hardworking villager; there was a certain nobility about him, a quality that even coarse cloth couldn't hide.

But Chen Jue thought that someone with that face, in a suit, would be even more imposing than now—the kind of presence that made it hard to breathe.

Even after all this time, thinking back on it still makes his chest ache.

Chen Jue turned his gaze away. He didn't want to look at that face at all—sorry, he thought.

He wasn't the original owner, and he couldn't muster a single shred of affection for this husband. Though it was lucky the original owner was gone; otherwise, being doubted by her own husband would've been a letdown, wouldn't it?

The sun had fully set, and the sky was getting dark.

Uncle Liu came out carrying a tray piled high with dumplings, glancing at the sky as he said, "Once August rolls around, the sun sets faster. Everyone, eat up before it gets completely dark. Yan Geer, Brother Zhou, Sister-in-law Zhou, come sit down and eat—today's a happy day!"

In the months since Chen Jue had arrived, since he often ate with Uncle Liu and the others, Uncle Liu no longer treated him like a guest. Instead, he took it upon himself to play host to Zhang Yan's family.

Since Zhang Yan and Chen Jue were close, Uncle Zhou and Aunt Zhou started coming by more often too.

Uncle Liu said to Huo Lin, "Dalin, while you've been away, Aunt Zhou and her family have been coming by to help quite a bit."

Aunt Zhou laughed, "Not at all—it's Jue Geer who's helped our Yan Geer a lot. He even saved this little flower here."

Aunt Zhou shooed Xiaohua, the little goat, away from the table. Xiaohua turned around and tried to nudge her again, but Zhou Dajiang grabbed it by both horns and shoved it aside.

Zhou Dajiang said to Huo Lin, "This little goat just needs a good whipping. Dalin, you don't know, back then it went into early labor just to pick a fight with a tree. If it weren't for Jue Geer, it would've ended up in the pot."

"Exactly, thanks to Jue Geer—he's Hua Tuo reborn. The way he made the cut and stitched it up was something else."

Uncle Zhou praised Chen Jue from the heart. He'd raised livestock for years and had delivered countless pigs and lambs, but that day he'd been stumped. If Chen Jue hadn't done the C-section, this cheeky goat wouldn't be here.

Chen Jue could already feel Huo Lin's eyes on him. He swallowed a mouthful of dumpling soup—at this point, he was past caring. Whether it was "Hua Tuo reborn" or whatever other praise, whatever.

But strictly speaking, he hadn't really done anything all that special.

"Hua Tuo reborn" was too much, though he knew Uncle Zhou meant the abdominal surgery.

Hua Tuo had invented Mafei San specifically for doing abdominal surgery.

He'd pulled off countless medical miracles.

He used Mafei San for full-body anesthesia, about 1,600 years before the West.

Surgery in the East came 1,600 years before the West, though the art had declined over time. Even Chen Jue had to admit that Western surgery was better than what they had back home—it came down to culture. Dissection was routine abroad, but back home, studying human bodies was a huge taboo.

Actually, when you got right down to it, Hua Tuo was the founding father of surgery, Chen Jue thought idly.

Thanks to Hua Tuo setting the precedent, Uncle Zhou and the others didn't question Chen Jue's skill with a knife. As Zhang Yan put it: "Jue Geer, you're amazing! Your family's got some serious medical skills!"

Everything could be blamed on his family. Chen Jue thought about how he'd deliberately gone to see this world's parents—they hadn't said anything, and he didn't really know that person anyway.

That Huo Lin was looking at him. The sky was pitch black now, with two windproof lanterns lit outside. The light wasn't bright, so his look seemed complicated and hard to read.

Chen Jue just glanced at him once and didn't think anything of it.

He turned to look at Xiaohua.

Xiaohua sensed everyone was laughing at it, so it spun around looking for someone to fight, lifting its front hooves too high and nearly throwing its back out.

Everyone laughed, and the yard filled with cheerful sounds, warm and cozy.

Huo Lin raised his cup and gave a faint smile at Aunt Zhou and the others: "Thank you all for looking after my... husband these past days. Today, I'll toast you all with tea instead of wine."

He spoke very politely, almost a bit stiff. Everyone was momentarily at a loss for how to respond—the villagers were plain folk who'd rarely met anyone educated in their lives—so they mumbled, "Oh, it's nothing, nothing. Cheers, cheers..."

Huo Lin drank his tea with proper elegance. Sitting upright at the table, his posture straight, the coarse porcelain cup in his hand looked like fine official kiln ware. The tea seemed like top-grade maojian, though it was actually honeysuckle that Chen Jue had picked himself.

He drank slowly, then set the cup down gently.

Zhou Qingshan laughed: "Dalin, you're still as particular as ever, you haven't changed a bit. Haha! You all don't know, he eats and drinks slowly. Back when I used to hunt with him up in the mountains, waiting for him to finish his meal would drive me crazy. I'd tell him, 'By the time you finish one meal, I could go out for a stroll and catch a rabbit.'"

Chen Jue glanced at him. So this was how Huo Lin had always been?

Then he'd been overthinking it—a face that similar was too easy to confuse with someone else.

Chen Jue didn't drink tea; he drank dumpling soup. He was hungry, and when you're hungry, you don't drink tea.

"Let's eat up—we're all family here, no need for such formalities. Dalin, we're all so glad you're back! Let's eat together; no need to split tables!" Uncle Zhou, being the elder here, declared.

The village had few strict rules—there was no rule against Ge'er or women eating at the table. When guests came, Ge'er and women might eat at a separate table if they were busy in the kitchen, but most of the time everyone ate together.

With one chicken and two drumsticks, Uncle Liu decided to give the drumsticks to Yan Geer and Chen Jue. He smiled and said, "They're both expecting—they're our biggest contributors. Eat up, get your strength up, and have healthy births later."

"Give them to Jue Geer. He's seven months along and can still eat; I'm about to give birth and shouldn't gain more weight," Zhang Yan said. This was what Chen Jue had told him, and he took the advice.

As soon as he spoke, Chen Jue noticed Huo Lin looking at his belly. He'd looked at it more than once tonight already.

There was just as little joy in it, even though Zhang Yan had said his belly was seven months along.

Or perhaps precisely because it was seven months, he was even more suspicious.

If it weren't for how sharp his gaze was, Chen Jue wouldn't have bothered to care.

He pulled his clothes together, covering his belly.

And continued eating.

Tonight's dumplings were quite tasty—made with a type of gourd, gourd and egg filling. He didn't know if he was just too hungry or hadn't had crab in a long time, but he could swear he tasted a hint of crab roe in the filling.

"Alright, then I'll boil you some goat's milk in a bit," Uncle Liu said. Zhang Yan declined, so he offered the drumstick to Huo Lin instead. Huo Lin also waved it off, pointing to the child at the table: "Give it to her."

"Uncle Dalin, I already have little drumsticks," Nannan said, cheeks puffed out as she happily chewed on her two small drumsticks.

Uncle Liu didn't hesitate and directly placed the drumstick into Huo Lin's bowl: "Dalin, eat up—you've gotten thinner. Tomorrow I'll make you something good."

Huo Lin paused for a moment but said nothing.

Zhou Qingzhu teased, "Dad, tomorrow Jue Geer will be cooking for Brother Huolin."

Let Huo Lin taste Chen Jue's one-pot stew, haha.

Uncle Liu coughed: "Jue Geer's pregnant now, so you do more cooking these next few days."

"Come to our place tomorrow!" Uncle Zhou said.

"These days are busy with farm work, but once it's over, we'll gather again..."

As it turned out, whenever there was something to celebrate, everyone wanted to get together.

Eating, drinking, even just sitting around chatting was fine.

Chen Jue could eat a lot when the food was good. When he cooked his own big pot stew, he could barely manage a bowl, but tonight he ate a large plate of dumplings plus a drumstick. Across from him, Huo Lin's gaze grew even deeper.

Let him look all he wanted.

Chen Jue and Nannan squeezed two bowls of goat's milk together. Xiaohua ate well, and the milk was plentiful. Aunt Zhou had been keeping the goat's milk flowing, saving it for when Zhang Yan gives birth.

So they milked the goat every day to keep the supply up.

The boiler setup at Huo Lin's place was perfect for simmering goat's milk.

With almonds added, the boiled milk lost most of its goaty smell, and even Chen Jue and Nannan could have a little.

After the dumplings, chicken, and a small bowl of goat's milk to round things off, Chen Jue was stuffed.

He probably shouldn't eat this much at night, but it was rare for him to have a decent meal.

Zhou Qingzhu's earlier teasing wasn't exaggerated—he still couldn't cook to save his life. Everything he made was just a one-pot stew, and even he was tired of it.

If it weren't for Uncle Liu and the others occasionally sharing vegetable cakes and steamed buns, he'd have been in real trouble.

A modern person with no cooking skills thrust into an ancient mountain village would starve to death.

Chen Jue, full and content, lounged in his favorite chair, listening to Uncle Zhou and Zhou Qingshan grill Huo Lin.

They asked him about the war.

Now that Huo Lin was safe, they dared to ask.

Zhou Qingshan had improved a lot lately and hadn't had any relapses.

He asked the most often: "Dalin, did we win?"

Chen Jue pricked up his ears—he was just as curious about that.

Huo Lin said, "We won, for now."

"What do you mean 'for now'? Will they come back? Didn't we drive them out?"

Zhou Qingshan asked quickly.

Huo Lin glanced at him and said, "We drove them out of the Hexi Corridor, but they're nomads. If they want to return, they just need to regroup and come back."

He paused, then added, "Now it depends on how the negotiations between the court and their khanate go."

"Huh? Didn't we beat them back? Why do we need to negotiate?" Zhou Qingshan asked. He used to know nothing, but after a month at the army camp, he'd picked up some military jargon.

But he only understood half of it, remembering only what the centurion said: drive out those Northern Yuan Tartars and we win! Our homes are saved!

So he never imagined that after driving them off, there would be negotiations, and then more fighting.

Chen Jue understood, though. He wasn't a soldier, but he was a guy from the modern era who'd studied some history.

War was never just about which army was stronger—it was about the political maneuvering between two nations, or even several. Sometimes even a victory meant making concessions.

That was the reason for political marriages in ancient times. The Northern Yuan Tartars were too hard to wipe out completely.

Huo Lin only explained briefly: "This time we were lucky. A long-term campaign would be bad for us. We don't have many men left."

At his last words, Zhou Qingshan finally remembered—remembered his comrades under that yellow-sand sky. He slapped his thigh in anguish: "I get it! We fought too bitterly, too many of us died!"

Seeing his pain, Uncle Zhou quickly comforted him: "It's all over now, don't dwell on the past. You're both back, that's the greatest blessing. As for future battles, let's not worry about it—they won't reach us here for a long time!"

That was true enough. Their village was practically hidden.

So Uncle Zhou's words reassured everyone, and they cheerfully moved on to other topics.

They talked about the harvest, the new babies in the village, and the changes in the village.

"Oh, by the way, our village is going to build a bridge over the river. The village head said that once the harvest season is over, he'll gather the young men to build a wooden bridge. If we get that bridge done, going to the county will be much easier—no more detouring through Sun Family Village! We'll get there in half an hour!"

"Oh, that's great news! For real?"

"Of course it's true. Village Head Zhou said so. Oh, right,"

Uncle Zhou turned to Huo Lin: "Huo Lin, you should go visit the village head tomorrow. Now that you're back, you need to report to him."

"Huo Lin is back!"

Speak of the devil—Village Head Zhou came in from outside. Since it was already dark and they only had a small lantern lit in the yard, they couldn't see who was coming.

So they hadn't seen Village Head Zhou coming up.

Not that they were to blame—Village Head Zhou had been standing at the foot of Chen Jue's house for quite a while before slowly walking up.

His feelings were so complicated that he didn't know how to approach Huo Lin.

He was the one who'd pushed for Huo Lin to be conscripted to the front lines. He never expected Huo Lin to come back alive.