Hexi Village
Shen Zhiqiu pointed to a small courtyard not far away. “We’re here. This is the place.”
“Grand—”
Just as she was about to call out for Dong Hesong, Xu Kui stopped her. “Comrade Shen, wait a moment. Let me… prepare myself.”
“Should I go in first, then?”
“Alright.”
“Zhiqiu, is that you?”
Dong Hesong had already heard her approach. Leaning on his cane, he came out to greet her.
“Grandpa.”
After parking her bicycle, Shen Zhiqiu hurried over to support him. “How have you been these past few days?”
“I’m doing just fine. No need to worry about me.”
Dong Hesong smiled. “Xiao Zhang and his wife come by every day to cook and clean for me.”
He knew it was Shen Zhiqiu who had left money with the village chief’s family to ensure he was taken care of.
After a moment’s hesitation, Shen Zhiqiu decided to be direct. “Grandpa, I found Xu Kui… and I brought him here.”
As soon as the words left her mouth, Xu Kui stepped out from behind a tree, pushing his bicycle.
The moment Dong Hesong saw him, his gaze turned icy. His grip on the cane tightened unconsciously.
Xu Kui kept his head bowed. He lifted a wooden chest from the back of his bicycle and placed it in front of Dong Hesong.
“Brother Dong.”
With a thud, he dropped to his knees. He glanced up briefly at Dong Hesong before lowering his head again. “I know nothing I say matters, but I still wanted to come and apologize.”
“Back then, I was blinded by greed. I ruined your family, drove you into exile.”
He patted the wooden chest beside him. “These are the medical books I took from your home. All these years, I’ve kept them safe. Today, I’m returning them to their rightful owner.”
“Brother Dong, I’ve paid for what I did—lost my job, my family fell apart.”
“I keep dreaming of Old Man Dong and your little girl… coming to haunt me. I can’t eat, I can’t sleep.”
“I wronged you all—”
Xu Kui collapsed forward, sobbing uncontrollably. “I don’t expect your forgiveness. What I did is unforgivable. This is the punishment I deserve.”
“But I had no choice back then. If I hadn’t denounced you, I would’ve been labeled a counter-revolutionary.”
“After joining the Red Guards, I followed Kang Zhishou. He kept saying traditional medicine was feudalistic poison, that we had to destroy it.”
“Your Dong family ran a pharmacy—capitalist exploitation. We were told to make an example of you first.”
“I… I just wanted to vent my anger. I never meant to drive your parents to their deaths. But things spiraled out of control.”
Even now, remembering those days filled him with horror.
Every morning began with denouncements. You had to shout loud, act fervent. Any slip, any hesitation, and you’d be the next one on the platform.
He didn’t dare speak freely, didn’t dare laugh. His nerves were always on edge. Every night, he dreamed of the struggle sessions.
“Go.” Dong Hesong waved a hand dismissively.
Xu Kui slowly got to his feet. As he pushed his bicycle away, his silhouette resembled a walking corpse—yet somehow lighter than when he’d arrived.
Shen Zhiqiu helped Dong Hesong back inside. The old man sat down, his eyes fixed on the calligraphy scroll hanging on the wall: “Skillful Hands, Benevolent Heart.”
He sighed heavily.
“Brothers born of the same root, why such haste to torment each other?
An eye for an eye, when will it end?
Let bygones be bygones. Enough.”
Sensing Dong Hesong had no desire to dwell on the past, Shen Zhiqiu changed the subject. “Grandpa, where should I put these books? I’ll help you organize them.”
Dong Hesong gestured with his cane toward a bookshelf. “Just put them there. Traditional medicine is fading. That these books survived at all is a blessing. I only hope they’ll find the right hands someday.”
“Grandpa, traditional medicine is a treasure of our country. Someone will carry it forward,” Shen Zhiqiu reassured him.
“I know times change, but there will always be those who remember their roots.”
Dong Hesong looked down at his own hands, sighing mournfully. “But I fear I won’t live to see that day. Xiaomei has no talent for it. All my knowledge… it’ll die with me.”
Shen Zhiqiu gripped his arm, shaking her head firmly. “No, Grandpa! You’re in good health. You’ll live a long life.”
The old man chuckled. “Haha, don’t worry. For you and Xiaomei, I’ll stick around a few more decades.”
“Oh, and Ya-ya too.”
He turned to Shen Zhiqiu. “Speaking of Ya-ya, have you visited Taoist Master Qingfeng yet?”
“I went the day before yesterday. He told me not to worry.”
Dong Hesong patted her shoulder. “If that’s what he said, then you needn’t fret.”
“Grandpa, once things settle down, I’ll bring Ya-ya to see you. For now, I brought photos. Here, look.” Shen Zhiqiu took out a picture of Ya-ya from her bag and handed it to him.
Dong Hesong held it at arm’s length, examining it closely. “Mm, wonderful. Look at those big eyes, those full earlobes. This child is bright and blessed.”
“Good, truly good. I’ve lived to see four generations now.”
“With this heat, I prepared some sour plum drink and a few herbal bath recipes. Take them back for Ya-ya—keep the heat rashes away.”
“Thank you, Grandpa.”
After leaving Dong Hesong’s home and returning to Guojing, Shen Zhiqiu went straight to People’s Hospital.
Meng Fang was in surgery, so she waited in her office.
“Zhiqiu?” Meng Fang pushed the door open, surprised to see her.
Shen Zhiqiu quickly stepped forward to support her. “Sister-in-law, you look pale. Are you feeling unwell?”
“It’s nothing. Just the heat and exhaustion, plus my morning sickness has been rough.” She gagged a couple of times as she spoke.
“Sister-in-law, I just came back from Elder Dong’s. He gave me some sour plum drink.”
Shen Zhiqiu placed the medicine packets on Meng Fang’s desk. “I asked him—it’s safe for pregnant women. I thought you might be craving something sour lately, so I brought it for you.”
“Zhiqiu, you read my mind! I’ve been dying for sour plum drink—like, aching for it.”
Meng Fang grabbed her hand excitedly, swallowing hard as she spoke. “Your second brother called earlier—he’s on night shift. I was planning to sneak out for some fish-fragrant pork shreds. Now that you’re here, let’s go together?”
“Sure.”
“Wait here while I change.”
As they walked their bicycles out of the hospital, Meng Fang asked, “Zhiqiu, do you know any places that make fish-fragrant pork shreds sweet and sour? The state-run canteen’s version is too spicy.”
Shen Zhiqiu remembered the small restaurant Qin Liping had taken her to near the university. They served the dish exactly how Meng Fang described.
“I do know one place, but it’s a bit far—near Brother-in-law’s university. Should we go?”
“Absolutely! After eating, we can check out the night market nearby. See how your eldest brother’s business is doing.”
