Chapter 3: The Night of Vigil…

Fang Dahai stepped out the door. Although the others who had come to help hadn’t made any promises like Uncle Laogen, when they looked at the wrecked house and at Fang Father’s bloodstained body lying on a door plank, none of them could bring themselves to just leave. They stayed to help Uncle Laogen clean up the corpse and tidy up the house. As they worked, they sighed over how hard life would be for the Fang family from now on.

“How are these kids going to live from now on? I wonder if Old Fang passed down his carpentry skills to his two sons. If not… winter’s almost here—what are they going to do?”

“Just wrap the body in a mat and bury it in the ground—that’s easy. But these kids, if they want to keep living, it won’t be so simple. Look at this house—clean as if it’s been ransacked.”

“Sigh, who knows when these hard days will end.”

“Haizi’s only 14. For him to hold up this family? Not likely. I bet they won’t even make it through this winter…”

…………

Everyone was worried for Fang Dahai. But Fang Dahai himself didn’t feel the slightest bit worried at the moment. Because while he was picking up his younger siblings and hurrying home with quick steps, he suddenly thought of his spinning wheel and sneaked a glance at it.

Hey—he hadn’t really done much, but somehow, there were 3 points already? So this so-called “labor”… does it count no matter what you do? As long as you move around? If that’s the case, then there are tons of things that count as labor. Does running count? Cooking? Bathing?

This was supposed to be the moment of deepest grief and fear after losing his father—but Fang Dahai couldn’t help the corners of his mouth from twitching upward.

…………

From the moment his elder brother told him that their father was gone, Fang Dajiang had been overwhelmed with grief and fear. Every step toward home was heavy and uncertain. When he finally saw their house, he was completely stunned and stood there in hesitation, not daring to take another step.

Holding Xiangcao and pulling He Yulan along, Fang Dahai turned his head and looked at his younger brother. He sighed slightly and said calmly:

“Wipe your tears. Don’t let this final moment make Dad leave in unrest.”

Tears? Had he been crying?

Fang Dajiang subconsciously touched his face—it was soaked. At some point, he had already been crying uncontrollably.

“Big Brother…”

He didn’t know why he suddenly called out “big brother.” It was just instinct—treating this brother, who wasn’t even much taller than him, as his support. He wanted to hear him say something.

“Don’t worry. Big Brother is still here.”

That sentence—”Big Brother is still here”—was like a beacon of light. Fang Dajiang immediately broke down and charged into the house crying. Even He Yulan couldn’t help but start sobbing, and little Xiangcao, though still young, had grown up in times of war. Which child hadn’t learned early what death meant? She buried her head against Fang Dahai’s neck and began to cry as well.

“Big Brother… are we going to die? Without Dad, are we going to die?”

In these times, orphans were common, and children dying young even more so. Even a naive child like Xiangcao had heard and seen enough to be afraid. Her whole body was shaking.

“Don’t be scared. Don’t be scared. Big Brother will protect you. Be good, Xiangcao.”

Fang Dahai gently patted Xiangcao’s thin back. Thinking about her young age, he handed her to He Yulan.

“Take her outside the main hall and kowtow once, then wait in the kitchen. She’s too little. If she sees him like that…”

Children’s spirits are unstable. She had already been frightened today, and if she saw the miserable state their father was in, she might spike a fever at night. And he didn’t have any medicine on hand—better to avoid that.

He Yulan was sobbing so hard she could barely breathe, her heart already uneasy. She didn’t quite catch what he meant at first and asked blankly:

“Brother Dahai, I… I…”

She wanted to say she was the daughter-in-law and should keep vigil, but then she remembered—she hadn’t officially married into the family. It didn’t really count. Her mind went foggy.

Seeing the confusion on the girl’s young face, Fang Dahai glanced into the main hall, listening to Fang Dajiang crying inside. He said softly:

“Right now, the most important thing is to survive. Take care of yourself and Xiangcao first.”

He had made it clear. He Yulan quickly understood. She sniffled, nodded, and carried Xiangcao into the west-side kitchen.

Fang Dahai watched them enter the house, then turned and walked into the main hall himself.

As soon as he stepped inside, he stopped for a moment.

The house clearly showed signs of being cleaned up. Looking at their father’s body again—though the clothes were torn, they had been arranged properly. The blood had also been wiped away.

No need to ask—it was obviously Uncle Laogen and the others who helped.

As the eldest son of this family, now the man of the house from today onward, Fang Dahai immediately bowed to Uncle Laogen and the other elders still inside helping keep vigil.

“Thank you, uncles, for helping. You’ve let my father pass with dignity.”

Seeing that even now, Fang Dahai could remain composed, express thanks, and show gratitude—the adults all genuinely felt relieved.

With a house full of children, having even one who could take charge meant hope. It also meant less burden for the neighbors in the future.

Not that they were cold-hearted. They felt for the kids and wanted to help—but in the end, this wasn’t their family. They weren’t well-off themselves, and what they could spare was very limited.

Of course, polite words still needed to be said:

“We’re all old neighbors, there’s no need for such polite words—it’s only right. But your father’s situation… Tomorrow, all those from the village who passed away will be buried. You see, your family…”

Since Fang Dahai could make decisions, they couldn’t just handle the funeral matters on their own without saying anything. Some things needed to be made clear—helping out now only to be blamed later would be unfair. Uncle Laogen, who had been the first to lend a hand, spoke up again.

“Our family will go with the others. At least that way, Dad will have some company on his journey to the afterlife.”

The matter was actually quite simple. Given their family’s current situation, they didn’t even have the means to keep the body for long. They didn’t even have a coffin—what, were they supposed to let the corpse just lie there on a door plank? And Fang Dahai had seen how stripped this household had become. Aside from the two small bundles they carried with them, there was likely nothing left in the house—not even a clue where the next meal would come from. There was no way they could prepare anything like tofu soup or funeral rice. So, an early burial was the most efficient and appropriate solution.

“All right then. I’ll have Shitou go and notify the others. Tomorrow morning, I’ll bring some folks over to help wrap your father’s body and send him off properly.”

The neighbors knew this family had no adults left, and were helping however they could. Fang Dahai was truly grateful. He quickly pulled Fang Dajiang up, and together they knelt down to kowtow in front of the older neighbors and offered the proper mourning etiquette.

“We kowtow to our uncles and elder brothers. My brother and I will never forget this great kindness for as long as we live.”

“Ai, don’t be like that. Get up, hurry. You poor boys…”

…

That night, Dongshan Village, cloaked in darkness, was filled with the quiet sound of weeping.

Fang Dahai sat in the central room before his father’s spirit, keeping vigil. Though there was a brazier burning, his heart still felt cold. It really felt like this time-travel start was quite unlucky.

But time-travel was always a one-way trip—no returns, no do-overs. So even though the unease clawed at his heart, some things still had to be thought about.

He had just tried to calculate the timeline and carefully recalled the videos he had once watched about the liberation of Beijing. If he remembered correctly… in December of this year, the PLA would be surrounding the city. So would places like theirs be liberated beforehand? November? Or maybe even October? Would there be a big battle? Would it affect their village?

Sigh. If only he had watched more closely back then. No, even if he had, after everything that happened during the Ming Dynasty segment of his journey, he probably wouldn’t have remembered it anyway. Forget it—better to focus on the present. At the very least, this place seemed relatively safe for now.

Thump.

Dozing off while sitting, Fang Dajiang suddenly lost balance and fell off the small stool, hitting the ground and waking with a start.

Seeing his big brother still sitting in the same spot, leaning against the doorframe, Fang Dajiang rubbed his eyes and shuffled over.

“Big Brother.”

“What’s wrong? Did you hurt yourself? Here—do what I’m doing. Lean against the door to sleep, that way you won’t fall.”

As he spoke, Fang Dahai pulled his younger brother over and used his own body to block the wind.

“Big brother’s got you. Go to sleep now—we have to bury Dad first thing in the morning.”

He even nudged the brazier closer so his little brother could feel more warmth.

Seeing his big brother like this, Fang Dajiang felt a wave of emotion—that soft vulnerability and warmth from being cared for surged up. Unconsciously, he leaned a little closer to Fang Dahai. But then, remembering he was a boy and shouldn’t be weak, he tried to act tough and muttered:

“Then… then should I stay up with you?”

“No need. Your brother is keeping watch, that’s enough. Didn’t you see I had Sister Yulan and Xiangcao sleep in the kitchen? Come on, close your eyes.”

Fang Dahai’s tone was like that of an adult, with a slightly commanding air, which was very different from the Fang Dahai of the past. But at this moment, Fang Dajiang didn’t mind at all. In fact, it made him feel even safer. So he obediently closed his eyes and curled up behind Fang Dahai, falling asleep.

Perhaps it had truly been an exhausting day—before long, the boy was snoring softly.

Seeing that he was really asleep, Fang Dahai wanted to test out his spin wheel, to see if he could draw something useful for their survival. But after glancing at the kitchen, he decided to go check in there first.

As he carefully pushed open the door, he saw He Yulan curled up beside Xiangcao near the pile of firewood. The moment she heard a sound, her eyes snapped open. Her whole body tensed as she gripped a thick piece of firewood, ready to strike at a moment’s notice.

“Don’t worry—it’s me.”

Seeing her like that, Fang Dahai realized just how uneasy this girl must be. He quickly spoke softly to reassure her and stepped forward so she could see his face clearly. Once she relaxed, he went over to add some firewood to the brazier. Then he gently touched Xiangcao’s forehead to make sure she didn’t have a fever. Seeing all was well, he didn’t linger. Quietly, he left the room and gently closed the crooked door.

Standing in the open courtyard, Fang Dahai looked up at the cold moonlight, closed his eyes briefly, then turned his attention seriously to the spin wheel.

“Points: 5? Let’s see what I can draw…”