At that moment, the three Xu uncles felt like crying. Their Xiaoqi was even more optimistic than they had imagined.

“Xiaoqi, I have two movie tickets here. You can invite a friend to watch with you.” Before going to work, the eldest aunt slipped the tickets into Xiaoqi’s hand.

“Xiaoqi, I remember you said you loved Wang’s sweet-skin duck. Aunt will buy it for you when I get off work, okay? Be good, I’m going to work.” The second aunt hugged Xiaoqi and left with a smile.

So, love is mutual!

Mu Xiaoqi, after living two lifetimes, finally understood this simple truth.

After breakfast, Mu Xiaoqi accompanied her grandmother for a walk.  When they returned, she went straight to the study.

The movie tickets from the eldest aunt were for *Shaolin Temple*, which was showing this Sunday. Mu Xiaoqi held the tickets, thinking of Zhao Xilie.  It didn’t seem right to make him take a special trip just to watch a movie.  Propping her chin up with her hands, Mu Xiaoqi couldn’t decide.

Meanwhile, Xu Yingjun had arrived at the entrance of Wanxing Village.

He had borrowed a friend’s Santana and had driven for five hours to reach this mountain-enclosed village. It was even poorer than he had imagined.

The appearance of the white Santana caused a sensation in Wanxing Village. Villagers gossiped: what kind of big shot had arrived?

People gathered around, but no one dared to speak to Xu Yingjun, who was dressed in a suit and leather shoes.

“Hello, does anyone know Zhao Xilie? How do I get to his house?” Xu Yingjun approached proactively. The car couldn’t go any further, so he had to walk.

Hearing that someone was looking for Zhao Xilie, a middle-aged man with a hoe on his shoulder stopped.

When did Xiaolie get to know such a big shot?

“Everyone in our village knows Zhao Xilie. There, that’s Zhao Xilie’s uncle.”  They were curious about what this rich-looking man wanted with Zhao Xilie but didn’t dare to ask.

Xu Yingjun, having read Zhao Xilie’s file, raised an eyebrow and approached Zhao Xilie’s uncle, Zhao Jianguo.

“Brother, could you please take me to Zhao Xilie’s house?”

Under Xu Yingjun’s gaze, Zhao Jianguo mumbled an affirmative response after a long pause.  Countless thoughts raced through his mind: he wanted to know what this man wanted with his nephew, and whether he was sent by someone?

Zhao Xilie’s relatives all lived in the mountains; his nephew couldn’t possibly have connections with such a big shot.

Except for Zhao Xilie’s mother, who had abandoned her husband and child…

Zhao Jianguo felt a mix of emotions, so he didn’t say a word on the way, silently leading the way.

It took a half-hour walk from the village entrance to Zhao Xilie’s house. Xu Yingjun, wearing leather shoes, frowned; perhaps he shouldn’t have come here.

“We’re here. That’s Zhao Xilie’s house.” Zhao Jianguo looked back at the important person, trying to read his expression.

Xu Yingjun’s brow was furrowed so tightly it could kill a mosquito.  The mud-brick house looked old; the straw and mud plaster on the walls were peeling, revealing large patches of yellow mud bricks.

A line of characters was painted on the side wall with limewater:  The Path to Fewer Births, Rapid Enrichment, and a Comfortable Life.

“Xiaolie, are you home? Someone’s looking for you!” Zhao Jianguo shouted. It was noon; otherwise, there wouldn’t be so many people gathered at the village entrance; everyone had just finished working in the fields.

A girl in homespun clothes ran out of the house.

Seeing the important person behind Zhao Jianguo, the girl paused slightly. “My brother is still on the mountain; he should be back soon.”

After leading the man there, Zhao Jianguo seemed to have no reason to stay.  His nephew’s children were never close to him; even though he was Zhao Xilie’s uncle, he was less important to his nephew than a stranger.

Xu Yingjun noticed Zhao Jianguo’s immediate departure and raised an eyebrow.

Wasn’t he Zhao Xilie’s uncle? Why was he so cold?

Zhao Baixue had never seen such an important person. She led him to the entrance hall and brought him a cup of camellia tea that her brother had brewed.

The kitchen was still cooking; the girl briefly greeted him and went back to her work.

Sitting on a wooden stool, Xu Yingjun held the porcelain cup. He had to admit that the house was indeed dilapidated but clean and tidy.  There wasn’t even a single cobweb on the roof or walls, and everything was neatly arranged.

The air was filled with the aroma of firewood-cooked rice, and Xu Yingjun suddenly felt hungry.

The midday sun was like a stern principal, making people sweat profusely. Cicadas chirped incessantly, and occasionally a breeze carrying the scent of grass blew by.

Zhao Xilie walked under the scorching sun, carrying a full backpack of mountain goods. His clothes were soaked with sweat.  Sweat streamed down his chin, along his neck, and disappeared into his strong chest.

Wiping the sweat from his face, Zhao Xilie quickened his pace home.

Seeing the man in a suit, who shouldn’t be in a mountain village, and who bore a slight resemblance to Xiaoqi, Zhao Xilie guessed his identity.

“Sorry to keep you waiting. I need to take a shower first.” Zhao Xilie put down his backpack, his expression calm.

This was a young man who instantly impressed Xu Yingjun, but this didn’t affect the purpose of his visit.

Handing Zhao Xilie the tea, Xu Yingjun nodded. “No hurry. You shouldn’t shower right now. Let’s have a quick chat.”

In the kitchen, Zhao Baixue’s scooping of rice paused slightly because of Xu Yingjun’s words. He didn’t seem to be here to cause trouble; should she add another dish?

It was half an hour later when the three of them sat down at the square table.

The dinner table was quiet, only the sound of chopsticks picking up food. Xu Yingjun paid attention to the siblings’ expressions and actions. They seemed very different from what the files described.  He shouldn’t have relied entirely on the files; he needed to find out for himself.