Chapter 1772 - 1365: Night of Returning Home (Part 4)

Some early risers in the village were picking tea on the mountain. Seeing them, they greeted from afar: "Is Harmony back? And this is..."

"My brother, Peace, back from abroad." Harmony replied loudly.

"Peace! It's been so many years since we've seen you! You're making big money overseas, aren't you? Your parents would be so happy to see this!"

The old man's voice echoed through the valley.

The parents' grave was grand but not overly extravagant.

Marble tombstone, black background with golden lettering. The fence was stainless steel, painted black. There was a small cement patch in front of the grave for worshipping.

Cypress trees surrounded the tombstone, already taller than a person.

Song Heping let his siblings and brother-in-law wait beside him while he walked alone to the grave.

He crouched down and brushed away leaves and dust from the tombstone with his hand.

His fingertips touched the cold stone, where the names of his parents, their birth and death dates, and a line of small characters were engraved:

"A life of hard work, thriftiness at home, raising children, grace as weighty as a mountain."

He took out a bottle of Maotai from his backpack.

Upon opening it, the aroma of the liquor wafted out with the unique sweet and dense scent of jujube.

He spilled half the bottle in front of the grave.

The clear liquor seeped into the soil, leaving dark traces.

"Dad, Mom, your son has been unfilial, not coming back to see you all these years."

His voice was soft, but in the silent mountains, his siblings not far behind heard him clearly.

Lingling couldn't help but turn her back, her shoulders slightly shaking.

Harmony embraced her, gently patting her shoulder in comfort, his own eyes reddening.

"Dad, before you passed away, you told me to take care of my younger siblings, to be an upright person. The first, I've tried my best. Both siblings are doing well now, with jobs, and have started their own families. Lingling is pregnant, by the end of the year, you'll have a grandchild."

The mountain wind rustled, making the cypress trees rustle as if responding.

"The second thing..."

He paused, his fingers caressing the engraved words on the tombstone.

"The path I've taken might not be the one you wished for. When you passed, I lied that I was in engineering, but by then I was already on another path. But I can assure you, your son has never done anything immoral or harmed innocent people. Every penny I made was earned with my life, clean and honest."

"Mom, you loved me the most. I was naughty when I was a child, causing trouble, and you protected me, even paying with your own money. I'm sorry, Mom, for worrying you. But I remember the principles you taught me—to be conscientious, to have a bottom line."

He poured some more liquor.

The bottle was now empty.

"Now I'm back. My siblings have grown up, started families, and are doing well. You can be at peace. I'm doing okay outside too, with my own business, with brothers. Yet sometimes, I miss home; I miss your braised pork; I miss Dad's tea."

After saying this, he remained silent for a long time, squatting before the grave, looking at the photos on the tombstone.

The mountain wind blew, and the pine trees rustled with a whooshing sound.

Harmony came over, patted his shoulder: "Brother, let's get up. Mom and Dad must be happy knowing you're back."

Song Heping stood up, Lingling and Zhang Wei also came over, and four of them burned paper money together.

The yellow paper curled, blackened in the flames, turned into ashes carried by the wind, swirling upwards like black butterflies.

They placed offerings—apples, oranges, pastries.

Lingling placed a bouquet of chrysanthemums in front of the tombstone.

The four of them bowed three times together.

On their way down the mountain, Song Heping asked: "Have any relatives been in touch with the family over these years?"

"Not many." Harmony admitted honestly: "Uncle passed away the year before, and the younger uncle's family moved to the provincial city; their kids are studying there. Other relatives only meet during weddings and funerals."

"Has anyone asked about me?"

"Yes. They all say you're making a lot of money overseas, running a big company, living in a big villa. Some want to borrow money, some want job referrals, some want to do business with you. I told them as you instructed, that you're busy with work, can't be contacted, and can't come back."

Song Heping didn't ask any more.

That's the effect he wanted—distant but not completely severed.

To protect his family while not completely severing ties, as that might seem suspicious.

Returning to the ancestral home, he took a turn around the house.

The first floor had the main hall, kitchen, dining room.

The kitchen was modernized but kept the traditional stove.

Food cooked on the traditional stove was particularly fragrant, and even when building new houses, villagers would still keep such wood-burning stoves.

The dining room had a traditional eight-immortal table covered with an embroidered tablecloth.

The second floor consisted of three bedrooms, all renovated to modern standards, with en-suite bathrooms, air conditioning, and water heaters.

The largest room was reserved for Song Heping, facing south with plenty of sunlight.

The third floor had a large terrace with rattan chairs and table, overlooking the whole old street and the distant mountains.

The terrace also had some potted plants—roses, jasmine, mint, all thriving well.

"The ancestral house is nicely renovated." He turned to Song He Xie and asked: "Did it cost a lot of money?"

"You sent back two million earlier. We used more than one point six million. I've saved the rest for you." Harmony said: "The materials used for renovation are good, eco-friendly without formaldehyde. The workers were the best, old masters, meticulous craftsmanship."

"No need to save; spend as needed." Song Heping said: "Is the house you live in the city still on a mortgage?"

"Paid off long ago." Lingling said: "Brother, did you forget? It was paid in full; there was no mortgage. Just the property fees and utilities are a bit high, but with our current income, it's affordable."

"That's good then."

They had lunch at the ancestral home, where Lingling cooked a few home-style dishes.

Green peppers with pork, tomato and eggs, stir-fried water spinach, seaweed egg drop soup. All were dishes they often ate growing up.