Why do I have so many masters?-Chapter 488 - 146: Someone Returns Home (1/2)

Wang Hongyi was quite bored.

Logically, he shouldn't have felt idle, with the festival approaching, even the poorest families would want to have a good meal and buy a few pounds of meat to take home, and as a butcher, this was the busiest time of the year for him. Yet, even with so much work waiting for him, he just couldn't muster up the energy and felt listless.

The village was really getting boring.

He stared blankly, mind wandering.

Busy for most of his life, he now couldn't stand being idle.

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His son had also gotten married recently, and after much discussion, for the sake of the child, he up and left for the city. Relying on his decent martial arts skills and the inner strength he had honed since a young age, he became a martial master at a martial arts school. Though it was tiring, he had managed to settle down in the city.

Initially, his son had indeed wanted to take him along.

But he himself was reluctant.

What for?

Having lived here for over a decade, he had grown attached to the place. He was the nostalgic type, otherwise, he wouldn't still be stuck in a rut.

But with his son gone, the kid from the Wang family had also left, and the older brothers he got along well with in the village had disappeared as well. The village might be familiar territory, but when compared to the strangeness of the city, it wasn't much different. Staying here didn't seem to have much point anymore.

He looked at the pig-slaughtering knife in his hand.

The knife was sharp and had served well in killing pigs for over a decade, but even the handiest of knives would one day break and become unusable. For some reason, he now felt the gradual onset of aging.

On the day his son married, he had drunk himself into a rare stupor.

The next day, half-drunk and half-sober, he called for his son to get up and cook, but no one answered. Angered, he flung open the door to see an empty bed. The feeling of being old rushed over him uncontrollably, and he sobered up instantly.

He didn't even know why he still stayed in Great Liang Village, familiar yet unfamiliar to him.

The pig-slaughtering knife in his hand tapped rhythmically on the ground.

Wang Hongyi was lost in thought.

Perhaps he feared that one day when the people he knew returned, they would find this little village had become so unfamiliar that there wouldn't be a single known face around. Maybe that's why, but would anyone return?

He thought about his son, who had just married and wanted to move away.

Wang Hongyi's confidence waned further, and he could muster even less energy than before. He leaned back in the bamboo chair, like a man growing steadily older, slack and listless, his eyes watching the outside world. The courtyard door was half-open, allowing him to see even further; the snow had stopped, and the sky was a beautiful shade of blue.

Wang Hongyi's eyes were half-closed.

This bamboo chair had been specially made for him, intended for holding his grandson in the future. Now, with only himself to sit in it, he swayed gently, slowly drifting into a doze.

The Great Liang Village of now was only more familiar to him in dreams.

In his drowsy state, he heard a familiar voice.

"Uncle Wang, soaking up the sun so early..."

Caught between sleep and wakefulness, Wang Hongyi almost instinctively responded,

"Early? Don't you see what time it is..."

The voice came to an abrupt halt, and Wang Hongyi, with his eyes still closed, seemed to think he was dreaming, but then he heard the sound of footsteps approaching. He cautiously opened his eyes and looked in the direction of the sound.

There was no one there.

Wang Hongyi felt a mixture of disappointment and self-mockery as he shook his head. He shifted in the bamboo chair to find a more comfortable position, closed his eyes, and prepared to continue his nap.

But then he heard a voice of surprise coming from behind him.

"There are still so many pigs left unslaughtered..."

"Uncle Wang, aren't you afraid of people blocking your door?"

"Afraid of what?"

Wang Hongyi instinctively replied, and then he paused. He suddenly sat up straight in the chair and turned to look back, only to see a young man, about seventeen or eighteen, standing in front of the pigpen in his own yard.

The young man was dressed in a blue shirt, his features already mature but with an extremely familiar look in his eyes, as he turned his head and smiled at him,

"Long time no see, Uncle Wang."

"You've been a bit lazy this festival season... With just a few days left, can you handle all these pigs by yourself?"

"Need any help?"

Wang Hongyi blinked, suddenly enlivened, smacked his lips, and hopped off the old man's chair onto the ground. With a gruff voice he said,

"You brat, looking down on your Uncle Wang, eh?"

"These two fat pigs will be done with just two strokes."

"You're the one, why did you come back so late this year? I thought you wouldn't be coming back for the festival this year."

Wang Anfeng chuckled, seeing a few strands of white hair in the temples of the tall and burly man he remembered, she hid her own experiences and said with a smile,

"I encountered some things on the way, which delayed me a little."

As she spoke, she lifted her hand, holding some New Year's goods and a brand-new pig-slaughtering knife, and said,

"I also prepared some New Year's goods."

Wang Hongyi smacked his lips and said, "You didn't buy any wine either, that's not cool."

Anfeng was startled for a moment, then she laughed and said,

"Uncle Wang, don't you dislike drinking?"

Wang Hongyi glared at her with his eyes and said,

"Can't I want to drink now?"

"Alright, don't just stand there, go change your clothes, take a knife, and come out to help me pin down this fatty pig."

"Let's slaughter it early to let the blood dry, and we can settle down sooner, with the New Year approaching."

Wang Anfeng agreed with a smile and said,

"Okay."

In Jinxian County city, at the County Magistrate's Mansion.

Zhang Weiran changed into casual clothes, stood with his hands behind his back in the middle of the courtyard, and gazed at the snowflakes drifting from the sky, somewhat lost in thought.

In the past few days, there were winter plums to admire, but now those plum blossoms have all fallen, and the yard has become bare. Moreover, with the festival approaching, half of the people in the mansion were temporary workers who would be going home to reunite with their parents.

Thus, the mansion was left with only a few servants brought from his clan, making it significantly less crowded and also adding a touch of loneliness. This prompted Zhang Weiran to feel the urge to compose poetry.

However, after pondering for a while, he realized that his literary skills, which had been neglected since he left to take office, were no longer what they used to be, and any poem he could contrive would likely be a mess, so he dismissed the idea.

A graceful woman came out of the room, walked behind Zhang Weiran, and draped a large coat over him, saying softly,

"It is cold at this time; what are you doing here, my husband?"

Zhang Weiran smiled, took his wife's hand into his own, and sighed,

"Just daydreaming..."

"It's just that with the cold weather this year, I often think about whether Tingyun is doing well at the Taoist Sect, whether she's been wronged... And the sect as well; even though we are Tingyun's birth parents, we only saw her once during the Mid-Autumn Festival last year, and they don't even let her come back for the New Year."

His voice paused, filled with a mixture of emotions, and he sighed,

"The dusty world relinquished, the toils of sweeping left behind, one escapes the cage free from vexations."

"Taoist disciples, after all, have left worldly life; when we sent Tingyun to the mountains, we were prepared for this, but who would have known that it would still be so tough in the end..."

While he sighed, the mood of the beautiful woman beside him also darkened. Every parent harbors deep concern for their child; she too had not seen her daughter for a long time. Now, hearing her husband talk like this, she couldn't help but feel a sting in her nose.

After sighing, Zhang Weiran noticed his wife's distress, tensed up, and wished he could slap himself.

What nonsense had he been talking?!

Despite being an official for so many years, he still hadn't learned how to speak properly?

His heart shuddered, he quickly embraced his wife, consoling her with all his might, and after much effort, the woman's mood finally stabilized. Suddenly, the sound of footsteps approached. Zhang Weiran looked up to see an old woman with white hair stride toward them from the doorway.

Though her spirit was no longer buoyant, she was still fairly robust, her face beamed with joy. She stopped five steps in front of Zhang Weiran, leaning on a wooden cane, and bowed, saying,

"Young master..."

This old woman had been sent by his family to accompany him for over a decade, and Zhang Weiran held her in high regard. He nodded, and said warmly,

"What is it, nanny?"

With a smile on her face, the old woman exclaimed,

"Young master, young mistress."

"The young lady has returned!"

PS: Here is the first update of the day...

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