She was a little girl just over two years old, two tiny topknots tied on her head, her cheeks round and chubby like a ripe red apple. She was clutching Su Yang’s neck tightly, clearly frightened by the chaotic atmosphere in the main room.

Su Yang chuckled proudly, his dark face full of showmanship. “Third Son, look, your biological niece. Her name is Su Tian. Tian-niu, quick, call uncle.”

The little girl buried her face deep in her father’s neck, only one shiny black eye peeking out as she stole a glance at Su Ming, then in a baby voice barely louder than a mosquito whispered, “Uncle…”

Su Ming laughed outright.

This blood-tied affection was something he could never feel amid the cold scheming of the Cloud Hidden Sect.

He took another jade pendant of the same material from his pocket and handed it to Su Yang. “Second Brother, for the child.”

Su Yang didn’t bother with formalities like Eldest Brother. He grabbed it, weighed it in his hand, and scolded with mock reproach, “You brat, you come back and bring such expensive things! Life out there hasn’t been easy on you either.”

“Just a trinket, not valuable,” Su Ming dismissed lightly.

Su Yang pulled the young woman beside him forward and introduced her with a smile, “Third Son, this is your sister-in-law, surname Wang, given name Cuihua. She’s the daughter of Old Wang from the east of the village, steady and capable. These years our family’s been lucky to have her.”

The woman’s cheeks flushed slightly, and she nodded to Su Ming, offering a proper greeting.

Su Ming inclined his head in return and called her Second Sister-in-Law, acknowledging this woman he had never met before.

Su Yang sighed and his tone turned reflective. “Third Son, you wouldn’t know how hard it was here after you left. You disappeared with no word, Mother and Father kept worrying, Mother often wiped away tears late at night. Luckily Teacher Zhou looked after things, so we managed to live steadily in town. I figured staying in town wasn’t forever, so I took charge and brought everyone back.”

He paused, then laughed and pointed outside the door. “Our paper mill has been growing and growing. Half the village works at the mill now. Even that old rascal Village Chief Zhao Dequan has to be polite when he sees me. Parents are still fairly healthy, but Mother keeps thinking about you. Whenever she has a spare moment, she sits by the doorway and watches.”

Su Ming listened quietly, a tangle of feelings churning inside.

Su Yang continued, “Our family’s doing better, I married and we have Tian now. What about you? Over the years out there, did you find a suitable girl?”

By then Mother had recovered from her excitement and was gripping Su Ming’s hand as if afraid he’d run off. She kept barking orders, “Second Brother’s wife, go kill that old hen in my room! Eldest Brother, pull some fresh radishes from the garden! Third Son, you don’t do anything today, Mother’s cooking herself, I’ll make your favorite braised pork!”

Sister-in-law and Second Sister-in-Law hurried forward to help, but Mother pushed them away firmly. “Don’t! You two stay and keep Third Son company. I’ll handle the kitchen!”

She turned and, with slightly unsteady steps, made her way to the stove.

Su Ming didn’t sit down. He quietly moved to the kitchen doorway.

He stood there and watched his mother busy at the stove.

In the rising kitchen smoke, his mother’s back looked more hunched than in his memory. Her movements when adding fuel were still practiced, but her wrist wasn’t as nimble when chopping, and the pieces of meat she cut were somewhat uneven in size.

Still, as she flipped the pork belly in the pan, she did not forget to turn and give Su Ming, standing at the doorway, a radiant, wrinkle-lined smile. “Third Son, are you hungry? Wait a bit more, Mother will finish soon.”

The familiar rich aroma of sauce rose from the pot.

It was the smell of ordinary household life, the human warmth and daily bustle that in the cultivation world of sword flashes and midnight crises became Su Ming’s deepest longing in his dreams.

Yet seeing his mother’s graying hair and slowed movements, a sting of sorrow rose and pricked at Su Ming’s nose, impossible to suppress.

A cultivator’s closed-door training could last three to five years without much thought.

For a cultivator, five years was a blink. For mortals, five years could change black hair to white and strong bodies to frailty.

Immortals and mortals walk different paths. Those four words, at this moment, were the sharpest blade, mercilessly cutting through the false kindness of time.

…

Lunch was extravagantly plentiful, possibly the most lavish meal the Su household had had in years.

Throughout the meal, everyone kept piling dishes into Su Ming’s bowl until it formed a small mountain.

After lunch, the sun had shifted westward, stretching the shadows across the courtyard.

The family moved the long benches out and sat around basking in the sun.

Father still spoke little. He squatted on the main room’s threshold, clenching that old pipe, puffing away. The bluish-gray smoke hid his expression, but his cloudy eyes drifted to Su Ming from time to time. He would look for a while as if confirming this son had truly returned, then turn away and continue smoking.

Eldest Brother Su Feng was a straightforward man. He rubbed his hands and asked about Su Ming’s five years away with genuine concern.

“Third Son, you said you went north to study and then vanished. What have you been doing these five years? Haven’t suffered, have you?”

Su Ming smiled faintly and kept his expression calm. He left out the near-death ordeals at Blackwater Camp, the eerie Wailing Woman Lantern, and the sect-level intrigues at the Cloud Hidden Sect.

“Don’t worry, Eldest Brother. I met a reclusive master out there,” Su Ming wove the lie in an easy tone. “He saw some potential in me and took me as a disciple, teaching me ways to strengthen the body and avoid misfortune. I’ve been in the deep mountains in seclusion with him, which is why there was no word.”

“A master?” Su Feng scratched his head. “That’s great! Learn a skill and you’ll make your way anywhere!”

Others nodded, relieved to have the worry eased.

The courtyard settled into a short silence, punctuated only by the tapping of Father’s pipe and the rustle of wind through the bamboo grove.

Su Yang was quiet for a long time.

He lifted the rough porcelain tea bowl and gulped down a mouthful of cold tea, his Adam’s apple bobbing.

Then he looked at Su Ming, his voice tightening, and suddenly asked:

“Third Son, will you… come back in the future?”

At that question, the previously relaxed atmosphere froze.

Sister-in-law and Second Sister-in-Law stopped mending shoe soles; Su Feng, who had been teasing Little Tiger, froze; Mother’s smile stiffened at the corner of her mouth; even Father, squatting on the threshold, halted mid-puff.

All eyes focused on Su Ming.

Air seemed to stop moving in that instant.

Su Ming met his Second Brother’s complicated gaze, and deep within him, something felt gently tugged.

He fell silent for a long time.

His eyes slowly swept over Mother’s graying hair, Father’s stooped back, Eldest Brother’s honest face, and finally rested on Su Yang’s perceptive eyes.

At last he shook his head, very slowly.

“Maybe… not often.”

His voice was soft but every ear caught it clearly.

The courtyard was deathly quiet.

No one spoke. No one tried to persuade him or asked why.

The moment Su Ming shook his head, they all sensed an uncrossable distance from this son who had been away for five years.

Mother lowered her head and used her callused hand to rub her eye corners hard. Then, pretending to check whether the pot had boiled, she hurried into the kitchen.

Father turned his back to everyone. His pipe motion paused fully ten beats. Then he struck the pipe on his shoe sole twice to knock off the ash, refilled it, and resumed puffing. The smoke, however, seemed thicker than before.

Su Yang stared at Su Ming for a long while.

Then he smiled.

That smile hid a bitterness and reluctance that was hard to conceal, but more than that, it carried the calm acceptance and forgiveness of a brother.

He reached out his broad hand and, like in childhood, squeezed Su Ming’s shoulder hard.

“It’s fine if you don’t come back,” Su Yang said in a voice that had grown steady.

“A good man’s ambition lies in the world. The family has me and Eldest Brother. Don’t worry about us.”

He looked Su Ming in the eye and spoke each word deliberately, “You, rest assured.”