Xueming was stuffing sesame treats into his mouth, listening to the vindictive chatter of his gathered family members and neighbors.

Each family’s matriarch was battling to outdo the other, so the topics quickly escalated: first beginning with local love scandals, then evolving to stories that implicated provincial-level government officials and three generations of their ancestors. After that, the two families began to shout back and forth over theories on how the tyrant king really died, or if he really had at all.

Xueming blinked and chewed through each point, finding himself quite enlightened by the conversation.

Auntie Xinrou, her very filial son Xiaojun, and Xueming’s mother were the most engaged in the conversation, while Xueming’s father entertained himself with a cup of green tea that had long gone lukewarm, Lanzhi simply blinked at whoever spoke next, and Xiaojun’s wife clutched a fresh cup of steaming tea that she occasionally sipped.

That little boy, Chengan, who looked to be on the edge of childhood and the cusp of adolescence, alternated between gnawing on the sweet in his hand and reaching for another one.

Xueming and him were exchanging silent reviews of each treat, but when they finished trying all the treats, they would just start over. Neither knew when they had started cooperating like this.

Xueming would first reach for a new sweet, taste it, and then nod, finding everything quite pleasing, and then Chengan would opt for the same treat, taste it and either make a face or nod as well.

Chengan seemed to hate the dried plum, his face growing progressively more disgusted the more he was compelled to eat it, and eventually he outright refused to follow Xueming’s lead when he reached for it. But Xueming happily ate it while the little boy went hungry.

“I still can’t believe it—the entire country was taken in a mere seven days.” Auntie Xinrou was saying, shaking her head as she took a sip of tea. She grimaced a little, likely from the cool temperature of the liquid, and Xueming tried not to smile.

“It seems impossible,” Xueming’s mother agreed, also taking a sip of the tea for herself.

Xueming and Chengan were currently tasting the plain pancakes.

Xueming nodded, and Chengan also nodded.

“Things are already improving in mere months,” Xiaojun commented idly, glancing over at the Lanzhi, but instead of some exciting follow-up, all he received in support was a quiet nod.

Xueming figured he could replace Lanzhi with some clay doll and pull a string to move its head and no one would know any better.

“It was the scariest when they were racing to release all of the…” Auntie Xinrou paused, her eyes flickering to Xueming, who was peacefully finishing the pancake in pace with Chengan. “...prisoners.”

A moment of silence washed over them, and Xueming’s mother hurried to speak up.

“I heard Gao Meimei delayed her marriage since the king’s death,” she bellowed out in a nasily voice, skillfully steered the conversation back to a matter of tier-one severity, wanting to avoid any discussions of prison in front of Xueming.

“Ah, yes—poor girl,” Auntie Xinrou pursed her lips and took another sip of the tea, only to remember why she hadn’t liked it in the first place. With a clang, she set down her cup. “She’s already delayed it this long. I am surprised she still has a suitor at her age—you would think it’s too late now, but I guess the wealthy play by different rules.”

Xueming reached for a stuffed pancake now, vaguely remembering some little girl named Meimei. She wasn’t one of their neighbors, but someone well-known within the community. He even went to school with the girl.

“Her family has been struggling since the king died,” Xueming’s mother was saying.

“Serves them right,” Xueming’s father suddenly piped up, setting his tea down as well.

Xusheng’s mother, ever the hostess, quickly went to change their tea out after finding an appropriate time to excuse herself.

“Her father worked for the old king, yes,” Xiaojun also piped in, “But could anyone really blame him? We are all just trying to survive.”

Auntie Xinrou’s family could be more compassionate since they had never really experienced any losses due to the king, but the Jian family had lost their son for twenty-five years, so they were less rational about the matter.

“Master Gao simply adjusts the rudder according to the wind,” Xueming’s father said between his teeth. “That family will be fine.”

Xueming was finally able to attach a name to a face that he found in many of his childhood memories. Gao Meimei was a girl who had just been starting her studies as he was leaving them behind.

It was strange for Xueming to think of this little girl getting married.

It was like time had stopped for Xueming when he had been detained, and he expected everything to be the same when he returned to Chongqing. Like he could spend an eternity in prison and she could still only remain a child.

But what was stranger was that he found there were others in his memories that he had played with whose names seemed like they existed on the tip of his tongue. These memories were veiled by a wall of mist, but the mist was not a result of his stay in prison—it was simply due to the natural eroding effect of time.

Xueming stopped chewing, the stuffed pancake still undigested in his mouth.

Xueming’s mother soon returned with the emptied cups and began to pour fresh tea into each of them. Only Xiaojun’s wife had been smart enough to stay quiet and drink her first cup quickly.

On the thought of Xiaojun’s wife, Xueming made sure to glance at her only long enough to not be disrespectful. He only wanted a glimpse to try and wrap his head around it—the entire sight of Xiaojun with a family was quite strange. Xiaojun, too, should just be an adolescent.

It seemed only Xueming’s family hadn’t changed since he had been detained, like their life had been on pause as well.

Xueming felt a pang in his chest, and he swallowed that piece of pancake whole. Before he could choke, he downed the cold tea he had kept from his mother’s sweeping hands like a squirrel hoarding a prized nut.

What positions would Lanzhi or Xueming be in if he hadn’t ever dared protest with that little sign and those two characters he had bet his entire life for? Would at least Lanzhi have been able to meet a woman, have a family, and live happily, not prone to overworking or overthinking about his brother?

It was quite bitter to think that Xueming had been correct in his stance—just correct twenty-five years too early.

“I heard Meimei fell in love with one of the foxfolk when she was younger and Master Gao has been trying to marry her off ever since.” Xueming’s mother laughed lightly as she poured tea.

No one except Xueming noticed how his older brother froze, his dark, frosty gaze pinning him in place. But Xueming was too tired and too distracted by the sight of Xiaojun with a wife and child to care. He made a smacking noise with his mouth and tongue as he once again tasted the bitterness of the cold tea, choosing to only half-listen.

“Oh, the one they all used to play with?” Auntie Xinrou piped in eagerly, her eyes drifting over each person gathered. However, she soon noticed Lanzhi’s expression and became a little hesitant, wondering how she could both humor her friend but also appease her friend’s son. “What… What was his name?”

Xueming’s mother was oblivious to her own son’s brooding as she pushed the fresh cups of tea around the table. Her eyes landed on Xueming’s empty cup like a hawk, but she figured there was no way for her to fight it out of his hands.

“Ah, how could you not remember?” she laughed lightly. “I guess Xiaojun never really had time to play with them. It was—”

Suddenly, Lanzhi shot out of his seat, his body teeming with tension, his face stiff with anger. His eyes were blazing as he looked at Xueming, who was only contently eating his pancake. Really, he was the only one who was bothered, but that only told him he was the only who was sane.

“I need to go into town today,” he declared. The two families looked up at him with wide eyes, their expressions fearful, and realization dawned over them a little too late. How forgetful and thoughtless they were before they spoke! “I need to deliver medicine,” he stated plainly, his eyes never leaving Xueming, who was the only one who didn’t look scared. “And I wanted to take Xueming with me.”

Only moments later, stuffed in a rather large overcoat, Xueming was being dragged out the door.

“I always speak so idly,” they both heard their mother say in anguish.

Xueming pretended not to hear and let himself be half-carried outside.

“What is… the rush?” he asked, trying to sound casual.

His brother was clearly uncomfortable with the previous topic, but only flashed him a tight smile.

“I am late,” he excused his abrupt behavior smoothly. “I informed a few patients I left in dire situations that I would be returning ahead of time, and I must take over for my colleague, who is travelling within the next week.”

Lanzhi was a local doctor in Chongqing, and had been working as such for as long as Xueming had known him. It seemed not much had actually changed concerning his older brother.

They walked over to the ox cart they had taken from Huo Guang Market and Xueming climbed in with the grace of a parcel being carelessly tossed inside. He sure felt like heavily packaged freight in this coat.

“I have to return this today,” Lanzhi said as he passed by the cart to untie the ox.

Xueming was quiet, trying to find the courage to ask.

“How… How did you afford to take a carriage from… the capital? Even this? We… travelled such a… long way…?”

Lanzhi did not speak, and Xueming figured he would not receive an answer now.

The silence was a plain enough reply: Don’t ask.

They travelled back in the direction of Huo Guang Market, but not so far south, until they reached the most bustling part of the city.

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Lanzhi led his brother through busy streets, with merchants’ shouts, children’s laughs, and lovers’ whispers all around them. Lanzhi steered them left, then right, then left, until eventually Xueming felt fairly lost.

They stopped in front of a shop and Lanzhi motioned for them to climb out of the cart. Moments later, Lanzhi disappeared inside, with Xueming waiting near the front.

He watched the streets, finding it all so familiar yet so new.

There was a certain joy amongst the people he couldn’t quite put his finger on. A certain freedom.

Xueming’s mouth curled at the edge, but he was too distracted to notice. He watched people jump and shout and dance all around him.

It was well into the afternoon, with the sun bright and warm in the winter chill.

Xueming shivered a little, feeling like a little child wearing his father’s coat, but he was grateful for the extra warmth. He had never had such a luxury in prison.

Lanzhi appeared before him in record time, and steered him by the arm down another street. Even here, it seemed the streets were decorated for the new year. Xueming suspected the people were celebrating something else this year.

They walked a while before Lanzhi stopped in front of another street.

“What happened to your little mobile shop?” Xueming smiled a little more as he asked.

Lanzhi gave him a look, then paused.

“Heh,” he snorted, giving Xueming a clap on the back. “I share this place with colleagues. Don’t think I can afford this on my own.”

Still, Xueming admired how far his brother had come.

“What?” Xueming continued as they entered the little shop, listening to a bell chime as the front door opened. “Do you also serve the… wealthy now too?”

Xueming was immediately hit with the smell of herbs when he entered, but the combination was so muddled, he could not quite pin down the scent to a specific plant.

Lanzhi did not reply, but instead instructed Xueming to remain near the entrance as he disappeared behind a counter and into a back room.

A few moments later, two men emerged out of what seemed like thin air.

Lanzhi smiled over at Xueming, then addressed the man, “Doctor Liu, this is my younger brother, Jian Xueming.”

Doctor Liu was a tall man with a harsh appearance. His face structure was all hard lines, and his hair was extremely dark, and simply tied back. He wore plain yet elegant robes that were pale, off-white. His entire appearance was quite intimidating. Xueming would hate to be a patient of his.

Xueming extended his greetings with the man and then began to analyze the pattern in the wood of the floor panels.

“I have a few days left in the city, which will make the transition smooth. ” Doctor Liu was saying, “Let’s split the work today, until you are comfortable doing it all yourself.”

Lanzhi nodded gratefully.

“I have finished everything that needs to be prepared today,” Doctor Liu informed him. “Why don’t you go deliver a few and then take it easy for the rest of the day?”

Lanzhi followed his directions and returned to the back.

Xueming felt quite awkward in the room alone with the man, but he seemed to simply be organizing things at the counter. He bent over to scribble a few notes on a large sheet of paper.

“Honorable younger brother,” Doctor Liu suddenly called out, and Xueming was forced to stop staring at the floor. “I gladly took over for Doctor Jian while he went to go get you.”

Xueming only felt his breath catch in his throat.

“I think the heavens truly have blessed us.”

Xueming simply stared, his ears burning a little as he listened, hoping his brother would return so he wouldn’t be left alone with this man any longer. His hands were clammy as he played with his fingers.

“I just wanted to express my sincerity and gladness for honorable younger brother’s health and safe return home.”

Nodding with a small smile, Xueming managed to clear his throat and say, “Thank you for… serving in my… brother’s place.”

The room went quiet a while later, until Lanzhi popped back in with a number of medicines in hand. There were notes on top of them, but Xueming could not see what was written from a distance.

“There are only a few,” Lanzhi noted as he came out.

Doctor Liu nodded, smiled, and then said, “You two should take a break.”

Lanzhi was just about to protest when Doctor Liu continued.

“There is a shrine set up to honor Peerless in the city centre. Go take a look.”

Xueming froze, his awkward smile freezing with him. Lanzhi cleared his own throat, then simply nodded and walked towards the front door.

“He was recently released like honorable younger brother,” Doctor Liu continued, oblivious to the brothers’ discomfort. “I am certain you heard of him before…” Doctor Liu paused, and Lanzhi was already halfway out of the shop. His voice came almost like a hum. “Well, yes, unless you were arrested before even him…”

“We will be taking our leave now, Doctor Liu,” Lanzhi said in a disgruntled manner, then, seeing his younger brother was unmoving, barked out a: “Xueming.”

Outside the shop, Lanzhi and Xueming loaded the medicine into an ox cart belonging to the doctors.

“I will bring you home before I come to return this cart,” Lanzhi said, still clearly disturbed by the exchange just moments before.

Xueming opened his mouth in protest, finding he did it automatically before his older brother hit him with a sharp gaze that held him in place.

“You cannot walk such a distance, it’s obvious,” he said, venom in his tone. Then, sighing, Lanzhi realized he was taking out his anger on a brother who had done nothing wrong. “I will try to share a ride with someone on the way back. There are always people coming and going for work.”

Silently, Xueming stared at his older brother. Gradually, the wrinkles between his brows relaxed, and the tumultuous line of his mouth settled.

Just as the two were about to depart, with Lanzhi aware of their destinations, and Xueming, a trusting passenger along for the ride, they were haphazardly blocked by a man. The man wore pristine blue robes, though they were not as nice as the ones Lanzhi had gifted. He looked all proper and mannered, with dark brown hair and gentle eyes, though his actions were rather rash and even rude.

“I am a servant coming to plead for my master,” the man said quite confidently, though there was a little slip in his voice that informed the brothers of poorly-concealed nerves.

“If this master has the luxury to send a servant, then this master can also find a doctor suitable for his station,” Lanzhi said plainly, and Xueming looked over at him, quite surprised by how heartless his response was.

The servant was unmoved and actually smiled in amusement.

“If my master could afford to call a doctor to his house, does the doctor not think he would?” the servant said honestly.

Lanzhi was silently brooding, and the servant took it as a welcome to continue.

“My master can no longer continue to accept service from private doctors. Please, even if the service is less, he needs to purchase treatment for his wife.”

Lanzhi shook his head, already taking the reins of the cart.

“I cannot afford to take new patients right now. Please, try to find someone else,” Lanzhi said sternly, his words polite, but his tone a warning.

“Please,” the servant’s voice changed a little, dropping, breaking, and Xueming looked at his brother with shining eyes, wondering what he was thinking. “I have the prescription already. The master’s wife would not even need a diagnosis—”

Lanzhi glared at the man, boiling over with anger.

“I will not accept this diagnosis just because a private doctor has given it.” His voice lowered, but it was not any less harsh. He glanced over at Xueming, who was frowning conspicuously. “Has the master’s wife not been on the same treatment for a while? Clearly, it has not helped.”

Xueming’s eyes widened a little.

His brother seemed to know of this wealthy master’s wife, even if he was not her doctor.

Wincing, the servant protested back: “That is because the mistress’ condition is incurable!”

Lanzhi scoffed, raising the reins once. The servant did not move from in front of the ox.

“Then continue to use this prescription,” he said in a tone that made it clear this was none of his concern.

The servant seemed on the verge of tears.

“The prescription is not for a lifetime! I cannot continue to get treatment for the mistress without another doctor’s assessment!”

Sighing, Lanzhi looked at the man with a glaze over his eyes, feeling a little pang in his heart as a physician. Still, the rest of his body remained cold as ice.

“There are many other doctors in the area—this is Chongqing,” Lanzhi said lazily, his tone no longer venomous, but exhausted.

“Please,” the servant whined. “My master did not turn Doctor Jian away like this—”

Lanzhi froze, his gaze bitting. To think this servant would have such audacity.

Xueming peered between the servant and his brother, feeling as though he was watching a dramatic play. All he needed was some snacks. He bitterly thought that Chengan was likely still eating without him now.

“Can’t you see I am with my didi?” Lanzhi suddenly yelled, overcome with anger. Xueming jolted beside him, his body reacting immediately. “Can the mistress not leave us alone even now? Do I owe the Hao family something?”

“No, no!” The servant insisted back, quite startled and embarrassed to have angered him to this extent. “My master and mistress are so happy that the second young master of the Jian family is back safe and sound! My master does not wish to make Doctor Jian feel as though he owes something!”

“Then go find some other doctor!” Lanzhi spat back, his face bright red.

“My master cannot!” the servant fell to his knees, his hands collapsed together as though he was praying. “My master needs discretion and Doctor Jian is the only one he can trust!”

The three were silent for a long while, with the two brothers watching the servant lower his forehead to the ground. One brother’s gaze burned with unchecked rage, while the other’s was filled with ignorant pity.

“Gege,” Xueming said in a soft voice, lifting his eyes from the servant to his brother’s stark and cold face.

It was just one word, but it was enough.

Lanzhi knew what his younger brother was asking of him. And after a long stretch of silence, he actually agreed.

“Fine,” Lanzhi sighed. It was the last word he ever wanted to say. He glanced at Xueming, taking pity on him instead of the servant. It was not good to show such apathy now, when his younger brother was still recovering. “But I will come to the Hao family house last. After I have delivered all the medicine to my actual patients. Understood?”

The servant cried out some indiscernible sound, then kowtowed three times and leaped to his feet, a shy smile on his face.

“This kindness will not be forgotten, Doctor Jian!” He exclaimed, bowing hysterically. “May the heavens bless you both, Doctor Jian and Young Master!”

The servant scurried away, knowing now was the time to retreat back to his master’s house.

After only exchanging a look, the two brothers started their journey across Chongqing city, delivering medicine to those awaiting it. Lanzhi led the cart through many side roads, and eventually, Xueming realized they never crossed the centre of the city despite it being much faster.

Xueming looked at his brother with a mix of emotions, finding him quite complex in personality.

There were a lot of people his brother knew that he did not.

There was a lot his brother had experienced these past twenty-five years that he was unaware of.

Maybe in time, he would come to understand Lanzhi again. Maybe in time, Lanzhi could understand him.

For now, they would avoid seeing the shrine built for Peerless, because that was what his older brother believed Xueming needed.

But in truth, Xueming knew it was what Lanzhi needed.