After finishing her morning routine, Lin Fang didn’t stand on ceremony. She took the brush from her father’s hand, pondered for a moment, and with a few bold strokes, completed a pair of Spring Festival couplets. The first line read: “Parents and elder brother dote on Fang’s soul”; the second line: “Mom, dad, and second brother pamper their little sister”; and the horizontal scroll: “Beloved family across two lifetimes.”
After handing the brush to Lin Fang, Lin Yuanmin followed his wife’s instructions to prepare ingredients for the dumpling filling. The elderly couple chatted and laughed, momentarily distracted from Lin Fang’s activities. Seizing this opportunity, Lin Fang quickly stashed away the couplets—she dared not let her parents see them.
Though the couplets weren’t perfectly symmetrical, she felt this was the most fitting expression. Having lived two lives, she had received boundless love from her parents and brothers. As the New Year approached, she missed her family from another world dearly.
Just as she was about to write traditional couplets, Heipi, who had been lying beside her, suddenly went on high alert. He crouched low, tail tucked, muscles tense, ready to launch a fatal attack at any moment.
Lin Fang also sensed the approach of unfamiliar presences—one was the familiar Lin Guicheng, the other completely unknown. Yet, she could feel the deliberately restrained domineering aura emanating from the stranger.
“Big brother, sister-in-law, I’ve come to celebrate the New Year with you. I hope you won’t mind,” Lin Guicheng called out as soon as he entered the courtyard.
The sun had just risen, and though there was no wind, the yard was bitterly cold. Most people who weren’t in a hurry to work were still indoors, and the Lin family was no exception.
Only Lin Yong and his wife Yan Ping were exceptions—they had gone to Yan Ping’s parents’ home early to help. Yan Ping’s eldest brother hadn’t returned for the New Year, and her second brother and sister-in-law were busy selling the last batch of pork, leaving no time to help their parents prepare New Year’s food. Yan Ping hadn’t had time to visit her parents in recent days either.
Ignoring the fact that their eldest son had already established his own household, Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin had prepared extra food these past few days for Yan Ping to take to her parents. The young couple would spend the entire day at Yan Ping’s parents’ home, completing in one day what others would spread over several. They had taken little Yuanyuan with them—the elderly hadn’t seen their grandson in a while and would surely miss him.
Patting Heipi’s head to signal that everything was fine, Lin Fang followed her parents out to greet the guests. Though Heipi appeared relaxed, he stayed close to Lin Fang, ready to strike at any moment, remaining silent throughout.
“Boss Lin, welcome, welcome! How could we possibly mind? We’re delighted to have you. Since you’re alone, celebrating with us will make it livelier,” Lin Yuanmin said politely while ushering Lin Guicheng inside.
Dong Huixin added cheerfully, “Come in and have some hot tea. You haven’t eaten yet, have you? Stay for breakfast, though I kept it simple today—just mixed oil tea. It’ll be ready soon—nice and hot to warm your stomach.”
“Uncle Cheng, come in and warm yourself by the fire,” Lin Fang said, setting aside her tasks to attend to the guests. She quickly cleared the stove, wiped it clean, and brought stools for Lin Guicheng and his companion to sit by the fire.
Lin Guicheng waved off Lin Fang’s assistance, making himself at home by sitting down to warm his hands. His companion remained standing until signaled, then sat stiffly on another stool, expressionless and silent—behavior that seemed rather impolite for a guest.
A pot steamed on the stove, covered with a lid, beneath which were buns. The oil tea was already prepared and set aside, ready to be served once the buns were heated.
“You’re absolutely right, big brother. I’ve spent many New Years alone. Celebrating with your family will surely make this a good one,” Lin Guicheng replied to Lin Yuanmin, then turned to Dong Huixin: “Sister-in-law, is there enough oil tea in that pot? Yours is the best I’ve ever had. We both have big appetites—we might eat you out of house and home before we’re full!” He laughed heartily.
Dong Huixin laughed too. “Eat as much as you want! I’ve prepared plenty. One pot won’t do? We’ll make two. Two won’t do? We’ll make three. Don’t blame me if you get too full!” Confident in her cooking, she added another steamer layer to heat six more buns.
While the adults chatted, Lin Fang busied herself writing couplets.
Lin Yuanmin disliked using ready-made bottled ink, feeling it lacked the proper spirit. Unless pressed for time, he always ground inksticks on an inkstone. Every door, tree, water vat, rice jar, cabinet, and even the cooking stove in their home would be adorned with auspicious scrolls, requiring considerable ink. Thus, Lin Fang had to grind more ink after writing a few scrolls.
Noticing the dwindling ink, Lin Fang planned to finish her current “fortune” character before grinding more. Without a word, Lin Guicheng’s companion stepped forward, took the inkstick, added water to the inkstone, and began grinding methodically.
“It’s not right to have a guest work,” Lin Fang said with a smile. “Please warm yourself by the fire—I can manage.”
The man remained silent, continuing his task as if he hadn’t heard, which struck Lin Fang as odd.
She glanced questioningly at Lin Guicheng—what kind of person was this, as unresponsive as a block of wood? Was he deaf and mute?
Catching her look, Lin Guicheng feigned sudden realization. “Ah, I forgot to introduce him. This is Sun Siyuan, my bodyguard. His nickname is ‘Wooden’—he’s a man of few words but far from stupid. You could say he’s both scholarly and martial, my right-hand man for many years. I brought him to oversee business here and gain experience.”
“Wooden”? The name fit perfectly. Lin Fang’s lips quirked. Anyone serving as right-hand to Lin Guicheng—who moved in both legal and underworld circles—was no pushover, likely the source of Sun Siyuan’s domineering aura.
She also caught another implication in Lin Guicheng’s words and asked curiously, “Uncle Cheng, are you planning to do business here?” If it were just for their small chili sauce operation, there’d be no need for a dedicated manager, let alone talk of “gaining experience.”
“Indeed. The land you instructed me to buy is all settled. Having bought land, one must put it to use, no?” Lin Guicheng seemed in good spirits.
Lin Fang laughed. “Now you’re teasing me, Uncle Cheng. You’re the boss—I’m just your employee. How could I possibly ‘instruct’ you?” Regardless of its purpose, the land purchase was bound to be profitable.
“Aren’t you curious how much land I bought for you? Or where?” This child was too composed—not as fun as when she was little and would at least pretend to be naive, Lin Guicheng thought regretfully. Though he knew Lin Fang’s soul had been an adult’s in her past life, he still couldn’t help treating her as a child.
Lin Yuanmin interjected, “However much or wherever it is, we must thank Boss Lin. Without you, we could never have managed it ourselves.” His gratitude was sincere.
Twelve thousand yuan could provide a comfortable living, but wasn’t much for establishing businesses. Moreover, without government connections or powerful backing, land purchases were nearly impossible in this era when such transactions remained heavily restricted.
Lin Guicheng dismissed his thanks. “Big brother, could you stop calling me ‘Boss’? You’re Lin, I’m Lin—I call you ‘big brother’ and ‘sister-in-law,’ yet you address me so formally. It breaks my heart. For the New Year, could you humor me and call me ‘little brother’ or just ‘Guicheng’?”
“Alright, your sister-in-law and I will call you Guicheng from now on. Having such a successful ‘little brother’ brings us honor!” Lin Yuanmin, never one for affectation, agreed readily, with Dong Huixin chiming in cheerfully.
Dreams fulfilled—though not with the original Lin Dalang couple—Lin Guicheng was visibly moved. He fumbled about his person for something to express his sincerity but found nothing suitable. Spotting Sun Siyuan grinding ink, he beckoned him over. “Wooden, come greet big brother and sister-in-law. From now on, their words carry the same weight as mine. Understood?”
“Yes. Greetings, big brother and sister-in-law.” Sun Siyuan bowed deeply to Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin, then fell silent again, his expression unchanged—truly living up to his nickname.
“No need for such formality among family,” Lin Yuanmin said. The scene somewhat resembled gangster underlings paying respects to their boss, but neither he nor Dong Huixin felt discomfort. They’d once employed many workers in wealthier times—now, with circumstances changed, they felt only mild nostalgia.
“Wow, Uncle Cheng, does this make me your niece now?” Lin Fang interjected dramatically, like watching a TV drama. “As my elder, shouldn’t you give me a gift for our first meeting?”
Finally showing some childishness—this was the Fang he knew! Lin Guicheng smiled. “What would you like? Name it, and I’ll move heaven and earth to get it for you.”
This stumped Lin Fang—she’d only been joking. Yet she sensed Lin Guicheng’s sincerity. The little smarty-pants caught off guard? Amused, Lin Guicheng asked, “No ideas? Then I’ll give you the bookstore. How’s that?”
“No, no—that’s too generous! She’s just a child—she couldn’t possibly accept,” Lin Yuanmin protested immediately.
The “bookstore” was naturally the antique book restoration shop. Lin Yuanmin had delivered items there for Lin Fang—from outside, it appeared to comprise three rooms, but extended deep inside, equivalent to six rooms. Though smaller than the state-owned Xinhua Bookstore across the street, its prime downtown location made it far more valuable than six village rooms.
“Big brother, it’s the New Year—indulge me, won’t you?” Lin Guicheng didn’t argue, but his tone carried such melancholy and resignation that everyone present felt it. Lin Yuanmin and Dong Huixin exchanged glances, momentarily speechless.
Lin Fang hadn’t expected such generosity either—a whole storefront! The profound sorrow in Lin Guicheng’s voice stirred her heart, making it ache in sympathy. Had she known its cause, the pain would have been sharper.
Lost in their own thoughts, only Sun Siyuan noticed Lin Fang’s distress. “Miss, are you alright?” he asked.
His question drew the others’ attention to Lin Fang’s pallor. Dong Huixin rushed over first, embracing her daughter with trembling voice: “Fang, what’s wrong? Heart pain?” Lin Yuanmin and Lin Guicheng crowded around, faces etched with worry.
Lin Fang knew it wasn’t an attack—just resonance with Lin Guicheng’s emotions. Forcing a smile, she said, “I’m fine—probably didn’t sleep enough. Don’t worry—a nap will fix it.”
Turning back to Lin Guicheng, she asked, “Uncle Cheng, since you’re giving me the bookstore, does that mean I can run it however I like?”
“Absolutely. Once it’s yours, you could tear it down for all I care,” Lin Guicheng said, eyes fixed on Lin Fang. He remembered her past-life comas lasting days—though she always recovered, the waiting had been agony.
“Perfect! I actually have some new ideas,” Lin Fang said cheerfully.
Her acceptance relieved Lin Guicheng—now, future plans would proceed smoothly.
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