Chapter One: Son, Gone

In the summer of 1989, the rain poured down in torrents.
Lu Kun sat on the threshold, puffing away at his water pipe, but his thoughts were far from the act.
His expression was dazed, with a trace of disbelief lurking deep in the corners of his eyes.
...
Bang!
“All you do is smoke, smoke, smoke. Is there anything else you’re good for besides smoking? …Oh, my poor child, how did you end up with a father like this!”
The woman inside the house, Liu Liping, was Lu Kun’s wife from his previous life.
Her wailing blended with the relentless drumming of rain, the heavy atmosphere pressing down upon the chest like a stone.
Lu Kun was twenty-three years old this year, but in this era of early marriages, he was already the father of three children.
He was a typical rural man, shaped by the times, carrying a certain preference for sons over daughters.
The first two children were girls; the third, at last, a boy. The eldest daughter was already seven, the second four, and the youngest boy had died just after his second birthday.
By rights, for someone like him—without parents or brothers to lean on, his only sister long married off, and himself wandering idly every day—finding a wife at a young age was close to impossible.
But Lu Kun had his ways. He whistled at pretty girls, flirted shamelessly, though his hands were always clean—never leaving evidence before others.
At just sixteen, Lu Kun had been loitering in the neighboring village when he saw Liu Liping carrying two buckets of water along the road—he was instantly struck by her beauty and hurried over, bent at the waist, to make her acquaintance.
“A persistent man wins the fair lady.” Lu Kun was thick-skinned, pursued Liu Liping for half a year, and everything fell into place.
The thrill of forbidden fruit was exhilarating, but it also sowed the seeds of endless bitterness.
Under Lu Kun’s coaxing and deception, Liu Liping nearly severed ties with her family and married him in defiance of their wishes.
Because of this, her family never truly accepted Lu Kun—always giving the cold shoulder to the young couple.
Lu Kun was tough as old leather. Outwardly, he didn’t mind; even if he simmered inside, he’d simply smile and, once home, sweet-talk his wife until Liu Liping was utterly bewildered.
Liu Liping was two years older than Lu Kun. When they married, he was sixteen, she eighteen—but as everyone knows, wisdom does not necessarily come with age.
So they muddled along, with Lu Kun’s silver tongue and ability to feign tenderness, convincing Liu Liping to endure seven or eight years of hardship with him, rarely complaining.
No one knew her husband better than his wife.

Liu Liping knew her man was easily led astray—unable to resist young, pretty women, spewing off-color jokes that made the girls blush and flee.
Yet, when it came to keeping her husband in line, Liu Liping was a natural.
...
Even a man made of iron would wither under such a life; Lu Kun grew thinner by the day in those wild years, never regaining his former vigor.
Liu Liping, on the other hand, was quietly proud—in private, she even boasted to the village women that she’d managed to cure Lu Kun of his flirtatious ways.
When Lu Kun heard about this, he was dumbfounded. No wonder she insisted on dragging him to bed, even when in pain, biting the corner of the quilt—her plan was to wear him out, so he’d have no energy left for other women.
Fortunately, after their son was born, Lu Kun’s health recovered somewhat over the next year or two.
But the little boy was frail, plagued by illness, never growing strong.
He held on for more than a year, then passed away.
To treat their son, the family was driven to utter destitution, borrowing from every relative and friend, drowning in debt.
After losing the boy, both parents were left hollow, their hearts ashen. Watching his wife weep day and night, Lu Kun’s own spirit was battered.
Tears streamed silently down his cheeks, falling onto the water pipe.
“Fate, you always prey on the weak...”
In his previous life, his wife had worn that same mournful face, her temper flaring endlessly. At his wit’s end, Lu Kun drove her and their two daughters back to her family and washed his hands of them.
She returned to her kin, knelt before her parents and brothers, secured a plot of land, and stubbornly raised the two girls on her own.
Years later, when Lu Kun finally made his fortune and came back, everything had changed. Both daughters were grown and married, with families of their own. The blood ties had, over time, thinned to tasteless water.
After her daughters came of age, Liu Liping remarried, and near fifty, bore a son who had nothing to do with Lu Kun.
As for Lu Kun, he drifted from one woman to another—no matter how many beauties surrounded him, by dawn, they were all strangers again.
Phones, designer handbags, a stack of crimson bills pressed beneath his pillow...
What a ridiculous era.
Tears welled up in his eyes, swirling more and more fiercely.
“Da-Ya, Er-Ya, go to your room and do your homework. Your father needs to talk to your mother. No matter what you hear, do not come out, do you understand?”

Lu Kun wiped his tears and shouted at his two daughters, who trembled and scurried off to their own room.
Bang!
Lu Kun’s face darkened. The girls had locked the door behind them, likely fearing he would vent his anger on them.
But without them in the way, Lu Kun could speak freely—perhaps it was for the best.
He strode to his wife’s door, took a deep breath, his right hand trembling as he pushed it open.
Before he could react, a glass bottle came hurtling toward his forehead.
Thunk!
He failed to dodge—the bottle struck him squarely, leaving a swollen, red lump.
“Hiss... You wretched woman, you’ve got some nerve.”
He cursed under his breath, but there was no real anger in his heart.
It was this very woman—she’d given him her love, and left an indelible mark in his soul, one that would never fade, not even in death.
At this moment, Lu Kun even felt a secret delight.
Time had not yet etched its lines upon her fair face, nor painted her hair with gray; her bright, black eyes still sparkled with life...
She was just as she had been all those years ago. Everything could still be salvaged! Everything could begin anew!
Seeing her husband’s red, tear-streaked eyes, Liu Liping was momentarily stunned.
Lu Kun, seizing her distraction, stepped forward, wrapped his arms around her waist, took two strides, and tossed her forcefully onto the bed.
Bang!
...
Lu Kun’s tears could no longer be held back. They streamed down his cheeks, falling onto his tanned, muscular chest.
“We’ll have a son again. Trust me. Trust me. Don’t be afraid… Everything can start over.”