Xiu Yi stood before the gates of that grand residence.
Not merely a house—but a Zhennang-style estate, with high curved roofs, small dragon carvings at every corner, and deep red wooden pillars that stood as if untouched by time.
Above the gate, a crest was carved—one he knew all too well.
Chamber of Trader 'Xiu Family.'
The scent of warm tea and fine spices drifted outward, slipping into his memory without permission. Something that once felt ordinary… now felt like a dream he had abandoned for far too long.
His hand rose.
Stopped.
Then knocked.
Tok. Tok. Tok.
Footsteps echoed from inside. Unhurried, yet clear.
The door opened.
And Xiu Yi's world froze.
A woman stood there—graceful, slightly older than he remembered, yet that face… it was impossible to forget.
"Xiu'er…?"
Her voice broke at the edge, like something long restrained had finally found release.
Xiu Yi didn't answer.
His mother pulled him into an embrace.
"Mother…?" his voice nearly vanished.
He stiffened. Unsure whether to return it or remain still.
"I searched for you… everywhere… I thought I had lost you forever…"
Her trembling hands brushed through his hair, as if confirming he wasn't an illusion.
Xiu Yi swallowed.
"Mother… I—"
"Why didn't you evacuate?! Why did you disappear like that?!"
It wasn't anger.
It was panic that arrived too late.
Before he could answer—
"?!"
A small, restrained gasp came from the staircase.
Xiu Yi turned.
A girl stood there, gripping the railing with trembling hands.
Her eyes glistened.
"…sister?"
Xiu Yue.
His half-sister.
Without hesitation, she ran down—nearly slipping on the last steps—and threw her arms around him.
"I thought you wouldn't come back!"
"You idiot! Why didn't you leave with us during the evacuation?!"
Her hands clenched against his back, as if afraid he would vanish again.
Xiu Yi froze for the second time that day.
"…you almost fell," he muttered reflexively.
Xiu Yue paused… then lightly hit his shoulder.
"That's what you say after years of being gone?!"
"…I'm still alive."
"That's not the point!"
Their mother laughed softly through her tears.
For the first time in a very long while—
the house sounded alive.
Another set of footsteps approached.
Heavier. Calmer.
A man stood at the entrance of the main hall, wearing a dark changshan—the traditional attire of Zhennang merchants—embroidered subtly with gold along the sleeves.
His gaze was sharp.
But not cold.
He crossed his arms, observing Xiu Yi in silence for a few seconds.
"So… this is the child who nearly brought my entire trade association to a halt for a week."
Xiu Yi frowned.
"…what?"
His mother exhaled softly. "Your stepfather ordered a search."
Xiu Yue added quickly, "He sent envoys to three regions at once! Even tea merchants were forced to gather information!"
The man cleared his throat. "Network efficiency is the core strength of the Chamber of Trader 'Xiu.' No one was 'forced.'"
Xiu Yue stared at him flatly. "They cried, Father."
"…a form of loyalty."
Silence.
Then—
Xiu Yi looked at him.
His stepfather.
Leader of the largest trade association in Zhennang.
The man stepped closer.
"My name remains the same as you remember. My position as well," he said calmly. "I won't force you to call me father."
He stopped in front of Xiu Yi.
But his voice softened.
"But this house… never stopped waiting for you."
Xiu Yi bit his lip.
The man continued,
"You may think we abandoned you. A reasonable assumption… if you only look at the outcome."
He let out a short breath.
"But a merchant never abandons a valuable asset."
Xiu Yue immediately protested, "Father! He's not merchandise!"
"…it's a metaphor."
"A bad one!"
Their mother lightly tapped Xiu Yue's forehead.
But Xiu Yi… lowered his head.
His eyes burned.
He had held it in all this time.
All the assumptions. All the loneliness. All the resentment he built just to survive.
And now—
it collapsed in the most inelegant way.
"I…" his voice cracked.
He tried again.
"I… came home."
The tears finally broke.
Not out of weakness.
But because… he no longer had to be strong alone.
His mother embraced him again.
Xiu Yue held him from the side.
And the man… remained standing there.
But this time, his arms were no longer crossed.
Elsewhere.
Hua Yan stood before her old home.
Her steps halted.
Everything felt… wrong.
The house was still there.
But it was no longer hers.
The paint had faded. The garden had grown wild. And the voices inside… were not ones she knew.
Her hand rose.
Knocked.
The door opened.
A middle-aged man appeared, his expression hardening the moment he saw her.
"What do you want?"
No warmth.
No recognition.
Only judgment.
Hua Yan swallowed.
"I… want to know… does the Hua family still live here?"
The man scoffed.
"The Hua family? They left long ago."
Silence.
"Probably died during the evacuation."
The words fell casually.
Without weight.
Without meaning to the one who spoke them.
But to Hua Yan—
her world collapsed.
"…what?"
Her steps faltered.
"Enough. Get lost!" the man shoved her roughly. "I don't have time for beggars!"
Her body nearly fell.
But she steadied herself.
Slowly… she lifted her face.
Her eyes had changed.
No longer a child returning home.
But someone who had lost the very idea of one.
"I hope you experience a loss… far more painful than mine."
The whisper slipped out before she realized it.
Cold wind passed through.
The man shivered.
But only scoffed and slammed the door shut.
Bam.
Hua Yan stood still for a few seconds.
Then turned away.
Her steps were heavy.
Without direction.
Until one name surfaced in her mind.
Her mother's relative.
The only possibility left.
With what little strength remained—
she walked.
Hoping…
that the world had not become entirely cruel.
There it is
Two children.
Two paths.
One found a home again.
The other… was still searching for one.