Chapter Three: The Road Ahead

Qingshui Lake, a vast body of water winding through and encircling QS County, was bordered by countless villages and small towns. Linjia Bay was one of them.

The car slowly navigated the winding mountain road before finally entering this modest mountain village. Linjia Bay consisted of only ten or so households, so everyone was well acquainted with each other. The Lin family home lay deep within the village.

As they passed each house, there were always one or two elders sitting out front. Lin Lang would roll down the car window to greet them, and if he saw anyone smoking, he would offer a cigarette. The village elders all spoke highly of Lin Lang, the junior who had gone out into the world to open a restaurant and, over the past few years, made a good deal of money, yet never forgot his roots. The streetlights, cement roads, and basketball court in the village had all been built with Lin Lang leading the way and funding much of it himself.

Lin Lang’s parents had passed away early. The family was poor when he was a child, and there were five children to care for. Lin Lang was the second oldest, with an elder brother and three younger sisters. There were times when the family was so destitute they barely had anything to eat. Their grandparents were frail, but the five children were all diligent and intelligent, consistently achieving good grades in school. Unfortunately, the family couldn’t afford for all the children to continue their education. Nevertheless, the children were understanding and never blamed their parents. Lin Lang and his brother, as soon as they graduated from junior high, went to work to earn money.

Over the span of more than a decade, both Lin Lang and his brother had established their own businesses away from home, and the three sisters had started families of their own. However, Lin Nan’s grandparents had both passed away in recent years.

For this, Lin Lang often felt a deep self-reproach, even dreaming of them on special days. Why had his success come so late? Why hadn’t he been able to let his parents enjoy life a few years earlier? Their parents had toiled in the countryside all their lives, yet never lived to see their children fulfill their filial duties.

Parking the Santana in front of the family’s courtyard gate, the three of them got out and walked to the front door. The house had a red-tiled roof and walls clad in ceramic tiles—renovated with money from Lin Lang and his elder brother. In front of the house stood two massive, ancient trees, each so thick that it would take more than one person to encircle them. They rose over ten meters high, emblematic of a long life, witnesses to the family’s history in this place.

Lin Lang took out his keys and opened the simple security door. As soon as they entered, they saw layers of spiderwebs on the ceiling and thick dust covering the tables and chairs.

The house had been uninhabited for some time, and Lin Lang thought of doing a major cleaning, but not today. The New Year was more than a month away, and there would certainly be a thorough cleaning before then, when his siblings would return from all corners of the country to reunite for the Spring Festival.

Since Lin Nan’s grandmother had passed away following her husband, Lin Lang and his brother insisted that the whole family spend every New Year back in their home village. Sooner or later, the sisters would make their way back around the first day of the Lunar New Year, while Lin Lang and his brother’s families would always have New Year’s Eve dinner here.

With both elders gone, it was rare for a family’s siblings to remain so united and close.

Lin Lang and Ye Xinlan did a quick sweep of the kitchen and dining table, then brought in the food they’d prepared in the car to start making lunch.

Lin Nan was able to help a little, fetching bundles of dried straw from the threshing ground to use as firewood and starting a fire under the stove. Among the pampered younger generation, this was quite rare, but Lin Nan approached the task with enthusiasm. He had always been fond of playing with fire since he was small, and in such cold weather, warming his hands by the flames was a treat.

Of course, lighting a fire was a skill in itself.

As a child, Lin Nan would always add more and more firewood when starting the stove, the bigger the blaze, the more fun he had—until one day, distracted adults left the food to burn, and after that, Lin Nan was banned from tending the fire. But the mischievous Lin Nan was not to be deterred. He apologized to his aunts, then watched carefully from the side, memorizing the timing and heat control required for various dishes. Before long, Lin Nan became a master at controlling the flames.

Today they were cooking “Three Earthly Delights”—eggplant, string beans, and green peppers—a favorite of Lin Lang’s, which required a strong fire for braising. Lin Nan kept feeding the flames. The next dish was braised pork with radish, another of Lin Lang’s favorites, with white radishes freshly pulled from the backyard by Ye Xinlan, homegrown, fresh, and fragrant. This, too, needed slow simmering, the longer the better. Next came dry-fried shredded potatoes, Lin Nan’s favorite: potatoes, ginger slivers, scallion, dried chili, Sichuan pepper, salt, MSG... Lin Lang had made this countless times in his past life and knew the process by heart.

Finally, they made crispy rice porridge. First, rice was boiled until it bloomed, then Lin Lang quickly scooped it out into a bamboo sieve set over a ceramic basin, allowing the rich rice water to flow below—this rice water was the key ingredient for the porridge.

Simmering the rice was a technical task. Lin Lang placed the cooked rice back in the pot, fluffed it into a small mound with chopsticks, poked many holes, then poured in half a bowl of water evenly, covered it, and started the fire again.

The heat had to be just right: too high and the rice would burn, resulting in a bitter, blackened crust; too low and there would be no crust at all. In the past, when it came to this step, the aunts always took over from Lin Nan, tending the fire themselves. But after many lessons, Lin Nan had mastered the technique.

He found a soft bundle of straw, stuffed it into the stove chamber, and, taking advantage of the residual heat, blew hard until it ignited. Then, using the fire poker, he covered the burning straw with ash and pressed it down—this subdued the fierce flames.

After a while, the aroma of cooked rice filled the air. Lin Lang quickly dished out the rice, scooping it into the sieve. The bottom of the pot revealed a large, funnel-shaped crust. He gently scraped it out, crushed it, and added it to the warm rice water, boiling it quickly over high heat, then simmering it slowly over a gentle flame.

The three of them then sat down at the table to eat. The Three Earthly Delights, braised radish, and dry-fried potatoes were devoured with relish.

After more than half an hour, the fragrant, smooth crispy rice porridge was ready. Even before the lid was lifted, its aroma filled the kitchen and drifted all the way to the dining table in the living room.

Each of them had several bowls. Lin Nan and Ye Xinlan, with their smaller appetites, managed two and a half, while Lin Lang polished off five.

He deeply missed this taste of home; it had been twenty or thirty years since he’d eaten such authentic crispy rice porridge.

These rustic dishes were Lin Lang’s secret weapons at his restaurant in the county seat—the signature dishes. Even so, porridge made on an electric stove never matched the flavor of that from a wood-fired kitchen, yet even so, people in the county returned again and again, making Lin Lang’s restaurant business flourish.

After their meal, the family of three strolled down to a tributary of Qingshui Lake by Linjia Bay, resting on the grass under a familiar old tree.

Lin Lang and Ye Xinlan leaned together, while Lin Nan played by the water’s edge. Summer had long since faded, so swimming was out of the question.

The two adults showed no concern for Lin Nan’s safety—he had been swimming in Qingshui Lake with Lin Lang since he was small and was a strong swimmer. Even so, they kept a watchful eye on him, as parents always do.

Leaning against the tree with Ye Xinlan, Lin Lang felt completely at ease. At this moment, his thoughts from the previous night shifted.

Perhaps, with this second chance at life, he could reach heights unattainable before. Armed with endless business knowledge in his mind, his future was limitless. Besides, by now he already had several thriving restaurants in the county seat, profits were handsome, and he’d amassed considerable capital. In his early thirties, he was at the prime of his career.

In every aspect—mindset, connections, age, and capital—Lin Lang possessed excellent conditions.

Yet his previous life had not been lacking. Driven by guilt toward Lin Nan, Lin Lang had become a versatile teacher, mentoring countless outstanding students and apprentices, earning a high social status.

He also understood a truth: the greater the ability, the greater the responsibility. When a man builds his career from nothing, he is filled with hope and works hard; as his career grows, he is excited and passionate; but as it expands nationally or even globally, time becomes scarce, and his schedule overflows.

Every day is packed, every engagement arranged a week or a month in advance. Outwardly, he may seem glamorous—luxury cars, villas, a string of titles and honors, frequent appearances on television and at important events.

But behind the scenes, he might not be happy, nor free. Such a life may be the pinnacle of a man’s career, but it is not the pinnacle of family happiness.

Gently pulling Ye Xinlan into his arms, watching Lin Nan play by the lakeshore, under blue skies and white clouds, surrounded by green hills and clear water—it was beautiful and warm.

In this moment, Lin Lang gained a quiet insight.

In this life,

He would become a good father anew, helping Lin Nan grow up happy and excellent.

He would be a good husband, bringing happiness and romance to Xinlan.

He would continue to be a good teacher, nurturing more children to grow up well!

...

After a nap’s length of time, Lin Nan grew tired of playing. Alone, he soon felt bored and, at some point, wandered over to lie down beside his father.

In the past, Lin Nan would always snuggle up to his mother, but something about this half day together made him feel his father was somehow different, much warmer and less stern.

The family lingered another half hour before Lin Lang suddenly thought of something, smiled, stood up, brushed the grass from his clothes, and said to his wife and son, “Let’s go home and check if all the appliances are still working!”

On the way, Ye Xinlan parted ways with the father and son. Lin Lang asked her to visit a few of the village’s elderly widows and widowers. On ordinary days like this, most of the young people were away working, leaving only the elderly behind. Those with both husband and wife at home kept each other company, but those alone lived in true solitude. The children might bring them to the city, but they rarely adapted, so they spent their days in the village, sometimes visiting neighbors, but more often alone.

Thus, whenever Lin Lang returned, he made it a point to visit these elders who had watched him grow up, always treating them with respect.

When Lin Lang and Lin Nan reached home, they switched on the lights in every room and instantly discovered that one didn’t light up at all, and another flickered nonstop. Lin Lang thought to himself, indeed, things break when a house is left uninhabited—even though he’d only just replaced them last year.

Transforming again into a top-tier mentor, Lin Lang began another lesson: “Son, do you know why one of these lights won’t turn on, and the other keeps flickering?”