The sun had set, and faint voices drifted from afar—adults finishing their work and heading home.
Before long, Shūxīn saw several women walking toward the house. Among them were her mother, her grandmother, and her aunt from this life; the rest were neighboring women from nearby households.
Not far off, her mother, Yáng Yuè, chatting and laughing with other village women, spotted Shūxīn sitting at the doorway, propping her chin in her hands and staring into the distance. She hurried over, calling out as she walked:
“Xīn girl, why are you sitting at the door? Are you still feeling unwell?”
By the time she spoke, she had reached the doorway. She glanced Shūxīn over, left and right, and touched her forehead.
“I’m fine, Mom. I’m just waiting for you to come home.”
Hearing this, Yáng Yuè finally relaxed. She took Shūxīn’s hand and led her into the courtyard. From her pocket, she pulled out a handful of wild fruits and handed them all to Shūxīn. Seeing the little hands could not hold them all, she placed a few in Shūxīn’s palms and told her to tuck the rest in her clothes:
“Mom picked some wild fruits. Eat some for yourself, but save some for your brother and sister.”
Shūxīn’s eyes lit up as she held the fruits in both hands and mumbled her thanks. Yáng Yuè, seeing her respond, didn’t say more and went about her work.
Shūxīn carefully popped a fruit into her mouth. Mmm—it was delicious! She thought back to the last time she had eaten real fruit—half a year ago.
Fruit in the old world had never been so juicy, always shriveled and dry. Even then, fresh fruit was rare in the apocalypse, reserved only for a few strong survivors.
The sweet and sour taste made her mouth water uncontrollably. She could hardly contain it, constantly wiping while she ate, thinking: What a waste—my drool is falling!
After slowly savoring all the wild fruits her mother had given her, she felt gratitude once again. This place was heaven on earth! So beautiful—she vowed to cherish the blessings of this life, live well, and eat to her heart’s content.
Relishing the taste still lingering in her mouth, she headed toward the kitchen. From her fragmented memories, she knew the head of household for meals was her grandmother-in-law.
So it was important to get on Grandma’s good side if she wanted hearty meals in the future.
“Wait, a strong survivor from the apocalypse trying to please an old lady?” you might ask.
No problem. These were her own family; “pleasing” simply meant getting close to Grandma.
Inside the kitchen, Grandma Liú stirred a pot of corn and mixed grains with a large spoon. Aunt was chopping vegetables, and her mother, Yáng Yuè, tended the fire.
Grandma Liú saw little Shūxīn waddling in with short legs. She was busy, but spoke anyway:
“Go on, little girl. You’re not fully recovered—don’t get in the kitchen and make trouble. Go play outside. Your grandpa will be home soon; go see him.”
“Okay, Grandma!”
Shūxīn had not yet fully triumphed in this mission, but there was plenty of time. She spun around at the kitchen door and headed for the courtyard gate.
At this hour, most households were occupied, and the Liú family home was in the village center—very safe—so Grandma didn’t worry about a small child playing outside.
Dinner was approaching. Shūxīn wandered at the gate, planning to explore the new world with her older siblings tomorrow.
Just as she thought of them, they appeared: her cousins returning home. Cousin Shūlán carried a basket brimming with fresh wild vegetables. Eldest cousin Liú Jiànjūn carried a small bundle of firewood, while her brother Liú Jiànguó lugged a stack of pig fodder.
In this world, children didn’t just go out to play. Poor children had to help with household chores. While having fun, they also worked: gathering pig fodder, collecting firewood, picking wild vegetables—play and work combined.
Seeing Shūxīn spinning at the gate, Shūlán hurried over and took her hand:
“Xīnbao, were you good at home today? Still feeling unwell?”
As the only two girls at home, they often played together, so they were close.
“I was good, sis! I was so bored at home today. Can you take me with you tomorrow?”
Shūlán noticed how lively Shūxīn was—no longer listless from her previous illness—and nodded: “Sure! I’ll take you along.”
“You’re the best, sis! Quick, eat—these were given to me by Mom. I saved one for you, and also some for big brother and second brother.”
Shūxīn handed one of the fruits she had reserved to her cousin.
Shūlán didn’t hesitate, popping it into her mouth, then displayed their gathered produce.
“Big brothers found a nest of wild eggs today, about ten of them. We’ll have Grandma cook some for dinner—how about scrambled wild eggs tonight?”
“Yum! Yes, yes!”
Thinking of eggs, Shūxīn eagerly nodded. Children loved eggs—it was a treat.
At that moment, her brothers arrived. Shūxīn quickly handed them some fruits. Her brother tousled her hair, teasing her:
“You little glutton! Lucky tonight—we found a nest of wild eggs. Too bad the wild hen got away, or we could have had chicken!”
Hearing this, Shūxīn quickly wiped her mouth, thinking: What a shame! Next time it won’t escape—it’s mine for nourishment. I’m still a little one; I need to grow strong.
“Enough chatter! What’s all the noise?” Grandpa, uncle, and her father approached, each carrying bundles of firewood.
Seeing her father, Shūxīn was thrilled, even though she had seen him in past memories.
Her father resembled the original dad six parts out of ten: thick eyebrows, large eyes, sun-darkened skin from labor, the honest appearance of a hardworking rural man.
In truth, the original dad and her apocalypse dad shared only about sixty percent similarity—the apocalypse dad had developed a fierce aura and bore a deep scar on his face, a mark from a mission in her childhood. A person’s temperament could change their appearance.
The original dad’s honest, gentle demeanor was vastly different from her apocalypse dad’s ferocity. Still, the resemblance was enough for Shūxīn to quickly accept this family. Same surname, similar names, two fathers not too different—it felt meant to be.
Seeing her dazed expression, her father gently touched her head and asked worriedly:
“Girl, what’s wrong? Your cold isn’t fully gone? Why the daze?”
Seeing his concern, Shūxīn hurriedly replied:
“Dad, I’m fine! I just missed you!”
“Ha! Dad missed you too.”
He held Shūxīn’s little hand, walking toward the Liú household.
Gripping her father’s hand, Shūxīn was overjoyed. In this strange time and space, having a familiar person was comforting—especially her own father.
Hopping and skipping, she called out to those following behind:
“Grandpa, Uncle, hurry home! Grandma made something delicious! Big brothers even found wild eggs! Go home and let Grandma cook!”
Her mouth watered just talking.
“Here, here! You little glutton, wipe your drool—it’s running onto the doorstep! Haha!” her uncle laughed.
“Not at all, it’s almost forming a puddle!” Grandpa teased.
“Grandpa and Uncle are naughty! It’s not a puddle yet!” Shūxīn said, childishly.
The family laughed together, walking into the courtyard. The sunset cast warm light across the trees, forming mottled patterns—a perfect, cozy backdrop for this heartwarming scene.