The moment she got home, Li Luoyu put all the things she had bought inside the house, then hurried off to the kitchen to get busy.
Grandpa had been isolated for two days—he definitely hadn’t eaten well. Fortunately, her space was stocked with all kinds of ingredients.
Tonight, she’d stew a pot of ginseng spiritual spring chicken soup to nourish him, soak some wood ear mushrooms and stir-fry them with eggs, and make some Hakka-style stuffed tofu. The old man would surely like it. Oh right—she couldn’t forget the staple food; she’d better cook some rice too.
By the time night fell, Grandpa returned under the escort—though it felt more like an escort under guard—of two young soldiers. Overnight, his already graying hair had turned completely white, but his back remained as straight as ever. Li Luoyu poked her head out from the kitchen, her tone bright with delight:
“Oh! Old man, you’re back! Hungry? I cooked myself today! There’s a huge pot of chicken soup—can you smell it?”
Old Master Li had still been lost in his thoughts, but her shout startled him. Just as he was about to say something, she dragged him straight to the dining table.
On the table sat a steaming pot of ginseng chicken soup, a plate of wood ear scrambled eggs—fluffy like clouds—a neatly arranged plate of Hakka stuffed tofu, and two bowls of rice.
Hooking her arm through his, Li Luoyu lifted her chin proudly, looking smug. “I made all this. Pretty impressive, right?”
Without waiting for an answer, she shoved a ladle into his hand. “Hurry and taste it! I put in a whole small ginseng root and stewed it for three full hours!”
Then she picked up a piece of stuffed tofu and added, “And this—I specially asked an old granny for the recipe. It’s absolutely authentic!”
The old man’s throat bobbed. He scooped up a spoonful of soup. The fragrance of ginseng blended with the rich flavor of chicken spread across his tongue, warmth seeping into his stomach. It felt as though the hardship of the past two days had melted away all at once.
Resting her chin in her hands, Li Luoyu watched him closely. When she saw the moisture glistening at the corners of his eyes, she suddenly reached out and poked his shoulder.
“Crying doesn’t suit an old revolutionary!” She fished out a White Rabbit milk candy from her apron pocket. “Here—something sweet. Eat it, and no crying allowed.”
The old man’s carefully built-up emotions were instantly disrupted. He nearly choked, coughing as he shot her a glare. “You brat, what nonsense are you talking about? When would I ever cry?”
“Alright, alright, you’re the toughest,” Li Luoyu said, suppressing a laugh as she added more eggs to his bowl. Then she teased, “Hey, you’ve got the generation wrong. You’re not my ‘dad.’ My dad is Li Yanzhi.”
“You little rascal! Don’t mention him in front of me,” Old Master Li snorted. “If your father were still alive, I’d have beaten him with a shoe sole long ago.” He gulped down a full bowl of chicken soup in one go. “This soup tastes especially good today. Get me another bowl.”
When Li Yanzhi was young, he had been a notorious troublemaker. Every kid his age in the compound had been beaten by him. Climbing trees to steal bird eggs or catching fish in the river—those “ordinary” antics were beneath him. The things he did were each more outrageous than the last.
At twelve, he took advantage of a sentry shift change and dismantled a Type 56 semi-automatic rifle that had been leaning by the barracks door. The copper firing pin and magazine spring were scattered all over the bed, and he even seriously drew a “reassembly diagram” in his homework notebook. When he put it back together, he secretly stuffed a fruit candy into the rifle stock. The next day, when the sentry cleaned the gun, the candy wrapper fell out with a rustle—earning him twenty laps of punishment.
At fourteen, he somehow got his hands on a retired light tank. After tinkering with it alongside a few boys, they pushed it onto the main road. Passing military trucks were forced to honk nonstop, while he stood atop the tank with his hands on his hips, imitating a commander inspecting troops.
When Old Master Li rushed over with his guard, that little devil was tapping the tank barrel with a stick, shouting at the top of his lungs, “Right turn—fire!”
He had done countless things like that. Yet this unruly king of chaos had one fatal weakness—whenever Old Master Li stood at the doorway, swinging a belt in his hand, he would instantly jump down from the roof and stand neatly against the wall like a straight young poplar.
Though his eyes still sparkled with mischief.
Old Master Li never tolerated his provocations—the belt would land squarely on his backside, making him howl across the entire compound.
Without exaggeration, he had been the leading figure of his generation—and the old man’s pride.
“Once this period passes…” Li Luoyu said softly, “I’ll take you south to see the sea, just like you promised when I was little. We’ll ride the old green train, swaying all the way to the ends of the earth.”
The old man’s chopsticks paused. Suddenly, he tilted his head back and gulped down some cold tea. As his throat moved, Li Luoyu caught sight of something glimmering in the wrinkles at the corner of his eyes—but before she could look closely, he wiped it away with his sleeve.
“What does a kid like you know about the ends of the earth…”
“Hey, old man,” Li Luoyu tapped his enamel mug with a spoon, deliberately dragging out her tone, “back then at Lüshun Port, when you held me and we watched the warships, you said you’d take me to feel the South Sea breeze when I grew up.” She pulled out a fruit candy and slapped it into his rough palm. “People who break their promises get stuffed into a cannon and used for target practice!”
The old man stared at the candy wrapper, momentarily dazed, but didn’t let go. Moonlight streamed in through the window, weaving a silvery net across his deeply lined face.
“The waves of the South China Sea…” he suddenly said, his voice rough like sandpaper, “are wilder than those of the Bohai Sea. They can rock a warship like a leaf.”
“Not scared! In the future, I’ll build an aircraft carrier and take you out to ride the waves~” Li Luoyu waved her empty ladle, winking mischievously. “I’ll put the biggest searchlights on the deck, light up the South Sea’s coral reefs like crystal! Oh, and I’ll build you a cabin with portholes—so when you wake up, you’ll see dolphins chasing the carrier!”
Clang! The old man’s chopsticks tapped her head. “What nonsense are you spouting! You think an aircraft carrier is like an iron pot on your stove? You can just make one whenever you want?”
Li Luoyu clutched her head, wearing a “you just don’t get it” expression.
But many years later, when Old Master Li stood on the deck of an aircraft carrier and recalled this conversation, he lifted his head high with pride.
“My granddaughter built it!!! Hahaha—I’m proud!!!”