*"Because he is cruel enough."*
A blade of cold climbed Li Changhu's spine. His pupils dilated. Every hair on his body stood rigid.
Li Tongya laughed, shoving his brother's shoulder. "I'm joking."
"You little—" Li Changhu exhaled. "I'm going to handle Xiangping's wedding."
He straightened his clothes and strode out toward the Tian household. Li Tongya's smile vanished. He sat alone at the table.
"Father," he said.
Li Mutian stood on the stone steps, expression unreadable. He had been there the whole time.
The night before, Li Mutian had been sitting at the front gate, gazing at the moon, when he saw Xiangping storm toward the back mountain. Worried, he followed. Li Tongya, equally worried, had done the same. The two had met on the path, shared an awkward silence, and watched together as Xiangping killed the man and fed him to the beasts.
"Xiangping acted for the family's safety," Li Tongya said. "Father, there's no need for anger."
"Who's angry?!" Li Mutian's words came rough. "That idiot boy killed trash. I'd have done it myself! If he'd just threatened the man and let him go, I'da jumped down and finished the job. You're covering for your brother — don't think I don't see it."
Li Tongya sighed. "Elder Brother is kind-hearted. The villagers and tenants all respect him. He can preserve the household."
"Nonsense!" Li Mutian slammed the table. "They respect me! They gather around your brother because his rents are low! These people bow to power, not kindness. Look at him — I die tomorrow, and Li Yesheng will be at the gate throwing stones before my corpse is cold. Would Li Changhu have the stomach to kill him?"
Li Tongya lowered his head.
"Before, I wasn't afraid." Li Mutian's voice softened. "With you two brothers, Changhu's mercy was a virtue — kindness balanced by severity, a bright future. But now everything has changed. Our family carries a treasure worth annihilation. We walk on a blade's edge. If the one who holds the reins is not ruthless enough... it all falls apart. In a moment."
He drew a ragged breath. "And these past few days... I feel something coming. A killing wind."
---
Li Changhu finished arranging the wedding details at the Tian house and sat alone in the fields, his expression unreadable. He had walked the village but found no sign of Li Yesheng.
He remembered last night: Xiangping's low shout. Tongya's loaded words. Li Yesheng was dead. Xiangping had killed him.
A dull ache spread through his chest. He remembered when Yesheng and Tongya were small, toddling after him to the river to catch fish. Yesheng, holding up a big green carp, shouting: "Brother, brother, look!" Tongya, burning with envy but pretending not to care, pursing his lips and turning away. Afterward, the three of them standing at the riverbank, seeing who could piss highest, who could piss furthest.
Then his aunt died. His uncle fell to his sickbed. Within months, Yesheng changed — the boy Li Changhu had known was gone forever.
*"It shouldn't have come to this."*
His eyes grew wet. He had always believed he could persuade Yesheng. Guide him back. Protect young Yesheng. Give him a life.
"Changhu!"
He wiped his eyes and turned. An old farmer approached — weathered, dark-skinned, honest, wearing coarse homespun and loose trousers.
"Uncle Xu," Li Changhu said, rising. "How's your family's grain supply?"
"Enough, enough!" The old man's eyes welled up. His only son was bedridden, unable to work the fields. Li Changhu had cut his rent and sent grain. Without that help, they would not have survived.
He was an elder who had watched Li Changhu grow from a child. Now this boy — no, this man — had shown him more kindness than blood kin.
"Don't be polite," Li Changhu said. "Father told me to check on your fields personally. So here I am."
Uncle Xu smiled. He was old enough to see through the gesture — Li Changhu was giving his father credit — but the warmth behind it was real. "Give my thanks to the family head. The Xu household remembers this debt."
"There's no debt," Li Changhu said. "It's only right."
---
At the reed marsh, Li Xiangping approached the shore, a cloth bundle in hand.
Li Yesheng sat on the bank, counting on his fingers. "Day before yesterday, Third Uncle's house. Day before that, Eldest Uncle's. Fourth Uncle kicked me out yesterday. Today... wild greens and maybe a few shrimp from the river."
He stared at the reeds swaying in the wind. This place had raised him. Without its generosity, he would have died long ago.
"And Eldest Uncle's family," he murmured. Then he saw a figure pushing through the reeds.
"Brother Xiangping!" He scrambled to his feet. Ever since the main family built their high walls, Xiangping rarely came out. They said he was shut indoors, studying. Yesheng only saw him when he went to their house for meals.
Xiangping smiled and pulled a white steamed bun from his bundle. Yesheng grabbed it and tore into it, mumbling through the mouthful: "Brother's the best to me!"
They had always been close. Xiangping used to sneak food to him as a child. Li Mutian looked the other way — and Xiangping had brought quite a lot over the years.
"Here." Xiangping's expression was complicated as he pushed the bundle into Yesheng's hands. "These are my old reading primers. When you're with the ducks, look through them."
Yesheng's eyes glistened. He scooped up river water, carefully washed his hands, and accepted the bundle with both hands.
"In a few days, I'll talk to Father. You can study with the teacher when you're free. Any questions, come to us."
"I couldn't possibly—" Yesheng stammered, both eager and embarrassed. "And my brother won't pay the tuition. He won't give me anything."
Xiangping studied him for a moment. "You don't need to worry about that. I'll tell Father — consider the tuition paid."
He left Yesheng standing by the reeds, watching his retreating back. A strange awe crept over the boy. *Brother Xiangping... he looks exactly like Uncle Mutian now.*