Chapter 56: Past Events (Fourth Update of the Fifth Day)

If it hadn’t been for the words of the Liu family’s Grand Matriarch, Liu Zhaohua’s grandmother, he would never have set aside his work to come to this small county town. Even the Prime Minister would greet the Liu family’s Grand Matriarch respectfully as “Auntie”; her word in the Liu family was as good as law. So Liu Zhaohua was compelled to come in person.

Once he received his answer, Liu Zhaohua didn’t linger. He had a meal at Song Nianqiang’s home and then departed; too many official duties awaited him for him to tarry any longer.

For the past seven days, Song Nianqiang did little else but eat and sleep. His soul’s wounds, it seemed, would heal with rest, so he would lie down and remain there all day. Each time his mother entered his room, she sighed and shook her head—Song Nianqiang was so much like his father had been.

She remembered meeting Song Nianqiang’s father in their final year of high school, just before the college entrance exams. Back then, he was just an ordinary young man. But on his twenty-second birthday, something extraordinary happened. Song Min was a year older than him, so by then they were already living together.

She recalled that night clearly—he had come to her in a hurry, spoke a stream of words she didn’t understand, and then left as quickly as he’d come. After that, there was no word from him. Soon, though, news reached her: Song Nianqiang’s father had died for his country. When she heard it, she fainted on the spot.

When she awoke, the hospital room was full—not only with her own family, but with the family of Song Nianqiang’s father as well. She was pregnant with his child—with Song Nianqiang.

After much discussion, a decision was made: she would give birth to the child, and it didn’t matter whose surname he followed. She was only twenty-three then, in the prime of her youth, and with her appearance it would have been easy to find a family far superior to the Liu’s. The Liu family didn’t want to hold her back, so they offered to raise the child themselves.

But after Song Nianqiang was born, Song Min refused everything—not just the Liu family’s help, but even her own family’s support. Strong-willed as she was, she raised Song Nianqiang entirely on her own.

When Song Nianqiang was three, a major event occurred. That night, thunder and lightning split the sky as his father, covered in blood, appeared at Song Min’s home, stunning her. But what happened next was even more astonishing: all manner of people emerged from the shadows, dressed in strange attire.

Most memorable was a squad of ancient soldiers, floating in the air. Only later did Song Min realize they were underworld soldiers from hell. That night was fated to be a night of bloodshed. Song Nianqiang’s father displayed fearsome power, slaughtering every foe that came his way.

Yet he was gravely wounded himself. He held Song Min tightly one last time, and then, before her eyes, rose into the air. He left her only a single, gentle promise: “One day, I will repay the feelings you have for me.”

From that point forward, the Liu family’s rise was unstoppable, and her own family also benefited. Yet Song Min declined the Liu family’s invitations and chose to remain in this small county town. Others might not know the real reason behind the Liu family’s rise, but she did. The Liu family had produced a prodigy the world sees only once in ten thousand years.

“Sigh! The path your father paved for you is arduous, but if you succeed, your future achievements may well surpass his—you could become a truly peerless figure, second only to one on this earth.” With these words, she closed Song Nianqiang’s door.

The September night was growing cool. Sitting in the courtyard, savoring the crispness of autumn, Song Nianqiang’s mother gazed up at the sky, lost in deep thought.

Her memories drifted back decades. She and Song Nianqiang’s father had just graduated from university, found simple jobs, and rented an unremarkable courtyard house for four hundred yuan a month—not expensive, but not cheap either. After work, they would eat dinner, then sit together in the yard, gazing at the stars. Song Nianqiang’s father was not a talkative man, so Song Min would chatter on beside him, and occasionally he might add a word or two.

Though summer nights brought swarms of mosquitoes, nothing could break their habit. Song Nianqiang’s father would fan away the mosquitoes for her, and she would naturally plant a kiss on his cheek, while he responded with a gentle smile.

Rainy days were his favorite. Bored, he would write poems—though now she couldn’t remember where any of them had gone. They would sit by the window, Song Nianqiang’s father embracing her from behind, both quietly watching the rain. Even Song Min, usually so lively, would grow serene in those moments.

That summer after the college entrance exams was their happiest. Both were still just children, neither from a wealthy family, but they managed to save enough to travel across much of Shandong Province. Their only regret was never visiting Mount Tai, the province’s iconic peak.

After a full day’s sleep, Song Nianqiang finally got up and went out into the courtyard. Seeing his mother sitting there alone, he felt a pang of sadness. He took a stool and sat beside her. His mother greeted him with a soft smile.

Having weathered so many upheavals, Song Min was now unshakable. “Mom, I want to know about my father. Why does everyone avoid the topic whenever I ask about him?” Gathering his courage, Song Nianqiang finally voiced the question that had been lodged in his heart for seventeen years.

“Do you think the stars in the sky are beautiful?”

Surprisingly, his mother did not answer directly, but instead pointed to the brightest star overhead and asked him. “Yes, they’re beautiful,” Song Nianqiang replied without hesitation.

“Yes, very beautiful—but are they as bright as the moon?” his mother pressed. “No,” he answered readily. “But—” He tried to add something, but she interrupted him.

“Most people’s eyes are drawn to the moon at first glance. Even the star closest to it is easily ignored. Your father was just one among the host of stars—ordinary and unassuming.” She lifted her gaze to the sky. At that moment, a star seemed to twinkle especially brightly, as if speaking to Song Nianqiang.

“But everyone seems afraid of my father! Whenever I mention him, they fall silent or simply refuse to answer!” This always frustrated Song Nianqiang—every time he tried to find out more, people evaded his questions.

She chuckled softly. “Silly child, it’s because your father’s light shone too brightly. As for what he’s doing now, I can’t tell you. Let me tell you instead about when your father and I were young.”

Much as Song Nianqiang yearned to know who his father truly was, if his mother would not tell him, there was nothing he could do.

“When your father was young, he wasn’t much of a student, but he was very stubborn. Like you, he didn’t enjoy studying, but he was good at fighting. I still remember when we first met—he’d had a few drinks with his friends and came back to school, where he ended up beating up five other boys.”

A genuine smile spread across his mother’s face. “When I was young, I had many admirers. It was a Saturday night. After leaving class, I was harassed by a group of boys—school bullies, really. One of them confessed to me, but I rejected him. Humiliated, they wouldn’t let me return to my dorm. Just then, he returned from drinking.”

Song Nianqiang’s mother always referred to his father as “he.” Whenever Song Nianqiang tried to ask his father's name, she refused to tell him, saying that if he wanted to know, he would have to earn it through his own accomplishments. Only when he succeeded would he learn his father’s true name.

“Your father couldn’t stand those thugs. He pulled me into his arms and waved them off with disdain. Of course, they wouldn’t back down, so the fight began.”