Maybe it was the care of the orphan god, but after three months in this world, neither of them had fallen ill, especially Henry Clark. After three months of chopping firewood, he was now no different from the sturdy young men of the Cang family, and his fluent local accent made Old Patriarch very satisfied. In his eyes, this meant he was already a child of the village.

Winter rain was truly miserable; the simple bamboo house was completely unable to keep out the damp air. No matter how fiercely Henry Clark stoked the fire pit, it was of no use.

The little yellow dog burrowed into Jack Clark’s quilt. Hugging the puppy might make things a bit warmer. The dog had grown a lot and was now a half-grown yellow dog. Although it was just a mutt, it was Jack Clark’s lifeblood. The Yun family had only two people, Clark the First and Clark the Second; that’s how the villagers referred to the Yun brothers. Naturally, the little yellow dog became Clark the Third.

“Jack, wrap the quilt tighter, don’t let the wind in. If you feel sleepy, just take a nap. We can’t do anything today,” Henry Clark put down the book in his hand and said softly.

The clay pot hanging over the fire pit started to make noise; the ginger tea Henry Clark was boiling was finally ready. He poured a little into Jack’s bowl. Seeing that he still frowned and refused to drink, Henry Clark shook his head, went to the wall, cut off a small piece of honeycomb from a hook, and soaked it in Jack’s bowl. There was honey in it, and with honey, the ginger tea wouldn’t taste so bitter.

This was a gift from nature, as Henry Clark well knew. For that honeycomb, he’d been stung on the back by hornets, swelling up two egg-sized lumps that only went down after three days.

By this time next year, he must build a mud-brick house. Although mud-brick houses couldn’t withstand heavy rain, Henry Clark still planned to do it. The bamboo house really wasn’t suitable for the brothers to live in.

Henry Clark poured out a money pouch from a thick bamboo tube. He didn’t even need to count; he knew there were 131 copper coins inside. He took them out for a look, then stuffed them back in and plugged the tube.

“Big brother, when we came here, we had nothing, but I remember you still have a cell phone. If you sell it, we’ll have money for a house.”

“Don’t even think about it. I smashed the phone, only kept a phone charm. That phone charm is worth some money, but we can’t touch it. I kept it for you—if you ever get sick, I’ll use it to get money for your treatment. Don’t worry, next year I’ll definitely earn enough to build us a house. Maybe it’ll even be a blue-brick, big-tile house.

We’ll build a big heated bed inside, and in winter we’ll keep it nice and warm. Let me tell you, a heated bed is way better than a radiator. We’ll put a little red clay stove on the bed table, stew a pot of pickled cabbage and pork, and eat it all together—meat and soup—it’ll be amazing.”

Jack Clark drooled and grinned foolishly, as if he could already see such days. Henry Clark fondly patted his head, then picked up his book and continued reading.

Suddenly, the little yellow dog’s ears perked up. Henry Clark glanced at the dog, pushed open the door with his book in hand, and looked outside. The drizzle was still falling endlessly, and the village seemed shrouded in a blue mist. Suddenly, a group of government officers emerged from the mist. Henry Clark found it quite amusing. The leader rode a horse barely bigger than a donkey, his feet nearly touching the ground, yet he still puffed out his chest and shouted loudly, “Old Man Reed, you old dog, listen up! The authorities are strengthening the defense of Dousha Pass. Every household must send a strong man. If there’s one less, we’ll take you, old dog, instead.”

Old Reed came out of the bamboo house with a smile, cupped his hands, and said, “Chief Foster, what wind blew you here? Come on up, have a couple bowls of light wine to warm up. Having to work in this weather is really a hardship.”

Chief Foster swung his leg off the horse, handed his whip to a yamen runner, and grumbling, followed Old Reed upstairs. Henry Clark put down his book, told Jack Clark to keep himself warm, and said he’d be back soon.

Old Reed had said before that whenever officials came, he had to go over and keep them company. Henry Clark went up to Old Reed’s bamboo house and saw Ethan Reed and his Little Mouse huddled in a corner, and three women hiding in the inner room, not daring to come out. Only Old Reed was there, keeping the five officers company by the fire, drinking wine.

When Old Reed saw Henry Clark come up, he quickly grabbed his hand and said to Chief Foster, “Look, this is the treasure of our village. He’s been studying with a teacher outside for years, and this year he’s going to take the county exam, so he just came home. Look at him, he’s a scholar, thin and weak. In this cold, damp weather, he can’t handle hard labor. Please, be merciful and spare this child.”

Hearing Old Reed’s words, Henry Clark stepped forward, cupped his hands to Chief Foster, and said, “I appreciate the elder’s kindness, but it is the law of the land that every household must provide a laborer. Grandpa, you’re making things difficult for Chief Foster.”

Chief Foster looked at Henry Clark with interest. He noticed that this child had a composure that others lacked. Even when facing the hardship of forced labor in the cold winter, he still spoke with dignity and confidence. Though his words had a hint of challenge, he didn’t cross the line. Damn, scholars always talk like this.