When I was a child, it was always like this: home was wherever my parents were.

After growing up, home became just a ticket stub...

“Brother! Brother!”

Grace saw him spacing out and called up to him.

“Sit still!”

Ethan Sullivan held her in place and quickly tied her hair into little buns.

“Let’s go out to eat!”

“Okay!”

It was the siblings’ first time eating in Bianliang. Grace, riding on Ethan Sullivan’s back, pointed here and there—one moment this place looked good, the next she wanted to check out another.

Bianliang was bustling, with countless places to eat.

In the end, the two siblings just snacked along the way, and by the time they reached Zhouqiao, their bellies were already round and full.

By afternoon, Grace had fallen asleep on Ethan Sullivan’s back, so Ethan Sullivan had to lean forward slightly to keep her from tipping backward.

He stood by his own stove at home, watching a few yamen officers across the way keeping an eye on him.

This must have been arranged by Abraham Brooks.

This was the Northern Song version of man-to-man surveillance.

Ethan Sullivan shook his head, thinking that this kind of constant vigilance was a bit ridiculous.

He bought some more things, and after returning home, he started making something.

He was making a slingshot!

He slowly whittled a wooden fork with a small knife, and once it was ready, he tied on some sinew he’d just bought.

Standing in the courtyard, he held a small stone in his right hand, pulled back the slingshot, but felt it didn’t have much tension—not as good as the rubber bands he’d used in his previous life.

“Pop!”

The stone hit the wall. Ethan Sullivan walked over to take a look, nodded in satisfaction, and then went to get some clay used for making porcelain.

He mixed some metal scraps into the clay, then fired it simply—this was a stone pellet.

Early spring in Bianliang had nice weather, so Ethan Sullivan took Grace outside to look for birds.

“Pop!”

“Got it!”

A bird struggled and fell from a tree. Ethan Sullivan ran over to pick it up, with Grace cheering behind him.

And in Grace’s hand was a rope, with a little dog tied to the other end.

“Hua Hua...”

Grace tugged the rope, and the puppy whimpered and came over.

Grace squatted down, clumsily patted the puppy’s head, and said, “Hua Hua needs to be fierce.”

The puppy had a coat of black fur and looked quite pitiful.

But when Ethan Sullivan bought it a few days ago, the puppy’s mother was extremely fierce—even the dog’s owner didn’t dare mess with her. As for the father, no one knew what breed he was; even the owner didn’t know.

Ethan Sullivan bought the puppy to keep her company, so Grace was very happy, and she even named it herself.

She squatted there, the puppy sat beside her, and neither noticed that among the crowd at the front gate, two monks were glaring angrily at Ethan Sullivan.

Ethan Sullivan picked up the bird, looked up, and saw the monks’ fury.

He stared blankly at the signboard, then hurriedly scooped up Grace and the puppy and left.

This was Daxiangguo Temple!

Oh my god! I actually shot a bird right outside the gate of Daxiangguo Temple...

...

There was a new puppy behind the potsticker stall at the night market.

Grace sat in her own chair, with Hua Hua lying by her feet next to a small charcoal brazier.

Dozens of new potsticker stalls had sprung up in Bianliang, but everyone agreed that the best ones were still at Ethan Sullivan’s stall at the Zhouqiao night market.

Ethan Sullivan deftly made potstickers while Grace practiced calligraphy and tracing characters at the little table behind him.

The other vendors had finished for the night, and Ethan Sullivan finally had some peace and quiet again.

But now there were two more patrol officers across the way, making Ethan Sullivan feel that life was getting lively again.

Business wasn’t great tonight at the soup noodle stall to the left. The vendor, a bit envious of Ethan Sullivan’s business, muttered to himself and even curiously went over to watch Grace practice her writing.

“Tsk tsk! Ethan Sullivan, you can actually read? And you can teach others too? Then why are you running a stall at the night market? You could get a job as a teacher!”

Ethan Sullivan replied half-heartedly, and then the vendor suddenly changed the subject, saying mysteriously, “Today, the Liao envoy lost his temper at court. I heard the whole hall went dead silent, and those high officials just left the emperor there and pretended to be clueless.”

This gossip caught Ethan Sullivan off guard, so he asked, “How do you know about that?”

The vendor said proudly, “Nothing that happens at court can be kept from the people of Bianliang.”

Is even national affairs something people just gossip about?

Ethan Sullivan was speechless, and when he saw Abraham Brooks appear up ahead, he was even more at a loss.

Is this old man still not at ease with me, even at night?

Ethan Sullivan didn’t think he was that dangerous, so Abraham Brooks must have some business.

Get lost!

He muttered silently in his heart.

“Nice handwriting.”

Abraham Brooks walked over to Grace with an official’s stride, saw her clumsily tracing characters, nodded, and praised her a few times. But he also knew not to presume to be her teacher, so he didn’t point out any mistakes.

Ethan Sullivan ignored him, but Hua Hua stood up and barked at Abraham Brooks.

The little puppy’s childish barks made Abraham Brooks pause, then he laughed.

He walked over to the wary Ethan Sullivan and said, “Some say I’m a harsh official, but I have never imposed private punishments on anyone.”

Ethan Sullivan nodded, unwilling to argue with him.