When he dialed the number to his home, Henry Walker's expression was still in a state of confusion and daze. He could almost hear his own rapid heartbeat, and faintly, a trace of bitterness was hidden in the shadows of his heart. After so many years, hearing his mother's voice again—still full of deep affection, every word heavy with emotion, every sound unforgettable—that unbreakable bond of family would never be erased.

A good woman is like a school. A good woman uplifts a person, and things often go like this: when a man is exhausted, lost, in pain, or agitated, a good woman becomes gentler, calmer, more patient, and more willing to sacrifice. She can warm a man's heart, and at the same time, make up for his incompleteness and childishness. Thus, the man becomes more like a true man as he steps out into the world...

As a woman, his mother had undoubtedly fulfilled this role for his father. However, when it came to arrangements for their son, the two of them had unprecedented disagreements. From his mother's tone, Henry Walker could still sense that she remained deeply resentful about her son being transferred to this remote and impoverished place.

When he had just gotten through to his home, Henry Walker suddenly noticed that his mother's once gentle and kind voice now carried traces of hardship and age, and he felt as if his heart was being tightly gripped. Waves of pain surged through him, and his throat felt as if something was blocking it. His mother had grown old! Why had he never felt this so deeply before?

After hanging up the phone, "Mom!"—this cry, Henry Walker might have only shouted in his heart, weak and pitiful. He subconsciously rubbed his eyes, only to find them brimming with tears.

Standing up from his familiar yet unfamiliar chair, Henry Walker finally realized that it was already completely dark outside his office.

The Xihezi Township government compound was quite large, with three courtyards and fifty or sixty rooms—enough for nearly a hundred township officials to work in. In the government compound, although many people didn't take this Party Secretary seriously, the treatment due to a Party Secretary could not be lacking.

Henry Walker lived in a suite: the outer room was his office, and the inner room was his temporary living quarters. Although the two rooms were simply furnished, they were plain and tasteful, and quite comfortable to live in.

Feeling his stomach rumbling with hunger, Henry Walker picked up his keys and walked out of his office. Like other townships at the time, the Xihezi Township government had its own kitchen, and Henry Walker had been eating his meals there these past few days.

Thinking of the kitchen, Henry Walker looked up at the sky and frowned. The faces of the two cooks in the kitchen appeared in his mind. One was named Thomas Thompson, the younger brother-in-law of the township head Samuel Carter; the other was named Charles Brooks, whose connections were unknown.

When Henry Walker first arrived, these two treated him with a certain respect. However, as Henry Walker, inexperienced in worldly affairs, saw his prestige in the compound decline, these two—who would say whatever suited their audience—began to pay only lip service to Henry Walker as Party Secretary, no longer as warm as before.

Seeing that it was already late, Henry Walker figured that if he went to the kitchen now, he could probably get one of the two on duty to make him something to eat. But just thinking of their sarcastic expressions, Henry Walker lost his appetite and decided to go out to the street to find something to eat instead.

As the seat of the township government, Xihezi Township was really just a large village. In recent years, it was as if a fresh breeze had blown in: the east-west main street where the government was located had become lined with shops and bustling with merchants. On market days each month, it was especially crowded and lively, becoming the main hub for the flow of people, goods, and commerce in the township.

A few flickering neon lights adorned the entire east-west street, bringing vitality under the night sky and lending a touch of modernity to Xihezi Township.

During the day, the street was packed with people, but now, as if a gust of wind had swept through, the pedestrians had suddenly thinned out. Walking along the sparsely populated asphalt road, Henry Walker strolled and looked around at the shops, memories from years ago merging once again with his present self. Looking at this environment that had existed for more than twenty years, Henry Walker felt as if he had stepped into a painting.

Following his old memories, Henry Walker looked for a few restaurants, but they had all closed. With his stomach growling, Henry Walker was considering whether to buy some biscuits or something from a small shop to fill his stomach, when a small stall under a dim light appeared before him.

The stall was small, run by an old man in his sixties, with a traditional bowl-cut hairstyle and clothes washed spotlessly clean. It seemed that his wife was there to help with odd jobs.

There were only two tables in the shop. One was already occupied, and the other was empty. In the open space in front of the shop stood an iron tripod, supporting a large pot. No one knew what was cooking in the steaming pot, but wisps of fragrant steam were blown by the wind into Henry Walker's nose. Just the aroma alone was intoxicating! It made Henry Walker, already a bit hungry, even hungrier.

"Uncle, what do you have to eat?" Sitting down on a simple but very clean bench, Henry Walker asked.