Chapter Thirteen: Call Me Donkey Brother

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Lu Bao’s provocation finally angered Yana Li. Her willowy brows arched, and a murderous glint flashed in her jewel-bright eyes. Seeing this, Lu Bao’s bravado wavered, but he kept up his tough talk: “Don’t act all high and mighty with me! Do you know who my brother is? If I told you, you’d wet yourself. Ever heard of Lu Hu? No? Go ask around!”

Damn, is my reputation really that widespread now? Even street punks use my name to scare people. A strange feeling welled up in Lu Hu’s heart.

Yana Li’s cold and proud gaze softened instantly, melting into overflowing tenderness and affection. She didn’t understand the language of the Central Plains, but the words “Lu Hu” were unmistakable to her. Besides, the two brothers shared certain similarities in their features.

Lu Bao, believing she was frightened, swung the stone in his hand and hurled it at her, barking out commands at the same time: “Boys, get in here! Let’s beat him up!”

Yana Li pulled the half-grown boy aside and dodged swiftly. Lu Bao missed his target, and with too much momentum, tumbled to the ground face-first, eating a mouthful of snow and dirt. The other boys didn’t dare lift a finger.

Spitting out the clumps of earth, Lu Bao tried to scramble up, only to find himself suddenly hoisted into the air by the scruff of his neck.

“Damn you, you son of a— I’ll fight you to the— Wait, what the—”

Just like a boiled duck whose mouth never softens, Lu Bao abruptly fell silent. He blinked, rubbed his eyes hard, and then looked again. Sure enough, facing him with an amused smile was none other than his own elder brother.

“Damn, Big Yeller, when did you get here? Why didn’t you tell me?” All his life, Lu Bao had never called his brother “big brother” to his face, but had always used his childhood nickname, just as their mother did.

Lu Hu had been a notorious crier since he was a child—the kind that could shake the heavens—much to their mother’s exasperation, who had dubbed him Big Yeller Donkey. The name stuck, and Lu Bao, since learning to speak, had always called him that, never finding it odd.

He swept his gaze proudly over the other half-grown boys, eyes full of arrogance and boasting. “Come here, come here! Pay your respects—this is my brother, Big Yeller Donkey!”

The boys all bowed in unison, “Greetings, Big Brother! Hello, Brother Donkey!”

Lu Hu nodded stiffly, barely acknowledging them. Seeing his brother’s displeasure, Lu Bao quickly tried to smooth things over. “You all can leave now.”

He spoke with an air of superiority, then jabbed a finger at the child beside Yana Li, his face fierce and voice brash: “Little Bo, get lost! If you don’t pay your dues tomorrow, watch out or I’ll break your legs!”

The boy took off running.

Collecting protection money? Is this boy already mixing with the underworld? Do his parents know what he’s up to? Should I tell them? What am I supposed to do?

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Lu Hu was at a loss, while Lu Bao sidled up to Yana Li with a cheeky grin and took off her helmet. “How come your little sidekick is prettier than most girls? But I’ll admit, the kid’s got some moves—knocked down my best fighter like it was nothing. I swear—”

A waterfall of shining hair tumbled loose as Yana Li’s helmet came off.

“Whoa, Big Yeller Donkey, this is wild! Where did you pick up such a beautiful girl? Hey now, wait a minute—this little beauty must be your wife, right?”

He reached out as if to touch Yana Li’s cheek, then suddenly realized and jerked his hand back. “Sister-in-law! Hello, Sister-in-law! Don’t let the rats bite you—Big Yeller Donkey will wash your stinky feet every day!”

Yana Li, not understanding a word of his babbling, smiled gracefully, lips parting as if to speak, but ultimately just nodded slightly.

Where does he learn all this nonsense…

“Lead the way home,” Lu Hu said, barely containing his anger. After all, it was their first meeting in a long time; he couldn’t just smack his brother or kick him out. He decided to see how their parents handled things first.

Lu Bao clapped the helmet onto his own head, stuck his neck out, and swaggered ahead like a little tyrant, leading the way with exaggerated bravado.

The residences for lower and mid-ranking officials in Dasheng were all built to the same layout: a single building of blue bricks and red tiles housed three families, each with a front yard and a rear garden, separated by low walls barely the height of a person. This allowed for easy communication—and, of course, convenient mutual supervision.

Military families all had stables in their yards, and each household tended their own warhorses. Every yard had a small shed piled with fodder. Behind the house, every family kept a vegetable garden, with no clear boundaries between plots. In spring, everyone planted together; come autumn, they harvested freely. The neighborhood was harmonious and close-knit.

The wooden gate was crudely fashioned from split logs, unpainted but sturdy.

At the gate, Lu Bao jerked his head to indicate they’d arrived, then kicked the door open and scampered inside to announce their arrival.

Their father’s mottled horse was in the stable, munching leisurely on fodder. At the commotion, it turned its head lazily, snorted, and kept chewing.

Their father appeared in the doorway, his right arm in a white sling across his chest and stomach, the wrist already stained dark purple by blood. His face was pale and haggard with exhaustion. Supporting him was Lu Song’s youngest daughter, Lu Li, her eyes full of sorrow and helplessness.

As soon as Lu Hu and Yana Li stepped into the yard, they both dropped to their knees and began kowtowing.

“Father, Father…!” Yana Li burst into sobs, while Lu Hu’s face streamed with tears.

Lu Song staggered over, bent down, and tried to pull Yana Li up with his left hand. “Good child, don’t cry. Get up quickly. Swords and knives have no eyes—your uncle doesn’t blame you. Get up, come on.”

Yana Li only cried harder, her grief and remorse pouring out without restraint.

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Unable to pull her to her feet, Lu Song released her and kicked his son. “You little rascal! Can’t you see she’s upset? Do something, talk to her, don’t let her cry herself sick!”

Choking with emotion, Lu Hu embraced Yana Li. Her forehead was already red and swollen from kowtowing, with a trickle of blood oozing out. Little sister Lu Li could only stand by weeping as well.

Lu Bao burst out of the house and shouted at the neighbors who had come to watch the commotion: “What are you all staring at, you bunch of busybodies? Nothing to see here! If you don’t go, I’ll gouge your eyes out! Get lost—all of you, get lost!”

He shot a contemptuous glance at Yana Li and Lu Hu. “Quit bawling already, will you? Wailing in the courtyard like you’re at a funeral—making us the neighborhood laughingstock.”

Thin as a plucked chicken, all skinny arms and legs, the boy radiated a wild, almost sinister energy—like a little demon. The neighbors quietly retreated indoors, whether out of fear or simply unwillingness to argue.

Lu Hu pulled Yana Li to her feet and followed their father into the house.

No sooner had they crossed the threshold than a chill filled the air.

Sun Guiying sat in the main hall, leaning on a rosewood chair, her face as cold as ice and her eyes brimming with resentment. She was silent and statue-like.

Lu Hu shivered, knelt with Yana Li, and stammered, “Your son greets you, Mother. I hope you’ve been well.”

Sun Guiying snorted coldly. “Enough. I’m fine—better luck than your father, at least, who didn’t end up in charge.”

Her words cut like knives, yet she didn’t spare the kneeling pair so much as a glance.

The hall fell silent, so quiet a pin drop could be heard.

At length, Yana Li could not stifle a sob.

The atmosphere was excruciatingly awkward. Lu Song, unable to bear it, tiptoed over to Sun Guiying and, bowing his head, whispered, “Come now, let the children get up…”

Sun Guiying cut him off impatiently. “Is this your concern? Go rest in your room. Li Li, what are you standing there for? Help your father to bed.”

Father and daughter, long accustomed to her authority, obeyed at once and retired to the east wing.

Suddenly, Yana Li rose without a word or glance at Sun Guiying, gently supporting her father as she followed him into the room.

Oh no, this girl is stubborn—she doesn’t know how to read the room. Who’s really in charge here? Isn’t it obvious? If you don’t show proper respect, there’s no way you’ll get away unscathed. Is she trying to rebel? That may feel good for a moment, but it never ends well.

Lu Hu was seized with anxiety, but could think of nothing to do.