Chapter One: Return to 1972

“Li Xiangyang, Li Xiangyang, what are you daydreaming about?”

A crisp voice rang by his ear, snapping Li Xiangyang out of his trance.

The next moment, he felt a slap on his face. When he opened his eyes again, he was greeted by the sight of a flawless, delicate face with a blush of red, and a glimpse of snowy white skin, so alluring that Li Xiangyang almost had a nosebleed.

At this moment, the two of them were huddled together among corn stalks buried under heavy snow.

All around was utter silence.

Their bodies were pressed close in the cramped, freezing space, so near that each could see the white puffs of breath from the other’s mouth and nose.

“Su Yan!”

Li Xiangyang’s heart jolted.

Hadn’t he just died on a hospital bed?

With confusion clouding his thoughts, he looked down at his body, and a shudder ran through him.

The dense pinpricks from needles were gone from his hands. Instead, his skin, though marked by a few chilblains, glowed with the strength of his youth beneath its wheat-colored hue.

He had unmistakably returned to the winter of 1972, to his long-lost hometown, Xiaoliang Village!

That era, which had brought him a lifetime of pain and regret!

It was in this very year that he met Su Yan, the educated youth sent down from the city.

Li Xiangyang was nineteen, Su Yan eighteen.

He had fallen for her beauty at first sight and pursued her relentlessly.

That summer, to help Su Yan sleep well, he had climbed the back hill to gather mugwort, burning it outside her house to drive away mosquitoes. He would always find new ways to bring her food, even giving her his entire monthly ration.

To improve Su Yan’s diet—since she hadn’t tasted meat—he even used the rations saved by his mother and younger sister as bait for hunting in the mountains. All the hard-won game ended up in the bellies of Su Yan and Wang Ming.

In those days, when everyone’s rations were strictly limited, Su Yan not only escaped malnutrition but even gained weight, thanks to the meat Li Xiangyang brought back from his hunts.

In stark contrast, Li Xiangyang’s mother and younger sister grew thinner by the day.

In his previous life, both his mother and sister, after prolonged malnutrition, fell ill with edema and eventually collapsed at home, never to open their eyes again.

Only then did he realize the magnitude of his stupidity.

As for Su Yan, the instigator, she tricked Li Xiangyang out of everything his family owned, then ran off with another male educated youth, Wang Ming, the night before her wedding to Li Xiangyang.

After that, Li Xiangyang’s heart was broken. He left his home and country behind, making a living as a hunter abroad, never to return until he died from his injuries.

...

“Li Xiangyang, are you stupid? I’ve called you so many times and you act like you didn’t hear me!”

Su Yan looked at Li Xiangyang in displeasure. She and Wang Ming hadn’t eaten meat in a long time, which was why she’d secretly called Li Xiangyang to the corn stack to ask about it.

In this era, many female educated youths would trade favors for food, but such exchanges were always conducted in private.

Although Su Yan was nominally Li Xiangyang’s girlfriend, their most intimate contact had only been holding hands in secret.

She had no intention of going further, since the man she truly liked was Wang Ming, who had come down to the countryside with her.

“It’s too cold, I haven’t caught anything yet. I’ll go out again tomorrow.”

But the reborn Li Xiangyang no longer trusted Su Yan’s words. He replied perfunctorily.

Even in his last life, when he had traveled the world, honing his hunting skills to perfection and taking down a lion single-handedly, he had never felt such excitement.

Because now, reborn, he had the chance to make up for all his regrets!

Su Yan’s expression instantly turned frosty. She tossed out, “Talk to me again when you’ve caught something,” and hurried away.

That was just like the Su Yan of his past life—if he hadn’t brought back game, her attitude would shift 180 degrees and she wouldn’t even speak to him.

Li Xiangyang poked his head out from the corn stalks and, watching Su Yan disappear in the moonlight, sneered inwardly.

I’ve been given a second chance—there’s no way I’ll indulge you again.

Want meat? You’ll just have to wait.

He strode quickly toward home.

Li Xiangyang’s house was on the northern edge of Xiaoliang Village, with a small yard flanked by his two uncles’ homes.

He opened the gate, and by the dim glow of moonlight and candlelight he saw the two familiar earthen rooms, the stone mill, wooden pitchfork, and the farm tools piled in the corners. He drew in a deep breath.

The biting cold filled his lungs, sharpening his senses.

This was no dream; he was truly back.

The Li family courtyard was small. His father had died in an accident when Li Xiangyang was eight.

Later, his uncles took advantage of the situation to claim a portion of their property, leaving the three of them in dire straits.

His mother had raised Li Xiangyang and his younger sister, Li Xiaohua, single-handedly, enduring untold hardships.

It was already seven in the evening, and the main room’s windows, covered with cowhide paper, glowed faintly yellow from the candle inside.

Xiaoliang Village lay on the edge of the Xing’an Mountains, where winter temperatures could drop to minus thirty degrees.

To keep the cold out, his mother would paste cowhide paper over the windows at night, rolling it up again during the day.

“Xiaohua, is that you?”

Hearing a noise in the yard, his mother called from the side room. Tears sprang to Li Xiangyang’s eyes.

When his mother came out, she saw Li Xiangyang standing in the courtyard, wiping his tears away. Her pale face showed sudden alarm.

“What’s wrong?”

Li Xiangyang had been fine when he left at noon—why was he crying now?

“It’s nothing, Mom. I just missed you so much,” he replied, his voice hoarse.

In his previous life, he had regretted countless times that if he had only cared more for his mother and sister, they wouldn’t have died of malnutrition.

That greeting carried the weight of decades of remorse.

“You silly boy, whatever are you crying for? Come inside quickly, I’ve made the bed nice and warm for you tonight,” his mother said, hurrying over to wipe his tears with her chapped hands.

“Mom!”

At that moment, the yard gate opened again. His younger sister, Li Xiaohua, rubbing her hands together and looking flushed with anger, called out,

“Mom! Second Uncle says we already owe too much grain and can’t borrow any more. Aunt won’t allow it either, so we’ll have to have millet porridge again tonight.”

Li Xiaohua was six years younger than Li Xiangyang, and at twelve, she was already helping their mother with the housework.

Compared to his former self, who only knew how to sneak food for himself, she was far more grown up.

“Xiaohua, your brother missed you too.”

Seeing his sister’s pale but still lively face, Li Xiangyang felt a sense of relief.

“Why are you back? Don’t you always eat with the educated youths? We don’t have any extra grain at home!” Xiaohua’s eyes were wary as she looked at her strange-acting brother.

Li Xiangyang’s heart twisted with guilt—her words revealed just what a scoundrel he’d been.

Yes, for some time he had taken all the grain allotted to him by the team and given it to the educated youths for Su Yan.

He ate all his meals with them.

His mother and sister, unable to earn much from labor, were given few work points and even less grain.

They’d only survived by borrowing food from all around.

At dinner, there was only a pot of thin millet porridge and a few pieces of pickled vegetables on the table.

“Tomorrow, I want to go into the mountains,” Li Xiangyang said to his mother after finishing a bowl of porridge.

“The mountains? Son, it’s too dangerous. Let me borrow some grain for you to bring to Comrade Jiang—you don’t have to go into the mountains,” his mother pleaded, setting down her bowl.

Winters in the Xing’an Mountains were perilous, not only because of tigers and leopards but also the extreme weather.

Every year, people seeking their livelihood froze to death in those mountains.

She assumed that Su Yan was short on food and had forced Li Xiangyang to go hunting.

“Oh, son, I know you like Comrade Jiang. Don’t worry about us at home,” she said, her only hope being that Li Xiangyang would settle down and carry on the family line, so as not to let her late husband down.

But Li Xiangyang knew their real situation all too well.

The last time the family had eaten meat was at New Year’s, when the team had specially allotted them a couple of ounces of fatty pork.

Since then, for a whole year, his mother and sister had had almost no meat at all.

That was why, by the third day of the new year, they died from edema.

Now, with a second chance, Li Xiangyang would never let that tragedy happen again.

After their meager supper, Li Xiangyang began searching through the side room.

His father’s hunting tools had long since been taken by his uncles, along with anything to ward off the cold, like dogskin leggings.

In the end, he found only a rusty machete.

After sharpening it as best he could, he found a coil of rope and some old wire left by his father that could be used to set traps in the mountains.

His mother then brought out a few of his father’s old coats to keep him warm.