Going Home

Seeing the situation, Ye Qian nodded slightly. He knew that while this matter might not be exposed by the media, it didn't mean that the captain wouldn't tell the national security investigators. However, Ye Qian wasn't too worried about this. After all, the hijackers had destroyed the plane's cameras, so there was no footage of him. Based solely on the captain's and passengers' descriptions, it wouldn't be easy to find him.

Just outside the airport, Ye Qian saw an ambulance and a police car parked nearby. An elderly man was being moved from the ground to a stretcher by several nurses and placed into the ambulance. The man was groaning in pain, clearly seriously injured. Seeing the old man, Ye Qian felt a sense of familiarity. Nearby, a police officer was questioning a fat man in a suit — the same self-important man he had seen on the plane. The fat man was speaking to the police with a proud expression, and was soon taken into the police car.

Soon, Ye Qian heard people talking around him.

"Sigh, that old man is really unlucky. He found the fat man's wallet and tried to return it, but got beaten up for it. These days, it's hard to be a good person."

"Yeah, these days, nothing is more worthless than a life. That old man is just a scavenger; even if he were beaten to death, no one would seek justice for him. Did you see the fat man's clothes? All designer brands. There's no way a scavenger could fight back. He just had to take the beating."

Ye Qian frowned slightly, watching the fat man get into the police car, then hailed a taxi and headed home. If the police hadn't been involved, he would have given the fat man a good beating himself. But since the police were handling it, whether they would convict the fat man or not, it wasn't his place to interfere. Besides, Ye Qian was eager to get home. After all, he hadn't been back for eight years and didn't know if anything had changed, if his old man was still living there.

During the ride, Ye Qian's emotions fluctuated, feeling both eager and anxious like a child who had done something wrong.

The taxi finally stopped, and Ye Qian looked out the window. After eight years, the place seemed unchanged, still a rundown shantytown. Tall plane trees lined the dilapidated road, with occasional bird calls breaking the stillness of the rarely traveled area.

Ye Qian searched for the familiar house in his memory. The already decrepit little house looked even more rundown, as if it could collapse at any moment. The front door was half-open, the Spring Festival couplets on it slightly faded, the handwriting delicate and childlike, probably done by a girl.

Taking a deep breath, Ye Qian finally gathered the courage to walk towards the rundown house. He knocked on the door but got no response, so he walked in. The furnishings were the same as eight years ago, unchanged. The living room was simply furnished with only a Eight Immortals table and a few benches. A family photo on the counter showed an elderly man in shabby clothes surrounded by a group of young boys, his face full of kind and amiable smiles. Ye Qian couldn't help but tear up. Who said men don't cry? It's just that they haven't reached their saddest moment yet.

Hearing the sound of cooking from the kitchen, Ye Qian wiped his tears and walked in. A girl of about fifteen was busy cooking. Ye Qian knocked on the door, startling the girl.

"Dad..." The girl excitedly turned around, but seeing a stranger's face, she was slightly taken aback and swallowed her words. She looked at Ye Qian and asked, "Can I help you?"

Ye Qian looked at the girl, dressed simply but still unable to hide her beauty. "Is Dad home?" he asked gently.

"Second... Second Brother?" The girl was stunned for a while, finally recognizing Ye Qian from the photos the old man had shown her. Though his childishness had faded, replaced by maturity and determination, the girl had a deep impression of him because he was the person the old man often mentioned.

Ye Qian hadn't expected the girl to recognize him and was slightly taken aback. But thinking that the old man had probably mentioned him and there were photos of him at home, he felt a wave of emotion, almost bringing tears to his eyes again. He knew the old man had been thinking and worrying about him for the past eight years.

As the captain of the Wolf Fang Mercenaries, Ye Qian quickly suppressed his emotions. He smiled at the girl and asked, "You know me? What's your name?"

"Han Xue!" The girl, scrutinizing the man often mentioned by the old man, answered crisply. He looked scholarly, despite the scar on his face. He was very different from the mischievous Ye Qian the old man often spoke of.

"Is Dad not back yet?" Ye Qian asked.

"He should be back soon. Second Brother, why don't you sit and rest for a while?" Han Xue said, pouring tea for Ye Qian. He thanked her and took it naturally. Although he hadn't been back for eight years, this was still his home, so he didn't feel out of place.

As the old man hadn't returned yet, Ye Qian chatted with Han Xue. "How's Dad been these years?"

Han Xue nodded, "He's been well, but he's getting older and can't handle running around in all weather."

"No one else has come back to see him?" Ye Qian frowned, a hint of anger on his face. Although they weren't the old man's biological children, he had raised them all. The old man was their savior. How could they abandon him here alone?

"It's not that. Big Brother and Third Brother have all come back and wanted to take Dad to live with them, but he refused. He said nothing compares to his own place," Han Xue explained hastily.

Ye Qian nodded, understanding the old man's stubborn nature. He knew those guys weren't ungrateful.