The aftereffects of a poor night’s sleep meant that when Xing Yue saw so many people at the gate early that morning, after a moment of shock, his mind went blank, and he thought he was still dreaming.

The dense crowd at the courtyard gate, chatting animatedly while eating from their bowls, looked up in unison at the sound of the door opening.

Some had bowls of porridge, others held flatbreads, and still others were stuffing pickles into their mouths. The moment they saw him emerge, their chewing stopped, and all eyes turned to him.

The air was completely still for three full breaths. Then—

“Oh my, is this the exiled man, Brother Heng’s husband?”

The crowd suddenly erupted.

“He’s got a face, all right—and a nose, too.”

“Exactly. I was so scared I thought he’d have three heads and six arms.”

“You people are impossible to reason with. Everyone has a face and a nose—are you all some kind of supernatural creatures?”

As soon as the words were out, the crowd didn’t take offense but burst into uproarious laughter.

One by one, women in their twenties, thirties, and forties—chewing their food and holding their bowls—bent over double, mouths agape, laughing heartily.

Xing Yue：“……”

He rubbed his eyes, then squinted.

He finally confirmed it: the entrance to his home was indeed surrounded by a group of unfamiliar women. He couldn’t make out what they were saying or laughing about.

But judging by their expressions, he found it a bit hard to make sense of.

“Big Brother,” came Xing Zhao’s drowsy voice from inside the room. “I need to pee.”

“Okay, I’m coming.” Xing Yue glanced at the commotion outside, suppressing the strange feeling of being scrutinized, and turned to go back inside. In the dim light of the room, Xing Zhao stood by the bed, small and frail, his eyes closed as he haphazardly pulled his clothes on.

His clothes—after Xing Yue had given them a good shake last night—had dislodged so much dust that it nearly buried the whole room—it was like a mini sandstorm. Xing Yue had intended to teach him not to sit or play on the ground, but upon reflection, he felt it might be a bit too much to ask of a child. 

As an adult, he felt dizzy and lightheaded after just a few minutes of crouching there; how could he expect children to play there for a while without touching the ground?

In this era, dust, sand, and dirt were everywhere. It wasn’t like the modern world with its asphalt, concrete, and marble surfaces, where children had play mats, grass carpets, or at the very least, all sorts of plastic chairs, folding chairs, wooden chairs, and sofas—or even ride-on toys like rocking cars, balance bikes, and toy trains—allowing them to play in relatively clean environments without ever touching the ground.

In this era, in this place, the most common seating in people’s homes is the large, mud-brick bed. Children can jump and bounce on it, but they can’t stay there all the time. When they go to play elsewhere, you can’t very well carry that mud-brick bed along behind them so they can sit on it whenever and wherever they please.

Getting filthy was, it seemed, inevitable.

Once Xing Yue had thought this through, he gave up on trying to teach the boy to avoid getting dirty. Instead, he simply instructed him to wash his hands, feet, and face before going to bed, to take off his dirty outer clothes before getting into bed, and to get dressed on the floor rather than on the bed.

That way, at the very least, he wouldn’t leave dirt everywhere, and once he came back, it would lighten Brother Heng’s load of cleaning up after him.

Though Xing Zhao was still very young and looked innocent and naive, he was actually very obedient. Whatever he was taught, he followed through without a trace of the mischief found in other children.

Watching him, Xing Yue couldn’t help but wonder: What kind of person was his mother? What kind of person was his father? What were his brothers and sisters originally like? What kind of family had he been born into that could have raised a child with such a disposition…

“Big Brother, could you help me tuck in my shirt, please?” Xing Zhao had pulled his pullover over his head, but the straps of his overalls hadn’t made it up to his shoulders yet. He pleaded in a babyish voice.

He rubbed his eyes. His bleary eyes opened, and though he still looked a bit dazed, the sleepiness seemed to have vanished. Xing Yue patted him on the head. “Go pee in the sheep pen first. When you come back, Big Brother will help you get dressed.”

“Alright.” Xing Zhao yawned, clutching his pants, and waddled out like a little duckling. But before long, a shriek rang out from outside: “Big Brother, there are so many strangers out here!”

It turned out that after Xing Zhao had finished peeing in a daze and was walking back with his pants in hand, he suddenly locked eyes with a crowd of people at the door. The people outside were dumbfounded, and he was startled.

Before he could even get a good look at them, he bolted back into the house, throwing himself onto Xing Yue’s lap, his voice trembling with fear: “Big Brother, I’m scared! Are they here to arrest us?”

Inside the house, perhaps roused by Xing Zhao’s commotion, Jiu-ger grunted and opened his eyes. He yanked back the covers, sat up abruptly, and scanned his surroundings. Realizing he was in an unfamiliar place, he let out a wail: “Mama…”

Xing Yue：“……”

He already had a premonition of what was about to happen.

Xing Yue’s nerves instantly tensed. He quickly scooped up Xing Zhao, slipped the suspenders of his pants over his shoulders, patted his back, and reassured him urgently, “No, they’re not here to take us away. Don’t be afraid.”

He immediately waved at Jiu-ger, gesturing for him to look his way, then pointed to Xing Zhao in his arms and Qingguo, who was fast asleep on the bed, and said as gently as he could, “Don’t cry. We’re at home.”

Jiu-ger clutched his blanket, staring blankly at him, tears streaming down his face as he looked on the verge of tears: “I miss my mother!”

As he spoke, tears streamed down his face, and he burst into loud sobs. Xing Yue: “……”

He now fully understood the hardships Qingheng and Lady Wang had gone through, and he admired them to the utmost. How on earth did they manage to deal with those alien-like brats!

Come to think of it, they’re not just aliens—they’re demons.

Bastards straight from a demon planet!

Why is it that when others time-travel, they’re faced with grand schemes and the fate of the world, while he’s stuck dealing with shit, piss, and these demonic-looking brats right in front of him?

Was this his punishment for being out of touch with reality? Oh God!

Xing Yue felt like closing his eyes and just passing out. But damn it, his body was getting stronger by the day. When he woke up this morning, he wasn’t even dizzy!

What terrible timing for an illness.

Xing Yue closed his eyes, fantasizing for the umpteenth time about the bliss of passing out, but he remained standing tall. With a blank expression, he bent down, cradling Xing Zhao in one arm while wiping away Jiu-ger’s tears with the other: “Mommy will be back soon.”

Then he scooped up Qingguo, who was lying with his eyes closed, his little mouth open, and had started to whimper softly: “Good boy, don’t cry. Daddy will be back soon.” He didn’t care if they could understand him; his mind was a fog, and he mechanically opened his mouth, uttering words he didn’t even know if they’d help.

“Huh.” Fortunately, after wailing a couple of times, Jiu-ger stopped on his own. He sniffed the air, then stared curiously at Qingguo’s bottom, pointed at it, and exclaimed, “It smells stinky. Did Guoguo poop?”

Xing Yue：“……”

Unfortunately, the moment Jiu-ger lifted the blanket, he caught the scent, instantly figuring out exactly what the Jiu-ger meant.

“Big Bro.” Xing Zhao saw the two of them having a secret conversation and immediately became curious. He quickly tapped Xing Yue on the arm and said urgently, “Big Bro, put me down! I want to take a sniff, too.”

Xing Yue：“……”

What surprises and mishaps in the daily routine of raising kids could he possibly avoid? He even wanted to grab a camera to film it all, just to embarrass these two little brats later.

But the little rascal didn’t understand an adult’s mind.

Once the two kids were on the ground, they huddled together and, finding common ground in their shared fascination, began circling the Qingguo in Xing Yue’s arms, examining its bottom. One would lean in to sniff, then the other would do the same—they were having a blast.

And Qingguo, the big dummy, seeing the two of them peeking in turns, actually thought they were playing a game. He stopped crying and gazed at them with eyes as moist and lustrous as glass beads, kicking his little legs and waving his tiny hands, giggling nonstop.

If you ignored the fact that he’d soiled his diaper, he really did look like a chubby little angel—pretty adorable, actually. 

Xing Yue: “……”

He couldn’t help but grumble inwardly: Do all these little brats rely on their looks to trick adults, making them unconsciously fall for their cuteness, so they’ll willingly handle their messes, soothe their emotions, and raise them without complaint?

Of course, his inner rant went unanswered.

But as he watched the little one, his heart melted into a puddle. In an instant, he cast aside the torment he’d endured the night before, waved his hand, and told Xing Zhao and Jiu-ger to go out and play.

Then, cradling the little brat, he resignedly opened the sheepskin swaddle, removed his soiled diaper, and used a clean one from the bedside to wipe away and put on a fresh one.

By the time he had finished tidying him up and stepped out of the room with the soiled swaddling cloth and the used diaper, he saw Jiu-ger standing at the courtyard gate, having already opened it, chatting with the women with a relaxed expression.

Xing Zhao, holding his little hand, hid behind him, staring curiously at the visitors from Jiang Family House.