Zhang Aiying walked out, a deep smile still lingering on her lips. "This child, he's already so old and still like this.

Yangyang, you're the elder brother, teach him more in the future, tell him to settle down a bit!" As Zhang Aiying spoke, a hint of doting indulgence softened her expression; though she was admonishing Yang Guang, it was clear she was quite pleased with her own son. In truth, Yang Guang had already been accepted into university last year, a decent school at that.

The reason he chose to repeat the year instead of going was because, upon seeing his mother coughing through the night, his mind suddenly shifted, and he made an immediate decision. He abandoned the bioengineering he was interested in and changed his major.

He decided to study medicine, determined to cure his mother's ailments in the future and save her from further suffering. "You worry too much, Little Guang has an excellent temperament and is very sensible.

There's no need to fret over him!" Zhang Yang smiled slightly, and as he spoke, his thoughts drifted to Yang Wanying—that cousin was the real headache of the family. Glancing at his aunt, Zhang Yang stood up and extended his hand, taking his aunt's hand in his.

"You've worked hard all these years. Little Guang and Wanying are grown now; you can finally enjoy some well-deserved peace and comfort!" Zhang Yang was feeling the wrinkles on her hand, but he used the opportunity to discreetly check her pulse.

From the pulse, it was evident that Zhang Aiying's health was truly poor. Not only did she have current ailments, but there were also several latent illnesses; these hidden issues hadn't flared up yet, but once they did, they would be far more severe.

The root cause of all this was her body's extreme deficiency, a depletion of both Qi and Shen (spirit/vitality). Jing, Qi, and Shen are the three treasures of the human body—invisible and intangible, yet profoundly important.

Since Zhang Aiying's Qi and Shen were both weak, her body naturally couldn't be robust. Moreover, the root of her illness dated back more than a decade, worsening over the years of development.

Calculating the timing, it coincided with the birth of her younger cousin. "Aunt, I brought quite a few good things this time.

I also picked up a batch of excellent health-nourishing medicinal herbs in Xijiang. I'll give them to you to take later.

These things are very fortifying and will certainly help your health!" Having understood the situation, Zhang Yang said with a smile. Aunt Aiying's illness was indeed troublesome.

She had seen many doctors, both traditional Chinese and Western. Both Yang Qing and Zhang Keqin had tried to help arrange treatment for her.

Unfortunately, supplementing deficient Qi and Shen is difficult. Of the three treasures, Shen is the hardest to replenish.

If Shen cannot be fortified, Jing and Qi cannot keep up, leading to the situation where, despite taking much medicine, her health declines day by day. However, the treatments these doctors provided were not entirely useless.

At the very least, they delayed the onset of her major episodes; otherwise, her condition would be much worse now. "The things you bought, keep them for your father.

Don't let his high position fool you; he works very hard!" Zhang Aiying smiled and shook her head. Zhang Yang remembering her was enough to make her happy; she didn't dwell on the gifts.

"My dad has plenty. Don't worry about him.

I’ll have Little Guang bring them all home later. But you must take the medicine I brought on schedule!" Zhang Yang smiled again, and this time, his voice carried a subtle trace of internal energy (Neijin).

Zhang Yang employed a slight Technique, not to deceive Zhang Aiying, but to subtly implant a suggestion in her subconscious: the supplements Zhang Yang brought are very important, and she must persist in taking them. As for the supplements themselves, they were merely an excuse for Zhang Yang.

While other doctors couldn't handle the dual deficiency of Qi and Shen, it posed no challenge to Zhang Yang. He possessed the Huanhun Cao (Soul-Returning Grass), specifically used to replenish Shen, left over from when he saved Old Qiao.

This is the ultimate remedy for repairing damage to Shen within the Jing-Qi-Shen trinity. If he could save Old Qi, who was critically ill, saving the mobile Zhang Aiying was certainly easier.

These medicines were naturally concocted by Zhang Yang himself. When delivered along with the other gifts, Zhang Aiying would only need to take them for ten days to be completely cured.

Once cured, those latent illnesses would never recur, and her health would no longer be a concern. Having resolved Zhang Aiying's issue, Zhang Yang felt a significant weight lift from his heart.

It was fortunate he arrived a bit earlier; his aunt's condition hadn't deteriorated into anything critical, which counted as a blessing. After chatting with his aunt for a while, Zhang Yang returned to his room.

Mi Xue was resting in the room. She had consumed quite a bit of alcohol earlier; her tolerance was average, and she was feeling dizzy.

She had already fallen asleep. Seeing her sleeping soundly, Zhang Yang decided not to disturb her.

Long Feng and Qu Meilan were also present, but they were in separate rooms. Long Cheng had parked the car at the location and then left to attend to other matters, not staying behind.

These two had only retired to rest after dinner; saying they were resting was a euphemism—they were actually engaged in dazuo (meditative sitting) and cultivation. Internal energy practitioners do not fear monotony; they cultivate whenever they have a spare moment to enhance their strength.

Fortunately, the courtyard house had plenty of rooms. Though small, they were adequate for lodging.

The only inconvenience was Zhuifeng, which couldn't fit comfortably in any available room and had to stay reluctantly in the courtyard for now, to be moved into a larger room later. In the afternoon, Zhang Yang sat alone on a stone bench beneath the old jujube tree, completely motionless.

He sat there for a very long time, and no one knew what he was contemplating. Anyone paying close attention to him would notice that his eyes were continuously fixed on the well-cover that had been placed over the old well.

"Everything in the house is the same. Do you still remember all this?" As Zhang Yang sat there, a person slowly walked up behind him and sat directly across from him.

Beneath the jujube tree was a stone table and several stone stools, all bearing the marks of time. They had been built years ago for shade during the summer.

He loved climbing onto the table and jumping into the tree when he was young. "I remember.

While you were drinking tea here one time, bird droppings fell right into your cup. You didn't know, and you commented that the taste was very strange when you drank it!" Zhang Yang chuckled as he spoke to the person before him, who immediately burst into loud laughter.

"Yes! That incident disgusted me so much I couldn't eat for two days.

You even made a slingshot, claiming you'd shoot down the bird that messed in my tea to avenge me!" The person across from him laughed so hard that tears almost streamed down his face. "Indeed, the slingshot was made, but the bird was never found!" Zhang Yang also laughed.

When he said this, the person opposite laughed even harder: "You only stood in one spot, how could you find the bird? Did you think that stupid bird would perch in the exact same spot to defecate again, waiting for you to shoot?

Besides, even if it had appeared in the original spot, the leaves would have obscured it—you wouldn't have seen it at all!" "Later, I realized this point and started constantly pulling off the leaves, for which I ended up getting scolded!" As the two spoke, their laughter grew more intense. A figure stood watching the laughter under the tree from the doorway, a faint smile on his face.

The person at the doorway was Zhao Min. He hadn't eaten lunch here, choosing to take care of it outside.

He knew when to stay and when not to linger. A secretary always serves the leader.

Their perception is incredibly keen. Zhao Min had been with Zhang Keqin for a significant time, yet he had never seen him laugh with such genuine happiness and ease.

At least, not in all the years Zhao Min had served him. The laughter under the jujube tree finally subsided after a long time.

The two then settled into a quieter conversation. The person who had walked over to sit opposite Zhang Yang was, naturally, Zhang Keqin.

Having taken the spiritual medicine, his body was more resilient than that of an ordinary person, and he hadn't truly been drunk; the effects of the wine had worn off after a short rest. In fact, it wasn't just him who had woken up.

Mi Xue was also awake. Like Zhao Min, she had stayed inside, not disturbing the father and son's happy reunion and catching up.

After talking for a while, Zhang Keqin suddenly fell silent. After a pause, he continued, "I actually bought this house for your mother back then!" "She loved this style of courtyard house (Siheyuan).

I remember I didn't have much money then. To buy this place, I borrowed from many people, and I even had to ask your grandfather for money.

Fortunately, property prices weren't high then, and I leveraged some connections, finally managing to secure the house!" After saying this, Zhang Keqin looked up at Zhang Yang, "It's a pity that after I bought the house, my work became overwhelmingly busy, and neither you nor your mother could live here for very long!" Recalling memories associated with Zhang Yang's mother, Zhang Keqin appeared somewhat melancholic. Zhang Yang remained silent, equally subdued.

He truly hadn't known that this house was bought because his mother liked it. He had indeed spent little time living here during his childhood.

As a result, his memories of this place were scant. In Zhang Yang's recollection, the memories of the places Zhang Keqin worked later held more weight than those of this home.

"No matter how long we lived here, this is still our home!" Zhang Yang suddenly stated. Zhang Keqin looked up in astonishment, gazed at his son for a moment, and then broke into a smile again.

"You are absolutely right. No matter how long we live here, this is our home.

Now, and in the future, this is our eternal home!" Saying this, Zhang Keqin smiled even more broadly, his joy deepening. For many years, Zhang Keqin had spent more time working outside the capital than within it, and he had lived away from this home for longer than he had lived in it.

Over time, his sense of 'home' had faded somewhat. This fading wasn't solely due to his frequent absence; the most critical reason was that he had stopped feeling a sense of 'home' within these walls.

His wife was gone, and his son resented him. Being alone here—could it still be called a home?

Although his second marriage was pleasant, it lacked that original feeling. Zhang Keqin remarried partly because of his late wife's wishes, and partly due to persuasion from some senior colleagues.

He was young and capable, rising quickly through the ranks; keeping his family unit empty would negatively affect his future advancement. In the domestic system, family reputation is highly valued.

If one cannot manage their small family, how can they govern a larger one? Self-cultivation, regulating the family, governing the state—the regulation of the family precedes governance of the state; that is the principle.

However, Zhang Keqin no longer felt that way. His wife had passed, but his son remained.

The son who had held a misunderstanding for over a decade finally acknowledged this house as 'home' alongside him. Zhang Keqin trusted that he and his son could support this home together.

After standing outside the door for a full hour, Zhao Min finally entered and approached Zhang Keqin, whispering into his ear, "Boss, your class reunion has been arranged. Seven o'clock this evening at the Beijing Hotel.

They've reserved a large room; there will be four tables in total!" Zhang Keqin had many obligations upon returning to the capital, and this class reunion was a commitment made in advance. His classmates were from his university days.

Many from that cohort of students were now doing well, some holding important positions in key departments. However, Zhang Keqin held the highest rank among them; there was no one else who had reached the position of Provincial Party Secretary, Number One.