Martial Arts Crossover: It All Started with Hijacking Li Canghai

The door was an ordinary wooden door, with most of the paint peeling off, revealing the grayish wood grain underneath.

With a "squeak".

The door hinges were old and in disrepair, making a dull, rattling sound.

The courtyard is not big.

A few green vegetables were planted in the corner, with water droplets still hanging on their leaves. A bamboo pole for drying clothes was placed under the wall, with a few old clothes hanging on it.

Everything was the same as he remembered, yet nothing was the same.

In the center of the courtyard, a figure stood with his back to the door.

With a hunched back, he held a bamboo sieve and spread out the chopped herbs one by one to dry.

The biological mother of this world is Qin Han, who was twenty years old. In ancient times, when people could get married at fifteen or sixteen, this was considered a very late marriage.

Although he is only in his late forties or early fifties, he already has a full head of white hair.

Perhaps this is what ordinary people are like: they don't know martial arts, they don't have the support of power and status, and they can't enjoy a life of luxury. This is how an ordinary person should be.

Qin Han's steps froze on the inside of the threshold, unable to move any further.

Looking at that figure from behind, staring at those hands that had become rough and cracked from years of washing clothes, chopping firewood, and rubbing herbs.

I remember when I left, my mother didn't have this much hair.

"Which kid is here to deliver something again?"

Liao Fang didn't turn around, her tone tinged with helplessness, "How many times have I told you? This old woman is still healthy, I don't need you to come here every other day..."

In the past two years, Wei Xiaobao not only sent people to secretly guard the courtyard, but also often asked neighbors to send rice, flour, oil and salt to Liao Fang, saying that the government was taking care of the widow and orphan.

Liao Fang was illiterate and unaware of her son's status and position outside the home; she simply attributed it to the kindness of her neighbor.

Qin Han stood five steps behind her.

He opened his mouth, but his throat felt like it was being squeezed.

He was actually a little scared, scared that his mother would die in some melodramatic way when he came back. After all, in the novels he read in his previous life, the protagonists always had to lose both their parents and have their relatives and friends sacrificed, as if they couldn't grow and become powerful without it.

Perhaps it was because he had absorbed the luck of Zhang Wuji and Linghu Chong, or perhaps it was due to the added fortune of his many female confidantes, but his mother remained safe and sound.

half an hour.

"daughter."

Just one word.

His voice was so hoarse it didn't sound like his own.

Liao Fang paused... the bamboo sieve slipped from her hand.

With a "thud," the half-dried herbs scattered all over the ground.

He froze on the spot, as if he had been frozen in place by something.

After several breaths, he slowly turned around, little by little.

When I saw the person standing at the door.

He stood straight, with broad shoulders, wearing a neat long robe, and his eyes held a sharpness that made people afraid to look him in the eye.

Her appearance hasn't changed.

But the young man with wolf-like eyes who left home has completely disappeared.

Liao Fang's lips trembled, and her cloudy old eyes first showed blankness, then disbelief.

"Han...Han people?"

Qin Han nodded.

Liao Fang did not move.

She was afraid, afraid that this was a dream.

She's had this dream too many times in the last two years. She dreams that her son pushes open the door and calls her "Mom," then reaches out to touch her, but touches nothing. When she wakes up, her pillow is wet.

He took two unsteady steps forward and reached out his hand.

Those hands, covered in calluses and cracks, trembled as they reached for Qin Han's face.

The moment my fingertips touched my skin, my whole body trembled.

It is hot.

it is true.

Her hand moved from Qin Han's cheek to his chin, from his chin to his shoulder, and from his shoulder to his arm, over and over again, as if to confirm that every inch of his body was intact.

"You've lost weight..."

"It's gotten dark too..."

Liao Fang's voice was trembling.

As I touched it, tears started flowing, not just a few drops, but streams of tears.

I didn't ask my son where he had been all these years, nor what he had done.

"You brat!"

Liao Fang cried and cursed, punching him in the chest.

"So you finally decided to come back?!"

"He's been gone for almost two years, and hasn't sent a single letter!"

"Your mother thought... she thought you..."

When he got to the last sentence, his voice could no longer be formed.

Qin Han's eyes reddened, and he bent his knees.

"daughter."

His forehead was pressed against the ground.

"Your son is unfilial. I'm late."

Liao Fang looked at her son kneeling on the ground and quickly bent down to pull him up.

I couldn't pull it; I used all my strength but still couldn't move it.

She knelt down, pulled her son's head into her arms, and gently patted his back with one hand.

"As long as you're safe and sound... that's all that matters..."

"It's good that you're back...it's good that you're back..."

Doorway.

Dong Tianbao leaned against the wall, arms crossed, his gaze sweeping across both ends of the alley.

He could naturally hear the noises coming from the courtyard.

Zhang Junbao stood beside him, the book in his hand somehow slipped back into his pocket.

Neither of them spoke.

A long time passed.

Dong Tianbao suddenly whispered, "Junbao."

"Um?"

"Tell me... what's it like to have a mother?"

Zhang Junbao rolled his eyes at him. "I'm an orphan just like you. How would I know?"

Dong Tianbao didn't need to answer.

He turned his head away, gazing at the sky at the end of the alley, and his Adam's apple bobbed.

He and Junbao were both orphans who grew up in Shaolin Temple. If it weren't for their good master, the two brothers would have been bullied to death by some monks.

……

The crying in the yard gradually subsided.

Liao Fang pulled Qin Han into the house, pressed him down in a chair, and then turned to the stove to start a fire.

"Are you hungry? Mom will make you a bowl of noodles."

Qin Han watched his mother's busy figure as she went back home, and the smoke from the stove rose up.

"Mother, there are two more people outside."

Qin Han spoke, his tone barely concealing a smile.

"Two? Who are they?"

"My brother."

He waved to the person outside the door.

Dong Tianbao and Zhang Junbao walked in.

The two men stood in the courtyard, one tall and imposing like an iron tower, the other slender and refined like a scholar, making them appear particularly cramped in the small courtyard.

Liao Fang peeked out from behind the stove and glanced at the two of them.

When the two of them reached their mother.

"This one is called Dong Tianbao, and that one is called Zhang Junbao. They are brothers that I have met outside."

He paused, then added, "My two brothers have been one person since childhood."

Dong Tianbao was at a loss for words and was so embarrassed that his neck turned red.

Liao Fang paused for a moment, put down the spatula in her hand, and walked over.

He first looked at Dong Tianbao, then at Zhang Junbao.

"What are you still standing there for?"

Her voice began to tremble again.

"If you recognize Han'er as your elder brother, and don't mind, you can call him your godmother."

"From now on, this will be your home, a place to come back for holidays and festivals."

Dong Tianbao opened his mouth, his lips trembling several times.

His personality is the kind that responds to violence with violence. When he was a child, if someone from Shaolin caused trouble for him, he would just rush in without saying a word.

He was also a ruthless killer on the battlefield.