In front of them stood a tall man with a buzz cut.
The three of them seemed to be caught in an awkward silence.
I walked over, and honestly, I could tell at a glance that this man was my older brother.
There were many similarities between our facial features, though I resembled my mother more, while he took after my father.
Not that I had a clear memory of my father's face—I'd only seen it in an old black-and-white photo at home, which was enlarged from his ID card.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"Yezi, come here," my grandfather called me aside.
I glanced at the man, and he looked back at me. His features were sharp and well-defined, exuding a masculine presence.
Seeing me staring at him, he gave me a slight smile. Feeling the awkwardness, I returned the smile.
"When we sent you away back then, it was because we were really poor.
We took what they offered, and they raised you.
A man should abide by rules.
Did you inform them before coming back?" my grandfather asked as he took a drag from his tobacco pipe.
"There's no one left at home," the man said.
"What?" My grandfather was taken aback.
the man explained:
"My father was crushed to death in a mine when I was six. My mother remarried soon after.
I was raised by my grandfather. Last year, he passed away from cancer. Before he died, he told me the truth about my origins and told me to come back."
Hearing this, my mother's tears started falling uncontrollably.
I felt a deep sense of unease as well.
Though he only spoke a few short sentences, I could tell that my older brother—whom I had always thought was sent away to enjoy a better life—had actually suffered quite a lot.
My grandfather smoked in silence for a while, the surrounding neighbors chimed in:
"Old Ye, the child has gone through so much. Now that he's back, just accept him."
My grandfather thought for a long time before finally sighing:
"You can stay. But I can't betray my old friend. When you were given away, you became part of the Sun family to carry on their name. Your surname stays Sun."
The man nodded:
"Alright."
That's how I learned that my older brother had a rather imposing name—Zhongmou. Sun Zhongmou.
Since our house was small, my brother and I shared a room.
After spending a day together, I got a general sense of what kind of person he was.
He was a man of few words, calm, and always spoke concisely.
Most notably, he was extremely neat, as if he lived by a strict set of rules.
He didn't sleep in the bed with me but laid out a mat on the floor.
Every single one of his belongings was meticulously arranged—just like his personality.
For the next two days, my mother cooked up feasts.
It was clear that she was overjoyed about my brother's return.
But despite her warmth, his expression remained as composed as when he first arrived.
This made my mother feel awkward, but I reassured her that it was just the suddenness of it all—he would open up over time.
My brother stayed with us for three days.
Then, he packed his things. Thinking he was about to leave, my mother rushed out of the kitchen in alarm.
But he simply said:
"I'm moving out."
"Where? There aren't any inns around here," I asked.
"I bought a house in the next village, Sanlitun," he replied.
Sanlitun was the neighboring village, and there weren't any apartment buildings there.
If he said he bought a house, it probably meant he purchased an old rural home.
I suggested:
"Why not stay here? If you're settling down, you can get a plot of land in the village and build your own place."
"It's easier to do my work over there," he said firmly.
His words were brief but resolute.
No matter how much my mother and I tried to persuade him, he wouldn't change his mind.
At that moment, my grandfather took his pipe out of his mouth and said:
"Let the child go if he wants to. It's not that far away, anyway."
I helped carry his luggage to Sanlitun.
When we arrived, I was surprised to see that he had bought a two-story house—one of the better ones in the village.
I couldn't help but be a little shocked.
A two-story house with a courtyard like this, if built from scratch, would cost around 200,000.
He must have spent quite a bit to acquire it so quickly.
But I didn't ask any questions. After all, we weren't that familiar yet.
It wouldn't be appropriate to blurt out something like:Hey bro, where'd you get all that money?
The previous owner had already cleaned up the place, and my brother had few belongings.
As I helped him set up his bed, I reached for the black suitcase he had been carrying.
I assumed it contained his clothes and wanted to help him hang them up.
The moment my hand touched the case, he suddenly shouted:"Don't touch that!"
I was startled, my hand freezing in place.
He walked over with a cold gaze, took the suitcase from me, and said:
"It has personal items."
His icy tone was awkward, but at least he gave me an explanation.
Everyone has personal belongings, right?
I just laughed it off:
"Alright, you handle it yourself."
Once everything was settled, I found it increasingly awkward being alone with him.
So, I excused myself.
He simply nodded—not even a polite as ask me:
"stay a little longer?"
When I returned to the village committee office, our village chief, Chen Qingshan, pulled me aside with a mysterious look on his face.
"Your brother is loaded! He bought Chen Daneng's house—30,000, and he didn't even blink before paying!"
I just smiled without saying much.
That price was high, but if it weren't, the previous owner wouldn't have sold it.
I wasn't particularly concerned about my brother's wealth—whether he was rich or poor, it wouldn't change how I saw him. But still, I felt a bit touched.
A wealthy brother, returning to acknowledge the family that once gave him away—even though we were still struggling financially.
That alone was something rare.
The next day, my brother erected a flagpole at the entrance of his new home.
It was a bamboo pole holding up a yellow banner.
Three bold red characters were written on it: The Body Fisher.
It was an old-fashioned move—one could even call it flamboyant.
But there was also an undeniable air of chivalry to it, like something out of an ancient martial arts story.
Now I understood why he had moved to Sanlitun—he had come to be a corpse retriever.
But in a modern village, raising a flag for such a profession instantly turned into a joke.