Age 2. Family

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More time has passed.

I must be somewhere around two years old.

My sense of time is skewed since my days are spend playing, sleeping and exploring this curious world I find myself in.

These people don't celebrate birthdays like I did in my other life: yes, there is a party, food and presents, but no cake and no candles and, while I understand the language a little better, there are still many gaps in my knowledge.

At least, I made my mother laugh and smile the first time I said "Mama" to her, which I believe is the equivalent of 'mother'.

I sincerely don't care if it's not, since it made her shine that precious smile down at me.


I've also spent some more time with my father, who I believe is named Shen He Long. 

He always seems to be writting letters. He must write a hundred each day. Spsrt from that, he has taken me out of the gigantic home where we live to visit the surrounding towns and forests. He appears to be in charge of a group of armed men, (probably soldiers, since they all wear the same black uniforms and armors) who I've seen hanging around the house every day. 

Sometimes a bald man in white clothes comes home and he sequesters my father for hours, before he leaves in a palanquin to who knows where.

Many defer to that man, but there are also many pity stares sent his way, for whatever reason.


"Shen Mu, darling, what are you doing?"

I turn around to see my mother sitting on her knees to look at me while her hand gently pats the top of my head.

"Mama!" I smile and hug her then point to the thing on the ground "read"

My dearest mother blinks in surprise and looks at what I'm pointing at.

My chubby baby fingers are hard to use and my mind wanders more often than not, but I've been able to somewhat work around that to begin training myself in learning the written language.

I wasn't an author for nothing, last time. And I sincerely miss writing poems and stories for my blog. 

So here I am, a lifetime later, trying to do the same thing but in paper.

Mother looks at the poorly drawn characters and beams down at me, although I can sense a great deal of surprise coming from her.

"You did this, honey?"

I think the coal stains on my hands are proof enough, but still, I nod at her.

She hugs me "This mother is pleasantly surprised. Her boy is so intelligent."

'Ah, flattery will get you anywhere'

My little practice session was cut short when mother noticed how dirty my hands and arms were, and I was thus dragged (kicking and screaming... just to keep appearances) to the bath.

Finally, I resigned to my fate.

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