The plane rattled gently as it descended, wheels extending with a low mechanical groan.
Bruce pressed his forehead against the airplane window, staring down at the hazy outline of the city below. His heart pounded with anticipation and a touch of nervousness.
He wasn't just arriving in a new country—he was stepping into a new life, a second chance.
"Aiyah! Elbows, you have elbows like swords," Uncle snapped, squirming in the cramped middle seat.
Bruce blinked and looked down and his elbow had indeed crept a bit too far onto Uncle's side of the shared armrest.
"Sorry Uncle" Bruce said sheepishly, pulling his arm back.
Jackie, lounging in the aisle seat with headphones around his neck, chuckled. "Come on, Uncle. Bruce is just excited. First time landing in China with his own feet."
Uncle glared at both of them. "Excited people have bony elbows! One more jab and I will chi-block you mid-flight!"
Bruce and Jackie both burst into laughter.
Bruce rubbed his arm, grinning. It felt good to laugh. It felt even better to be squeezed between family—even if one of them threatened to shut off his nervous system.
[Arrival in the Land of Roots]
The airport terminal bustled with motion and language, filled with echoes of footsteps and announcements
Bruce clutched the handle of his bag tightly as they passed through immigration. The scent of roasted peanuts and steamed dumplings filled the air.
It was a whirlwind of sensation, and it made him feel more alive than ever. Outside the terminal, the city stretched before them like an ancient poem hidden in a modern book.
Steel buildings reached skyward, but just beneath them lay tiled rooftops, hanging lanterns, and age-worn signs with golden calligraphy.
Jackie hailed a cab and they squeezed into the backseat. Jackie gave the driver the address.
Bruce glanced at Uncle, then out the window at the sprawling cityscape. "Feels strange," he said "Like I'm seeing something familiar for the first time."
Uncle tapped his foot against the floor. "Too long. But your roots always here, Bruce. This land, this city—it's in your blood, even if you were far away. You're not just visiting; you coming home."
Bruce turned his gaze back out the window, letting the words settle. Something within him stirred at those words. His fingers brushed over his chest absentmindedly, feeling the faint hum of his chi and the quiet, unspoken presence of the dark pearl still nestled near his heart.
[Golden Relics & Antiques]
The cab turned onto a narrow, cobblestone road. The world shifted again. No more modern buildings. No neon signs. This part of the city looked untouched by time.
Birds chirped from rooftops. A man pushed a cart of incense and paper talismans past them.
Jackie pointed ahead. "There it is."
Nestled between a sleepy tea house and a small restaurant-styled like a red temple, stood a shop with a curved tiled roof and wooden signboard.
Golden Relics & Antiques
Restorations, Appraisals, and Rare Spiritual Artifacts
Bruce squinted at the smaller text beneath "You actually advertise spiritual artifacts on the door?" he asked.
Uncle snorted as he unlocked the front. "Fools ignore it. Wise people already know. Honest marketing."
The door creaked open. A bell chimed. Dust danced in the sunlight.
Bruce stepped into the shop and immediately felt it. A pulse that was soft and ancient, brushing his senses like silk.
Shelves lined the walls, stacked with scrolls, rusted blades, chipped vases, jade statues, and things he couldn't name.
There was a smell of old paper, incense, and something faintly metallic. It wasn't just a store. It was a place where time took a breath.
Jackie wandered in behind him. "Feels the same."
Uncle nodded and said "It is the same. And now, it is yours too." which comforted Bruce
[The Courtyard of Discipline]
Exploring the shop Bruce stepped through a door behind the counter, lay a quiet stone courtyard, enclosed by high walls thick with ivy.
Bamboo creaked gently in the wind. A circular training platform sat in the middle, surrounded by old wooden dummies and racks of worn training weapons.
He stepped forward, the stone cool under his feet. He could feel the energy here—subtle chi wards pulsing in the ground, humming in tune with his own.
"We trained here every morning growing up," Jackie said, stretching his shoulders. "Uncle believes in sweating before sunrise."
"Aiyah! Discipline not punishment," Uncle said from behind. "Discipline purification."
Bruce nodded. "Then I'll train here, too. Every day."
Uncle gave an approving nod and replied. "Uncle make you strong" to which he just smiled
[Bruce's Room]
They climbed a set of creaky stairs to the second floor. Uncle led Bruce to the third door, the smallest room tucked into the back corner.
It wasn't large, but it had wooden floors, clean walls, and a traditional bed with deep red covers embroidered with golden dragons. A desk stood by the window and a shelf with a few books and a lantern completed the setup.
It was warm. Private. Peaceful.
Bruce stepped in slowly towards the desk, a photograph in a wooden frame was there. He picked it up. The picture was faded, but the faces were clear.
His father, Liwei Chan was standing. He looked young, smiling, arm slung around Jackie's shoulders. Uncle, standing behind them with a scowl and a teacup raised like a toast.
The breath caught in Bruce's chest. His fingers trembled slightly.
Uncle spoke softly from the doorway. "He left it here. Said it belonged with family."
Bruce swallowed hard. "He looks happy."
"He was," Uncle said. "And foolish. And kind. You resemble him."
Bruce blinked fast, brushing the corner of his eye with a thumb. "I won't let you down. Either of you."
Uncle nodded. "I know. You have good heart and the blood of proud Chan family run within you."
Jackie stepped into the room with folded blankets. "You ready to start over?"
Bruce looked at the photo, then at his new bed, the open window, the world beyond.
"Yeah," he said, voice quiet but firm. "I'm home."
-----END-----
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