Wong Mei lowered her eyes.
"They took our furniture, our remaining grain, even the wooden cart. We left with only the clothes we were wearing."
The youngest boy stopped playing.
"Father, will we have a house again?"
The question made the adults fall silent.
Wong Jian looked at his son.
"Of course."
"When?"
The father opened his mouth but couldn't answer immediately.
The Empress felt something tighten in her chest.
She looked at the boy.
"Do you know what my grandmother used to say?"
Tao shook his head.
"She said a house isn't made only of walls and a roof. It's made of the people who sit together inside it."
The boy considered her words.
"Then we still have a house?"
The Empress smiled.
"You have all five of you. So yes, you still have a home."
Wong Mei's eyes became moist.
The Emperor glanced at his wife.
He knew she wasn't merely comforting the child.
She believed every word she had spoken.
### Around the fire
