“Bro, I'm hungry…”
In a daze, Robert Hayes felt a pressure in his chest, followed by the soft, barely-there voice of a little girl in his ears.
The voice was weak—thin like it could disappear any second.
He opened his eyes just a bit and saw a tiny hand pinching his nose closed. When he looked at that pale, skinny face, his heart jumped hard.
“Emily?”
“Bro, I'm really hungry…”
She was curled up by the edge of the cold kang bed. Her little body looked like it could break any second. Those big teary eyes stared at him without blinking.
“My poor girl, don’t cry. I’ll go out now and get you something to eat.”
Robert’s voice was gentle as he tried to push himself up, but his whole body felt like jelly—no strength at all.
As he glanced at Emily, something on the wall caught his eye.
A calendar.
The date read:
“November 11, 1961.”
Robert nearly fell right off the kang from the shock.
He bit his tongue—sharp pain shot through.
It was real. Not a dream.
He’d been reborn. From a dying 82-year-old man, he was now back here—1961, sixty-four years ago.
It was the last year of that awful famine. The time when the collective kitchen had just disbanded. Food was more valuable than gold.
And Emily… this was the exact day she died from hunger.
November 11.
He could never forget it. Burned into his soul.
He still remembered—he left to beg for food after promising her he’d bring something back. He searched the whole village and finally got half of a boiled bird egg from Mary Parker.
When he got home, Emily had already slipped away in the cold. That damn half-egg, no matter how hard he tried, wouldn’t go past her lips anymore.
He’d hated himself ever since.
Why didn’t he take her with him? If she’d just gotten even one bite right away, maybe she wouldn’t have died so cold and hungry.
He was 18 that year.
Emily was just 8.
Their parents and three younger siblings had already passed in the two years before—victims of that cursed famine. Only the two of them were left.
And he still didn’t protect her.
That guilt had haunted him all his life—through the army, promotions, his time as a factory director, to his final breath.
Over and over, he’d ask himself:
If I had another shot, would I still leave her behind?
…
Outside, snow was falling heavy. After three years of drought, the Greater Xing’an Mountains finally saw its first snowfall of the winter.
Niujia Village was covered in white, like a scene out of a fairy tale.
The cold wind kept blowing snow into their doorless house. Robert shivered from the chill, finally snapping back to full awareness.Robert Hayes took a deep breath, feeling the rush of energy in his young body.
Even though hunger made his limbs feel weak and shaky, there was still that spark—raw youth surging through him, making his heart race.
"Man, being young really is something," he thought with a hint of relief and wonder.
But something felt different all of a sudden. Strange memories popped into his head.
Not just any memory—it was like a whole storage armory had appeared in his mind.
Though he'd been retired for years, Robert instantly recognized the warehouse. After all, he had built it himself. Never in a million years did he expect it would come back with him to 1961.
Weird, but incredible.
Where there's a military warehouse, there should be army rations, right? Maybe some canned food, or those compact military biscuits.
With that thought, a clear image of the warehouse flashed in his mind.
Rows and rows of weapons were neatly stacked—guns, ammo, tanks, artillery. There were even a few choppers sitting lined up in the back.
Blades, daggers, crossbows—all kinds of cold weapons were placed along well-organized shelves.
He saw special forces gear too—sniper rifles, ghillie suits, piles of uniforms, boots, tents, and all kinds of tactical stuff.
Even a bunch of medical kits.
"Come out," he tried, and a pistol popped into his hand.
"Back," he thought, and it disappeared again, returning to its place on the shelf.
Worked like a charm. That warehouse really was built to fit him perfectly.
He tried one more thing—could he stash Emily inside to keep her warm?
He gave it a shot, but nope. Didn’t work. Living people couldn’t be taken in.
That stung a bit.
Still, going back to 1961 with a whole warehouse like that wasn’t too bad.
But where’s the food?
He couldn't afford to waste time—Emily was in worse shape by the minute.
Scanning the place quickly with his mind, his excitement dropped fast—his heart went from burning hot to ice cold.
There wasn’t a single bite to eat.
“Damn it!” he cursed under his breath.
No time to hesitate.
He remembered clearly—there wasn’t much time left for Emily. If nothing changed, she wouldn't make it. The neighbors weren’t helpful before and he wasn’t about to waste time knocking on their doors now.
Only one place to go—Mary Parker’s.
He straightened Emily's worn coat as best as he could, lifted her carefully into his arms, then, through sheer will, pushed himself up.
“Hang in there, sis. I’m getting you something to eat,” he whispered.
“Rob, it’s snowing so hard. I can wait here,” Emily said softly, trying not to be a burden.
“Shh, don’t say that.”
Last time, he listened to her and ended up with years of regret.
Not this time. He had to take her with him, no matter what.
Without another word, Robert stepped outside, walking straight into the biting wind and thick falling snow.In the northeast, November nights came too fast. It was barely past three, yet the sky was already as dim as dusk.
The freezing wind kept blowing.
Emily Hayes shivered in Robert Hayes’s arms, and he quickly pulled open his coat, wrapping her tight to keep her warm.
It had been snowing hard for over a day and night. Each step he took sank deep into the knee-high snow and crunched underfoot.
The walk to Mary Parker’s place wasn’t far—only a few hundred meters—but it took Robert more than twenty minutes to get there.
He looked down. Emily, nestled against him, was staring up at him with those wide eyes.
Only then did his tense nerves relax a bit. As long as she was still alive, there was hope.
“Knock knock knock—anyone home?”
Robert knocked hard on the wooden fence gate and shouted. A young woman’s voice called from inside, “Yeah! Who’s there?”
Then the door creaked open, and out stepped a slender woman with a kind face.
“Robert? What’re you doing out in this snow? Come in, quick!” Mary Parker quickly stepped aside to let them in.
As Robert stepped closer, Mary finally saw Emily in his arms and looked surprised.
“What happened to Emily?”
“Sis Mary, you got any food in the house? Just a bite. I swear I’ll pay you back later,” Robert said while brushing the snow off himself.
…
The room went quiet for a moment.
“Mary, get... get that bird egg from the cupboard,” John Hayes said from the bed, breathing heavily after looking at Emily.
“Your back any better, John?” Robert asked, settling Emily gently down on the edge of the bed.
John didn’t answer right away. A wry smile crossed his face and he gave a slow shake of his head. Then he sighed deeply.
“No use... my spine’s out. It’s not healing.”
“Robert, that bird egg... we found it back in the fall. It’s old, and it’s all we’ve got left. Let her have it.”
Robert glanced at Tom and Lucy, standing nearby. The three-year-old and two-year-old were both staring hungrily at that half bird egg in Mary’s hand.
“Emily, here, eat this.”
Mary didn’t hesitate. She stuffed the egg straight into Emily’s mouth, seeing Robert still frozen in place.
“Mary... John...”
Robert’s throat tightened, eyes hot and burning.
He knew what half an egg meant during times like these. Food meant life—and this half egg was quite literally a chance at surviving.
Just half... yet so precious.
“Robert, you mind if I ask you for a favor?” John propped himself up, trying to look squarely at Robert.
“John, come on. You don’t gotta ‘ask.’ We’re family. Just say it—what can I do?”
“Don’t, John...” Mary tried to stop him, but he gave her a small smile and shook his head before turning back to Robert.
“Robert, can you help me out at the farm a bit?”