When Chunfu woke up, the sky outside was already bright, and the space beside her was empty, leaving only neatly folded bedding. She pulled the thin quilt over her head, feeling warm and cozy, her lips curling into a smile. Outside, birds chirped incessantly, occasionally accompanied by his steady and firm footsteps. Though she knew life ahead would be frugal, she still felt content and at ease.
The footsteps grew closer, softening as they entered the room. Jicheng had just lifted the cloth curtain when he met her moist eyes. Smiling, he sat beside her, stroking her hair with a tone as if coaxing a child, “Did you sleep well? I made breakfast. After eating, we’ll go pay respects to our parents.”
Chunfu swiftly got up. Placed to her left was yesterday’s wedding dress, its festive red like a blazing fire that scorched her eyes. Pausing briefly, she picked it up and slipped it on. A sash of the same color was sewn at the waist, and just as she was about to tie it, his strong hand stopped her. With practiced ease, the sash wove between his fingers, and as he tightened it, he slowed his movements to form a neat and pretty knot.
When he looked up, his narrow, handsome peach-blossom eyes held a glimmer of amusement, like scattered light filtering through leaves—beautiful and fresh. His clear, magnetic voice echoed through the room, “Go wash your face.” Meanwhile, he bent his legs to fold the quilt, his striking looks utterly captivating.
Farmers ate the same things every day. Since Jicheng’s household was small, there were more grains in his bowl compared to her days at her parents’ home, where her sister-in-law seemed to count out each portion meticulously, leaving the bowls as clear as water, with barely any rice visible at the bottom.
After washing her face and rinsing her mouth, Chunfu enjoyed the cool breeze of the morning. Though the rain had stopped, the sun remained hidden, yet it felt pleasant. Jicheng had made flatbread, which wasn’t particularly tasty and was too hard. Each bite required endless chewing until her jaw ached, and she could only swallow it down with rice soup. There was also a plate of pickled vegetables on the table, crisp and refreshing. She ate half before setting down her chopsticks, brushing off the crumbs from her hands and saying softly, “I’m full. It’s too hard—I can’t bite through. You’ve got strong teeth.”
Jicheng, who had already finished a whole piece of flatbread, chuckled awkwardly. He hadn’t thought it through properly and silently resolved to steam buns next time. Quickly finishing his meal, he cleaned up the dishes, then took a bamboo basket prepared earlier and walked side by side with Chunfu toward the fields.
Chunfu found the small basket in his hands adorably woven—it would look delicate and pretty in her grasp. She took it from him, but as she turned her head, she noticed a man peeking furtively outside the courtyard. Upon closer look, wasn’t that Jicheng’s cousin, Jiliang? What was he sneaking around for? Recalling how he had pressured Jicheng the day before, she immediately understood.
Jicheng was thinking of taking Chunfu to the mountains after paying respects to their parents when he felt her tug his sleeve. Turning, he saw her small face twisted in concern. “What’s wrong?”
Chunfu pursed her lips and unloaded everything onto her sister-in-law. After all, everyone knew how poorly she treated her—a few more accusations wouldn’t hurt. Feigning innocence, she said, “Jicheng, where did you hide the valuables? If you want to treat me well, you should give them to me. My sister-in-law said if you don’t, it means you don’t care about me.” She inwardly cringed at how idiotic the words sounded. Jicheng was clever—he must have hidden things well, beyond easy discovery.
Jicheng watched as she first widened her eyes, then pouted, finding it utterly endearing. The only valuables in his home were the money they’d need for the near future and the few things his mother had left behind. Smiling, he replied, “I’ll show you when we get back, but you must promise not to tell anyone.” He even pressed a finger to his lips, signaling secrecy.
Chunfu blinked her large, round eyes, mimicking his gesture, and whispered, “I won’t tell. I won’t tell.”
The graves of the Zhang elders were in the fields. Jicheng had brought the jug of wine gifted by Uncle Xiangcheng, some paper money, and a small dish—a way to share the happy news with the Zhang couple, letting them rest easy in the afterlife. Chunfu’s emotions were mixed, unsure if her former self had reunited with her family. Following Jicheng’s lead, she bowed three times before the raised mounds. Jicheng was solemn and earnest, murmuring like an oath, “I knew you’d worry about Chunfu. Today, your son-in-law comes to speak with you. I’ll treat her well. Next time we visit, she’ll be plump and healthy—you can rest assured.”
Though Jicheng’s words were simple, Chunfu found herself stealing glances at him. He looked so handsome when serious. They waited until the paper money had burned completely before leaving.
The Ji elders were buried on a mountain not far from Jicheng’s home. Two modest mounds were shaded by lush trees. Jicheng poured half the wine onto the ground—his father had loved to drink—and burned the paper money before speaking. “Father, Mother, I’ve married. I came to tell you. I know you worried about Jiliang—he’s doing well, already married to a capable woman from the neighboring village.” He made no mention of how Jiliang, egged on by his uncle and aunt, had coveted the family’s two pieces of jewelry.
Chunfu sighed inwardly. This man truly only shared good news. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, and birds chirped from the trees before fluttering away, leaving only swaying branches.
The forest path was deep and secluded. Perhaps the long drought had hardened the ground, as yesterday’s rain left no mud, only the scent of fresh earth. Fearing dangerous animals might emerge, Jicheng didn’t take her far, picking mushrooms not far from the path. The rain had nourished them, making them plump and inviting. Chunfu’s mouth watered at the thought of soups, stir-fries, or deep-frying them, but she glanced at Jicheng and held back.
After filling half the basket, Jicheng stopped and called Chunfu to pick some sweet berries. The bright red fruit burst with juice as she ate, and she asked between bites, “There are so many—why not pick more?”
Jicheng had already gathered plenty for her and chuckled. “Leave some for others. We can’t eat them all anyway.”
Chunfu pouted, thinking to herself, *How could we not finish them?* She could dry and fry the mushrooms as snacks for Zhang Yan, though oil was exorbitantly expensive. Her sister-in-law’s dishes barely had a trace of oil. She laughed at herself—if she recklessly acted on her whims, Jicheng would surely see her as a spendthrift.
They didn’t stay long on the mountain before retracing their steps. Chunfu knew the hills held countless treasures, but for now, she couldn’t explore further. Back home, she set the basket on the table, hesitating whether to fetch water to wash the mushrooms, when Jicheng pulled her into the inner room. He pried open a brick in the corner, and as he reached for the second, she vaguely understood and stopped him. “What are you doing? I’m hungry—let’s eat.”
Her memory was sharp—no one else had entered the room. The tension in her heart eased, though she still wondered what Jiliang was up to. She turned and climbed onto the kang, swinging her legs and whining about hunger. Jicheng had no choice but to relent—she truly had the temper of a child, changing moods in an instant. Flicking her forehead, he went to cook.
Bored, Chunfu tapped her fingers, a smile playing on her lips. It wouldn’t do for thieves to ransack such a tidy home. As she moved to get down, her hand brushed against something protruding. Curious, she pulled it out—a glaring “IOU” leaped from the page. Reading further, she realized it was the agreement Jicheng had drawn up with his uncle, witnessed by the village chief. *This Jicheng—how could he leave something so important here?* She wanted to hide it for him but found no suitable spot. Spotting a book on the high cabinet, she climbed onto the kang, took it down, folded the document, and tucked it between the pages. The other contents of the book held no interest for her.
When Jicheng returned to call her for water, he froze at the sight of her grinning while holding the booklet from Shopkeeper Jin. Panicked, he snatched it away, his voice rough. “Didn’t I tell you not to look at this?”
Chunfu watched as his face flushed crimson and couldn’t help but delight in his fluster. Her limpid eyes lingered on the item hidden behind his back before lifting to meet his gaze. Feigning displeasure, she said, “So stingy. Jicheng, what are they doing hugging like that?”
Jicheng felt as if a gale had swept past his ears, leaving him unsteady. His handsome face cycled between red and pale. *How was he supposed to explain this?* Unbeknownst to him, Chunfu was thoroughly enjoying his embarrassment, her smirk brimming with mischief.
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