Chunfu had thought that since she couldn’t keep hiding her abilities, she might as as well show off a little—at least the meal would turn out well. But to her surprise, Jicheng drove her out of the kitchen, forcing her to squat in a corner with Zhang Yan, playing with the chicks.
Her heart was uneasy. Though Jicheng’s face remained as calm as ever, she couldn’t shake the feeling that he was angry. His usually relaxed posture was now stiff, and he paced back and forth near her without so much as a glance in her direction. Normally, he would always find a way to pat her head or flash her a smile.
This time, when he stopped beside her, his words were directed at Zhang Yan: “Don’t go telling outsiders about your aunt’s business, understand?” Then, turning to Third Uncle, he sighed helplessly, “Sorry you had to witness such a mess.”
Third Uncle understood Jicheng’s concern. If word got out that his wife had suddenly “recovered,” the villagers would swarm with questions, twisting the truth until it was unrecognizable. He waved a hand dismissively. “You’ve got it rough, kid, stuck with a tyrant like Uncle Ji. He’s used to throwing his weight around, and he won’t stop bothering you. As for your wife’s situation, I’ll pretend I never heard a thing.”
Jicheng smiled sheepishly before returning to his work. Third Uncle occasionally exchanged a few words with Chunfu, but the girl kept stealing glances at the kitchen, her nervousness and anxiety amusing him. Ah, the joys of young married life—it was a delight to watch.
Liansheng and his wife arrived with half a basket of eggs to add to the feast. Seeing the untouched snacks on the table, still wrapped in paper, they knew Third Uncle had brought them. Liansheng sat chatting with Third Uncle while his wife went to help in the kitchen.
Seizing the opportunity, Chunfu slipped in as well, dutifully washing vegetables and fruit, even fetching firewood from the shed. Jicheng barely spared her a glance, but Liansheng’s wife couldn’t stop praising her for being so sensible.
Chunfu felt as if she’d committed some unforgivable sin—why else would Jicheng’s profile seem to radiate such biting mockery? Yet in reality, his expression remained as unreadable as ever, only fueling her frustration.
“These weeds are usually picked from the fields—they’re just pig feed. Clearly, Chunfu was the one who gathered them,” Liansheng’s wife said, about to toss them out.
Chunfu quickly stopped her, pleading softly, “They’re edible! And tasty!”
Jicheng clapped the lid onto the pot and shot her a cool glance. “Don’t mind her, sister-in-law. If she says they’re edible, let her figure it out herself. Even pig feed—she can’t resist meddling.”
Chunfu fumed inwardly. This clueless man—she’d make sure to eat them right in front of him tonight.
Jicheng carried out a bowl of washed fruit for the children. The snacks on the table remained untouched—Liansheng’s family had strict manners, and though the kids eyed them longingly, they resisted and ran off to play. Irritated by the thought of the girl in the kitchen, Jicheng unwrapped the treats and handed them out, keeping a few for himself before slipping into the kitchen to press them into Chunfu’s hands. Even if she wasn’t simple-minded anymore, she was still just a child at heart—she’d surely like these.
A smile finally broke across Chunfu’s face, and she peeked up at him, her glistening eyes brimming with mischief and satisfaction.
Liansheng’s wife could tell the couple had quarreled—Chunfu’s cautious attempts to please and Jicheng’s cold indifference spoke volumes. She sighed inwardly, remembering the sweetness of newlywed days, when the world seemed to hold only two people. Brushing cornmeal from her hands, she chuckled, “Looks like everything’s ready. I’ll head out first.”
Jicheng felt a pang of guilt. “You’re our guest, yet you’ve done so much work. I’m sorry—”
“Enough with the formalities,” she said, waving him off before leaving the kitchen to the couple.
Jicheng sighed. “You should go out too. It’s not proper for the hosts to hide in the kitchen.”
Chunfu, who had been staring at the ground, quickly looked up when he spoke. “You’re upset. Have a dried plum—they’re sweet and sour.”
“Go. We’ll talk tonight.” His firm tone left no room for argument. Stomping her foot, Chunfu left. She had no idea the man who doted on her could be so stubborn when angered. Who wouldn’t rejoice at their wife regaining her wits? Yet here he was, scowling as if personally offended.
The feast lasted until the moon hung high, casting silver light over the yard. Liansheng’s wife wanted to help clean up, but her children were already half-asleep, so she had to hurry home. Jicheng told Chunfu to go inside and close the door—he’d first take Zhang Yan home, then return to tidy up.
They’d walked this path countless times, the chirping of insects in the grass as familiar as their own breaths. Worried his uncle might mistreat his aunt, Zhang Yan hesitated before whispering, “Uncle, don’t hit Auntie. She didn’t mean to. She’s really scared of pain.”
Jicheng patted his shoulder gently. “Did your aunt get beaten often?”
Zhang Yan nodded vigorously. “Auntie was slow and didn’t listen before, so my mother would hit her with a stick. She was so afraid, she’d want to cry but didn’t dare. One winter, my mother made her sleep in a freezing room for years—she had frostbite all over. I kept thinking my mother would pay for bullying Auntie like that. She hated me for always playing with Auntie instead of obeying her. But Auntie was just… pitiful. Even outside, bad kids picked on her, and at home, she got beaten and scolded. That ugly embroiderer was the worst—her mother-in-law and husband beat her, and she took it out on Auntie. Once, she split Auntie’s head open—there’s still a scar behind her ear.”
Jicheng swallowed hard, staring at the moon to steady himself. Soon, they reached Zhang Yan’s house. Watching the boy disappear into the courtyard under the old locust tree, he turned and hurried home.
Chunfu had nearly finished cleaning. She’d packed the leftover chicken into a bowl and poured the broth into the dog’s dish, smiling as it ate eagerly. Straightening her sore back, she spotted Jicheng standing a short distance away, watching her intently. His voice, clear as water, carried on the night breeze: “You’re back.”
He grunted in response, fetched hot water, and instructed, “Wash up first. We’ll talk after.”
Stripping to the waist, he rinsed off at the well, lingering outside before finally entering the house. Chunfu had already washed and now sat primly on the kang in her underclothes, the oil lamp’s flame swaying in the draft he brought.
He sat across from her in silence. Unable to gauge his mood, Chunfu softened. Knowing his kindness, she was willing to humble herself. “Don’t be angry. My head still hurts from today’s fall. If you’re going to punish me, will I even live to see tomorrow? How about… a kiss to make it better?” She scooted closer and planted one on his cheek.
The memory of last night’s embarrassment flared in Jicheng’s mind—how she’d feigned ignorance to tease him. His temper ignited. “Is this how a proper young woman behaves?”
His coldness provoked her. “Who doesn’t know we’re married? Kissing my own husband isn’t a crime! Jicheng, I was wrong to hide it from you, but must you be so petty? Before I married you, I was so sick I nearly died. By some miracle, I lived—and my mind cleared. I pretended to stay slow because my brother wanted to marry me off to some rich old man for his own gain. I’m grateful you took me in and treated me so well. You might not believe it, but I once overheard my brother and his wife say that if I didn’t marry soon, they’d sell me to a brothel in a few years.”
Jicheng’s fists clenched. Though Zhang’s scheme had failed, the thought enraged him. Selling a person to such a place was pure evil. His anger dissolved. Pulling her into his arms, he murmured, “I was only upset because you didn’t trust me enough to tell me. Did you think I wouldn’t protect you? How could I ever punish you? Heaven blessed me with such a beautiful wife. From now on, I’ll shield you from everything. And you—shameless girl.”
Hearing his confession eased Chunfu’s heart. “It’s fine now. I’m already married—even if I ‘improve,’ my brother can’t touch me. Playing dumb was exhausting.”
Jicheng shook his head. “Keep acting a little slow. Saves you from village gossip.”
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