Jicheng deliberately struck where no bruises would show. Wang Bo’s nose bled, and as he dodged with his arms covering his head, the blood smeared onto his clothes. Jicheng didn’t hold back, beating him until he begged for mercy, crying out for his ancestors.
Jicheng finally stopped, glaring at him coldly, his chest heaving with anger. “Let’s go find your village head right now, so no one can say I bullied you. I won’t make a fuss about anything else, but we’re going to settle the score for you laying hands on my wife.”
Wang Bo, who had always been a sly troublemaker without ever suffering consequences, now found himself unable to even straighten his back after the beating. Even if they went to the village head, he knew no one would speak in his favor. The thought of facing jail time made him defiant. “Even if we go to the village head, you won’t get justice. I’m just this kind of person—worst case, I’ll rot in jail.”
As the saying goes, “A crooked stick will have a crooked shadow.” Wang Bo’s father had also been a petty thief in his youth, though he’d mended his ways in old age. He only had this one son and had hoped Wang Bo would turn over a new leaf, but the boy was beyond redemption—his nature was set.
Though Jicheng kept to himself, he knew the goings-on in nearby villages. He scoffed. “Save that talk for when we get to your village.”
The two men blocking Jicheng’s path hesitated, but he said firmly, “I don’t want to fight you. I promise I’ll bring him back after settling this. I may not socialize much, but you know my word is good.”
“Fine, we’ll trust you this once. Bring him back before dark,” one of them relented. Jicheng’s integrity was beyond reproach.
In Liujia Village, the evening smoke from chimneys signaled dinner preparations. Men returning from the fields slowed their steps when they saw Jicheng dragging Wang Bo by the collar. “Jicheng, what’s going on?” someone called out.
Ignoring them, Jicheng marched straight to the village head’s house. “Uncle Xitian, I need you to settle a matter for me.”
Xitian was busy making dumplings with his wife, excited for their daughter Axiu’s return from town that night. Brushing flour off his hands, he stepped outside and immediately understood the situation upon seeing Wang Bo. He sent for Wang’s father and asked, “What happened? Did he steal from you?”
Xitian glared at Wang Bo. “You’re a disgrace to Liujia Village. Everyone struggles, yet you waste your time instead of tending your own land, leaving your old father to toil day and night.”
Jicheng waited calmly, disgusted by Wang Bo’s shameless demeanor. Soon, Old Wang arrived and, without needing an explanation, began beating his son. “You worthless fool! What did you steal? Return it now! Do you want our family driven out of the village?”
Wang Bo howled, “I didn’t steal anything!”
“Then why is he after you?” Old Wang turned to the stern young man.
Jicheng sighed. “He didn’t steal, but he tried to assault my wife. She escaped and called for help, but he still beat her badly. Our village head told her to pretend it was an accident, but as her husband, I won’t let this slide. Uncle Xitian, I ask for your judgment.”
Old Wang’s heart sank. He knew his son—a man in his thirties with no wife, who’d harassed women before. He believed Jicheng. This was karma for his own past misdeeds.
Xitian was stunned. Jicheng was married? What about Axiu? She’d returned hoping… He sighed. “Old Wang, what do you propose? A man beating a woman—and not even his own! I stand with Jicheng. If Dongpo Village won’t handle this, I will. How can any family dare marry their daughters here with Wang Bo around? If he doesn’t change, you’ll have to leave.”
Old Wang panicked. “I’ll apologize to Jicheng’s wife tomorrow and pay for her treatment. Please don’t cast us out—where would we go?”
Xitian had only meant to scare them. He turned to Jicheng. “Is this acceptable? Let Old Wang bring Wang Bo to apologize tomorrow. You can go home now.”
Jicheng nodded. “Fine. But I must take him back. He’s also wanted for theft in Dongpo Village. The head there plans to take him to the magistrate tomorrow. I won’t make his guards’ job harder.”
After a moment’s thought, Xitian agreed. As Jicheng left, he told the weeping Old Wang, “This is your doing. He learned from you. Maybe jail will straighten him out. Go home and prepare for tomorrow.”
Xitian worried about breaking the news to Axiu. Her heart was set on Jicheng.
On the way back, Jicheng ignored Wang Bo’s protests. A man a decade older should know better by now. A carriage passed by, but Jicheng didn’t glance at it. At the abandoned temple, he handed Wang Bo over and hurried to buy medicine for Chunfu.
When he returned, Chunfu was dozing at the table, her face still swollen. His heart ached as he applied the ointment. “Where else does it hurt?” he asked urgently. Wang Bo had struck hard, and her fair skin bruised easily.
She shook her head gingerly. “Just my face. He didn’t touch me elsewhere—too dirty.” Noticing bruises on his hands, she gasped. “What happened to you? Put some medicine on it.”
Jicheng grinned. “I’m tough. It’ll heal. I gave him a beating—had to vent my anger. His father will come apologize tomorrow, so I’ll stay home with you. I should’ve taken you with me.”
Chunfu pointed to her hairpin, smiling weakly to show she loved it, then urged him to eat.
At dusk, despite Liansheng’s wife’s protests, Chunfu had insisted on returning, knowing Jicheng would skip meals to save money. Ignoring her pain, she made him a bowl of hand-torn noodles with stir-fried vegetables, seasoned with vinegar and chili. They ate together, Jicheng savoring each bite but slowing his pace to match hers.
That night, as they lay in bed, Jicheng said, “The goldsmith in town found me work—his friend’s building a mansion and needs hands. I’ll tell Third Uncle I’ll start once you’re better.”
Chunfu shook her head. “I’m fine. Don’t lose their trust over this. Just catching the thief is enough.”
But Jicheng was firm. “No. I’ll see if Old Wang keeps his word. We may keep to ourselves, but we won’t be bullied. If we let this slide, what next?”
Chunfu nodded, already planning to gather raspberries in the mountains soon. She couldn’t let Jicheng shoulder everything. Noticing leftover rock sugar in a packet, she asked, “Do workers in town bring their own food?”
Jicheng shook his head. “Some don’t. The boss pays well and feeds us. But I’d rather save the money for treats you like.”
Chunfu chided him. “Why do you always deprive yourself?”
He chuckled. “I’m no glutton. Seeing you enjoy things makes me happy. Damn that troublemaker for ruining it.”
In the dark, Chunfu squeezed his hand, resting her head on his chest. “I never imagined married life could be so good. I’m lucky to have you. When you told the matchmaker I deserved no less than anyone else, I knew you were the one. Thank heavens others overlooked you. Jicheng, our life will only get better.”
Jicheng smiled. Strong and hardworking, he’d earn enough for a comfortable life. “I’ll work harder. In a few years, when you’re stronger, we… we…”
Chunfu tilted her head. Blushing, he whispered, “We should have a child. I’m not young anymore. I dream of a lively home.”
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