Chapter 45:

Li Xiue finally saw clearly that the shadow was a large, ferocious dog baring its sharp teeth, poised to pounce and tear at her. Instantly terrified, she dared not even breathe, her face pale as she turned to look at the man who had spoken.

“Young master, what is the meaning of this? Quickly call off this beast—if it harms someone, it won’t end well.”

At that moment, Zhang Yan was sitting on a small wooden stool counting the pancakes his aunt had made, his heart heavy with mixed emotions. It was the first time he truly felt his mother was hopelessly unreasonable. Just listening to her from his aunt’s house made him feel ashamed—how much more ridiculous must she sound to outsiders? Even Liansheng’s wife made sense; his mother was utterly shameless. Yet when he heard the words about someone getting hurt, he couldn’t help but rush outside. Seeing the large dog, he quickly pulled at his aunt’s sleeve, pleading.

Pei Qian sneered, arms crossed, his voice cold and low: “Since Miss Chunfu refuses the goodwill of the Pei family, these gifts remain ours. Taking without permission is theft. If my Runiang bites someone to death, so be it.”

The second young master of the Pei family patted his shoulder and laughed: “Enough. We came to repay kindness, not to stir trouble. That dog is his treasure, named Runiang—not some mere beast. If you provoke him further, you might really lose your life.”

Pei Qian waved his hand, and Runiang let out a low whimper before obediently trotting back, nuzzling his hand. He recognized the woman he had seen at the flower-viewing party, never expecting it to be Chunfu, already married. His interest waned instantly, and he said impatiently: “Since she looks down on us, let’s go back. If you spent more time on proper business, you wouldn’t need to bother me with every little thing.”

The second young master knew his brother had lost patience and said awkwardly: “In that case, we’ll take our leave. If you ever need help, Miss, feel free to come to the Pei family and ask for me.” Before his words fully faded, Pei Qian had already left leisurely with Runiang.

Chunfu exhaled in relief, finally seeing them off. She smiled at Liansheng’s wife: “I must seem ungrateful, but what can I do? This is just my fate—money not earned by my own hands never feels secure.”

Liansheng’s wife laughed along: “This is what they call good deeds bringing good rewards. Heaven remembers your kindness.”

Li Xiue watched as the men carried away the boxes, her heart tearing with frustration. She wanted to snatch them back but feared retaliation. A surge of anger choked her chest, and she stormed back, pointing at Chunfu and shouting: “Are you out of your mind? You wretched thing, throwing away a good life! If you don’t want it, give it to us. Don’t you feel sorry for your brother? He’s weak, can’t do heavy labor, yet supports a whole family—how hard is that?”

Chunfu scoffed: “Sister-in-law, just go home. Don’t embarrass yourself in front of Liansheng’s wife. I know exactly what you were scheming back then. Out of respect for family ties, I won’t expose you—but don’t push me.”

Li Xiue’s face twisted with rage: “Oh, how impressive! If it weren’t for me, could you have married into a good life? Chunfu, you must have a conscience. Don’t forget your roots.”

Zhang Yan, who knew better than anyone how harshly Li Xiue had treated Chunfu, stepped forward and tugged at her sleeve: “Mother, don’t make things difficult for Aunt. She has her own struggles. Let’s go home.”

Unable to vent her fury, Li Xiue turned on Zhang Yan, slapping him hard: “Useless traitor! Always disappearing when there’s work at home. Don’t want to go back? Fine! Pay me back for every bite and thread I’ve given you, then go wherever you like. You’re not even fit to tie Zhang Tong’s shoes!”

Zhang Yan’s expression hardened like unyielding stone, all traces of hurt gone. The last shred of attachment in his heart vanished: “Mother, let’s go.”

Liansheng’s wife shook her head as she watched Li Xiue leave: “What a sin. A family shouldn’t be like this… I doubt Li Xiue will come to a good end.”

Chunfu felt even worse. Returning to the kitchen, she saw the mess she’d left in her rush had been tidied by Zhang Yan. Her eyes reddened as she kneaded the dough fiercely, resentment swelling in her chest. She made up her mind—she no longer cared what Zhang Yan thought.

This was the last batch. Once done, she’d have time to rest. While the pancakes were still warm, she packed a few for Liansheng’s wife and tried to pay her, but the woman refused, saying the work was nothing and she had little else to do anyway. With that, she took the pancakes and left.

Working together sped things up, leaving Chunfu plenty of time for other tasks. She decided to pickle some vegetables. Once, she’d craved the pickles made by an auntie downstairs so badly she woke early every day, skipping sleep just for a small plate of that crisp, spicy-sour delight. The auntie had shared her recipe, but Chunfu could never replicate the taste. After the auntie returned to her hometown, that flavor was lost forever.

Kneeling in the vegetable patch, she picked ripe beans, cabbage, celery—all good for pickling. The key was chili and garlic. Jicheng loved spicy food, so this should suit his taste.

After washing and prepping the vegetables, she sliced the chilies into rings and crushed the garlic with the back of her knife. Mixing everything in a basin with salt, she poured in enough vinegar to submerge the vegetables. Then she heated oil in a wok, adding Sichuan peppercorns and star anise until the aroma bloomed and the oil turned red. Pouring it over the garlic in the basin released an irresistible fragrance.

Jicheng returned unusually late, but luckily she’d started early. After washing up, he could eat right away. His nose twitched as he entered: “What’s that smell? It’s amazing.”

Chunfu had just served him a small bowl of pickled chilies. Smiling, she said: “Your nose is sharper than Dabao’s.”

Dabao was the puppy Jicheng had brought home in exchange for a few meat bones. Chunfu found calling it “puppy” awkward, so Jicheng named it Dabao after much deliberation. She realized then—if they ever had a child, she couldn’t let him name it.

“Eat this for now. It’ll taste even better tomorrow. Are you going to the mountains today?”

Jicheng could only fill up on noodles, so Chunfu always accommodated him. Today, though, she wasn’t hungry, so she chopped some vegetables and made small buns, popping them into Jicheng’s bowl one by one. He grinned: “Your cooking keeps getting better. When our child is older, I’ll skewer these buns on a stick for them to eat.” Pausing, he answered her question: “Yes. I heard the herbs that used to be cheap are suddenly scarce this year, so prices have shot up. Shopkeeper Jin offered a good sum—he’ll resell them for even more. We’re lucky to have this opportunity.”

Chunfu nodded: “I’ll go with you.”

Jicheng shook his head: “Stay home. I need to go deeper today. We should gather as much as we can—this windfall won’t last.”

For once, Chunfu didn’t argue. Instead, she told him about the Pei family’s visit. Everyone had seen them—who knew what rumors would spread?

Jicheng frowned briefly, then relaxed: “No matter. Refusing was the right call. They’re worlds apart from us—no need for further contact. Let the villagers talk. As for your sister-in-law, she saw we took nothing. She won’t dare cause trouble.”

Chunfu sighed: “I see clearly now—peace won’t come easy. I’m not afraid for myself, but Zhang Yan… As his aunt, I can’t bear it.” Her eyes reddened: “They’re monsters. How could they say such things to a child? I want to bring him here—better than suffering under them.”

Jicheng nodded: “I’ll support you. But will your sister-in-law allow it? People like her only tolerate their own cruelty, not others’ interference. Openly meddling might backfire—what if they abuse him worse? Unless they abandon him themselves, we’d only earn resentment.”

Chunfu knew he was right. Their seemingly happy life was always tangled with unresolved matters—trivial at first, but snowballing over time. Part of her wished she could be cold and selfish, focusing only on their own happiness. Yet when faced with injustice, she couldn’t stay idle.

Seeing her troubled expression, Jicheng stroked her hair: “Don’t overthink. Zhang Yan’s clever—he won’t endure abuse forever. Invite him over often, let him eat here during his growing years…”

They both knew his parents’ home was poor, with little to eat after saving for Zhang Tong’s tuition. Memories of her own past flashed through Chunfu’s mind—meals worse than scraps, unfit for humans.

After Jicheng left for the mountains, Chunfu sat lost in thought. Dabao, now in his mischievous phase, dashed about chewing everything, occasionally yelping after crashing into furniture. She chuckled—what difference was there between a puppy and a child? Busy as she was, the house felt empty in quiet moments.

The days were growing longer. She felt she’d sat forever before dusk finally fell. Rising to collect the sun-warmed laundry, she had just bolted the door when knocking startled her. Steadying herself, she called: “Who is it?”

The knocking paused before a wheedling voice answered: “Sister-in-law, why bolt the door so early? Is Jicheng home? I’ve something to discuss. Let me in to wait—alright?”

Chunfu’s stomach turned. It was Jikun, the cousin who’d gambled away his family’s fortune. She carried the laundry inside without hurry, finally replying: “It’s late. Come back tomorrow.”

Jikun had watched Jicheng leave for the mountains—otherwise, he’d never dare knock. Lately, a restless heat had plagued him, an itch he couldn’t scratch. He knew others would scorn him, but he couldn’t resist. With her alone at home, he had so much to say.

“We’re family—you can’t just shut me out. How embarrassing if someone sees. If Jicheng’s not here, we can chat, can’t we? Open up.”

Chunfu sat cross-legged on the kang, folding clothes riddled with holes from Jicheng’s labor. Seeing their light and dark garments stacked together, she smiled faintly. Jikun’s words faded into background noise.

Frustrated, Jikun prattled on, boasting of his virtues: “Answer me! Am I not as handsome as Jicheng? I’m stronger—I’d treat you better. Just say something!”

“I know it’s shameless, but I’ve fancied you since we first met. I refused every match my parents proposed.”

“Chunfu, I truly adore you.”

Between pleas, he tapped the door lightly, hoping to sway her. His boldness stemmed from knowing village women seldom spoke up after being wronged. With some pressure, surely she’d yield. But as he droned on, Chunfu dozed off to the rhythm of his knocking.

Night deepened, yet the woman inside remained unmoved. Fear of Jicheng’s return crept in, sharpening Jikun’s tone: “If you agree, meet me tomorrow in the grove behind the village.”

His words were cut short by a brutal blow to his back, pain shooting through him like lightning.

“You—”

Jicheng, worried about leaving Chunfu alone, had worked swiftly, luckily finding a herb-rich clearing early. Returning to hear such filth from his own cousin ignited rare fury. Years of restraint shattered—this was worse than Wang Bo’s harassment.

“Who dares skulk here? Need a beating to wake up?” Jicheng rained blows without mercy, driving Jikun to cower and beg.

“Stop! Jicheng… I’m your cousin!”

Chunfu jolted awake at the screams. Recognizing Jicheng’s voice, she rushed outside to find the Liansheng couple already there, asking: “Thieves again?”

Jicheng answered loudly, unashamed: “Worse—a lecherous scoundrel.”

Jikun, still healing from past injuries, now bore fresh wounds. Peeking at Jicheng’s blazing eyes and heaving chest, he whimpered: “You’ve beaten me enough, surely? Please don’t tell anyone—how could I face anyone after this?”

Liansheng’s wife spat: “Shameless! Brave enough to act, too cowardly to own it? At your age, such disgrace!”

Liansheng sighed: “With strangers, you could raise hell. But you’re kin—a scandal helps no one. This beating should teach him.” Noting Jicheng’s lingering rage, he added softly: “Calm down—you look ready to kill. Don’t frighten Chunfu.”

Chunfu had stayed inside until the violence ceased. Seeing Jikun’s injuries weren’t life-threatening, she was satisfied—the man deserved this lesson.

Jicheng took deep breaths, quelling his anger before addressing the Lianshengs: “Sorry for disturbing you. Please rest—I’ll handle this.”

As they left, Liansheng’s wife called back: “Chunfu, go inside. This trash isn’t worth your eyes.”

Chunfu smiled and nodded. When Jicheng gestured for her to return, she asked: “What about you?”

Dragging Jikun up by his collar, Jicheng growled: “I’m delivering him to Second Uncle. Let him see what a son he raised—a thief of women’s virtue. Go back—I’ll call when I return.”

The night breeze lifted her hair as she turned, its dark waves mesmerizing. Jicheng’s eyes narrowed—who dared covet such beauty? He’d fight to the death to protect her. Shoving Jikun forward, he ignored the man’s limping protests:

“Jicheng, I’m your elder cousin—don’t push it.”

“I never knew my parents had such a son. Think hard about how to explain yourself to Second Uncle—I won’t go easy.”