Chunfu had been standing for so long that her legs were numb, and she was just about to turn and leave when she inadvertently met Zhou Jing’s peach-blossom eyes. His dark, bright pupils shimmered with light, scattering like golden rays from the sky. She watched as he patted Jicheng’s shoulder and whispered something in his ear with a laugh. Jicheng turned his head toward her.
He wiped the sweat from his forehead and grinned at her, his neat white teeth gleaming brightly, his entire being radiating an unshakable warmth. He gestured to the side, and once Chunfu understood, he turned back to his work.
Chunfu sat down where he had placed his basket, idly watching the passersby on the street. Not far from the estate was a jewelry shop, renowned for its exquisite craftsmanship. It was said that young ladies from wealthy families frequented the place—certainly not somewhere someone like her could enter. A faint smile touched her lips as she saw a beautiful woman in a rose-red dress step out. Upon closer inspection, wasn’t that Axiu, the girl who had once visited their home looking for Jicheng? Though it shouldn’t matter, an uncomfortable feeling twisted in her chest. Just like any man wouldn’t want his woman coveted by others, she didn’t like the idea of Jicheng being on another woman’s mind.
Chunfu shifted slightly and lowered her gaze, but to her surprise, Axiu said something to the refined, scholarly-looking man beside her and walked straight over, making Chunfu feel petty in comparison.
Axiu glanced at the man standing under the scorching sun and let out a light, melodious laugh. “Don’t worry, I’m not pining for him. Why would I, when I’m about to marry? My fiancé is far more capable—educated, literate, and earns a respectable living. Not like Jicheng, toiling in the dirt all day or baking under the sun on that scaffold. I’m used to a comfortable life—how could I endure such hardship? Tell your man to steer clear of me in the future, or I won’t be polite.”
Chunfu understood immediately. Axiu’s words were a clear sign she hadn’t truly moved on. A woman belittling Jicheng like this was just trying to reassure herself. Only by convincing herself she was making the right choice could she move forward. Instantly, Chunfu’s discomfort faded. After all, Jicheng was hers—no one could take him away.
“Have you set a date? You seem blessed—your future will surely be smooth.”
Axiu’s anger deflated at Chunfu’s words. She awkwardly averted her gaze and coughed lightly. “The sixteenth of July. We planned for next year, but he insisted on moving it up. Anyway, I won’t keep you. I should go.” She hurried away, her face still flushed when she reached her fiancé, annoyed at herself for losing her temper when she had meant to stay composed.
The refined man beside her asked softly, “What’s wrong? Did someone upset you?”
Axiu shot him an impatient look. “It’s nothing. Let’s just go.”
The man’s smile faltered, but he said nothing more. He could tell Axiu didn’t respect him—she had only agreed to marry him because his circumstances were acceptable. But after waiting so long for a match, he didn’t care if she didn’t love him. As long as they could live together, seeing her was enough.
As for romance, Axiu had merely picked up a few poetic lines from the young ladies in town—phrases like “In heaven, we’d be birds flying wing to wing; on earth, branches intertwined,” or “I envy the mandarin ducks, not the immortals.” She recited them thoughtlessly, and when he responded line by line, she coldly claimed she’d never heard them. His heartfelt affection had fallen on a woman who couldn’t appreciate it.
The shop assistant packed Chunfu’s purchases into the basket, exchanged a few words with Jin Liuer, and left. With business slow, he could head home early—a luxury he wouldn’t have once things picked up. After chatting a bit more with Jin Liuer, Chunfu left with Jicheng.
The streets were filled with people hurrying home, their shadows stretching long under the setting sun, making the scene seem even busier. Chunfu hugged the fabric she had bought and smiled at Jicheng. “We won’t have to work so hard from now on. I’ll learn needlework from Liansheng’s wife—there’ll be plenty of days ahead where I can make our own clothes. Self-reliance means plenty.”
Jicheng adjusted the heavy basket on his back and gently stroked her hair. “That’s good. Saves me from patching my own clothes—I always make a mess of it.”
Third Uncle and Liansheng, already accustomed to waiting, leaned against a stone pillar, chatting idly. When they saw Jicheng and Chunfu approaching, they stood up to leave. Cenniu, who had been lying on the cart, reluctantly sat up, his face and new clothes covered in dust. He scowled and complained, “Who do you think you are, making everyone wait? Hurry up—I’m starving.”
Chunfu, sensitive to criticism, flushed red. If not for her, Jicheng would have been ready to leave earlier. She murmured apologetically, “I’m sorry for holding everyone up.”
Jicheng helped her onto the cart and patted her back reassuringly before sitting down himself. “Third Uncle, let’s go.”
Third Uncle gave a cheerful “Right!” and flicked the reins. The cart lurched forward, the clatter of hooves and wheels filling the air. Cenniu curled his lip and shrank back, his stomach growling. His sharp eyes caught a corner of a bag peeking out from Jicheng’s basket—it looked like the fine flour sacks from the grain shop. The more he stared, the surer he became. Envy gnawed at him—he hadn’t tasted fine flour in years. Jicheng had just come from the grain shop, hadn’t he? He sneered, “Heard you’re earning more than the rest of us, Jicheng. Living the high life, huh? Even eating fine flour now.”
Normally, Jicheng packed his own purchases, but Manager Jin had delayed him, and the careless assistant had stuffed everything in haphazardly. Still, Chunfu’s efforts would become known sooner or later. Glancing at her and seeing no discomfort on her face, he chuckled. “Before marriage, I could scrape by alone. But now there’s someone else to care for—can’t cut corners anymore. Gotta take better care.”
Those who understood knew Jicheng was mocking Cenniu’s neglect of his family. Cenniu, oblivious, turned away and muttered under his breath—though the wind carried his words: “Treating a woman like some treasure. Women are fickle—wait till she runs off with a rich man. See if she remembers your kindness then.” The thought of his own wife’s recent audacity made his blood boil. He’d caught her cheating, yet she acted like she was doing the family a favor. He’d teach her a lesson when he got home.
After a bumpy ride, the cart finally stopped by the old locust tree, and their wandering hearts settled at last. Jicheng hoisted the basket and reached to help Chunfu down, but Cenniu, still fuming, bumped into her. If not for Jicheng’s quick reflexes, she would have tumbled off.
Jicheng’s patience with Cenniu had reached its limit. After making sure Chunfu was steady, he moved to confront the retreating man, but Chunfu grabbed his arm. “Let it go,” she urged. “He didn’t mean it. It’s late—let’s just go home and cook.”
Cenniu had been sitting close to Third Uncle, who had overheard his muttering. With a sigh, he reassured Jicheng, “Your wife’s right. Don’t stoop to his level. He’s been on edge lately—the rumors are eating him alive. If only he had half his father’s sense, he wouldn’t be in this mess. Anyway, enough about him. Let’s all head back.”
Under their persuasion, the anger in Jicheng’s chest gradually subsided. He now understood that Chunfu was the string tied to his heart—others could belittle him all they wanted, but harming her was absolutely unacceptable. Liansheng walked back with them and lightened the mood with a jest: “Jicheng, you’ve become even more protective since getting married. Among all of us men, you dote on your wife the most. If I don’t learn from you, my wife will surely scold me.”
Chunfu blushed and glanced at Jicheng. His eyes were full of laughter, the sharp lines of his face softened.
Meanwhile, Cenniu entered his courtyard to find his mother slumped against the jujube tree, sighing heavily. Seeing no sign of Chunjü, his face darkened. “Ma, what’s wrong?”
Old Lady Cen straightened and jabbed his forehead. “Look at the fine wife you brought home! Her temper grows by the day. Now she won’t feed the pigs or cook—what, am I supposed to wait on you in my old age? What sin did I commit to deserve this? Years of marriage, and not even an egg to show for it! How will I face the ancestors? Blind as I was, I let you marry this shameless woman who’s disgraced our family! How am I supposed to live like this?”
Cenniu’s suppressed rage flared anew. Just as he was about to storm out, Chunjü sauntered in, her eyes bright with mischief. Suppressing his fury, he snapped, “Where’ve you been? The whole family’s starving—don’t you care?”
Chunjü scoffed and brushed past him. “You know exactly where I was. Look at you—like some refugee. You—” Her words cut off as he yanked her hair back violently, making her scalp burn. She arched her back, pleading, “What’s gotten into you?”
Cenniu shoved her hand away, his voice dripping with venom. “Luo Chunjü, who knew you were such a filthy whore? Cheating on me—what a fine cuckold you’ve made me! Lucky I’ve got thick skin, or I’d have snapped when Liansheng mocked me to my face. I’d rather swallow bitter herbs than endure this. I ought to beat you to death.”
Chunjü, seeing the murderous look in his eyes, knew no sweet talk would save her now. But with someone backing her, she fired back, “So I’m the villain? When I married you, I was pure! If I didn’t want this life, why would I have endured this long? Ask yourself—how much have you ever provided? I begged my family for scraps, taking whatever they’d spare until they shut the door on me. When was the last time we ate meat? My clothes are rags—do you know how humiliating that is among other wives? I act tough outside because I’m afraid of being looked down on. If I were meek like Chunfu, I’d have been trampled long ago!”
Tears streamed down her face as she ranted, “Don’t blame me for forgetting our vows—you failed as a man to keep me. When you had money, did you ever think of this family? You hoarded every penny, made me beg your mother like a dog for scraps. Who lives like this?”
Cenniu’s grip loosened slightly—until her next words made him tighten it again. “And don’t forget—your job came from me begging Jikun. Cross me, and I’ll have you out on the street tomorrow.”
Old Lady Cen cut in coldly, “A cheating harlot still acting high and mighty—shameless. Fine. Our family can’t keep a wife like you. We won’t stop you from chasing your ‘better life.’ Tomorrow, we’ll get the divorce papers. Consider Cenniu’s job repayment for your ‘kindness.’”
Seeing his mother’s resolve, Cenniu beat Chunjü savagely, snarling, “Hear that? Think you’re so precious? Even if I break your legs today, Jikun wouldn’t dare say a word. A cheap woman like you—you think he actually wants you? Get in there and cook. Next time you’re late, I’ll kill you.”
Though he now despised Chunjü, he sensed Jikun’s involvement wasn’t over. Whether Jikun truly fancied her or just tossed her coins, he’d milk the situation dry before discarding her.
Chunjü was no fool. Fear gripped her—if Cenniu divorced her, she’d have nowhere to go. Jikun would never marry her; his parents were no pushovers. Her only choice was to placate Cenniu and her mother-in-law.
From then on, the three harbored their own schemes beneath a fragile peace—a calm surface masking a coming storm.
As for Jikun, a bachelor had nothing to lose. Tightening his belt for a bit of fun was no hardship. The woman was gullible—did she really think he’d stay? But Cenniu, the fool, was useful. Planting him at the worksite was a small favor to an old friend. Once Cenniu settled in, he’d be the perfect tool to deal with Jicheng.
Jikun’s parents were at their wits’ end. With money in hand, their son ran wild, snapping at their scoldings until they felt guilty for reprimanding him. But his behavior was inexcusable. They’d asked matchmakers to find brides, but families nearby refused outright upon hearing Jikun’s name. Venturing farther yielded no luck—no one was fooled. A man seeking a wife from distant villages was clearly trouble. Rejection after rejection left them gray-haired with worry.
As they sat in the courtyard discussing options, Jikun stumbled in, disheveled. His father’s mustache quivered with rage. “Think the village is blind? You’ve shamed our family! Are fresh, virtuous girls not good enough for you? Must you wallow with that Luo Chunjü?”
Jikun waved him off, laughing. “Dad, don’t believe gossip. Ma, I’m hungry—is dinner ready?”
His mother glared but stood. “Not a penny from you, yet you expect me to wait on you? Since when is life so easy for Jikun?” Grumbling, she headed to the kitchen.
His father gripped his pipe and sighed. “You’re hopeless. Your mother and I just want you settled with a decent wife. Cut ties with Chunjü—our family’s reputation matters.”
Jikun shrugged. “Who cares? After Jicheng’s mess, this is nothing. Don’t worry—I’m not blind. Chunjü’s beneath me. Now, someone like Chunfu—that’d be worth pursuing. Relax, I know what I’m doing.”
His father frowned. “Don’t you dare. Jicheng’s your cousin—go too far, and how do I face your uncle? And why didn’t you let Jiliang take some food last time? We can’t finish it all—such a waste.”
At Jiliang’s mention, Jikun’s face darkened. “I’d rather feed dogs than him. Can’t stand the sight of him.”
His father opened his mouth but, seeing his son’s expression, let it go.
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