Chapter 55:

In the blink of an eye, the ground was already conquered by the rain, thoroughly drenching those who couldn’t find shelter in time. Chunfu explained her purpose to the servant of the Pei household, and since everyone knew the second young master had once been helped by a young woman named Chunfu, they treated her with great courtesy.

“Our young master returned to Yicheng seven days ago. The eldest young master is still here, but he was pulled out early by friends to see a newly built house.”

The glimmer of hope in Chunfu’s heart sank abruptly. Lowering her eyes, she smiled awkwardly at the servant. “In that case, I’ll take my leave.”

The servant called out to Chunfu, who was about to step into the rain, and handed her an oil-paper umbrella from behind the door. “The rain is heavy, young lady. Take this to avoid catching a chill.”

Chunfu opened the umbrella and turned back with a smile. “Thank you, brother.”

Yet inwardly, she couldn’t help but mock herself. Even heaven refused to help her. Though she knew life couldn’t always be smooth sailing, she still felt a pang of disappointment when faced with such a situation. The rain drummed loudly against the umbrella as she walked to the Jin family’s shop. After a moment’s thought, she decided to look for Jicheng. With such heavy rain, what if he fell ill? She worried too much, forgetting that Jicheng always carried a raincoat.

To her surprise, as she approached the construction site, she saw a crowd gathered, and an angry voice rang out: “Jicheng, I hired you as foreman because I thought you were reliable. Is this how you repay my trust?”

Chunfu hurried forward and saw a collapsed wall with a gaping hole. She had seen Jicheng work before—he was meticulous and never careless. What could have gone wrong? Anxious, she glanced toward the source of the voice and saw the eldest young master of the Pei family standing calmly to the side. Their eyes met, and he smirked at her with a roguish grin.

Chunfu had no time for him. She walked to the collapsed wall and examined it but found no obvious cause. The rain had washed away the mud from the bricks. Yesterday’s sun had dried the mortar almost completely, so even heavy rain couldn’t have eroded much. Some bricks had only a thin layer of mud, now entirely washed off.

Zhou Jing couldn’t hold back. “Jicheng wasn’t even here yesterday—he took leave with the head steward. You can’t blame him entirely for this. The fault lies with those who worked on the wall yesterday.”

Jicheng motioned for him to stop and said firmly, “I failed in my supervision, and I accept whatever punishment the boss decides. But after working here so long without a single mistake, and with all the craftsmen being experienced, you all know better than anyone what really happened.”

The workers who had built the wall yesterday grew indignant. “Building a wall isn’t rocket science. If it collapsed, who’s to blame?” Their words were defensive—after years of craftsmanship, being doubted like this was hard to swallow.

Chunfu’s knuckles turned white from gripping the umbrella handle. Seeing Jicheng surrounded by the crowd, her heart ached. He looked so vulnerable, surely filled with helplessness and frustration. She wanted to stand beside him, to tell him she’d always be there no matter what. Just as she took a step forward, a cold, mocking voice came from behind: “A wall can collapse if someone wants it to. Did your Jicheng offend someone?”

Turning, she was surprised to see Zhao Yun, Jinjuan’s brother-in-law. “Do you know who did this?” she asked urgently.

Zhao Yun had witnessed everything the day before but hadn’t intervened since it wasn’t his concern. Now, only because of Jinjuan’s friendship with Chunfu, did he step in.

Jicheng stood tall, meeting the boss’s uncertain gaze. He trusted the man would make the right judgment. The craftsmen, feeling wronged, demanded evidence—accusations couldn’t be thrown around carelessly.

Zhou Jing and Liansheng had been assigned to build a two-story wooden structure in the courtyard yesterday and hadn’t come down all day. If they’d caught the culprit, they’d have taught them a lesson. A properly built wall wouldn’t collapse from rain alone. Zhou Jing spat, “Some heartless bastard couldn’t stand others doing well. Hope your roof caves in and crushes you in your sleep!”

People usually avoided Zhou Jing—he was easygoing but sharp-tongued, never mincing words. They often mocked him for his crush on Miss An, but few dared confront him directly. Jicheng, on the other hand, was quiet, speaking little, making him an easy target. Now, with him shifting blame onto them, resentment grew.

Pei Qian, having nothing better to do, had accompanied Boss Luo to inspect the house. The Pei family had helped Luo greatly, so staying in his property was no issue. Unlike his father, who stuck to old business principles, Pei Qian believed in ruthless pragmatism—never missing what was rightfully his. Originally, Pei Er was to stay in Changfeng County to establish their tea house and restaurant, but a letter arrived—their grandmother had fallen ill and wanted Pei Er by her side. So Pei Qian stayed instead.

Petting Runiang’s head, he lazily remarked, “Boss Luo, blaming Jicheng makes no sense. The wall collapsed—find those who built it. He wasn’t even here yesterday. Isn’t there a head steward? Was he absent too?”

The head steward, who had stayed out of it, panicked at being named. “The young master is right. It was my oversight. But with so much to manage, I was busy with the Changwan Pavilion and neglected this. Who knew they’d slack off?”

Pei Qian smirked at Boss Luo. “Your men have sharp tongues.”

Boss Luo chuckled. “Jicheng was recommended to me. Quiet, but diligent and capable. Fine, I’m not blaming anyone. Who worked on the wall yesterday? Step forward.”

Zhao Yun, wearing a raincoat, laughed. “As they say, justice lies in the hearts of men. Bosses have sharp eyes, but their favor leans toward Jicheng.”

Chunfu’s tension eased, but who had tried to frame Jicheng? The workers who built the wall stepped forward—none familiar. Jicheng wasn’t one to provoke trouble, so why target him? Their earlier tone didn’t suggest troublemakers.

Zhao Yun, seeing Chunfu’s frown, chuckled. “I’ll meddle just this once.” Ignoring her confusion, he stepped forward and teased, “Brother Chenniu, why hide? I saw you working on the wall yesterday—more diligent than these masters.”

Chenniu had thought causing trouble would earn him three taels from Ji Kun. He hadn’t expected such important guests to inspect the site. Had he waited a few days, he wouldn’t be caught now. Hoping silence would save him, Zhao Yun’s interference ruined his plan. Under everyone’s scrutiny, he felt exposed. Seeing Jicheng’s fury, he shrank back.

Jicheng, furious, grabbed his collar. “If someone had been walking here today, they’d be dead. Could you live with that? I thought you were just lazy, cutting corners—not malicious. If you have a grudge, take it out on me. Why do something so vile?”

Cornered, Chenniu confessed, “Ji Kun paid me three taels to sabotage you. I was greedy—I’m sorry. Please forgive me.”

Boss Luo’s anger flared. A collapsed wall was trivial, but personal vendettas endangered lives. Such malice couldn’t be tolerated. He coldly addressed the head steward: “Where did you find this scum? If someone had died, I’d be apologizing to the magistrate.”

The steward, fearing punishment, stammered, “He supplied our lumber. We had ties—I couldn’t refuse. I never thought he’d be so vile.” He kicked Chenniu. “Get out! No one will hire trash like you.”

Defeated, Chenniu slumped. His scheme had backfired—no silver, and now jobless.

Boss Luo waved dismissively. “Find another supplier. The unpaid silver will cover repairs for Young Master Pei’s wall. If I hear of such negligence again, you’re fired.” With that, he and Pei Qian left in their carriage.

The steward, relieved, turned to Chenniu still on the ground and beat him savagely. Wiping sweat, he warned the workers: “Go home. Anyone else scheming won’t last here.”

As the crowd dispersed, Chunfu wanted to thank Zhao Yun, but he’d already left. She rushed to Jicheng—thankfully, they had shelter. Standing in the rain so long would’ve made them sick.

Jicheng smiled softly. “Did you see him? Did he agree?”

Chunfu sighed. “No, he’s gone back to Yicheng. I’ll find another way. I won’t let those wild fruit trees become firewood by winter.”

Jicheng chuckled, his anger fading. He’d settle accounts with Ji Kun later. Liansheng shook his head at Chenniu. “What were you thinking? If Ji Kun told you to cut off someone’s head, would you? He’s slick—you’d help him count the money after he sold you. Go home—Third Uncle’s waiting.”

Chenniu struggled to his feet, wincing. “That bastard Ji Kun won’t get away with this. He and that whore cuckolded me, played me for a fool. If he doesn’t explain, I’ll kill him.” He didn’t see Liansheng or the others as allies. Glaring at Jicheng, he limped away. The rain, with no shelter, might at least clear his head.

Liansheng patted Jicheng’s shoulder. “Let’s go. This rain won’t stop soon.”

Jicheng took out a raincoat from his basket for Chunfu, then held the umbrella, letting rain soak one shoulder as he waved Zhou Jing off and stepped into the downpour. Zhou Jing, meeting An Yuning later, envied their closeness. He sighed. Would that stubborn woman ever soften? He felt she cared but didn’t understand her coldness.

As the meeting time neared, his anxiety grew. She’d chosen the town’s finest restaurant—his shabby clothes didn’t belong there. She knew how to wound him, making him resent yet adore her.

Chunfu, shielded by Jicheng, still felt the rain sting her face. Pressed against him, listening to his heartbeat, the journey felt bearable. Yet by midnight, her throat burned, her head throbbed—she’d caught a chill, struggling to breathe. Jicheng, drenched too, had washed with hot water and drunk ginger tea, now sound asleep.

Not wanting to wake him, she lay still. The rain had stopped—she didn’t know when. Soon, she drifted back into feverish sleep.

At dawn, Jicheng woke to find her flushed. Touching her forehead, he realized she had a fever. Wetting a cloth, he placed it on her brow and gently shook her awake. “Don’t sleep yet. I’ll fetch Doctor Han.”

Doctor Han, just risen, hurried back with him. The sky remained gloomy, threatening more rain. Washed clean, the plants stood vibrant, leaves rustling in the wind. Jicheng, now feeling the cold, rubbed his arms but smiled as they walked.

“She went to town with me yesterday. The sudden rain must’ve chilled her. Now she’s burning up—likely a cold, but I’d feel better if you checked.”

Doctor Han nodded. “Fevers in this weather are miserable. Don’t worry—if it’s mild, two doses should fix it.” He paused. “Jicheng, Ji Liang’s been collecting medicine alone lately. Did they quarrel? I shouldn’t meddle, but that stubborn fool needs sense knocked into him. Qiaoyun’s a good wife—don’t let Ji Er ruin their marriage.”

Jicheng thought for a moment. “I can’t control others, nor do I want to. Ji Liang’s grown. My words won’t change him. I wish he’d wake up, but he won’t listen.”

Doctor Han sighed. “Ji Er’s a curse. Brothers shouldn’t feud like this. Well, only Ji Liang can fix this. If he stays stubborn, he’s hopeless.”

Back home, Jicheng smiled at Chunfu struggling to keep her watery eyes open. Despite exhaustion, she’d obeyed, not sleeping—her gaze warmed his heart.

Doctor Han confirmed his diagnosis. “I have medicine meant for my nephew. I’ll prepare more later—brew this now.” Trusting Jicheng, he turned to leave.

Jicheng tucked Chunfu in and stopped him, paying upfront. “No need to delay, Doctor Han.”

The doctor accepted gratefully. Outside, he glanced back. With rising medicine costs, many avoided treatment unless desperate. Jicheng’s tender look at Chunfu and his readiness to pay spoke volumes—their life was clearly happy.

In the kitchen, Jicheng brewed the medicine and brought her hot water first. The drink soothed her dry throat, and she rasped, “I’m dying. My nose is blocked.” Pinching it, she looked adorably pitiful.

Jicheng stroked her sweat-damp hair. “The medicine will help soon.”

She grimaced. “Must I? It’s so bitter.” Then, remembering the cost, sighed. “Fine. Waste not.”

He tapped her nose. “I didn’t expect you there earlier. Seeing me humiliated felt shameful. But when you stood by me, I realized—their opinions don’t matter. As long as you see me as I am, that’s enough.”

She pressed his calloused hand to her cheek. “I knew you’d never do such things. To me, you’re pure.”

He pulled her into an embrace, foreheads touching. “Not as good as you think.”