Chapter 58:

Jicheng and Chunfu had just returned home when the rain began to patter down. Chunfu patted her chest, her small lips curling slightly. “If we’d been any slower, we’d have been drenched again, and all that medicine I drank would’ve been for nothing.”

Jicheng brought over a warm bowl of vegetable porridge from the stove, pulling her back into the inner room with one hand. “You haven’t eaten a bite after sleeping so long. Have some while it’s hot. For now, you can only eat light food. Once you’re better, I’ll make you something else—grilled fish. I learned it from a chef in town.”

Chunfu reached out to take the bowl, but he dodged her, pretending he was going to feed her. She pouted in protest. “If I waited for you to feed me, I’d have starved to death by now.” Then, cautiously studying his expression, she asked in a low voice, “Are you upset? Jiliang…”

Jicheng looked up and smiled at her, shaking his head. “I’m not angry. What’s there to be angry about? I told you long ago he’s like a dog—see, wasn’t I right? Let’s see how he deals with this mess. Qiaoyun is such a good person, yet he kept making trouble. Now, let’s see what he does. Anyway, from now on, their business is none of our concern, so let’s not bring it up again.”

Even without asking, the whole village knew what had happened by the next morning. Qiaoyun left the village head’s house and headed straight for her parents’ home. But halfway there, the rain started pouring, blurring her vision. The already muddy road became even more slippery. Despite being careful, she stepped on a smooth pebble and fell flat on her back. The pain was overwhelming. Luckily, a childhood friend from the village happened to pass by and carried her home—otherwise, she might not have survived.

Her brother and mother were chatting under the eaves when they saw her being carried back, her clothes stained with blood. Their faces paled in shock. Qiaoyun had endured the pain the entire way, but only upon seeing her family did she dare close her eyes. Her brother shouted for his wife to come help, instructed their mother, and then rushed off to fetch the doctor.

In her daze, Qiaoyun felt a warm sensation slowly spreading from her face downward, soothing her trembling, chilled heart. She didn’t sleep long. When she woke, she saw the village doctor, Niu, sitting beside her, frowning. “You’ve been overworked, and your body is weak. Even without this fall, the baby might not have survived. How did a perfectly healthy child end up like this?”

She closed her eyes again, avoiding the inevitable questions. Her mother, eyes red with worry, asked, “Doctor Niu, will Qiaoyun suffer any lasting effects? This is truly a tragedy. How did my good daughter end up like this? It must be the Ji family’s fault. How could Jiliang let Qiaoyun come back alone?”

Her brother, furious, chimed in, “Jiliang listens to his parents. He never wanted anything to do with us, and even when Qiaoyun came home, she couldn’t stay long—just a sip of water before rushing back. I tolerated it before for my sister’s sake, but this time, they won’t get off so easily.”

Doctor Niu stood up with a sigh. “It’s not too bad. Take some medicine to regulate your body. Just remember—no anger or worry. That’s the only way to recover quickly.”

After her brother saw the doctor out, Qiaoyun sat up. Her plain face was pale and weak. Before her mother or brother could ask, she confessed, “I don’t want to stay with Jiliang anymore. Brother, don’t despise me or chase me away, okay? I’ll work hard.”

They knew exactly what kind of man Jiliang was. Her brother took a deep breath. “What nonsense are you saying? If you don’t want to go back, then don’t. I can take care of you. The world won’t stop turning without Jiliang. Listen to Doctor Niu—don’t dwell on things. Focus on recovering. If Jiliang shows up, I won’t hold back.”

Qiaoyun couldn’t help but smile. Jiliang wouldn’t come. He always obeyed his father—would he dare defy him now? What kind of man had she fallen for? Even she despised him, yet she couldn’t let go. She had given her all, only to end up like this. If she went back now, what kind of life would that be?

But to everyone’s surprise, Jiliang did come—braving the rain. He didn’t dare enter, just stood outside the house calling out, his voice thick with regret.

Her brother, seething with anger, flung the curtain aside and pointed at Jiliang’s nose. “My sister never looked down on you, even though you’re half a cripple. She worked tirelessly to earn money and build a life with you. And this is how you repay her? Jiliang, have you no conscience? Ask yourself—have you treated her right? As her brother, I held back before, afraid you’d take it out on her. But this time, even if she wanted to stay with you, I wouldn’t allow it. She lost the baby on her way home—covered in blood, barely a month along. The doctor said she was overworked, her body too weak—the baby might not have survived anyway. As her brother, it breaks my heart. Your family doesn’t care, but we do.”

Jiliang’s already scarred heart shattered. He and Qiaoyun had longed for a child for so long. If he hadn’t ruined his health, she wouldn’t have suffered like this. It was all his fault—he had destroyed their happy life. Rain streamed down his face, fracturing his voice. “Brother, I know I was wrong. We agreed—this was the last time I’d get involved with my father’s affairs. From now on, no matter what happens, I won’t interfere. Just let me see her once. We didn’t fight—I can’t let Qiaoyun stay with her parents forever. When she comes back, she can punish me however she wants. Please, give me one more chance. I’ll treat her right.”

Qiaoyun’s brother spat in his face, teeth clenched. “How dare you say that? Why would I let my sister go back to suffer with you? You’re already half a cripple—you’ll depend on others for the rest of your life. My sister can’t take care of you anymore. Marry someone who can. You’ve hurt her enough. Do her a favor—let her have a few good days.”

Jiliang’s heart burned with desperation. A voice inside him roared: *Don’t agree. Don’t soften. Don’t let Qiaoyun go.* Only now did he realize Qiaoyun was his only lifeline—his very life. He shook his head with effort, pleading, “Brother, they say it’s better to tear down ten temples than break a marriage. Qiaoyun and I have been married for years. We’ve always been happy. Don’t let this ruin us. I’ll make it up to her—double. I’ll work hard to give her a good life.”

Her brother was about to scold him again when Qiaoyun, who should have been resting in bed, slowly walked out. Their mother didn’t follow—clearly unwilling to see her son-in-law. In just a few years, Jiliang had broken all their hearts. No one wanted to hear his apologies.

Her brother turned to Qiaoyun, voice heavy. “If you go back with him, don’t step foot in this house again. We can’t bear to see you suffer. You’ve worried over him, worn yourself out for him—what did it get you? Wake up.”

Qiaoyun gave her brother a weak smile. “Don’t worry, Brother. I know what I’m doing.” She looked at Jiliang, drenched in the rain, and her heart ached. “Why do this? You’re already sick—what if you catch a cold? From now on, take care of yourself. Stop worrying about others. Did they even glance at you when you were ill? Jiliang, you always thought I was the villain, that I ruined your relationship with your parents. I just pitied you. They treated you like a fool… Never mind. I won’t see it anymore. Do as you please. The rain won’t stop soon—go home before it gets worse. We’ll settle things with the village head when the weather clears. I’m not feeling well—I’m going back inside.”

It was the first time Jiliang had heard Qiaoyun speak so softly, as if all her strength had been drained. She sounded fragile—unlike herself. His throat tightened. “You really won’t come back with me? What I said that day was true—it really was the last time.”

Qiaoyun shook her head, smiling. “Jiliang, not all women are as patient as me, waiting for you to change. I don’t want to live like this anymore. I don’t want to resign myself to fate—what kind of life is that? I don’t want to hear you anymore. Living with you is exhausting. I want to live a few more years—just let me go.”

Jiliang watched as she turned and walked inside without looking back. The door closed behind her, severing their last connection. He squeezed his eyes shut, unsure if the wetness on his face was rain or tears.

When he returned home, he fell into a feverish haze, barely conscious until someone shook him awake. “Jiliang, how did you get so sick? You’re soaked—how could you sleep like this?”

It was the first time he’d heard his mother sound so concerned. With effort, he opened his eyes, voice hoarse. “What’s wrong?” He couldn’t just sleep forever. He had to get better. If he could earn enough to give Qiaoyun a good life, maybe she’d come back.

“Everything’s a mess at home. Your father and brother are injured, and that shameless Chunju won’t leave. Come with me—we’ll drive her out.” His mother’s face twisted with hatred.

Jiliang shook his head, pouring himself a bowl of water to soothe his dry throat. “Mother, I can barely take care of myself. Handle it however you want. I need to fix my own life first. Just go.”

His mother grew frantic, slapping his shoulder. “What nonsense are you saying? Come with me now!” She tried to drag him, but he pushed her away.

Like a pot overflowing with rage, he snapped. His eyes burned red, teeth clenched, face fierce. “I said leave me alone! Didn’t you hear? Your real son is back—what am I? Have you ever once asked how I’m doing? I took the beating meant for Jikun—now I’m half a cripple. Did you ever care? How am I supposed to live from now on? Just because I didn’t complain doesn’t mean I deserved this. Only Qiaoyun tried to save me, and I kept hurting her for your sake. I’m a bastard. Isn’t half my life enough? From now on, let people curse me for being unfilial—I don’t care.”

His mother jabbed his forehead furiously. “Ungrateful wretch! We raised you, and this is how you repay us? Just wait—when your father recovers, see how you explain yourself!”

Jiliang watched as she disappeared into the rain, then collapsed into the only chair in the room, laughing bitterly. He had given them everything—nearly his life—and still, it wasn’t enough. Why had he ever feared them? What was a beating? Let them kill him if they dared. He had nothing left to lose.

The realization came too late. There was no turning back. He wouldn’t let things end like this with Qiaoyun—he wouldn’t go to the village head. She could stay with her parents as long as she wanted. Every month, he’d send her expenses to her brother. The thought made him smile. The world was vast—he was literate. Finding work wouldn’t be hard.

Qiaoyun had nursed him back to health—this fever would pass. He was the kind of fool who only regretted after losing everything. He sat all night, door wide open, letting the wind and rain in, watching the sky darken.

When the rain stopped, he lit an oil lamp, took out the new clothes Qiaoyun had sewn for him (ones he’d never worn), and dressed neatly. It was time to find work.

In the pitch-black night, he locked the door, carrying a small lantern to Qiaoyun’s parents’ house. He placed the last of his money on the windowsill of her old room—the one where she used to feed sparrows in the morning. She’d find it.

He would work hard, waiting for the day Qiaoyun forgave him.

Meanwhile, Jicheng, worried Chunfu wasn’t fully recovered, ran out to ask Liansheng to cover his shift before returning to tend to her. Chunfu, who had wanted to sleep longer, laughed helplessly. “I’m strong—I’ll be fine. You just caused trouble a few days ago, and now you’re skipping work? What if the boss gets upset?”

Jicheng shrugged. “Worst case, I’ll come back and help you. But the boss’s wife better pay me—I won’t work for free.”

Chunfu scolded him for his cheekiness, then sighed. “I promised Jinjuan and Liansheng’s wife I’d ask the cloth shop if they needed skilled embroiderers. I wanted to help them earn something, but I still haven’t done it.”

Jicheng pulled her into his arms, resting his chin on her soft hair. “Is that all? I’ll go tomorrow. I’m good at talking—I’ll make it happen.”

Chunfu playfully hit him, then slipped out of his embrace to put on her outer robe. “Looks like the weather’s clearing. Let’s go pick mushrooms in the mountains—dry them for winter. They’ll sell well.”

Jicheng responded and went out to fetch water for her. With her delicate skin, she wasn’t like him—a rough man who could just splash cold water on his face. They had spent most of the day in the mountains and were now walking back, laughing as they carried fish and a pheasant, as if the matter with Jiliang’s family had never been mentioned.

Chunfu glanced around to make sure no one was watching before wrapping her arm around Jicheng’s, softening her voice to coo, “If only the work in town could finish sooner, we wouldn’t have to be apart for so long. The house feels so empty when I’m alone… but never mind that. Look how lovely Qingshui Mountain is after the rain—everything’s thriving. It’s a shame more people will soon be foraging there. It’s all my fault. If I’d acted sooner, we wouldn’t have missed our chance.”

Jicheng patted her shoulder. “Don’t push yourself too hard. Even if we don’t get the mountain, we’re still better off than before, aren’t I? I’m content. You’ve already helped me so much, letting me slack off without having to work myself to the bone.”

Chunfu thought perhaps the heavens simply didn’t want her to earn this money, robbing her of that bit of luck. Well, she’d just have to find another way. But just as she was about to give up, someone from the Pei family arrived—unlike their usual ostentatious manner, this time disguised as a passerby. The two had just reached their doorstep when they spotted the man waiting, unsure how long he’d been there.

“Are you Master Jicheng and Madam Chunfu? My master heard that Madam had visited the estate before and feared some misunderstanding, so he sent me to inquire.”

The man was courteous, making Chunfu feel a little embarrassed. How could she admit she’d been scheming for the Pei family’s silver? After some thought, she decided it would be best to speak with Young Master Pei directly. “Could you tell us when the young master will be at home? I’d like to discuss it with him in person. If he’s occupied these next few days, we can wait.”

The man smiled politely. “My master instructed that if Madam had matters not suited for messengers, he would be at the estate these next two days, awaiting her visit.”

Chunfu nodded, the weight on her heart easing slightly. It seemed the heavens were on her side after all. “Thank you. We’ll visit tomorrow.”

Jicheng watched the man leave before frowning at Chunfu, uneasy. “That Pei heir doesn’t seem easy to deal with. I don’t feel comfortable letting you go alone. I’ll take another day off tomorrow and go with you. If anything happens, I’ll be there to handle it.”

Chunfu nearly refused but reconsidered. A woman entering the Pei estate alone, even if nothing happened, might invite gossip. She wasn’t afraid of rumors, but Jicheng had to face the outside world—she couldn’t embarrass him. Smiling, she said, “Then you’ll have to be careful. That dog of his doesn’t seem friendly.”

Jicheng laughed heartily. “Since when do men fear beasts? Don’t underestimate your husband. Now, weren’t we going to feast tonight? Let’s wash up and get started. The food I’ve made these past two days just doesn’t compare—I’ll have to trouble you again.”

Chunfu couldn’t help but laugh. When had he become so cheeky? She must have spoiled him. Every night, he whispered shameless words, nothing like the man she’d first met. But who made her love him so?

The salted fish she’d prepared earlier was now ready. The moment she opened the barrel, the rich aroma filled the air, tantalizing. Jicheng had never known fish could be prepared this way. Growing up, his father had always cooked, and no matter how bad it was, his mother would eat it with a smile. He’d been proud just to surpass his father’s skills—never dreaming he’d marry a woman with even better culinary talent. Sighing, he said, “If my parents were still here, they’d be overjoyed to taste your cooking.”

Chunfu shook her head. “Then you wouldn’t have married me. No parents want their son to wed someone as difficult and willful as me. I… I’ve wronged you. We never should’ve been a match.”

Jicheng watched as she spoke of painful memories with a gentle smile, his heart softening. “Let’s not dwell on the past. Everyone has their own fate. I’m just grateful the heavens didn’t forsake me—letting me wait so long only to meet someone as wonderful as you. People used to say I was cursed, that I brought misfortune. I almost believed it myself. You… you were my unexpected blessing. Now, our lives are smoother than theirs. Maybe this was the heavens’ trick all along—blinding their dull eyes.”

Chunfu didn’t reply. He had suffered no less than she had. Perhaps the heavens pitied their shared fate and granted them this happiness. Since the salted fish was quite spicy, she stewed the fish Jicheng had caught into a mild broth and prepared lighter dishes. As they sat down to eat, she said, “Go easy on the spice. The weather’s getting hotter—don’t overheat. When I have time, I’ll make you something else.”

Jicheng watched her delicate hands ladle soup for him, the rippling broth seeping into his heart. This, he thought, must be the happiest life an ordinary man could have. The milky-white soup was rich and fragrant, the most delicious flavor he’d ever tasted. Mixing the salted fish with plump grains of rice created an entirely new medley of tastes, whetting his appetite like never before.

But at night, Jicheng became a different man. He craved the intoxicating intimacy of their private moments. Chunfu didn’t know if it was her own frailty or his extraordinary stamina—like a drawn bow, he only relented when she was nearly senseless, leaving her trembling yet unable to escape.

Only two days had passed, yet as soon as night fell, he was already clinging to her. Seeing the starlight in his eyes, Chunfu flushed and murmured, “I’m still unwell. We have to go to town tomorrow—let’s rest early.”

Jicheng considered this with exaggerated seriousness. “Now that you mention it, I’ve heard that sweating helps with colds. It’s still early—no need to sleep yet. Let me help you sweat it out. You’ll be better by morning.”

It was the first time Chunfu had seen him deliver such nonsense with a straight face while his hands wandered shamelessly beneath her thin quilt—first clasping her fingers, then tracing upward along her curves, lingering where she was most sensitive.

“You’re shameless,” she scolded, but her voice was already laced with desire, soft and alluring, only pulling him deeper.

The clouds parted, and the bright moon hung high above the treetops—hazy, yet enchanting.