Chapter 60:

After lunch, Chunfu took Jicheng’s clothes to Liansheng’s wife’s house. Liansheng’s wife had just finished tidying up the dishes at home and invited her to sit inside while she went outside to wash her hands thoroughly with soapberries before coming in.

Noticing Chunfu’s puzzled look, she smiled and said, “These things are meant to be sold, after all. If I accidentally leave black marks on them, how unsightly would that be? Better to wash my hands clean before working—leave a good impression for the boss.”

Chunfu chuckled and continued sewing the clothes, carefully undoing a knot she had accidentally made.

Liansheng’s wife sat down beside her, running the needle through her hair before speaking. “You probably haven’t heard yet, but Uncle Ji’s household is in chaos. After Chunju and Cenniu went to the village head to dissolve their marriage, they just stayed there and refused to leave. Seems like this ready-made daughter-in-law can’t be pushed away anymore. And Jiliang—no one knows where he’s gone. Qiaoyun lost her child the other day, yet she rushed back to look for Jiliang without even caring for her own health. Seems she’s dead set on not staying with him anymore.”

Chunfu’s hands paused for a moment, a pang of sorrow in her heart. That day, Qiaoyun had looked so happy, clearly excited about the child. How could it have come to this? What a pitiful woman, struggling so hard yet still unable to live the life she wanted. A woman reduced to such a miserable state—Qiaoyun must be suffering terribly inside.

“Jiliang probably refused to agree to the separation. There wasn’t much conflict between them as a couple. I think Jiliang should’ve known better—if he’d just stayed out of his uncle’s affairs, this mess wouldn’t have happened.” She only needed a few more stitches to finish this sleeve. Having gotten the hang of it, she worked much faster now.

Before long, Jinjuan arrived, her face flushed and panting as she entered. “Just had a fight at home—sorry I’m late.”

Liansheng’s wife knew Jinjuan’s life wasn’t easy either and comforted her, “Did they pick on you again? Listen to me, sister—try not to argue with Aunt Zhao. No matter what, she’s an elder. If she gets sick from anger, what good would that do you? Those Zhao brothers might let you quarrel now, but if they really team up… you won’t be able to handle it.”

Jinjuan’s eyes reddened instantly. If Zhao Yun dared lay a hand on her, she’d—what could she even do? But she hadn’t argued with her mother-in-law. It was just that Zhao Si had a foul mouth, constantly bringing up Chunju’s affairs and insisting she was the same kind of woman. That was what had sparked the fight. If Liansheng’s wife hadn’t come to fetch her this morning, she didn’t know if she might have actually attacked Zhao Si.

“Sister, you don’t know how unbearable my life is. The only thing keeping me going is my temper. Thank heavens I’ve got this job now—something to pass the time and earn money. I’ve made up my mind: if Zhao Si dares provoke me again, I’ll tear off all pretenses and find my own way out.” She was like a desperate soul, shackled by heavy burdens. Even if Zhao Yun held a place in her heart, she couldn’t endure it for his sake. She was still young—she didn’t want to waste her life like this.

Chunfu held her hand, unsure what to say. She could only hope Heaven would show her some mercy and make her days a little easier.

Liansheng’s wife didn’t press further, only advising her not to escalate things. Changing the subject, they chatted idly while working, and before they knew it, most of the day had passed. Chunfu glanced outside and began packing up, saying it was time to cook—Jicheng would be back soon.

Jinjuan gathered her things too—it was time to head home. She could finish the rest there before making dinner. She hadn’t spent the money Zhao Yun had given her, planning to return it when he got back. He’d need funds for his upcoming wedding.

But as soon as she entered the courtyard, she saw him squatting in the yard, chopping firewood. He looked up and smiled at her. “I’ve started the fire—it’ll save you some time when you cook.”

Jinjuan couldn’t hide the joy that surged in her heart at the sight of him. She hurried over. “Are you hungry? I’ll start cooking right away. Oh, and—” She pulled the money pouch he’d given her from her sleeve and handed it back. “I don’t need it. You should take it. You’ll be getting married soon—there’ll be plenty of expenses. Save where you can.”

Zhao Yun stood abruptly, his handsome face expressionless. “I gave it to you—it’s yours. Don’t worry about other things.”

Jinjuan watched his tall, lean figure stride away, her heart aching again. He despised her meddling. She was just—just what? A sourness filled her. It had taken so much courage to say those words, only to be met with a cold “Don’t worry about it.” Truly humiliating.

Her mood soured, and even the food she cooked tasted bland. Zhao Si took two bites before slamming his chopsticks down. “So you’re throwing a tantrum just because I said a few words? Looking for a beating?”

Jinjuan didn’t even lift her head, quietly eating her meal. She had no appetite, but for the sake of the future, she had to fill her stomach. At least now she had something to look forward to. If she saved up for a few more years, she could live independently without worry. Lost in these thoughts, she barely registered Zhao Si’s words. Nothing good ever came from his mouth anyway—no point getting angry. Let him be.

Furious, Zhao Si raised his hand to strike, but Zhao Yun’s icy glare stopped him. He scoffed. “I’ll let you off this time. Next time, you won’t be so lucky.”

Jinjuan lifted her eyes, fearless, forcing Zhao Si to look away. If this woman really decided to make trouble, she could grind him to dust. He threw down his chopsticks and stormed off to his room.

Old Mrs. Zhao, distressed for her son, added some salt to the rice and took it to him, grumbling, “The whole family’s appetite can’t take your tantrums. Are you trying to make us miserable?”

Zhao Yun watched Jinjuan, head bowed, quietly eating small bites, and felt a pang of pity. “Just let their words go in one ear and out the other. Don’t take it to heart. If anything happens, just tell me.”

Jinjuan looked up, her delicate face wearing a gentle smile. Clearly, she hadn’t taken their words seriously. “If I dwelled on every little thing, I’d have jumped into the river long ago. These are just household trifles—no need for you to trouble yourself. Focus on your own affairs.”

Her indifferent, carefree attitude made his chest tighten. She had changed. At some point, she’d become someone he couldn’t read—yet it only made him cling tighter. Sometimes, even when you know something is wrong, you can’t help but reach for it—like a flower luring a bee. He was willingly flying into the flame.

“After dinner, I’ll wash the dishes. The boss gave us a few days off—you can rest a bit.”

Still nursing her earlier resentment, Jinjuan cared deeply but stubbornly refused to show it. “Thank you, little brother. I’m done eating—I’ll head to my room now.”

As she walked inside, she bumped into Old Mrs. Zhao carrying an empty bowl. Seeing her second son clearing the table, the old woman fumed. “Lazybones at such a young age! Is this how I raised you? Zhao Yun suffers enough outside—must he endure his sister-in-law’s bullying at home too? What a wretched life.”

Bitterness flooded Jinjuan’s heart. *She* bullied Zhao Yun? What a joke. Glancing back at the man tidying up, she said flatly, “I didn’t ask him. He insisted—I couldn’t very well stop him.”

Hearing his mother’s words, Zhao Yun quickly interjected, “Ma, I’m home for a few days. This is nothing. Do you want some soup? I’ll serve you.”

Jinjuan retreated to her room and resumed embroidering handkerchiefs—her livelihood, the key to her future sustenance. No matter how upset she was, she couldn’t neglect this. Once she picked up the needle, her mind focused entirely on the work. She loved stitching lively, adorable things—playful rabbits, mandarin ducks, butterflies—all paired beautifully. Yet a wave of bitterness rose in her heart. No matter how lovely these designs were, they had nothing to do with her.

Her eyes grew tired from the work. Setting it aside, she rubbed her stiff neck and looked up to find Zhao Yun standing at the door, staring blankly at her, lost in thought. His presence here was improper. Jinjuan cleared her throat. “Little brother, is there something you need?”

Zhao Yun must have been out of his mind to come here. The way she sat by the window, needle darting through the fabric with such focus, had entranced him. The more he watched, the harder it was to pull away. He knew it was wrong, yet he couldn’t stop himself. He’d never forget the first time he saw her—covered in bruises, huddled in a corner of the yard, crying as dawn broke. The pale light made her seem even more fragile. His heart had ached, and he’d clumsily tried to comfort her, earnest yet awkward.

Later, she’d stopped crying and looked up with tearful eyes, murmuring, “Why is it supposed to be you… but it’s not?” From then on, his eyes had followed her unconsciously, terrified she’d suffer again. But he was often away working, unable to protect her. Each time he returned to find her injured, he could only scold his elder brother and beg his mother to ease up. Eventually, she’d refused to endure it any longer, chasing Zhao Si with a knife like a tigress. He’d found it darkly amusing yet heartbreaking. In the end, he was useless.

“My clothes are torn. Can you mend them for me?” Ever since realizing his feelings, he couldn’t bring himself to call her “sister-in-law”—a fact that surprised even him.

Jinjuan frowned slightly. It wasn’t that she couldn’t, but his mother usually handled his clothes. Why now? Hesitating, she said, “Your mother… just bring them here. I’ll fix them quickly.”

For some reason, though she smiled, he felt an insurmountable distance between them—agonizing and frustrating. If he took that step, could he bear the consequences? What did Jinjuan feel for him? He wasn’t sure. If it was one-sided, what then? He could abandon everything—but could she? Would she want to?

Old Mrs. Zhao had been searching for her son to discuss the Liu family’s daughter. Finding him talking to that wretched woman, her face darkened. “Have you no sense? She’s your sister-in-law—what will people think? And you—Zhao Yun might not know better, but as his elder, how can you be so careless? Or do you *want* to disgrace our family?”

Seeing Jinjuan’s face pale, Zhao Yun’s heart clenched. “Ma, what nonsense is this? I just asked her to mend my clothes because she’s good at it. Didn’t want to strain your eyes. Is that so strange?”

Old Mrs. Zhao shot him a glare and dragged him away. “Enough. No more excuses. Give me a straight answer—when will you propose to the Lius? That girl is a good match—blessed looks, hardworking. Perfect for you. Your father’s gone—I won’t rest until I’ve settled your future.”

Zhao Yun glanced back. Jinjuan had already lowered her head to work. She must have heard. What was she thinking? He sighed. “Ma, stop arranging things. I don’t like her. I’ll handle my own affairs when the time comes.”

Old Mrs. Zhao was so angry she could barely breathe. “Handle it? What can *you* handle? Don’t you dare act recklessly! The Lius and I have already agreed. Both families are waiting for you to marry and give me a grandson!”

Zhao Yun didn’t respond, turning to his room instead. Zhao Si lay on the kang, chewing on a weed from the garden. Seeing him enter, he sneered. “Think carefully. These women might look weak, but they’re fierce. See how my wife kicked me out? A real tigress. If I had the means, I wouldn’t keep trash like her.”

Zhao Yun gave him a scornful look. “If you could actually divorce her, I’d respect you. Before judging others, weigh your own worth.”

Zhao Si sat up abruptly, his flabby body shaking. “What’s wrong with you? Ma nags at *you*, yet you take it out on *me*? If it weren’t for this damned illness, would I be like this? You think I *like* fighting with her? I just can’t help it. If I don’t argue, I don’t feel alive. Everyone laughs at me—who knows I’m barely hanging on?”

Zhao Yun stripped off his outer robe and lay down. He’d washed up earlier while looking for Jinjuan. After days of exhaustion, he could finally sleep. Smirking, he said, “You don’t even try to better yourself, yet blame others for looking down on you. How shameless. If you don’t want to live, who can help you?”

Only then did Zhao Si realize his younger brother also despised him. With a bitter laugh, he turned away, unable to sleep as the night deepened.

The next morning, Jinjuan rose early to cut pigweed. As she slung the basket over her shoulder, Zhao Yun’s voice came from behind. “Wait—I’ll go with you. I’ve got time these days—I’ll handle these chores.”

Jin Juan, however, was not pleased. She pursed her lips and said, “I’d rather chat with my sisters. No need to trouble yourself. I’ve gotten used to this daily routine—I’ve long since mastered it.”

Zhao Yun stubbornly carried the basket and walked out with her anyway. He didn’t care what others thought; he simply cherished the rare opportunity to spend quiet moments together.

Jin Juan quickened her pace, putting a considerable distance between them. Chunfu and Liansheng’s wife were already busy ahead. When Chunfu spotted her, she waved cheerfully, but upon noticing Zhao Yun trailing behind, her smile turned knowing. Jin Juan couldn’t help but blush. Though irritated, an undeniable joy bubbled up inside her. For someone in love, even a short walk with their beloved could bring secret delight for days.

Chunfu approached Zhao Yun and said, “You helped my Jicheng that time, and I never got the chance to thank you properly. I’ll tell him when I get back—we ought to prepare a good meal to show our gratitude.”

Zhao Yun, usually expressionless in public, allowed a rare smile. “No need for formalities, sister-in-law. I just happened to pass by. Besides, Jin Juan has always been under your care. Helping out was only natural.”

As an outsider, Chunfu saw things clearly. This Zhao Yun wasn’t as indifferent as Jin Juan claimed—his words carried a softness. Perhaps Jin Juan’s future might turn out smoother than she thought.

Jin Juan, flustered by Zhao Yun’s presence, felt her breath grow uneven. She tugged Chunfu aside, noticing her teasing grin. “Stop smiling like that—it’s unsettling.”

Chunfu glanced back at Zhao Yun and whispered, “I think he holds you in his heart. Maybe propriety keeps him from speaking openly. Give it time. I truly hope things work out for you—you’ve suffered enough.”

Jin Juan’s eyes reddened. Only with Chunfu did she dare pour out her grievances. Fighting back tears, she said, “Chunfu, life is unbearable. I’m afraid I can’t take much more. In that house, I have no one to talk to—just endless quarrels and not a single kind word. My mother-in-law’s words are always barbed, always finding fault. No matter how angry I get, she’s Zhao Yun’s mother. I swallow my pride for his sake, but who appreciates it?”

Chunfu understood her pain and patted her shoulder. “Come to me and Liansheng’s wife more often. We can share our troubles—better than staring at empty walls alone. Bottling things up will only make you sick.”

Jin Juan wiped her tears with her sleeve and smiled. “Talking to you eases my heart. Without you, I’d have lost my mind long ago.”

Chunfu peeked ahead and grinned. “Stop shedding golden tears. Someone over there looks like his heart’s about to break—he’s been stealing glances your way. Keep this up, and he might just rush over.”

Jin Juan’s cheeks burned as she bent to cut grass, lips pressed tight, refusing to engage. Chunfu knew she was all bluster but thin-skinned at heart and didn’t push further, joining Liansheng’s wife instead. Though Chunfu still spoke little, she’d begun to blend in.

On the way back, Jin Juan parted ways with Chunfu at the crossroads. Zhao Yun trailed behind until they were alone, then strode to her side. After a pause, he said, “If my brother picks a fight later, ignore him. I’ll handle it. Even though I’m rarely home, I know exactly how you’ve been living these years.”

Jin Juan chuckled bitterly. “What good does knowing do? When will this misery end? Maybe I sinned in a past life to deserve this torment. I wish the gods would save me—just grant me a few peaceful days.”

Zhao Yun lowered his head awkwardly. “Don’t say such things. None of this is your fault. I never imagined they’d deceive me like this. Outsiders are right—our family’s actions were disgraceful. Had I been home, I’d have stopped it. You never should’ve been forced into this marriage.”

Jin Juan doubted Chunfu’s words. At most, he pitied her—nothing more. Shaking her head, she said, “Forget what I just said. It’s useless dwelling on the past. There’s no going back. I’ve accepted my fate.”

Zhao Yun wanted to say, *Don’t accept it.* But the words stuck in his throat. He feared her mockery—such forbidden feelings would only invite scorn. Worse still, he couldn’t bear *her* ridicule. Would she think him delusional? Disgusted by his affection? And with his elder brother in the way, any move required careful thought. Without certainty, he dared not act recklessly.

Seeing his hesitation, Jin Juan’s lips curved. It was the first time she’d seen him so uncertain, as if bound by invisible chains. “I’ll head back first. It’s unseemly for us to walk together. If Mother-in-law sees, she’ll be upset. Since I’m free today, give me your clothes—I’ll mend them for you.”

Zhao Yun nodded silently. Back home, he emptied the basket of grass into a dedicated container, washed his hands, and fetched the torn garment. In front of his mother and brother, he handed it to Jin Juan, drawing an immediate scold from Madam Zhao: “I’ll mend it! Let your future wife handle your clothes. Ever since *she* came, misfortune has plagued this house. Don’t let her ruin your luck too.”

Zhao Yun stood his ground. “Yours aren’t as neat. We’re family—why draw lines? Once she married into the Zhao household, she became one of us. If you disliked her, why bring her here in the first place?”

Madam Zhao had had enough of her son’s defiance lately. Whatever she opposed, he championed—especially this girl. Snapping, she said, “Have you lost your spine? Need a beating to remember your place? Are you siding with her to spite me? Must I follow your father to the grave before you’re satisfied? Zhao Yun, mark my words—she’ll always be an outsider in this family. If she fails in her duties to her husband and mother-in-law, she deserves punishment. A few slaps would be justified.”

Watching Jin Juan bury her face in her bowl, Zhao Yun’s heart ached. No matter how hard she tried, she’d never belong. Her earlier words weren’t exaggerations—he finally grasped the depth of her despair. So young, yet her suffering had only just begun. The years ahead promised unrelenting torment. The thought was unbearable.