Li Xiue knew that Xiuhua had always envied her for marrying someone as handsome as Chunmu, while Tiezhu was fierce-looking and plain. In the past, whenever they sat together and occasionally talked about their husbands, Xiuhua would always change her expression, making it awkward for Li Xiue to continue, so she gradually avoided the topic.
“Don’t be fooled by good looks and wealth. I’ve heard that men like that can’t be relied on for a stable life—indulging in debauchery outside, keeping multiple wives and concubines at home. Those women may not worry about food and clothing, but what’s the point of fighting each other all day? He looks no older than seventeen or eighteen, and his heart is even more unsettled. Whoever marries him will be unlucky.”
Runiang, held by the servant, had grown familiar with Chunfu and Liansheng’s wife over the past few hours. The sudden unfamiliar scent made it agitated, and it barked fiercely in the direction of Li Xiue and the others.
Pei Qian lifted the dark curtain and glanced over, recognizing the greedy woman he had seen before. His deep eyes were filled with undisguised disdain and mockery. Runiang, summoned by its master, leaped into the carriage. Hearing the commotion, Chunfu and Liansheng’s wife hurried out and saw Li Xiue and Xiuhua. Chunfu gave them a cold glance before turning back to meet Pei Qian’s teasing gaze.
Pei Qian signaled the coachman to move on. As he passed Chunfu, he said meaningfully, “Don’t let those who chase after you bully you. It’d make me think less of you.”
Chunfu understood his implication and gave him a serene look, slightly bowing. The carriage soon disappeared into the distance. Liansheng’s wife glanced at it and said to Chunfu, “I’ll head back now. Call me if you need anything. We’ll do needlework together tomorrow.”
Only after Liansheng’s wife had left did Li Xiue approach. “Why is that young master here again? Afraid the whole village won’t know? If gossipy tongues start wagging, saying you two are improper, won’t that cause trouble for Jicheng? Even if Jicheng spoils you, people will blame our Zhang family for not raising you right.”
Xiuhua tugged at her sleeve. Hadn’t they just agreed not to lecture others? Why was she doing it again? If it were her, she’d handle things ten times better. How foolish.
Li Xiue forced a laugh, mentally slapping herself for being so tactless. She quickly softened her tone. “Chunfu, don’t take my words the wrong way. The villagers here love to gossip and stir up trouble. You have to be careful.”
Chunfu sneered inwardly. Weren’t you the one who thrived on chaos? She replied calmly, “You’re right. This is the last time. I’ll go back to my work now.” Without waiting for their hesitant responses, she strode back to the kitchen to clean up.
Pei Qian had been generous, leaving behind plenty of fine flour and pastries—enough for her and Jicheng to enjoy for a while. She decided to make dumplings for dinner and was about to pick some greens from the garden when she noticed Li Xiue and Xiuhua had followed her into the yard. Annoyed, she asked coldly, “Is there something else? Oh, I almost forgot—has Zhang Yan sent any word back to you? As his mother, you should be the one he misses most.”
Li Xiue, who had been heading toward the kitchen, stopped in her tracks, a flicker of pain crossing her face. “How would I know where he is? If he cared about me at all, he wouldn’t have run away. Forget it. That useless boy can die out there for all I care.”
Chunfu’s dark eyes narrowed slightly. Li Xiue still harbored some concern for Zhang Yan—after all, he was her flesh and blood—but years of prejudice had eroded deeper affection. Before she could respond, Xiuhua’s astonished voice came from the kitchen. “Chunfu, you have fine flour here? I’ve never tasted it in my life—and half a bag at that!”
Li Xiue rushed in, her face lighting up with glee. “You and Jicheng can’t possibly finish all this. Why not share some with me? Eating coarse grains year after year, my throat can barely swallow anymore. It’s time for a change.” She grabbed Chunfu’s mixing bowl and started scooping.
Suddenly, Chunfu understood Pei Qian’s parting words. Weren’t they here to make her life difficult? Her usually soft voice turned icy. “I didn’t say you could touch my things. Put it down.”
Li Xiue jumped, clutching her chest. “Why so harsh? I heard you’re making pastries in town, business is booming, and you’re raking in silver. Your brother and I are struggling—no work, no income. How about I help you out? You can’t handle everything alone. Xiuhua and I are hard workers. Once the work’s done, you can rest. What’s a bit of fine flour to you? It’s nothing.”
Chunfu suppressed her anger and smiled sweetly. “I can’t decide this. You saw Pei Qian today—he’s quick to set his dog on people. Rumor has it he nearly mauled a man to death recently. I dare not touch his things. What if he sends someone to collect them and I can’t produce them? Would you take the blame? It’s not that I’m stingy, but it’s best not to meddle with Pei Qian’s belongings. Even if you eat them, they’ll sit heavy in your stomach.”
Li Xiue wavered. She couldn’t handle that vicious dog. Reluctantly, she put the flour back. No delicacy was worth risking her life. Xiuhua tugged her sleeve and whispered, “He’s a wealthy man. They say he wouldn’t blink at a hundred taels of silver. Would he fuss over half a bag of flour? That’d be beneath him. She’s probably lying. Don’t believe her.”
Chunfu overheard and smiled faintly, inwardly acknowledging Xiuhua’s shrewdness. Li Xiue studied Chunfu’s face for any sign of deceit, but her calm demeanor only deepened her uncertainty. What if it was true? She didn’t want trouble. Pei Qian had boasted that killing commoners meant nothing to him. Better to live poorly than die recklessly.
With great reluctance, Li Xiue set the flour down. Seeing Xiuhua pocketing a few pastries, she snapped, “Put those back. Unless you want to die without knowing why.”
Xiuhua sulkily returned them. These were luxuries the poor could only dream of—so close yet untouchable. Swallowing hard, she turned to Chunfu with a flattering smile. “Chunfu, how did you meet that young master? Since he needs your help, giving you gifts is only fair. A few pastries mean nothing to him. If you ask nicely, he won’t mind.”
Chunfu had no fondness for Xiuhua. She stepped into the kitchen and waved her off. “You overestimate me. I’m just an ordinary woman. If Pei Qian listened to me, would Jicheng and I still be stuck in this tiny yard? I’d love to flaunt wealth, but I don’t have the means. If you’re so confident, why don’t you talk to him?”
Xiuhua rubbed her nose and chuckled awkwardly. “Who am I to bother him? I’m just thinking of your family. We all live hard lives. When rare treats come our way, why let them slip? It’s like a duck flying off just as it reaches your mouth.”
Chunfu tightened the flour bag and smiled. “I’m a coward. Even if these things were allowed, I wouldn’t dare touch them. Born poor, I suspect even kindness hides a knife. I fear death—having nearly died once before. Don’t you agree, sister-in-law?”
Li Xiue finally caught the underlying message—Chunfu was blaming her for not helping when she was gravely ill. Flustered, she nodded. Staying any longer would only invite more uncomfortable truths. “Fine, I won’t trouble you further. It’s getting late. I’ll go. Your brother will be back soon. Oh, Chunfu, when you’re free, come chat with me. After all, we’re family—closer than outsiders. Jicheng’s relatives are unreliable. You can only count on your own brother.”
Chunfu lifted her head, her rosy face gentle and lovely. “I understand. Take care, sister-in-law.” Once they were gone, she covered her mouth and laughed. Thank goodness they were easily intimidated—otherwise, she’d have had to fight to keep her belongings. She was petty. She’d rather give these things to strangers than let them have any. Why should they benefit after insulting and exploiting others? As if the world owed them everything.
Xiuhua, still resentful, whispered to Li Xiue once they were farther away, “Your Chunfu is cunning. Don’t let her fool you. The wealthy wouldn’t fuss over such trifles, especially not a young master—they care too much about face. It’s too late now, but be careful in the future. Don’t get swindled while counting silver for someone else.”
Li Xiue’s heart was unsettled. From Chunfu’s tone, it was clear she still held grudges—ones that wouldn’t fade easily. She’d discuss it with Chunmu. Surely Chunfu wouldn’t disrespect her own brother? Strangely, she detected a hint of jealousy in Xiuhua’s voice—perhaps envy that their family might prosper through Chunfu. In this world, no one was free from comparison or hidden agendas. She and Xiuhua had been childhood friends, but after she married Chunmu, Xiuhua had turned sour. Years passed, and neither was a fool. Her patience was wearing thin.
“I’ll have to rely on Chunfu from now on. I can’t afford to offend her again. And don’t say things that upset her. The whole village knows we’re close—your words reflect on me. Marriage changes things. We can’t act as freely as before. I don’t want Chunfu resenting me more. Understand?”
Xiuhua’s eyes flickered, her heart tightening, but she nodded. They parted ways at the village entrance, and only when alone did she mutter angrily, “What’s there to be proud of? Just a fool. If it were me, I’d never clash with Jicheng’s family. A sickly man who barely earns a few taels a year—Chunfu may be poor, but at least she’s healthy and dependable. Let’s see how long your good days last once Chunmu falls ill. Look down on me? I’ll wait and laugh.”
At home, Tiezhu sat in the yard, glowering. “Were you bickering with Chunmu’s wife again? The house is a mess, and you’re off gossiping? Need a beating to behave? What, you fancy Chunmu’s pretty face? Every time you come back from their place, you’re in a foul mood. Think I don’t notice?”
Xiuhua smirked. “Had a bad day outside? Why would I meddle with their family? With this face of mine… I know my place. But guess what? A young master visited Chunfu today. Rumors say Jicheng and Chunfu are quietly making a fortune. Xiue and I saw it ourselves—it’s probably true. Look at Chunfu’s skin—so tender it could drip water. She wore two hairpins, shimmering like butterflies in the sun. And her makeup—eyebrows like willow leaves.”
Tiezhu, focused on his own life, had no interest in others’ wives. “Mind your own business. What’s it to you?”
Xiuhua pouted. “Chunfu sells pastries in town. Even if we don’t know the recipe, we could learn. If I stick with Xiue, she won’t forget me. Let’s taste the good life too—not asking for makeup, just more meat on the table.”
Tiezhu’s scowl faded, and he shook his head with a laugh. “You think they’re fools? Why would they share a money-making secret? Teach you, and starve themselves? In this world, apprentices outshine masters. Don’t dream too big.”
Xiuhua refused to believe it. “Can’t you be optimistic? Chunfu even taught Liansheng’s wife. Why not her own sister-in-law?”
Tiezhu went to chop firewood, not bothering to look up. “You’re nothing like Liansheng’s wife. She isn’t greedy—knows what’s hers and doesn’t fight for more. People willingly teach her. But you and Li Xiue? Always eyeing others’ gains. I’d pay to avoid you. Don’t embarrass me. If I find out, you’ll regret it.”
Though Chunmu and Tiezhu got along, they despised each other’s wives and discouraged their friendship. But as the saying goes, flies flock to filth—the two women were a perfect match.
Xiuhua ignored him. He was always out earning money—too busy to track her movements. As for her mother-in-law, she wasn’t afraid. The old woman was nearing her grave—no matter how much she nagged, it was futile. Once she died, Xiuhua would finally be free, with a big house to arrange as she pleased.
Chunfu, delayed by their visit, hurriedly washed vegetables, mixed the filling, kneaded dough, and rolled wrappers. Working alone, her dumplings weren’t as neat as Jicheng’s. Fearful they’d fall apart in boiling water, she shaped them slowly, still at it when Jicheng returned.
“What’s the occasion? Dumplings? Where’d the fine flour come from?” Jicheng set down his basket, dusted himself off outside, and entered, eyeing the gleaming dough on the table.
“I told you yesterday—Pei’s family came today. They brought it and left the rest for us. Finally, I can breathe easy. By New Year’s, we’ll truly be counting silver on the kang.” She wiped her brow, accidentally smearing flour on her jade-like face, looking adorably clumsy.
Jicheng went to change out of his dirty clothes, calling over his shoulder, “Sit and rest. I’ll finish the dumplings.”
Chunfu’s hands ached from the work. As Jicheng swiftly folded dumplings, she washed her hands and fetched a towel. “Want vinegar? It’s vegetarian filling. Next time we catch fish, I’ll make fish dumplings for you.”
Though afternoon, the sun still scorched the earth. Jicheng drew water from the well and poured it over his head, his soaked clothes clinging to his broad chest. When Chunfu saw him like this, despite their time together, she blushed.
She set clean clothes on a stool and scolded gently, “How many times must I say it? No cold water. Just because you’re strong doesn’t mean you should push it. Falling ill costs more than money—it’s suffering.”
Jicheng dried himself with the towel and tousled her hair. “You’re turning into a nagging old woman. Fine, just this once. To keep you from remarrying, I’ll live long.”
Chunfu swatted his shoulder, her smile blooming like a flower. “You’re impossible. I only said that to spite you. Hurry up. I’m starving—didn’t eat much at noon.”
Her words were a pretext—she worried about him. While he finished the dumplings, she boiled water and added the misshapen ones. Looks didn’t matter—filling their stomachs did.
Jicheng worked swiftly, the dough transforming under his skilled hands. By the time the pot boiled, he’d nearly finished. He pulled her aside to wait and took over. This mountain of a man shielded her from life’s storms and cared for her tenderly. She must be the luckiest woman alive.
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