Chunju never expected that even at this point, Jikun would still think of driving her away. Her face turned darker than charcoal, and she furrowed her brows, wailing at the top of her lungs, startling the child who had been sound asleep. In an instant, the courtyard gate echoed with the angry shouts of women and the piercing cries of children.
“Jikun, you heartless wretch! I went through all the hardships to bear your child, and even if we barely have enough to eat or wear, you still want to kick me aside now that the bridge is crossed? Let me tell you, that’s never going to happen. If it weren’t for your sweet talk and poisonous words back then, would I have been so blind as to follow a crippled good-for-nothing like you?” Watching the Chen family’s life improve day by day, hearing that the young wife was pregnant and being treated like royalty by Old Lady Chen and Chen Niu—all the blessings she never had were now showered on that woman. How many times had she wept, wondering if her fate was to suffer endlessly in this life?
Jikun, infuriated by her harsh words, raised his hand to strike her. He had held back all this time, considering her pregnancy, but now she had crossed the line, becoming more and more unruly.
Old Man Ji, tired of the drama, snapped impatiently, “If you want to fight, take it somewhere else. Don’t let me see it. You’ve lost a leg, not all your limbs. Even those with only one hand don’t laze around waiting to be served. Come spring, you’d better find work. Your mother and I are too old to earn much, and we can’t keep feeding you forever.”
Jikun looked pleadingly at his mother, but Old Lady Ji just sighed. “Your father’s right. Life is bitter before it’s sweet. Our family isn’t one to raise spoiled sons. You’re grown now—it’s time to think of ways to support yourself. The road ahead is long; you need to plan carefully.”
Old Man Ji frowned, stomped his foot, and exhaled sharply. The road outside the courtyard remained empty, and with lunchtime nearly over, he grumbled, “I’ll feed you one last meal today. After that, you’re on your own. And don’t let me hear you wailing at my door again. I’m not dead yet, and even if I were, it’s not your place to mourn me.”
Jikun sighed in relief, grateful his father hadn’t kicked them out immediately. Inside, a small table on the kang was set with a few dishes—nothing fancy, but to Jikun, it might as well have been a feast. Rubbing his hands together, he grinned. “Such a spread! Jiliang is lucky.”
After waiting a while with no sign of Jiliang, Old Man Ji tapped his pipe on the table and sighed. “Must be delayed. Let’s eat, old woman. No point waiting.”
The child slept on, and for a while, only the clinking of chopsticks filled the room. By the time they finished, Jiliang still hadn’t returned. Old Man Ji retreated to smoke outside, his cloudy eyes fixed on nothing. Finally, he muttered to his wife, “Jiliang’s changed. He’s got his own mind now—we can’t boss him around anymore. Jikun’s hopeless. We need to think of our own future. I won’t let him stay here.”
Old Lady Ji paused but said nothing. She knew arguing was futile—it would only make things harder for Jiliang.
Half an hour later, Jiliang returned, pale but composed. “Why so late? Your mother’s already cleared the table. Want me to make you some noodles?”
Jiliang waved it off. “No need. I ate at my brother’s. Dad, I’m heading back to town. Here’s some money—don’t skimp in this cold. I won’t be back often; the shop keeps me busy. Take care of yourselves.”
Qiaoyun had returned the money pouch to him earlier. “We’re done now,” she’d said with a smile. “I can’t take this. You’ll need it more than me. Goodbye.”
He’d planned to give up on buying a house in town but changed his mind. Living with others wasn’t sustainable, and having a goal to strive for kept him going.
Old Man Ji refused the money. “When will you be back? Life’s hard out there—keep it for yourself. The house is emptier without you, especially in winter. I’ve wronged you too much in the past. Don’t hold it against me. Come home when you can—don’t face troubles alone.”
The child in the inner room woke up crying. Chunju hurried to soothe it. “Need to pee? Why the fuss? Such a little tyrant.”
Old Lady Ji, finished with her chores, beamed and rushed over. “Let Grandma hold you! So fair-skinned, and those big, round eyes!”
Jiliang smiled faintly. This was true family. Who had mourned his own lost child? He pressed the money into his father’s hand. “You raised me all these years. I can’t be here to care for you. Take this—buy what you need. The cart’s waiting. I have to go.”
Old Man Ji saw the resolve in Jiliang’s eyes and knew the rift from months ago had grown too wide to mend. One mistake had cost him a devoted son. As Jiliang disappeared, he stormed inside, berating his wife. “Why must you say such hurtful things in front of him?”
Old Lady Ji, cradling the baby, blurted out, “Husband, why dote on another’s son while neglecting your own? He’s fine without us. Why should an outsider enjoy what we’ve slaved for? Our poor Jikun’s banished—think of your grandson at least!”
Old Man Ji exploded. “You fool! Pack your things and leave with that ingrate! They say sons are for old age, but I’ve brought home a curse. If you’re going, go—don’t stand there grating on my nerves!”
Jikun protested, “How am I unfilial? You’re my father—you’ve cleaned up my messes. May lightning strike me if I don’t care for you! And just because I’m down now doesn’t mean—”
“Enough!” Old Man Ji cut him off. “Go dream your dreams elsewhere. I’ve no patience for empty boasts.” When Jikun lingered, he glared. “Need a beating to move? I ask nothing of you—just stay away and let me live in peace.”
Seeing no room for negotiation, Jikun swallowed his pride. “Dad, we’ve no food left. I wouldn’t come if it weren’t desperate.”
Old Man Ji scoffed. “Your mother will give you some—this once. Dare to return, and I’ll show no mercy.” He knew Jikun would never understand, but he had to push him—or watch him starve. The disappointments never ended, while the one who’d never caused trouble had been driven away.
Jicheng dozed briefly beside Chunfu, waking soon after. Chunfu slept deeply, undisturbed by his kiss. Winter sunlight, though weak outside, streamed warmly through the window, bathing her serene face in a golden halo. She was like a spark of hope in the bleak season, filling his heart.
Seeing daylight still left, Jicheng strapped an axe to his waist and headed for the mountains. In such harsh weather, any animals foraging would be desperate and fiercer than usual. He knew real hunters didn’t rely on axes, but he couldn’t sit idle.
The road was nearly empty, and those out kept their heads down against the cold. Most trees stood bare, save for evergreens. Having roamed these hills since childhood, he’d learned much from his father but never thought to profit from it. Now, seeing how the villagers overlooked these riches, he marveled at their shortsightedness. The real treasures were here, not in town.
Wild vegetables and herbs were prized in town, as Chunfu had said. People just needed to think beyond their limits. Many fortunes were made simply by acting a step sooner than others.
After stacking firewood, he ventured deeper. The old fence still stood, but the view had cleared, the ground thick with fallen leaves. Traps meant for boars had caught smaller, cleverer animals—mostly rabbits, with one fox. He’d been too busy for upkeep before.
Like Zhou Jing, he wondered what lay deeper in the mountains. But as dusk fell, he hurried home, knowing Chunfu would wake soon. He wasn’t worried about her appetite—she’d stored cabbages in the cellar, lately experimenting with chili toppings. In autumn, she’d preserved sour fruits as sweet treats. Someone who pampered her palate so needed no coddling.
At home, Chunfu was already up, making dough-drop soup. “Where’ve you been so late?” she asked, then added cheerfully, “Liansheng’s wife brought fried cakes—filled with peanuts and melon seeds. Smells amazing. She gave me lots of advice, hearing about the baby.”
Jicheng brushed off dust before entering, smiling at her joy. “She’s been through it—ask her anything. Wonder if it’s a boy or girl. A boy must endure hardship; a girl we’ll spoil. When she’s grown, we’ll find her a worthy match.”
Chunfu laughed. “Let’s wait till it’s born. Now, where were you?”
“Up the mountain. With little to do, I thought I’d gather herbs—some are better dried. I still have Apothecary Jin’s manual. Even common herbs have value. Better than idleness.”
Chunfu smirked. “So much for resting—not even a day before you’re itching for work. Take Liansheng with you—I’d worry less. We’ve enough money without grand ambitions. They’ve helped us often, and we’ll need trusted hands if we expand.”
Jicheng, resisting the urge to tousle her hair with dirty hands, chuckled. “Well thought. I’ll follow your lead.”
After dinner, as Jicheng cleaned up and washed outside, Chunfu knelt on the kang, her long hair cascading as she counted coins, each clink deepening her smile.
“Counting riches? Careful inviting thieves. With New Year near, some can’t even afford meals.” He climbed onto the kang, unfolding bedding. “Come to bed—don’t catch cold.”
Chunfu ignored him, her voice soft with delight. “This sound gladdens my heart. Others’ troubles aren’t mine to fix, but thieves are a real concern.”
Amused by her seriousness, Jicheng packed the coins away and helped her undress. “Time to sleep.”
Meanwhile, in Changfeng County’s yamen, Magistrate Mu Hong was interrupted by none other than Steward Liu, who’d rushed from the capital upon receiving news. Bowing deeply, Liu said, “The old madam sent me as soon as she got your letter. That woman—how could she—?”
Mu Hong closed his ledger, standing with hands clasped behind his back. The draft from Liu’s entrance made the candle flicker, but his expression remained calm. “Indeed. It took great effort to uncover what Cuiping buried. Erlang, raised as her son, managed to deceive the village for a year.”
Liu gritted his teeth. “That wretched girl! Acting on her own, leaving our young master to suffer all these years. Back then, the mistress told her to hide him until it was safe—who knew—?”
Years ago, the Mu family’s superstitious patriarch, obsessed with fate, had met a rogue fortune-teller who claimed the second twin born to the eldest daughter-in-law would doom the family’s century of prosperity. The old man, valuing legacy over life, ordered the child sacrificed. The heartbroken mother, fresh from childbirth, begged on her knees outside his courtyard, only to be carried back, forever haunted by headaches at the thought of her lost son.
Though some urged delaying until the father returned, the patriarch scoffed, “What use seeing such ill luck? No one informs my son, or they’ll join the unburied dead!”
The desperate mother secretly had her maid Cuiping take the baby away and replaced it with a stillborn child. However, the sharp-eyed family patriarch saw through the trick, severely reprimanded her, and sent people to chase after them. The child disappeared and was never seen again. When Master Mu discovered the truth, he angrily killed the deceitful Taoist priest in front of his father—but his youngest son was lost forever, becoming a lifelong regret.
Since then, the old madam had stared at the gate daily, yearning for Cuiping to appear with the words, “Madam, the young master has returned.”
Just when hope seemed lost, heaven smiled—Mu Hong, the family’s first official, had found the trail at last. Decades of longing would not be in vain.
After a pause, Mu Hong murmured, “His life is peaceful now. Our sudden arrival may only anger him.”
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage