Madam Mu, though reluctant, had no choice but to let Jicheng leave. Watching his sturdy figure fade into the distance, she sighed repeatedly: “Your grandfather was foolish, swayed by slander, determined to see Second Son dead. Yet he didn’t realize that of all his grandsons, Second Son’s temperament was most like his—stubborn and strong-willed. I don’t ask for much. If he could just return with me and let me live a few peaceful days, that would be enough.”
Mu Hong, unsure how to console her, was relieved when the clerk entered to report someone beating the drum at the front hall to appeal for justice. He quickly donned his official hat and left.
On the way back, the sun had already begun its descent. The journey against the wind had been arduous, but the return was easier, with the wind at their backs. Jicheng gripped the reins, his mind a tempest of worry rather than anger or joy. The peaceful life he had longed for—awaiting Chunfu to give birth so they could live stably as a family of three—now seemed precarious.
He arrived home late, chilled to the bone. Chunfu had prepared a pot of noodle soup with greens, tofu, and vermicelli, though she hadn’t yet served it. Having waited too long, she dozed against the wall. Startled by the noise outside, she woke and hurried out: “Is everything settled? Did you take care of everything? I hope they won’t trouble us again.”
Jicheng removed his coat and sat at the small table, sighing as he looked at Chunfu: “There was never any issue. Everything was done properly back then. They just had some words for me. Chunfu, I… there’s something I haven’t told you. I’m not a child of the Ji family. During a disaster, a maid from my birth mother’s side took me to safety. That maid became my mother, and we never returned. Now they’ve found me and want me to go back with them.”
Chunfu set down her chopsticks: “Will you go? What about everything we have here?”
Jicheng shook his head: “Without affection, it would only bring trouble. How could I abandon all this? Whether they’re poor or wealthy, it has nothing to do with me. I can’t stand their tedious rules—not only do I not understand them, but they’d also make me a laughingstock. Here, we live freely and happily. Don’t worry. I’ll always stay by your side. Even if trouble comes, we won’t fear it.”
Chunfu smiled but said nothing. What did she have to fear? With Jicheng shielding her, and herself no pushover, she was unafraid.
To their surprise, Madam Mu sought out Jicheng’s home. Dressed in enviably luxurious attire, her servants unloaded rare goods from a second carriage, making quite the spectacle.
Jicheng had gone to the mountains, so Chunfu, not wanting to slight the guest, personally welcomed her inside. She poured Madam Mu a bowl of hot water and said lightly, “Jicheng went to gather herbs. He won’t be back for a while.”
Madam Mu studied Chunfu, then smiled: “No matter. I’ll wait. After all these years of hardship, I want to see where he lives.” The humble home was tidy, and the woman before her—Jicheng’s wife—was comely, with a full figure. Yet her rustic air displeased Madam Mu, who masked her distaste with polite words but a furrowed brow.
Chunfu noticed the lady’s poised demeanor, every gesture exuding nobility. She had intended to fulfill her hostess duties, but Madam Mu’s cold demeanor made it clear: Jicheng’s birth mother looked down on her as a daughter-in-law. Chunfu felt both amusement and sorrow. With little to discuss beyond Jicheng’s habits, she picked up a small garment to sew, having already made one set but needing more for the fast-growing child.
“How old is the child? When did you marry Jicheng? It seems he dotes on you.”
Chunfu smiled warmly: “I only realized I was pregnant recently—not yet three months. Jicheng used to live a dull life alone, but now he’s devoted to us. Oh, how forgetful of me! We have homemade snacks here—nothing fancy, but they pass the time.”
Madam Mu tasted the snack and offered polite praise, though her tone remained distant. Even without hints, Chunfu guessed her thoughts: her son was a nobleman, and even if he lacked education or manners, returning to his roots meant endless wealth and status. As for a country wife like her, a bit of silver would suffice to dismiss her.
Jicheng returned unusually early, his voice brimming with joy as he entered the yard: “Chunfu, look what I’ve brought!”
Chunfu set aside her sewing and rushed out without a coat: “Oh! A white fox! It looks clever and lively.”
Liansheng, who had accompanied him, laughed: “These creatures are cunning. I left him briefly, and when I returned, he’d caught this one.”
Jicheng beamed like a child with candy: “Today was lucky—we dug up two ginseng roots. The fox’s fur is excellent. I’ll have it made into a coat for you. Winter’s coming, and you’ll need the warmth.”
Chunfu was about to decline, saying she wasn’t so delicate, when the door she’d closed earlier swung open. A gentle, maternal voice called out: “Second Son, you’re back. What fortune! I’ve only seen such pelts twice before—worth a hundred taels.”
Liansheng excused himself, though puzzled. This woman was clearly noble—how had Jicheng come to know such a person? Fate was fickle. While they both struggled to survive, he’d never met anyone of her stature. With a wry smile, he left.
Jicheng’s expression darkened briefly before he composed himself: “Madam, what brings you here? The roads are treacherous in this cold.” The fox in his hand stirred, waking and thrashing.
Chunfu paid little heed, already guessing Madam Mu’s intent. She turned to prepare dinner—lamb noodle soup, hearty and warming. Her child wasn’t picky; she ate without complaint, though she still loved the sound of clinking silver. Perhaps that was the baby’s sole preference in the womb. Since Madam Mu showed no sign of leaving, Chunfu made extra.
Alone with his mother, the atmosphere grew awkward. Madam Mu reiterated her wish for him to return to the capital. Jicheng, impatient, muttered: “Chunfu’s with child. I should help her. After dinner, you should leave. It’s dark, and bandits are about. I’ve heard of recent robberies.”
Madam Mu, frustrated by her stubborn son, softened her tone: “Don’t worry. Your elder brother will send someone to fetch me later. After all your hardships, why do housework? It’s unbecoming of a man.”
Jicheng frowned: “Poor folk don’t stand on ceremony. A good life is all that matters. She’s the one I cherish most—how could I not treat her well?” With that, he went to help Chunfu with the vegetables and fire.
As Chunfu stirred, Jicheng fed kindling into the stove. She smiled: “I’m hardy. Keep such fine things for selling in town. Silver’s better than pelts.”
Jicheng scowled: “Rare finds like this are for you. Winter’s harsh, and cotton clothes won’t suffice.” The lamb’s aroma filled the air, and he grinned: “Smells delicious. I can’t wait.”
Chunfu teased his eagerness but returned to the pelt: “You’ve always listened to me. Why resist now?”
Jicheng sighed in mock despair: “How could I refuse you? But it’s such a waste. When deep winter comes, you’ll freeze.”
Chunfu recalled her days at Chunmu’s home—a tiny stove, young Zhang Yan laboring to keep her warm, teasing: “Aunt, they say you’re tough. Don’t give in to Auntie’s wishes. Stay bundled by the fire. If we run out of wood, I’ll fetch more.” A bittersweet smile touched her lips. “If I survived those winters, now with a warm bed and plenty, what’s to fear? I’ll just stay indoors all winter. Will that do?”
Those days had been hell—frostbitten ears, hands, and feet. Thank heavens she’d been simple-minded then, enduring silently. Though those memories weren’t hers, inheriting the original host’s past made them vivid.
Madam Mu, warming herself indoors, seethed hearing her son prioritize this woman over his own prospects. What kind of wife was this? Jicheng spoiled her rotten. Swallowing her anger, she resolved to lecture him later.
Born to wealth—countless shops and lands, a match for her husband’s noble status—Madam Mu had been coddled since childhood. Marriage brought further indulgence, making her haughty and unopposed. Yet her son defied her, leaving her helpless. Only a noble daughter-in-law would do—this country bumpkin lacked all propriety.
After the meal, Jicheng wiped his brow with a cloth Chunfu handed him. Their affectionate exchange deepened Madam Mu’s displeasure.
“Soon, your elder brother returns to the capital on business. Settle your affairs and come with him. Most importantly, pay respects at the Mu ancestral shrine to confirm your status. Your father’s birthday approaches—were he alive, he’d rejoice. Your brother’s official duties leave our shops untended. I’m weary after all these years. Once you return, they’ll be yours.” Though the lamb noodles were tasty, their gaminess put her off. Watching Chunfu eat heartily, she frowned imperceptibly.
Jicheng set down his chopsticks: “I’m accustomed to farm life. Wealth doesn’t suit me. We’re content as we are—no need for your concern.” He retrieved two pieces of jewelry left by his adoptive mother and placed them before Madam Mu: “I never understood why she insisted I never pawn these. Now I do. Such finery is useless to me. Please take them back.”
Madam Mu’s composure cracked. Seeing her favorite pieces, her eyes reddened: “In my grief, I imagined the worst—had you died? Been sold by treacherous servants? Now I see I wronged Cuiping. She raised you safely. My kindness to her wasn’t wasted.”
She, who always distinguished rank, had treated maid Cuiping as a sister. Guilt gnawed at her for suspecting Cuiping.
Jicheng merely smiled. Her resolve was firm, but so was his—he wouldn’t forsake his life in Dongpo Village.
Night had fallen. Though Madam Mu wished to stay, the waiting yamen runners forced her departure. Offering two maids, she eyed Jicheng but addressed Chunfu: “Housework is women’s domain. Why meddle? From now on, servants will handle such chores.”
Jicheng declined: “Our home’s too small. Please take them back. Chunfu and I manage well. It’s late—travel safely.”
With daylight gone, Madam Mu could only comply. Casting a meaningful glance at Chunfu, she boarded her carriage.
Chunfu understood that look. Yet as Jicheng’s birth mother, she held her tongue. Jicheng’s refusal stemmed from love for his mother. His choices would guide her—wherever he went, she’d follow. Home was wherever their hearts remained true.
Later, Madam Mu arrived at dawn, her carriage and servants drawing village gossip. Tales grew wilder with each retelling—Jicheng, it seemed, was a nobleman all along! Talk inevitably turned to Chunfu’s luck, with some even asking Li Xiu’e: “If they leave for the capital, will you get their land and house?”
Li Xiu’e, wiser now, shrugged: “Even kin don’t share property. It’s theirs to decide. If they forget us, what can we do?”
At home, she spared Chunmu the news. His worsening cough—now bloody—consumed her. The doctor’s diagnosis—consumption—left her distraught. “Spare no expense!” she begged. “He must recover!”
Nearby, Xiuhua watched sadly. Chunmu, once the village’s handsomest lad, now lay pale as snow—fate’s cruel joke.
Tai Sui Yellow Amulet Paper FuLu Taoist Love Talisman Traditional Chinese Spiritual Charm Attracting Love Protecting Marriage