Chapter 88:

Chunmu wandered outside for a long time before returning home with a ghastly pale face. Li Xiu’e had been waiting anxiously and had been peering out into the yard for what felt like ages before she finally saw him slowly making his way back. Under the dim sky, his once tall and straight frame now seemed hunched and even thinner, as if a gust of cold wind could knock him over. The man who had once shouldered the weight of the world for their family had, in the blink of an eye, become like this.

She hurried forward to meet him, scolding in a low voice, “Why did you run off like that? You need to keep warm. The wind outside is so harsh—you’ll only feel worse. I made you some shredded pork noodles. Come and have a taste.”

Chunmu let Li Xiu’e take his stiff, frozen hand and forced a faint smile. “Why go to such trouble? I’m not picky. Life is what it is—let it be.”

Li Xiu’e turned and glared at him. “Chunmu, I don’t believe in fate. I won’t just stand by and watch you go down that path. We have to fight it—we must fight our way through. For me and for Zhang Tong, you can’t just give up.”

Chunmu curved his lips slightly and patted her shoulder. “I know. Don’t overthink it. I understand that a miserable life is better than a good death.”

Li Xiu’e had only made one bowl of shredded pork noodles for Chunmu. For herself and Zhang Tong, it was just a pot of stew with floating dough lumps. Chunmu couldn’t bear it and tried to give some of his shredded pork to Zhang Tong, but the boy hugged his bowl and dodged, smiling. “Dad, you eat it. You need to nourish yourself. I’m strong—I don’t need it.”

Since starting school, Zhang Tong had changed completely, becoming more like a little adult. The books were full of lessons on morality, and he not only studied diligently but also used them to discipline himself. He felt deep guilt over Zhang Yan, who had disappeared without a trace. Enlightenment often comes in a single moment. In the past, he had acted on impulse, but now he realized how wrong that was. Filial piety to parents and brotherly love—these were the things that truly mattered.

Li Xiu’e stroked her son’s head approvingly and smiled. “Zhang Tong has always been sensible. Hurry up and eat. After you’re done, soak your feet and go lie down on the kang.”

Chunmu had no choice but to eat the noodles bite by bite. Though he couldn’t taste much, he felt an indescribable warmth in his heart. The gloom that had weighed on him for days suddenly lifted, and he finally spoke his mind: “I went to see Chunfu and asked her to help us so Zhang Tong can keep studying. He’s the only promising one in our family—I can’t let him drop out halfway. What does my pride matter now?”

Just then, Third Uncle’s voice rang out from outside the yard. He had just returned from town and had brought something someone had asked him to deliver. Li Xiu’e and Chunmu stepped out, and Third Uncle said with a smile, “A young fellow came to me today and asked me to bring this to you. Didn’t say who sent it.”

Li Xiu’e thanked Third Uncle but couldn’t think of anyone who would send them gifts for no reason. Back inside, she unwrapped the package to find a stack of thick clothes with a few taels of silver tucked inside. She searched thoroughly but found no clue as to who had sent it.

Zhang Tong, standing nearby, spoke up: “It must be Big Brother. He always folds clothes like this—neatly, no matter how good or bad they are.”

Chunmu sighed and turned back to the dining table, smiling wryly. “That boy. After how I treated him, he still remembers us. I wonder if I’ll even get to see him before I die. Well, let’s eat.”

Li Xiu’e noticed that the fabric wasn’t of good quality, and she had no idea how he’d managed to save those three taels of silver. As a mother, her heart had been biased, but could she really have been indifferent to him? Yet she simply couldn’t bring herself to like his temperament. Seeing him do so many unlikable things had only made her resentful.

The three of them sat together without saying much more. After the meal, they each went about their own tasks. Zhang Tong wiped his face and returned to his room, clutching the book by his pillow, but his thoughts drifted far away. In the past, he had been domineering, always happiest when his mother scolded his brother. Now, with his brother gone and the house feeling empty, he suddenly couldn’t understand why his parents had treated Big Brother that way. Big Brother wasn’t much older than him but was already struggling to survive outside. If it were him, he’d surely hate them—yet Big Brother still thought to send things home.

The schoolteacher was a principled man, strict with himself and demanding of his students. If someone’s character was flawed, no amount of money could buy their way in. It was under his guidance that Zhang Tong had been set back on the right path. The saying “One takes on the color of one’s company” held true.

The next day, Jicheng prepared some items that were uncommon in the village. Knowing the hardships Chunmu’s family faced due to his illness, they decided not to skimp and brought what could be considered a small fortune with them.

Chunfu harbored deep resentment toward her elder brother’s family—both for her past self and for Zhang Yan. When asked to support Zhang Tong’s education, she deliberated and concluded that giving money was best. Frequent interactions would only invite ulterior motives she couldn’t afford. She discussed it with Jicheng, added more money to round the sum, and considered it her duty fulfilled.

As the couple entered the yard, they saw Zhang Tong sweeping with reddened hands, muttering to himself—likely reciting something from his books. Chunfu felt a pang of mixed emotions. Though she didn’t particularly like the boy, it was clear he genuinely loved studying.

Zhang Tong noticed them and approached. “Aunt, Uncle, I heard Aunt has a little brother on the way. When he’s older, I can teach him to read and write too.”

Chunfu was surprised. When had this child become so polite and articulate? His calm expression, faint smile, and harmless demeanor made her reach out and pat his head. “Good boy. Do you enjoy studying? I heard you reciting earlier.”

Zhang Tong scratched his head awkwardly. In the past, he would have avoided his uncle out of fear they still disliked him. Now, seeing his uncle smiling gently, he said softly, “The teacher explained it roughly to me. If I memorize it now, I’ll understand it better later.” He seemed embarrassed, as if afraid his parents would find out—he knew the family could no longer afford his education.

Reading helps one distinguish right from wrong, so he ought to continue. Chunfu nodded. “Luckily, it’s only been a day. If you go back tomorrow, you won’t fall behind much. Remember what the teacher teaches you, and treat others with sincerity. Don’t ruin the best path for yourself.”

Zhang Tong sniffled, his nose red from the cold, his face lighting up with joy as he nodded emphatically.

Since becoming pregnant, Chunfu’s heart had softened. She had favored Zhang Yan, but seeing Zhang Tong’s transformation filled her with resignation. How could adults hold grudges against children? At such a young age, he had recognized his faults and changed. In life, the rarest thing was a heart that could discern good from evil and know what was right and wrong. Zhang Tong was her nephew too—she could no longer turn a blind eye.

Inside, Li Xiu’e sat with Chunmu, trying to cheer him up with light conversation. The medicine had eased his cough, but his paper-white complexion showed no sign of improvement, and her anxiety grew. Hearing voices outside, she sighed. “It must be Chunfu and Jicheng. They never visit otherwise. She clearly doesn’t care about you as her brother.”

Chunmu waved a hand. “Enough. We always wanted to take advantage of her, but our lives are our own. Heaven didn’t bless us with wealth—what can we do? Go invite them in.”

In the past, he had genuinely hoped to benefit from Chunfu and Jicheng. But as the couple grew colder toward him, treating him almost like an enemy, he gradually abandoned the idea. How could he just lie around because he was sick? The family still needed him. Only when he closed his eyes for good would his work be done.

Li Xiu’e led them in and offered them seats. Chunfu handed over the things they’d brought, sighing. “Jicheng found some rare items—they might help Brother regain his appetite. There’s also some silver for household expenses. I’m not in the best shape myself, so I can’t visit often.”

Li Xiu’e accepted the gifts with a smile, her weary face looking older. “Talk with your brother first. I’ll go fetch you some water.” In the other room, her spirits lifted at the sight of the ten taels of silver. At least Chunmu’s medicine was covered now—she wouldn’t have to scramble for money. Her own family was poor; even if they wanted to help, they couldn’t spare much. Poverty made every step forward a struggle.

Chunmu looked at Chunfu’s rare kindness. In all their years as siblings, they had hardly ever sat down for a proper conversation. Now, with time running short, he found so much he wanted to say—yet the rift between them made even his attempts at being a good older brother feel forced. He cut to the chase: “Why did you come? Be careful not to catch my illness. Seems like this is the retribution I deserve for how I treated you. Don’t bother comforting me—I’ve seen people with consumption cough themselves to death. I know I won’t escape that fate. I just worry about your sister-in-law and Zhang Tong… and Zhang Yan, who’s vanished without a trace. I’ve truly wronged him.”

Chunfu didn’t know what to say. In all these years, they had never truly opened up to each other. She had despised her brother and sister-in-law for their greed and callousness and had resigned herself to cutting ties forever. But in the face of fleeting life, none of that seemed to matter anymore.

“There are many things in this world that can’t be explained. Don’t lose heart, Brother. Focus on recovering and live peacefully from now on.”

Serious matters were best discussed between men. As a woman, Chunfu’s perspective was naturally limited. Now that their lives were more comfortable, Chunmu was willing to swallow his pride and beg them to look after Li Xiu’e and Zhang Tong. After a violent coughing fit, he sat up against the wall to catch his breath before speaking: “Jicheng, your family is the most well-off in our village. If I really go, please—for the sake of our close ties—look after them. Just make sure they have enough to eat and wear. Your sister-in-law may be sharp-tongued, but she’s hardworking. If you ever need help, just call on her—consider her your hired hand.”

Chunfu disliked his defeatist attitude—giving up without even trying. She had once hated Chunmu for his cruelty, for mistreating her, even for trying to sell her into a brothel. Though fate had spared her that horror, she still believed his and Li Xiu’e’s hearts were rotten. She didn’t want to agree—she knew all too well how troublesome Li Xiu’e could be. But the pleading desperation in Chunmu’s eyes left her at a loss for words. She turned to Jicheng.

Jicheng smiled. “Of course. Come spring, we’ll have plenty of work. Sister-in-law can help then, and I’ll pay her wages. Don’t worry, Brother—I won’t shortchange family.” He had wanted to say something harsher, but the circumstances didn’t allow it. He swallowed his words.

Chunmu invited them to stay for lunch, but Chunfu declined, citing other tasks. She and Jicheng left together. On the quiet road, Jicheng held Chunfu’s small hand in his. After a moment, she said, “With your mother away, I feel much more at ease. Since we’re out, let’s go up the mountain. It’s still early—we can catch a fish for soup.”

In winter, Qingshui Mountain was starkly beautiful, its slopes dusted with lingering snow like a graceful woman wrapped in white fur—elegant and enchanting. This serene world, untouched by the bustle below the bridge, was theirs alone.

Of course, there were still those desperate enough to scavenge the mountain for food or fortune. After being caught by Jicheng several times, they grew too ashamed to return. His glare was terrifying, and times had changed—even taking firewood counted as theft. They had no choice but to venture to a more distant mountain. The villagers, quick to spot an opportunity, soon followed suit, gathering mushrooms, wood ears, and silver ears to sell for modest profits. But the smaller mountain couldn’t compare to Qingshui’s bounty, and with so many competing for its resources, none could match Jicheng and Chunfu’s success. Many seethed with envy, cursing their own lack of foresight—if only they’d thought of it sooner, they too could be living well. Instead, they were left scrambling among the chickens and ducks.

The couple had eaten before leaving, so they weren’t hungry and stayed longer on the mountain. Jicheng checked the traps as usual and was pleasantly surprised to find a rabbit and a pheasant—in winter, even dead prey wouldn’t spoil. He reset the traps, planning to prepare the pheasant for Chunfu when they returned.

Chunfu, bundled up like a plump dumpling, lifted her skirt as she followed him. Jicheng walked slowly so she could keep up.

“Jicheng, when do you plan to go to the capital? Come back soon. I’ll be so lonely without you.”

Jicheng couldn’t bear the thought of leaving her either. He smiled. “We’re husband and wife—where I go, you go. How could I go alone? I’m only doing this so our child can have a better future. Whatever path they choose, we’ll pave the way so they won’t resent us later. As for me, a simple life in our little home is all I want.”

Chunfu walked with him to the riverside, watching as he skillfully broke the ice to fish. Resting her chin on her hand, she said, “Jicheng, I won’t go to the capital with you. The first three months are too delicate for travel—I must take extra care to protect him. The Mu family has acknowledged you, and that means they’ve acknowledged us too. Whether I go or not doesn’t matter. I’ll wait for you at home.”

Jicheng’s hands paused. He gave her a deep look and nodded. “That’s fine. The journey would be rough, and I wouldn’t feel at ease. While I’m gone, don’t deprive yourself or our child of anything. Eat well—don’t skimp just because I’m not here.”

Chunfu had been eating eggs every day. She wasn’t greedy by nature and wanted to save them for him, but before she could even act on it, he had already guessed her thoughts. Embarrassed, she rubbed the tip of her nose and urged him to focus on the river.

Jicheng busied himself preparing a hearty meal and invited Liansheng’s wife and Jinjuan’s family over for a lively gathering, hoping they would look after Chunfu while he was away. Jinjuan teased with a laugh, “Once you leave, I’ll come keep Chunfu company and learn her cooking skills. It’ll be better than any formal apprenticeship!”

With everything settled, Jicheng finally set off with Muhong. The sky was overcast that day, as if snow might fall at any moment. Chunfu stood outside the courtyard, watching the carriage grow smaller in the distance. She glanced up at the gloomy heavens and thought bitterly that even the weather refused to be kind—Jicheng’s first long journey, and not a single ray of sunshine to send him off. A sigh escaped her lips, her breath forming a mist in the cold air, unable to mask her sorrow and reluctance.

True enough, heavy snow soon began to fall. She lingered outside until her shoulders and hair were dusted white, fearing she might catch a chill before finally forcing herself to go back inside.

Inside the warm, spacious carriage, Muhong noticed Jicheng glancing back repeatedly, long after the village had disappeared from sight. He chuckled lightly. “Don’t worry. I’ve already arranged for people to look after your wife. Nothing will happen. Mother will likely introduce you to the estate’s stewards, and that alone will take at least a month. I’ve made preparations so you won’t have to fret.”

Jicheng nodded, though his mind was already dreading the long month ahead. They passed through Changfeng County, Tongzhou, and Cangzhou before finally reaching the capital after seven days of travel. Jicheng couldn’t help but exhale in relief.

The capital, where the emperor resided, was a city of unparalleled prosperity. The people bustling through the streets were all finely dressed. Jicheng glanced down at his own clothes, feeling starkly out of place. Before he could dwell on it further, the clamor of the streets faded into silence as the carriage came to a stop. He lifted the curtain and stepped out, finding himself before the imposing gates of a grand estate.

The doors swung open, and Madam Mu, adorned in exquisite finery, hurried forward with a radiant smile. She took his hands, examining him from head to toe. “My son, you must be exhausted from the journey. I’ve prepared a courtyard for you—go freshen up and change. The kitchen has prepared a meal for you and your brother. And just in time—your Aunt Tang is visiting. You should meet her.”

Having agreed to acknowledge his roots, Jicheng knew he had to adjust his address, though it still felt unfamiliar. After a struggle, he managed to call her “Mother.” Even so, Madam Mu was overjoyed, her eyes glistening as she pulled him inside. “Let’s not stand at the gate. Come in and warm up first.”

She had arranged for Jicheng to stay in the Changchun Garden, closest to her own quarters. The servants, having received word in advance, had already prepared hot water and fresh clothes. The old lady clearly doted on this long-lost second son—not only providing him with the finest comforts but also assigning her most trusted and capable maid to attend to him.

As Jicheng entered the room and began removing his outer robe, a pair of delicate, slender hands suddenly touched his shoulders. His expression darkened instantly. “Leave. I can manage on my own.” He disliked being watched by strangers, and the thought of another woman’s presence irked him. His tone left no room for argument.

The maid, Yuxia, had served the old lady for years and was well-versed in her mistress’s intentions. With her striking beauty, many—including herself—assumed she was meant to become Jicheng’s concubine. After all, being a concubine was far better than remaining a servant. She had planned to win him over, but this man, dressed in coarse clothing yet exuding an intimidating aura, left her flustered. With a meek “Yes,” she withdrew.

Jicheng washed and changed into the luxurious robes laid out for him. As he was about to tie up his hair, Yuxia’s voice came from the door. “Second Master, are you ready? The old lady instructed me to assist you. Please don’t make this difficult for me.”

Normally, Jicheng would simply tie his hair back for practicality, but before he could respond, Yuxia entered without waiting for permission. He frowned but held back from sending her away. Unlike the straightforward life of a farmer, serving others was a delicate art. Relenting, he allowed her to proceed.

Yuxia was skilled, swiftly styling his hair before respectfully leading him to the Fumanyuan, where Madam Mu received guests. The winter scenery along the way was bleak—bare branches swaying in the wind, the frozen pond glistening like a mirror.

“In summer, this is the most beautiful spot in the Mu estate,” Yuxia remarked. “The old lady loves to admire the view and drink tea here. With you by her side, she’ll be even happier.”

Passing through the moon gate, they soon arrived at Fumanyuan. As Jicheng stepped over the threshold, he heard his mother’s cheerful laughter mingling with a young woman’s melodious voice. Just then, Muhong arrived as well. Jicheng greeted him with a “Brother” and followed him inside.

Madam Mu beamed at the sight of her second son, now even more dashing in his new attire. “Look how handsome my son is! Even an old woman like me can’t help but stare.”

Muhong sat down with a chuckle. “Mother, you’re being unfair. Now that you have a second son, you’ve forgotten about me. My heart is wounded.”

Madam Mu motioned for Jicheng to come closer and gestured toward an elegant woman seated nearby. “This is Aunt Tang, the dear friend I mentioned. Decades of life’s changes, yet our bond remains as strong as ever. And you must have met Xiaoxiao—that lively, mischievous girl.”

Tang Xiaoxiao was equally astonished. The first time she had seen him, he had merely been a somewhat handsome man. But now, dressed in a moon-white robe embroidered with gold, he stood tall and striking, his bearing commanding and his presence impossible to ignore. Hearing Madam Mu’s teasing, she protested playfully, “Auntie, how unfair! When have I ever been a wild girl?”