Chapter 92:

After that day, Meiniang came to see Jicheng again, tearfully pouring out her grievances, insisting that the incident in the village had nothing to do with her. She couldn’t understand why the village head had listened to the villagers and decided to drive her out. She rambled on endlessly at the entrance of the yard until she saw Jicheng emerge from the house with a stick in hand, at which point she shrank back and left.

The news of Uncle Ji’s illness didn’t reach Chunfu and the others until the next day. Jicheng went up the mountain to catch two fish and brought some nourishing items to visit him. Seeing the once-vigorous uncle now lying in bed, his temples white as frost, his eyes sunken, and his lips cracked, he looked as if he had aged more than a decade overnight. When Jicheng arrived, he noticed Jikun standing outside the yard, hunched over and occasionally peering inside, looking anxious. Upon seeing Jicheng, Jikun snorted disdainfully. It seemed he knew he had gone too far. After all, blood ties ran deep, and the conscience he had buried for so long finally saw the light of day.

When Uncle Ji saw Jicheng, he waved his hand weakly and said, “Why bring all this? Save it for your wife. This old body of mine wouldn’t be a loss even if I died tomorrow.”

Jicheng urged him, “Uncle, focus on recovering first. Don’t talk like that.”

Uncle Ji shook his head. “You don’t understand. Burying someone younger than me—it’s unbearable. I waited so many years to finally see my grandson, such a tiny child. I was even afraid to hold him, worried I might hurt him. Who would’ve thought he’d be gone before he even had a chance to stay in my arms? In this life, I’ve failed your parents, failed you and Jiliang. This is heaven’s punishment for me. What sins have I committed in this life?”

Jicheng glanced at Aunt Ji, who was weeping beside the bed, and said softly, “I heard Chunju and the child haven’t been placed in coffins yet. Whatever mistakes were made, they’re gone now. At least give them a proper farewell. If not for Chunju’s sake, then for the child’s. The mother and child are too tightly bound; it’s impossible to separate them…”

Uncle Ji grew agitated again. “That beast Jikun can still sit idle, utterly useless. I doubt he’ll ever change in this lifetime. Tell him for me—no matter what, they were his people. He should arrange their burial. Your wife is pregnant; go home early. Don’t let this unclean energy cling to you. Take a cinnabar pouch with you to ward off evil. When you go to town next, could you pass a message to Jiliang for me? Tell him I miss him, that this old man wants to see him. Who knows how many days I have left? I might close my eyes and kick the bucket any moment.”

Jicheng’s heart ached. His uncle had always been a proud man, someone who valued face above all else, as he often said. Yet now, in his twilight years when he should have been enjoying peace, disaster had struck. Jicheng murmured an acknowledgment and left. There wasn’t much else to say. People were like this—when they were healthy and strong, they barely interacted, but once trouble arose, the sudden concern felt hollow.

Jikun eventually buried the bodies that had been kept at home for a day. He resented Chunju but pitied his child. Though anxious, he also resented his father for driving him out and caring only for another man’s son. Yet he didn’t dare enter the house. Every time he stood outside the yard, he thought that if he just took one step forward and apologized, perhaps his father would forgive him. But the moment he saw his mother’s frosty expression, he knew it was hopeless.

Chunfu remained silent for a while, saying little. In the end, focusing on their own lives was what mattered most.

Coincidentally, someone from the city arrived with supplies, sparing Jicheng a trip. He asked them to pass a message to Jiliang’s shop on their way back. Life gradually returned to normal. Two months later, Chunfu’s belly had grown noticeably, and her morning sickness had eased. Instead, she craved both sour and spicy foods, leaving Jicheng—who had eagerly consulted the elders—perplexed. Sour meant a boy, spicy meant a girl. What did it mean if she wanted both?

The New Year was just a month away. With Chunfu heavily pregnant, Jicheng didn’t let her do much, though she still prepared the fruit preserves for the shop, with him assisting to make it easier. The two pigs they raised had grown plump and healthy, fetching a good price despite the winter cold. They had initially planned to celebrate the New Year in the capital, but Jicheng couldn’t bear the thought of Chunfu suffering the journey, so they decided to wait until after the birth. Chunfu was relieved to avoid the bumpy ride and focused on preparing for the festivities. This would be her first New Year here, the first major celebration since marrying Jicheng, and with their little one on the way.

At home, Chunfu either sewed clothes, snacked, or chatted with Liansheng’s wife, Jinjuan. When Jicheng was home, he often sat in a corner, working while watching her, smiling when she laughed. During this time, Qiaoyun married another man. When Jiliang returned to visit Uncle Ji and heard the news, he remained silent, sharing a drink with Jicheng before leaving. Chunfu knew his heart had likely grown cold, and his hopes of returning were gone.

In less than a year, so much had happened in the village. The village head often wondered aloud if they had offended some force to have so much misfortune. As the New Year approached, he led the villagers to the small temple to burn extra incense and offer fine sacrifices, praying for Dongpo Village’s peace and prosperity in the coming year.

When Jicheng went to town, aside from buying the window decorations, couplets, a pound of mutton, and five pounds of pork that Chunfu had asked for, he also picked up snacks like melon seeds, peanuts, and sesame candy, treating himself to something sweet. He also bought two feet of fashionable fabric. He didn’t know why Chunfu wanted so much pork, but the butcher, seeing his plain attire yet willingness to spend freely, thought him a man of hidden depths.

As his donkey cart was about to leave town, someone called out from behind. Turning, he saw Zhou Jing and quickly reined in the donkey, smiling. “Got everything ready for the New Year? If you’re feeling lonely, come celebrate with us. Chunfu had me buy plenty. We can share a drink.”

Zhou Jing shook his head, panting. “After the New Year, I’m heading into the mountains. The sooner I get Manager An’s things, the sooner I can settle my affairs and live peacefully like you and your wife. While I’m gone, could you look after my orchard? A good harvest means good money next year.”

Jicheng frowned. “We agreed I’d go to Cangwu Mountain with you. Don’t decide on your own. Just let me know when it’s time.”

Zhou Jing scratched his head awkwardly. “Your wife’s pregnant. She needs you. Who knows what the mountains hold? I can’t agree to this.”

Jicheng clapped his shoulder. “We’re going for business, not leisure. Grab the stones and come back—it won’t take long. Don’t overthink it. Your sister-in-law’s waiting for me. Drop by when you can.”

Watching the cart disappear, Zhou Jing felt both grateful and guilty.

The biting wind cut deep, but the donkey trotted briskly. Jicheng hunched his shoulders. He didn’t want to leave Chunfu, but when he’d promised Zhou Jing, he hadn’t known she’d be pregnant. He didn’t want to worry her, but he couldn’t let his friend down either. All he could hope for was good luck and a swift return.

When Jicheng got home, Chunfu had just finished sewing their baby’s clothes. Smiling, she said, “Now the little one has enough clothes. No need to rush later. Oh, the county office sent someone this morning, asking when you’re leaving for the capital. The magistrate plans to visit tomorrow. I didn’t refuse outright—your mother wants to see you, not me. You can tell them yourself.”

“Let’s not talk about that. This New Year is just for us. On my way back, I ran into Zhou Jing. He’s going to Cangwu Mountain after the New Year, and I’m going with him. If all goes well, I’ll be back in half a month. I can’t let him go alone—he’s the last of the Zhou family. If I didn’t know him, fine, but he’s a good friend. I can’t stand by. It’s just hard on you…”

Chunfu understood his guilt. She patted his still-cold cheek. “I get it. Just be careful. I’ll wait for you.” To Chunfu, she could empathize with Jicheng. Though Cangwu Mountain held unknowns, keeping him home would only leave him regretful and unhappy. She also valued Zhou Jing deeply, admiring his devotion to Miss An. She hoped he’d win her heart soon.

With the serious matters settled, they turned to preparing for the New Year. Jicheng brought out the snacks he’d bought for her. Chunfu loved the sugar-coated peanuts and ate quite a few. Jicheng, worried she’d get thirsty, had already poured her a glass of water.

“Why so much pork? We can’t possibly eat it all.”

Chunfu took a sip of water before replying, “Of course we can. I’ll make different dishes, and you’ll see five pounds isn’t enough. It’s cold—it won’t spoil. And it’s not like we’ll finish it in one meal. If guests come, we’ll have something nice to serve.”

Jicheng had no idea what she was planning but smiled and let her have her way. On a clear day, Chunfu set to work, though she only handled the seasoning—Jicheng took care of the heavy lifting.

True to his years of cooking experience, Jicheng worked meticulously. When Chunfu asked him to slice the pork thin, he did so beautifully, earning her praise that turned his ears red. Embarrassed, he scolded lightly, “Hurry up and sit down. Don’t overwork yourself.”

Chunfu stuck out her tongue. She stir-fried ginger, scallions, and garlic until fragrant, then added fermented tofu sauce. Once ready, she poured it over the pre-sliced pork. To serve, they’d steam it. Another portion of meat was topped with pickled cabbage she’d made earlier in winter, prepared the same way.

Next came pork meatballs. She minced the lean meat, mixed it with egg, salt, scallions, and ginger, then shaped it into bite-sized balls. After steaming them, they’d only need reheating later.

The lean meat was Chunfu’s favorite. As a child, her parents had told her that in the countryside, such dishes were only served at weddings, part of a set called the “Eight Great Bowls.” By the time she was born, her family had moved to the city, and she’d never had the chance to try such rustic fare.

Watching her prepare these unfamiliar dishes, Jicheng suddenly felt curious. “I’ve never seen this in the village. Where’d you learn it?”

Chunfu paused. He’d never cared about such things before. Was he so bored now that he was asking questions? She chuckled. “While you were working in town, I had time to think up ways to pass the time. Back then, we longed for meat but couldn’t afford it. Now, I can finally try these ideas. Not sure if they’ll taste good, but you can try the lean meat later—fried or steamed.”

His doubts dispelled, Jicheng smiled and followed her instructions. Working together made the tasks quicker and easier. Laughing and chatting, the day flew by. Though Chunfu didn’t do much, she still grew tired. At night, sleep didn’t come easily until Jicheng massaged her aches away.

“I can’t wait to see what our child looks like, to hear them cry beside me. Just thinking about it makes me restless. These months feel so long.” What Chunfu didn’t say was her fear. Many had told her childbirth was excruciating, even deadly… Nervously, she clenched her fists, biting her knuckles lightly.

Jicheng pulled her close, sensing her tension. “What’s wrong? Are you unwell?”

Chunfu forced a laugh. “No, it’s nothing. Let’s sleep.” Nestling into his embrace, she relaxed at his familiar warmth and scent. Closing her eyes, she whispered, “Jicheng, when I give birth, you can’t leave me. You have to stay with me, or I’ll never forgive you.”

Amused, Jicheng enveloped her small hand in his and kissed it. “Don’t worry. I won’t go anywhere. I’ll be right beside you, watching our child come into the world. Our life’s only getting better. Sleep now.”

The long night stretched on, moonless and starless. The gloom in the sky hinted at change.

After buying the orchard, Zhou Jing had made minor repairs to the small house there and moved in. He’d sold his family’s village home, unsure if his deceased parents would curse him for squandering their only asset. The thought made him smile. In life, sometimes you had to lose to gain.

Earlier, Yuning had urged him to abandon his trip to Cangwu Mountain and find another woman, saying she wasn’t worth it. He’d refused. Worth wasn’t for her to decide. His heart had been hers since the moment they met. This path was his only chance to build a life with her. Let others call him a fool—he couldn’t imagine life without her.

He was a man of no prospects, he knew it well, yet he couldn’t help but yearn to give her a life worthy of her. Gazing at this orchard that belonged to him, imagining next year when they would watch the leaves grow, the flowers bloom, and the fruits ripen together, anticipating another bountiful harvest, his heart swelled with joy.

Life became interesting precisely because there was hope. Though not yet old, he had already learned to hope—like a fool, eagerly awaiting the return of his long-absent wife.

The cold wind rampaged through the small hut, but he only tightened the quilt around himself without curling up. He believed that the more one shrank from the cold, the colder one would feel, and it would wear away the resolve to stand tall and face challenges. The New Year was just days away. He had only bought some Spring Festival couplets, pasting them on the hut to liven things up a little. Once everything was settled, he’d celebrate properly next year. For the first time, he truly felt his own poverty, relying solely on this thick-skinned persistence—never revealed in front of Yu Ning—to carry him this far.

Time flew, and in the blink of an eye, it was New Year’s Eve. Zhou Jing listened to the crackling firecrackers outside and watched the colorful fireworks exploding in the sky, unable to suppress a smile. But he couldn’t let his guard down. He didn’t dare set off firecrackers himself, fearing accidents, and naturally, he had to be wary of others too.

After making a round, he set down the lantern in his hand, rubbed his palms together, and turned back. Just as he reached his small hut, he spotted a delicate figure clad in a white snow-fox fur robe. A surge of joy rose in his heart. Clearing his throat, he approached. “What brings you here so late at night?”

Yu Ning lifted the food box in her hands. She had waited so long that her limbs were nearly frozen stiff. Seeing her hands reddened by the cold, Zhou Jing felt both sweetness and heartache. He grabbed her hands and pressed them against his chest, murmuring softly, “There’s a stove inside—you could’ve waited by the fire. Why torture yourself like this? It pains me.” With that, he took the food box and pulled her inside, oblivious to the conflict and hesitation on her face.

What Yu Ning hadn’t expected was that the usually reserved Zhou Jing would suddenly pin her against the door and kiss her fiercely—like a greedy beast, wild and domineering—leaving her breathless and unable to break free. When he finally released her, before she could even catch her breath, he moved behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. His voice, thick with desire, was low and magnetic: “Yu Ning, I adore you. I never thought you’d come to see me. This is the happiest day of my life. Don’t worry—once I finish the task your father assigned me, I’ll come to marry you. We’ll be together for the rest of our lives.”

The struggle and pain in Yu Ning’s eyes vanished in an instant, replaced by an overwhelming chill—piercing and merciless. Her delicate voice dripped with venom: “Zhou Jing, do you really think I’d ever fancy a man like you? Where did you get the confidence to believe I’d willingly endure this pitiful, impoverished life with you? An orchard? I, An Yu Ning, have worn gold and silver since childhood, dined on delicacies from land and sea. I have no patience for someone like you, clawing your way up step by step. How long do you plan to climb? A year? Two? Or your entire lifetime? Zhou Jing, I can’t wait for you. What I want isn’t just money—it’s glory. Can you give me that? No. So what right do you have to speak of marrying me?”

Zhou Jing’s arms around her slowly loosened. As Yu Ning watched him step back, a bitter ache spread through her chest. Why did this outcome, which she had long anticipated, still hurt so much?

Zhou Jing turned her to face him, studying her expression under the dim light, searching for even the slightest hint of deception. “Yu Ning, you’re joking, aren’t you? These aren’t your true feelings. You’re lying to me, right?”

Yu Ning lifted her gaze to meet his. Her star-bright eyes were steady and deep, devoid of the reluctant affection he had hoped to see. The fire in his eyes extinguished under her icy indifference. His hands, gripping her shoulders, finally fell away. He laughed at himself. “Right, of course. It’s not your fault. I’m the shameless one who kept clinging to you. You’re a lady of high standing—it must’ve been hard for you to hold back the truth until now. Do you find me ridiculous? But your father promised that if I accomplished his task, he’d betroth you to me. So even if you despise me, it doesn’t matter. My love for you is enough.”

Yu Ning’s beautiful eyes widened in fury. “Do you really think he’d ever give me to you? Never. Stop daydreaming. I don’t love a wretched man like you. The one I’ll marry is someone like Pei Qian—handsome, talented, from an unparalleled family. Marrying him would elevate me to nobility. Don’t cling to me anymore. You’ll ruin my path to wealth and status. If Madam Pei finds out, my dreams will shatter. I’m begging you—please!”

Her pleading gaze, as if he were some repulsive vermin, stabbed at his heart. The insecurity and fragility he had long suppressed surged up violently, threatening to tear him apart. Unable to control himself, he knocked over the food box on the table. The aroma of the dishes teased his empty stomach, but all he felt was bitter irony.

“So that’s how it is. I understand. You can leave now. Go!” He roared at her like a wounded child. No one knew how hard he had fought against his own worthlessness to cling to her. He had ignored the scorn and mockery of others because he had already berated himself endlessly in his heart. Yet in the end, she still plunged a knife into him, leaving him breathless with pain. She was cold and indifferent, while he was the fool who had become a laughingstock.

Even he hadn’t realized that the thread in his heart had been stretched to its breaking point—until it finally snapped. His face was cold, lips pressed tightly together as if suppressing something. In a low voice, he said, “Go. Whether Shopkeeper An deceived me or not, I’ll fulfill what I promised. You didn’t have to force yourself to humor me. Giving me hope only to crush it is crueler than never offering it at all. At least then I wouldn’t be in such agony. Sorry for the scene… I must’ve frightened you.” His words were disjointed as he turned and walked toward the small wooden bed.

His retreating figure looked desolate and lonely. Yet she still delivered the final blow, hurting just as much as he did: “I’m betrothed to Pei Qian. I’m leaving now. I hope we never meet again.”

The moment she turned away, tears gushed forth uncontrollably. The food in the box had been prepared by her own hands—she had carefully considered his preferences. Yet all her efforts had come to nothing. In her struggle with her father, she couldn’t let him be the sacrificial lamb. She had agreed to the betrothal with Pei Qian. Surely now, he would give up?

All she wanted was for him to abandon his suicidal mission to Cangwu Mountain and live happily—his own life, free and unburdened. That would be enough.