Chapter 93:

Zhou Jing lay on the small wooden bed, his anger still simmering. The faint sound of footsteps grew increasingly distant until they faded away completely. Only then did he sit up, staring blankly at the flickering candlelight. The aroma of the spilled dishes on the floor filled the air, and amidst the mess, he suddenly spotted a small plate of oil cakes in the overturned basket. He remembered her smiling as she told him that whenever she was upset, she would make his favorite oil cakes for him.

So she had been unhappy. People often said women were sentimental and easily moved. He couldn’t believe she had remained unaffected all this time. Could there have been some unavoidable hardship? He quickly ran outside. The road was swallowed by darkness, and two figures walked slowly ahead. He heard one say, “Miss, why bother? Why cook for someone like him? You could’ve just sent someone to tell him. It’s so cold—what if you catch a chill?”

Yu Ning wiped her tears and replied, “He’s stubborn. If I didn’t come myself, he wouldn’t believe me. I’m not the kind of person who changes affections so easily, but I’m afraid of dragging him down. His family is respectable—he should marry a good girl and live a peaceful life. Why should he be entangled with someone like me, enduring hardship every day? My father is a shrewd man, and Zhou Jing wouldn’t fare well in his hands. I’ll be the villain here. Anyway, all I want in this life is to avenge my mother and brother, to make sure that woman and my father pay for what they did.”

“Miss, I don’t know how to help you. Will marrying Young Master Pei really solve everything? Will it bring justice for Madam and the young master?”

Yu Ning sighed, gazing ahead. “Who knows? I just want him to live well. If fate allows, we’ll meet again in the next life. Did I act convincingly earlier? He really believed it.” She let out a light laugh, tinged with sorrow and resignation.

Zhou Jing followed silently behind her, his heart aching at the sight of her slender, fragile figure. This foolish girl. Though he wasn’t particularly capable, he would always stand in front of her to shield her from harm. Why couldn’t she lean on him a little more? Why insist on seeking justice with her own meager strength?

The road was deserted—wasn’t she afraid of attracting the attention of ruffians? How reckless. Once he returned from Cangwu Mountain, he’d have a serious talk with her. He’d make sure to claim more sweetness from her.

All the resentment and self-loathing in his heart melted into sweetness, flowing through him like a gentle stream. He felt a sudden surge of relief—thank goodness he had chased after her. Otherwise, he might have misunderstood her for the rest of his life. If they ended up as a couple living in mutual resentment, why had he fallen for her in the first place? He’d only bring misery upon himself and waste her precious years in sorrow. What kind of life would that be?

He chided himself for his pettiness. Perhaps it was because he loved her too much, cared too deeply, that he couldn’t bear her saying she didn’t love him. She might never know how much her every rejection agitated him. The woman ahead—just a few quick steps, and he could catch up to her. But he dismissed the thought. Better not startle her. How much courage must it have taken for her to draw a line between them? If even he couldn’t accept her coldness, how much harder must it be for her? He, Zhou Jing, was the one at fault. How could he mend the heart he had broken?

From the deserted path to the bustling streets, children gathered to play, and couples strolled under the lanterns. The cold couldn’t dampen the warmth in people’s hearts. The lanterns would remain until the fifteenth day of the first lunar month, but he would already be on his way to Cangwu Mountain. Next year, he’d take her to pick lanterns together.

Only after seeing her safely home did he head back to the orchard, feeling much lighter. Unexpectedly, he ran into Shopkeeper Jin and his daughter Jin Liu’er admiring the lanterns, chatting and laughing.

Shopkeeper Jin was delighted to see the young man he favored. He had already asked his daughter, who also found this handsome lad agreeable. He warmly invited, “If you’re free on New Year’s Day, come visit us. I’ll have Liu’er cook something nice, and you can share a drink with me. I don’t have a son, so drinking alone isn’t much fun.”

Zhou Jing understood the implication but couldn’t outright refuse. He merely said he was busy with orchard work and would visit when he had time. He admired Shopkeeper Jin’s straightforwardness—most fathers would fear gossip, but this man didn’t care what others thought. It raised Zhou Jing’s opinion of him. Yet, his heart already belonged to another, making it awkward to accept the offer.

As Zhou Jing walked away, Jin Liu’er pursed her lips and said, “Father, don’t pressure him too much. I know about him and An Yu Ning. His heart is set on her—why should we force ourselves into the picture? I may fancy him, but I won’t take what isn’t freely given. Let’s wait. Maybe someone better suited for me will come along.”

Shopkeeper Jin shook his head helplessly, tapping her forehead with a chuckle. “You’re too easygoing. When you see something good, you should seize it. Otherwise, where will you go to cry when it’s gone? An Yu Ning has an unreasonable father, but I’m a hundred times better. Even if you snatch him away, I’ll back you up. What’s there to fear?”

Jin Liu’er laughed. “You’re truly the first father in town who doesn’t care about his daughter’s reputation. They say a forced melon isn’t sweet, and I don’t want to spend my days as a resentful wife. Enough—it’s New Year’s. Let’s enjoy the lanterns and leave the unpleasant talk behind.”

Firecrackers lit up the night, filling it with noise and cheer. The ill omens must have hidden in the corners, too afraid to emerge. May the coming year bring favorable winds and smooth sailing, with days growing ever brighter.

On New Year’s Day, Chunfu slept in, rubbing her eyes as she sat up. Jicheng had already folded the blankets and left. She didn’t know what kept him so busy—New Year’s was meant for lazing about. What a workaholic. She gently touched her rounded belly and murmured, “Next year, you’ll celebrate with your parents. Your father will give you a big red envelope, and I’ll save it for you. When you grow up, you can buy whatever you like. There’s nothing wrong with a girl knowing how to spend. Living frugally only makes one stingy—we must never lose our dignity.”

The room was warm as Chunfu slowly dressed and folded the blankets. Yawning, she picked up her pillow and found a red cloth bundle beneath it. Opening it, she discovered a few copper coins and couldn’t help but smile. She looked up just as Jicheng entered, his eyes soft and bright. He rubbed his head and said, “I don’t earn much, but these were given to me by two travelers I helped on the way back from town. I saved them for your New Year’s gift.”

Chunfu grinned. “Are you blaming me for not giving you enough pocket money?”

Jicheng brought her washing supplies and helped her freshen up, chiding gently, “Nonsense. What would I do with money? Lose it? Hurry up—it looks like snow today. Let’s visit Liansheng’s wife to wish her a happy New Year and give the children their red envelopes. Then we’ll come back to cook.”

New Year’s called for new clothes. Chunfu wore a stylish light-green padded jacket and warm boots, her belly protruding. Already petite, she now resembled a cute little ball. Jicheng stroked her hair before stepping into the next room to prepare the red envelopes, adding some peanut candies. Though he didn’t say it, his fondness for children was evident.

Chunfu thought for a moment. “Don’t forget to prepare one for Zhang Tong. He’s still a child and has improved a lot lately—more polite now. And set one aside for Zhang Yan. When he returns, we’ll give it to him. It’ll add up over time.” She chuckled self-deprecatingly.

Jicheng worked swiftly, wrapping the envelopes as she spoke. “Zhang Tong is busy studying. We should get him some stationery. I hadn’t thought of it—we’ll make up for it next time. Don’t think too poorly of Zhang Yan. Maybe he’s found his place but is too busy to visit.”

Chunfu flashed him a sweet, tender smile. “I know.”

Outside, Jicheng had tied red ribbons around the donkey’s shed, the donkey’s legs, and even the chickens’ feet. Puzzled, she asked, “What’s this for?”

Jicheng grinned sheepishly. “No particular reason. Red is festive. Since it’s New Year’s, let them share in the joy—stay healthy and work hard for us next year. Just a silly thought of mine. Don’t laugh.”

Chunfu wouldn’t dream of mocking him. She found this man—older and usually steady—utterly endearing when he showed his childlike side in front of her. In this unfamiliar era, she had found fulfillment for what life had previously denied her. She was truly happy.

At Liansheng’s wife’s home, the aroma of frying oil cakes filled the air. Seeing Chunfu and Jicheng arrive, she served them freshly made cakes on clean plates. Though Chunfu’s morning sickness had passed, Jicheng still restricted her from overly greasy foods. Her eyes sparkled with longing until he relented, allowing her two small pieces—no more.

Liansheng’s wife covered her mouth, amused. “You’re going to be a mother, yet you’re still so childish. Don’t fret—once you’ve given birth and recovered, I’ll bring you a whole bowl to enjoy.”

Chunfu beamed, watching Jicheng hand red envelopes to Daya and Erbao. “We’ll head back now, sister-in-law. We’ll chat another day.”

Chunfu’s family tradition was to spend New Year’s Day at home, visiting relatives on the second and third days. Here, there were no strict rules—it was all about willingness. With only Jicheng’s uncle and Chunmu’s family as relatives, making rounds would be exhausting. Jicheng decided to deliver gifts as a gesture. Though they were family, past conflicts had cooled relations. Maintaining surface harmony was effort enough.

The decision kept Jicheng busy. He spent considerable effort fishing two fresh catches from the mountains and packed some dried goods from home to deliver to both households. With Chunfu pregnant, no one could fault her for staying behind. Alone at home, the silence felt stark. The steamer on the stove warmed leftovers, their fragrance wafting through the air.

Stepping outside to pour water under the tree, she spotted Xiuhua passing by. “Chunfu, not celebrating at your brother’s? They must have prepared a feast.”

Chunfu merely smiled and returned inside. Why eat at others’ homes when hers had delicious food? But not every village family fared well—many only had dumplings and meat during New Year’s. She neither compared herself to others nor invited their concern.

Xiuhua bought tofu and wandered the village, curious about others’ New Year’s dishes. Passing Jicheng’s house, she grew even more intrigued but dared not ask. Their family lacked nothing—their meals must be beyond her imagination. Spotting Jicheng on the road, she considered speaking but gave up at his indifferent demeanor. Seeing he’d come from Li Xiu’e’s house, she adjusted her basket and swayed toward it.

Li Xiu’e’s New Year was bleak. Chunmu’s illness hadn’t improved despite medicine, leaving her in no mood for celebration. Jicheng had brought gifts earlier, and she’d exchanged a few words with Chunmu. Seeing his increasingly gaunt face, her eyes welled up.

The braised pork in the pot was nearly done. Chunmu had developed a sweet tooth lately, so she’d prepared it accordingly. As she scooped it out, Xiuhua entered, smacking her lips. “Lucky me—just in time for your cooking. Smells amazing. Give me a piece.”

Without glancing at her, Li Xiu’e carried the dish inside. “This is for Chunmu. Eat at your own home. I’ve no time to chat—I’m busy.”

Xiuhua watched her enter the inner room and sneered. “Just a piece of meat—no need to be so stingy. As if I’d beg for it.” She turned and left, muttering, “Enjoy your pride while it lasts—soon you’ll be a widow.” The whole village knew Chunmu was bedridden, with little time left. She’d see how long Li Xiu’e could act superior. Always flaunting her better life—well, fortunes changed. After New Year’s, she’d have her reckoning.

Chunmu had eaten little these past days, lying weakly in bed. When Li Xiu’e brought food, he waved it away. “I can’t eat. Coughing makes it hard to swallow. You and Zhang Tong have it. Because of me, you’ve both suffered—look how pale you’ve gotten. Eat to regain strength.”

Li Xiu’e held a piece of braised pork to his lips. “Only when you recover can we rest easy and eat properly. Chunmu, when I fetched Zhang Tong from school recently, his teacher praised his cleverness. Get well soon—he’s waiting for you to see him become a top scholar.”

Chunmu initially wanted to laugh but couldn’t suppress another bout of coughing. He wiped his mouth with a handkerchief before pulling it away, unaware that a glaring streak of crimson remained at the corner of his lips. Weakly, he said, “I always knew Zhang Tong would make something of himself. It wasn’t for nothing that I was so close to him. You must remember, no matter how hard things get, don’t let him lose the chance to study. What I couldn’t accomplish, I’m counting on him to finish for me. And don’t hold grudges against Chunfu anymore—after all, we wronged her. Lying here for so long has made me realize that maybe this illness is retribution for the years I spent doing no good. It’s too late for regrets now.”

Li Xiu’e glared at him. “I hate hearing you talk like this. Just take your medicine, and you’ll get better. Once you’re well, we’ll visit Chunfu together. I feel guilty about how we treated her too. Back then, I was blinded by greed, thinking we deserved a share of their success. Enough of this. If you don’t want to eat now, I’ll keep it warm on the stove. Let me know when you’re ready.”

The house felt shrouded in gloom. The three of them wore somber expressions when no one was looking, devoid of any New Year’s cheer. Chunmu knew his body best—he sensed he didn’t have much time left. Illness strikes like a collapsing mountain, and he could only lie there, filled with regret at the thought of his life ending this way. He couldn’t bear to leave Xiu’e and Zhang Tong behind, nor could he shake the sorrow of likely never seeing Zhang Yan again. The mere thought of Zhang Yan sent a sharp pain through his chest. So many truths and realizations only came when life was nearly spent, and by then, there was no chance to make amends.

The food in the steamer was ready. Chunfu reached to take it out but burned her hand, quickly grabbing her earlobe to soothe the sting. Just as she found a cloth to try again, Jicheng walked in and stopped her, lifting the steamer himself with a sigh. “Your brother doesn’t look well—no energy, aged so much. I didn’t want to say anything, but you should visit him when you can.”

Chunfu lowered her head, watching as Jicheng placed the steamed dishes on the small table. Though the food looked delicious, she had no appetite. “His illness… I’m so confused. The past and his condition are all jumbled in my mind. I don’t know what to do, Jicheng. If medicine can’t cure him, then…”

Jicheng patted her shoulder reassuringly. “I know this is hard for you, but don’t assume the worst yet. Maybe a few more days of medicine will help. I shouldn’t have brought this up—it’s the New Year, a time for new beginnings.”

Chunfu sighed and went outside to pour some dried chili powder into a small bowl, adding vinegar and mixing it before setting it in front of Jicheng. “Even after trimming, fatty meat can still be greasy. Try dipping it in this—it’ll cut through the richness.”

Jicheng rolled a slice of meat in the mixture until it was coated in bright red chili flakes. The first bite was far more flavorful. But Chunfu barely touched her food, even skipping her favorite lean meat. Her mind was too preoccupied to eat. By the third day of the New Year, she asked Jicheng to deliver some money to her brother’s family. No matter what, the illness must have drained them. She couldn’t harden her heart—facing the possibility of death, she had to let go of the past.

The oppressive atmosphere lingered for days until Zhou Jing’s New Year visit lightened the mood. Sharp-witted, he seemed to sense the gloom and cracked jokes to cheer the couple up. After the laughter, they settled on leaving for Cangwu Mountain on the sixth day of the New Year. Before departing, Zhou Jing repeatedly assured Chunfu he’d bring Jicheng back unharmed, his playful grin finally dispelling the last of her worries.

Drunk on courage, Zhou Jing went to see An Yuning. Though he’d braced himself, hearing she was officially engaged to Master Pei still cut deep. As long as they weren’t married, there was still a chance. The shopkeeper had sought him out, promising that if he brought back the stone, things could change. Even a child wouldn’t believe such words, and Jicheng didn’t either. Yet he stubbornly wanted to gamble on it. He’d never broken a promise to anyone—he could stand tall and marry An Yuning properly.

After much hesitation, Yuning wrapped herself in a cloak and went to see him. The man before her had flushed cheeks and wore a shabby navy-blue coat with crooked, worm-like patches. It was pitiful, yet she couldn’t look away. Despite how he’d hurt her, shattered her efforts, she couldn’t bring herself to resent him. Instead, she worried for him. In this love, he’d given far more than she had.

“Why are you here?” she asked. “I thought I made myself clear the other day. Don’t come again—Master Pei and I are engaged. If you truly care for me, spare me the gossip and don’t make this harder.”

Zhou Jing stared at her. Her glistening eyes darted away, avoiding his gaze, but he smiled brightly. “I couldn’t wait. I’m leaving on the sixth. I had to see you one last time. Yuning, I never wanted to cause you trouble. Deep down, I wished to give you the best life possible. But it seems fate isn’t on our side. If you still refuse me when I return, I won’t bother you again.”

At his words—”won’t bother you again”—Yuning froze. What would her life be like without Zhou Jing? She couldn’t bear to imagine the heartache. All she could muster was, “No matter what, I hope you stay safe. If anything happened to you, I’d never forgive myself. Remember your promise.”

Zhou Jing gazed at her deeply, as if he could never get his fill. With a soft chuckle, he said, “I know. So wait for me—I’ll prove it when I return.” Next time, he’d fight openly, with every ounce of strength he had.

This time, it was Yuning who watched him leave. He was lean but strong, as if brimming with boundless energy. She suddenly remembered their trip to Dongpo Village—how the bumpy carriage ride had made him stutter through jokes to cheer her up, how she’d pretended to be annoyed. Yet at Jicheng’s home, he’d spoken with such eloquence she couldn’t look away. On their way back, he’d shyly admitted that around her, his words failed him—nervous and anxious, wanting only to impress her, yet fumbling instead.

This farewell might span years before they met again.