Zhang Yan handed over the affairs of the shop and boarded the carriage back to Dongpo Village. Though only sixteen, he carried himself with remarkable composure, dressed impeccably and exuding an air of authority.
When the carriage arrived at Jicheng’s house, he got out and called inside, but no one answered. A passerby, eager to flatter him, said, “Zhang Yan, you’ve really made something of yourself! Your aunt went to Xiuhua’s place to make a scene.”
Frowning, Zhang Yan hurried over. Why would his aunt, who was usually so composed, pick a fight with that foul-mouthed woman? Though he had been away from the village for years and knew little of recent events, he was well aware of everyone’s character—especially those with black hearts and sharp tongues. His uncle had always stayed by his aunt’s side, and this year, he had even hired familiar hands to help so he wouldn’t have to leave her alone.
When he was eight, he had accompanied Old Jiang to deliver snakes to the Pei family in town. Out of curiosity, the second young master of the Pei family opened the bag, only for a snake to suddenly dart out. If not for Zhang Yan’s quick reflexes in grabbing the snake’s head, disaster might have struck. After recovering, the young master thanked him, marveling that such a small child could handle such a large snake—no easy feat. Seizing the opportunity, Old Jiang said, “This boy is obedient and sensible, but his parents were cruel and drove him out. He’s been staying with me, an old man, with nowhere else to go. Please, sir, give him a chance to make a living. A child like this shouldn’t spend his life catching snakes. If you don’t believe me, try him out for a few days—you’ll see.”
Though young, Zhang Yan understood Old Jiang was securing him a future. His eyes stung with emotion. When the young master agreed, Old Jiang pulled him aside and said, “This is all I can do for you. The rest depends on your own fate. Listen to me—be diligent and sharp-eyed, and you’ll never go wrong. If you make something of yourself, even better. The Pei family has many shops; becoming a steward would be a fine path. This old man would die content knowing I’ve done one good deed. The road for us poor folk is hard, but if you strive, you’ll make it.”
Zhang Yan agreed, never imagining that parting would stretch into years, and when he returned, all he found was a small grave mound. He heard Old Jiang had died of a severe illness, neglected and alone, his end wretched. Zhang Yan filled in the earth, erected a marker, and kowtowed three times before returning to Dongpo Village. With Old Jiang, words weren’t needed—despite their age difference, they understood each other. But what truly shocked him was learning his father had also passed. Though he harbored resentment toward his father, he had never imagined they’d be separated by death. His mother wept upon seeing him, surprisingly without scolding him, and after a long silence, whispered, “I wronged you. Don’t hate me or your father. We realized our mistake. He never said it, but in his last moments, you were all he thought of.”
The pain was unbearable. In the early years, when he had chances to return, fear made him suppress the urge. His aunt claimed to have seen him, but he had only been hiding, too ashamed to face them. Later, he merely sent silver and clothes back through others. If only he hadn’t run away—he should have been there to see his father off. They say men don’t shed tears lightly, but he wept for a full day at his father’s grave.
Zhang Yan’s greatest regret was failing his aunt. He dreaded entering that courtyard—the comfortable, renovated home, the adorable younger cousins, the silk tree that had grown thicker. Dragged inside by his uncle, he knelt before his stern-faced aunt, head bowed, crying but unable to speak.
“You’ve grown capable, haven’t you? Too wild to be controlled at such a young age. Why bother coming to see me now?”
Only after his uncle pleaded at length did his aunt finally look at him. He knew she wasn’t truly angry. Choking back tears, he said, “Aunt, don’t be mad. I know I was wrong. My father and Old Jiang are gone, and I couldn’t even see them off. Heaven has punished me enough. If you turn away from me too, my heart will never find peace.”
His aunt suddenly stood, pulled him up, and studied his face through tears. “You look more and more like your father. I’m just angry you couldn’t talk things out instead of vanishing. I told you I’d raise you—why didn’t you listen? Were others’ words weightier than mine? Would I ever harm you?”
Tears welled in Zhang Yan’s eyes, but he forced a grin. “Aunt, don’t scare the little ones like this. Back then, I thought you were struggling too—why burden you further? I was young and hot-headed, convinced I could survive on my own. Life outside was harsh, and at my age, I’ve seen it all. Please don’t be angry. My heart aches enough as it is.”
Chunfu swatted him, then pulled him down to sit. “Have you visited your parents? However they wronged you, there’s no point holding grudges now. Your mother may not say it, but she’s suffering the most. And your father—he was no different. Adults can be as blind as children. I hated them too, but facing death, the hatred just… vanished. People are pitiable creatures. So let go of the past. Your mother deserves your kindness now.”
“I understand. Aunt, you’re truly blessed—your life is so content now.”
Chunfu waved dismissively, calling the children over. Niannian, sweet-tongued and unshy, chirped greetings, while Jiwei, as aloof as his father, struggled to speak, amusing Zhang Yan. They were much closer to Zhang Tong—Zhang Yan was simply too unfamiliar.
“Where have you been all these years? What have you done? Tell me everything.”
Zhang Yan recounted his time with the Pei family, how he’d been assigned to Manager Wang, traveling to the northern deserts and southern rice lands, enduring constant reprimands but honing his skills swiftly, soon becoming the manager’s favorite. Perhaps he was truly fortunate—young but disciplined, earning a recommendation to the second master’s side. If not for his uncle spotting him in Changfeng County and dragging him back, he still wouldn’t know how to face his aunt. He had no regrets about leaving, but the Pei family had been kind, giving him silver to start anew rather than making things difficult.
When Zhang Yan arrived at Xiuhua’s courtyard, he saw his uncle holding his younger brother, standing protectively behind his aunt. Smiling, he strode over, took the child from his uncle’s arms, and freed him to guard his aunt. Looking down at Niannian’s flushed face, he asked softly, “What’s happened?”
Niannian fumed, “She’s wicked! She tried to turn me against Mother, badmouthing our family. I was stupid to believe her. Mother got angry and came to confront her.”
Xiuhua had hoped to hide inside, but Tiezhu dragged her out, demanding, “Did you poison that child’s mind? Speak up—don’t just stand there mute.”
Under the crowd’s scrutiny, Xiuhua suddenly laughed. “You’re all ridiculous! Letting two cursed outcasts steal the village’s wealth, not demanding it back, but groveling to serve them—spineless, every one of you! If you envy their money, just take it! Why should they get to rob me? I’ll say what I want—what can you do? Ji Nian, your mother was an idiot before her ‘miraculous’ recovery. Watch out—maybe you’ll wake up stupid one day too! Ha—how dare you hit me? Zhang Chunfu, I’ve had enough of you! If you hadn’t humiliated me publicly, I wouldn’t have gone this far. I’m not afraid—come fight me!”
But she hadn’t expected Chunfu, despite her comfortable life, hadn’t lost her clawing skills. Xiuhua shrieked as Chunfu’s nails raked her skin.
Tiezhu, usually away earning a living, had dismissed his son’s warnings about Xiuhua. Now, seeing her deranged state, he cursed under his breath—had she gone mad? To curb her venomous tongue, he’d kept her home most days. Maybe isolation had driven her to this. Pulling her aside, he scolded, “Look at yourself! Disgracing us in front of the children—what kind of mother are you? Shut your vile mouth! Ruin yourself if you must, but don’t drag our son down. Jicheng, Chunfu, I apologize. Niannian, stay away from her—treat her like the madwoman she is.”
Xiuhua erupted at Tiezhu’s submissive stance, spewing every vile insult she’d bottled up over the years. Chunfu sneered. “Brother, it’s not that I disrespect you, but what parent could tolerate someone manipulating their child like this? Niannian’s sensible, but what if it were another child, more stubborn? I regretted exposing her misdeeds back then, thinking people could change. Clearly, I was wrong. All I ask is that she stays away from my family. If she crosses us again, I won’t hold back.”
Jicheng pulled Chunfu close, his voice firm. “Brother Tiezhu, you’re a reasonable man. Our families may not be close, but I know you’re decent. But repeatedly letting your own stir trouble—if there’s a grudge, let’s settle it openly. Our silence doesn’t mean we’re easy targets.”
Flustered and ashamed, Tiezhu had recently helped at Jicheng’s home, paid generously and fed well. He’d hoped for more work, but now— “Brother Jicheng, you misunderstand! I’d never scheme against you. My family’s discipline has lapsed… But if this woman causes trouble again, I’ll deal with her myself.”
Xiuhua recoiled from the ferocity in Chunfu’s eyes—a familiar, protective glare. Watching Chunfu leave, she suddenly turned to her son nearby and laughed softly. Mothers always protect their children. She didn’t understand her own rage, how she reveled in Jicheng and Chunfu’s suffering, the worse their plight, the brighter her smile. She almost wished Chunfu would come fight her daily—had she truly lost her mind?
Tiezhu wouldn’t let her off. Sending their son out, he dragged Xiuhua inside, where shouts and wails soon erupted. The onlookers dispersed after Jicheng’s family left, some muttering, “Jicheng used to keep to himself, but now he helps everyone earn. People fawn over him, yet Xiuhua insists on picking fights—what a fool.”
Zhang Yan, now a poised and elegant young man, consoled, “She’s always been like this. Thank goodness Mother distanced herself, or she’d have caused Aunt endless trouble. I brought fine fabric from town—perfect for new clothes.”
Chunfu shook her head. “Let them gossip. But meddling with my family—that, I won’t tolerate. Your parents and I were once estranged, fighting like enemies. Do you think that didn’t pain me? Siblings should support each other. One lesson in that suffering was enough.”
Walking beside her, Jicheng clasped her hand. “Your aunt’s right. We’ve only these two children—we’re counting on them to care for us in old age.”
Niannian, mimicking her parents, tugged Zhang Yan’s sleeve. “I’ll never say things that hurt Mother again! Cousin, take me to town with you!”
After leaving the Pei family, Zhang Yan devoted himself to managing his aunt’s business in town, selling dried goods, preserves, and pastries—now even expanding to the capital. Though just starting, he was confident. Smiling at Niannian, he declined, “Not now. The shop’s too busy—I can’t watch you properly. When you’re older.”
“Then marry me!” Niannian chirped, tilting her head. Zhang Yan’s handsome face froze in awkward silence. Chunfu and Jicheng stared, aghast. Chunfu snapped, “Niannian! Have you no shame? You’re too young for such talk! Focus on your studies!”
Unfazed, Niannian said, “I just want a husband who earns well. Cousin’s perfect! I love the sound of clinking silver—earn lots for me!”
Chunfu nearly laughed—her daughter wasn’t seeking a husband but a workhorse! Exchanging a wry glance with Jicheng, she noted Jiwei, fast asleep on his father’s back, never drooling, far quieter than his sister. A rowdy daughter, a serene son—what a pair.
The silk tree bloomed with pink-white, fan-like flowers. Chunfu cooked a feast for Zhang Yan. Though he ate well abroad, nothing compared to his aunt’s cooking. In those loveless years, meals at her home had been his happiest times. Spicy fish, braised pork, stir-fried belly—mostly meats, with just a few vegetable dishes. He grinned. “Why so much meat?”
Chunfu set down the last dish—a soup—and ruffled his hair. “You’re too thin. Time to fatten up. Speaking of which, you’re of marriageable age. Has your mother mentioned it? Any sweethearts?”
Blushing, Zhang Yan shook his head. “No one. Mother said to discuss it with you—she’s not worldly enough and just wants to be a ready-made mother-in-law.”
Chunfu smiled but said nothing. Little did she know her daughter would one day stir up Changfeng County for Zhang Yan, battling a woman named Futong in a futile, heart-wrenching rivalry. But that was a story for much later. For now, she was content—her long-lost nephew had returned, and their family was whole again.
Sitting beside Jicheng, she accepted the dish he served her. “The Mu family sent for us again—after all these years, they still haven’t given up. I’ve no interest in their business, nor any intention of getting involved. These eight years have been too good to leave. Let the eldest brother handle it himself.”
“You’ve held this grudge too long. The elderly count their days—don’t make her wait forever. She’s spent a lifetime waiting for her son. As a mother now, I understand better.”
Jicheng pondered her words, then nodded. “Fine. We’ll go—it’ll fulfill Niannian’s wish too. You’ll manage things here.” His gaze, full of trust, met Zhang Yan’s. With Zhang Yan’s answering nod, the family resumed their joyful meal.
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