Early in the morning on Qingming Festival, Jicheng woke up and, by the light from the window, looked at Chunfu still sleeping peacefully. The ointment from yesterday had taken effect, and the swelling had subsided quite a bit, though it still looked particularly stark on her small, palm-sized face.
After folding his own bedding and preparing to get up, he noticed her stirring and waking as well. Still half-asleep, her eyes barely open, her soft voice carried the drowsy laziness of someone not yet fully awake: “I’m getting up too.”
“It’s still early. Sleep a little longer. It’s fine to stay in bed all day.”
Chunfu ignored him, stubbornly putting on her clothes. Other parts of her body still ached, though not as badly as her face. When she turned to fold her quilt, Jicheng beat her to it. She raised an eyebrow, secretly pleased, and went outside to wash her face. Mindful of her injuries, she didn’t dare scrub too hard, just lightly splashing water on her face, yet even that stung. She struggled through washing her face and rinsing her mouth, while Jicheng watched helplessly from the side. “You’re in so much pain. Even if you didn’t wash up, I wouldn’t mind.”
Chunfu couldn’t get past her own discomfort. By the time she finished, Jicheng had already spoken with Third Uncle, fed the animals, and was now in the kitchen making breakfast. He picked some greens, washed them, and tossed them into a pot to boil. He broke the fine noodles into rice-sized pieces so Chunfu could swallow them easily. There were still eggs left from the other day, sent by Liansheng’s wife, which he whisked and poured into the pot, seasoning it all. Soon, the aroma filled the air. Chunfu, who had only had noodle soup yesterday, was already starving, her stomach growling loudly.
When Jicheng turned around, he saw her standing behind him, her almond-shaped eyes brimming with tears, her nose red. He couldn’t help but chuckle and tease, “Silly girl, that hungry? It’ll be ready soon. You’re the treasure of this house—if I don’t take good care of you, who’s going to bear my children?”
Hearing his words take a suggestive turn, Chunfu was surprised—this usually wooden man could be cheeky too. She playfully punched his shoulder twice, but Jicheng just laughed and didn’t dodge. Just as he was about to say something, an aged voice called from outside the courtyard: “Is Jicheng home?”
The little dog playing in the yard had already learned to guard the house and let out a series of adorable barks. Jicheng glanced at Chunfu and went out first. Outside stood Old Man Wang, who seemed to have aged overnight—his back bent, his hair white. He wasn’t actually that old, but perhaps the weight of his troubles had aged him prematurely.
Jicheng sighed. He couldn’t bring himself to make things harder for the old man. Wasn’t it tragic? At this stage of life, he should be enjoying his children’s support, yet here he was, running around for his worthless son. Wang Bo was likely already on his way to the county jail, and who knew how much despair he carried in his heart.
Old Man Wang looked at Chunfu’s swollen face, the bruise from five fingers still visible, and sighed remorsefully. “My good-for-nothing son—how could he lay hands on such a young girl? Here’s a basket of eggs for her to recover. I don’t have much money, but take these thirty coins for her treatment. Don’t hold it against me, girl. I failed to raise Wang Bo right. Now he’s getting his punishment—I just hope he repents.”
Chunfu suddenly felt a pang of guilt. It wasn’t that she was particularly soft-hearted, but times were hard, and this money was likely scraped together with great effort. Before she could speak, Jicheng pushed Old Man Wang’s hand away and said gruffly, “Old Man Wang, I was just angry that my wife suffered, and I wanted to send a message so no one thinks Jicheng is easy to bully. Take these back. You’re the only one left in your family—focus on taking care of yourself. I won’t take advantage of you.”
Old Man Wang insisted, trying to force the money and eggs on Jicheng, but just as they were going back and forth, a shrill voice barged in: “If you don’t want them, give them to me! His son stole my parents’ savings. If we’re settling accounts, mine should be settled too!”
It was Sister Axiang, her face fierce as she stormed into the yard, trying to snatch the basket of eggs and the thirty coins. Though Old Man Wang was elderly, he had never done heavy labor in his youth and was still quick on his feet. He easily dodged her grasping hands and glared. “Shameless woman! Where’s your proof that Wang Bo stole from you? You’re the thief here! I came to see Jicheng and his wife—these things are his. Have you no decency?”
Sister Axiang had a loud voice. Hearing that Old Man Wang had brought things to Jicheng’s house, she had made a scene, drawing villagers who hadn’t yet left for work to come and watch. Li Xiu’e, after exchanging a few words with Chunmu, also came to join the spectacle. She refused to believe that, in front of everyone, Jicheng would still claim he had no money to lend.
Every household in the village raised chickens, but they saved every egg to sell at the market for cash. Only wealthy families could afford to eat eggs regularly—that basket was worth a fair bit. How could Sister Axiang not want it?
“Everyone in Dongpo Village saw it! You think you can just deny it? Old Man Wang, don’t push your luck, or I’ll call people to beat you so badly you can’t leave Dongpo!”
Old Man Wang wasn’t one to be intimidated. He spat at her. “You shrew! If you have proof, take it to the village head! I trust Jicheng’s character—who knows if your family is just trying to extort people?”
No one had actually seen Wang Bo there that day. Even if he had stolen the money, without evidence, they couldn’t just accuse him. Sister Axiang’s family had no choice but to swallow their losses—they didn’t even dare bring it to the village head of Liujia Village, let alone make a fuss. Only now, with Jicheng calling Old Man Wang here, did she dare to cause trouble.
Chunfu disliked these gossipy women—their shrill voices made her head ache. Jicheng was equally annoyed. These people had the audacity to cause a scene at his doorstep. He growled, “Sister Axiang, take your quarrel elsewhere. Don’t disturb my home. Old Man Wang, I won’t stand on ceremony—I’ll take these.”
Old Man Wang had come sincerely to apologize. If Jicheng refused, he wouldn’t feel at ease. Besides, even if he took the things back, this woman wouldn’t let it go. If the eggs got broken or the money lost, he’d be the one suffering. Relieved that Jicheng accepted, he immediately brightened. Now empty-handed and alone, what did he have to fear? If anything happened, he’d turn around and blame her family.
Sister Axiang, unwilling to back down, shoved Old Man Wang, demanding an explanation. But the onlookers, chilled by Jicheng’s earlier rebuke, had already dispersed. They’d heard how fiercely Jicheng had beaten Wang Bo yesterday—so badly he couldn’t even straighten his back. A man with such a temper was best left alone.
Seeing the crowd scatter, Li Xiu’e hurried into the yard. She watched as Jicheng ladled porridge into a bowl—fine noodles, no less! Chunfu sat at the small wooden table, looking eager to eat, which only irritated Li Xiu’e further. This fool was living the good life—wearing a pretty hairpin, dressed neatly, even being served food. The sight made her grind her teeth, but she forced a smile. “What’s this delicious smell? Oh, fine noodles in the bowl! Serve me a bowl too, won’t you?”
Jicheng placed a spoon in the bowl and handed it to Chunfu, warning her it was hot. Without even glancing at Li Xiu’e, he said flatly, “Chunfu couldn’t eat, so I made her something special. Did you come to see how she’s doing?”
Li Xiu’e stiffened, then laughed awkwardly. “I just followed Sister Axiang here! You treat Chunfu so well—her brother and I are relieved. Our whole family’s never had fine noodles before. Chunfu’s so lucky. I saw Old Man Wang brought a basket of eggs. Zhang Tong was just saying yesterday he’s craving eggs—give me a couple, won’t you? Last time you gave Zhang Yan meat—they’re both your nephews. You wouldn’t refuse, would you?”
Jicheng chewed on a piece of flatbread, washing it down with a gulp of water, watching as Chunfu ate daintily. His heart warmed, and he didn’t snap, but he said firmly, “I’m saving these for Chunfu to recover. She’s too frail. I’m the only man left in the Ji family—I’m counting on her to give me a fat, healthy son. How can she do that if she’s not well? If Zhang Tong wants eggs, buy him some. I heard the money pouch Wang Bo stole yesterday was stuffed full. Don’t be too stingy—wouldn’t want it stolen again like yesterday.”
Li Xiu’e had hoped to squeeze some money out of Jicheng, but instead, she got nothing—not even an egg—and a bellyful of anger. She stood abruptly and stormed out, pausing after a few steps to glare at Chunfu. “Your brother misses you. Come visit when you have time.”
Chunfu, struggling to swallow a mouthful of soup, looked up and smiled sweetly. “I’d love some chicken soup. Will you make it for me? I’ll come tomorrow.”
Li Xiu’e’s face twisted before she snorted and strode off. This whole family was insufferable—no manners at all.
Chunfu turned to Jicheng, and they shared a quiet laugh. After a moment, she murmured, “Why’d you have to be so harsh? You’ve probably offended her for good now. Stop eating that—it’s too dry. Isn’t there more in the pot?”
Jicheng smirked. “You think I don’t know why she came? Just looking for handouts. I’m not stupid—why waste words on an ungrateful wretch? I saved the rest for your lunch. This is fine for me.”
Chunfu wouldn’t have it. He was the pillar of their household—if he fell ill, she wouldn’t be able to shoulder the burden alone. Their good life couldn’t afford a gap. He needed to eat well, grow stronger, so she could rely on him with peace of mind. As for her sister-in-law’s words, she’d only given a perfunctory reply—she had no intention of inviting trouble.
Jicheng, unable to resist her insistence, finally ate a bowl. The warmth in his heart was sweeter than the noodles—being cared for, cherished, and loved filled the loneliness he’d carried for years.
After the meal, Chunfu watched as Jicheng washed the bowls. Then, locking the door behind them, they set off for the mountains with baskets on their backs.
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