Author Archives: Thingyan

Qi Beinan was in the kitchen tending the fire. The roast chicken he bought that morning had long gone cold, and a layer of congealed grease had formed on the oiled wrapping paper.

He chopped the whole chicken into pieces so it would reheat faster in the steamer.

Xiao Yuanbao came running into the kitchen. Seeing that Qi Beinan really was there, he unconsciously let out a long sigh of relief and happily ran over to grab his hand.

He leaned against Qi Beinan, resting his head on his shoulder, soft hair drooping, without saying a word.

“What’s wrong?”

Qi Beinan saw he was acting clingy and let him lean in. “Did you sleep well?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded, too shy to admit he was afraid Qi Beinan had gone back to Qiu County, so he just softly said, “A little hungry.”

Qi Beinan couldn’t help but laugh. “Let me check if the chicken is heated through.”

He stood up and took Xiao Yuanbao to the stove. When he lifted the lid, a burst of scalding steam whooshed out, instantly clouding their vision.

As the steam dispersed, a rustic clay bowl full of chicken released a rich, savory aroma.

Qi Beinan wet his fingers slightly and lifted the bowl, now glistening with golden chicken fat.

He pulled out a whole drumstick he’d cut especially, blew on it, and handed it to the eager little one craning his neck to look.

Xiao Yuanbao stared at the big chicken leg, his stomach genuinely hungry, and couldn’t help but swallow hard.

But even after receiving it, he didn’t immediately take a bite. Instead, he raised it slightly and said, “Brother eats first.”

Qi Beinan didn’t turn down the kind gesture. He leaned in and took a symbolic bite.

The chicken was a bit dry, but still fragrant and delicious. He praised it, “Mmm, smells amazing.”

Pleased, Xiao Yuanbao clutched the drumstick and ran back to sit by the stove, happily eating by the fire.

Qi Beinan, seeing the little one so contentedly munching on chicken, smiled and used the leftover winter amaranth greens to cook up a quick soup.

By the time the meal was set on the table, Xiao Hu and Fang Youliang were already deep into their drinks.

Fang Youliang couldn’t hold his liquor as well as Xiao Hu, and a red flush had crept up his face.

Seeing the roast chicken being served, his stomach growled with desire. It had been ages since they’d had meat at home.

But faced with such good food and wine, he felt uneasy. He’d come to hear about a job, yet here he was being treated like an honored guest.

Since Xiao Hu hadn’t yet brought up the matter of work, Fang Youliang didn’t dare ask outright and instead joked, “Brother Xiao’s family really celebrates early—today isn’t even the 24th yet.”

Qi Beinan replied, “I went into town today to set up a stall. The roast chicken vendor had one left, was packing up in a hurry, and sold it cheap—so I picked it up.”

“I thought it’d go well with drinks, but I’m too young to drink. It’s dull for Uncle Xiao to drink alone, so I called Brother Fang over. I hope you’ll come visit often in the future too.”

Hearing this, Fang Youliang thought, This young lad is really considerate. “How could I, an elder, accept such generosity? You mustn’t be so polite in the future.”

Qi Beinan replied with a smile, “The younger generation always listens to their elders.”

Then he glanced at Xiao Hu, who nodded knowingly.

Qi Beinan then took out the labor permit and handed it to Fang Youliang.

“I happened upon this county job posting while I was in town. With the year-end near, Uncle Xiao doesn’t have time to go. I wonder if Brother Fang would be interested in the work.”

Fang Youliang picked it up but didn’t recognize the characters—he nearly held it upside down.

Surprised, he asked, “What kind of place needs something this official just to hire labor?”

“Don’t laugh at me, Beinan. I’m just a rough guy. Can’t read at all, don’t know a thing. I’ve never seen this kind of thing.”

Qi Beinan patiently explained how official county job postings worked.

He added, “The pay’s decent—better than most places—but the exact length of the job depends on the county. You’d have to report in to find out.”

When Fang Youliang heard the job paid over 100 wen a day plus a sheng of rice, he was so stunned he stood right up, suddenly holding the permit like it was gold.

He’d never heard of such good county jobs and didn’t even try to hide his inexperience. Excited and astonished, he asked, “Re–really?”

Qi Beinan nodded. “It’s real. See the official seal? It’ll be recognized anywhere. Back when I lived in Qiu County, I saw similar county job postings, but because they paid more than regular jobs, they weren’t widely advertised. We folks out here in the countryside rarely hear of them.”

Xiao Hu added, “It’s true. I’ve never done one myself, but when I delivered mountain goods to the village folk, I heard them talk about it.”

Now that he was sure it was legit, Fang Youliang actually grew a bit uneasy. “But… such a good job… Brother Xiao, you’re not going up the mountain now—why don’t you take it instead?”

“I can’t go, that’s why I called you. If I had the time, I wouldn’t have brought it up.”

Xiao Hu said, “Look around the village—if I can’t go, who else but you? Don’t waste this permit.”

Fang Youliang felt a surge of warmth and poured himself another full bowl of wine. “Brother Xiao, I’ll do it!”

He said it and really downed the whole bowl in one go.

“Beinan, I thank you. Brother, I thank you!”

Grateful and moved, he kept repeating his thanks.

Xiao Hu called him to sit down and eat some meat.

Until now, Xiao Hu hadn’t said what the job was, and Fang Youliang had been on edge. Now, with the permit in hand, the uncertainty disappeared. He relaxed visibly and drank with a much lighter heart.

Qi Beinan was helping serve food when he noticed the unconcealable joy on Fang Youliang’s face. Catching him in high spirits, he glanced at Xiao Hu—clearly the perfect moment to dig into something serious.

“Youliang, when you first came to the village, you were just a little tyke running around naked. In the blink of an eye, you’re already a grown man.”

Receiving Qi Beinan’s cue, Xiao Hu followed up, cutting to the chase: “I’ve known your temperament all these years, and you know mine. So tell me—when your house wall collapsed, such a big thing, why didn’t you come tell me?”

Fang Youliang hiccupped from the wine and answered apologetically, “Big Brother, I was going to ask you for help… But my mother was afraid it’d trouble you.”

Xiao Hu’s brows furrowed. “Trouble? After all these years of back-and-forth between the Xiao and Fang families, you call that ‘trouble’?”

“I’m a straightforward man, not as thoughtful as your auntie was. Ever since she passed, the Fang family’s become distant. Tell me honestly, Youliang—have I done something to make you avoid me?”

Fang Youliang’s face flushed with guilt. Faced with Xiao Hu’s questioning, he looked away. “N-no… Nothing like that.”

Xiao Hu saw this and grew more anxious—there really is something!

His chest tightened. “If you won’t tell me, I’ll never figure it out even if I rack my brains day and night! What could possibly be so difficult that it can’t be talked through?”

Fang Youliang saw how worried Xiao Hu was and felt torn. His mother had strictly forbidden him from saying anything. But seeing that Xiao Hu was still the same as before—even now helping him get such a good job—how many people would do that?

Even if he couldn’t take the job, he could sell the permit and someone would pay handsomely for it.

He understood deep down that this was the Xiao family looking out for him.

“Well, spit it out! Are you trying to make me die of anxiety?”

Fang Youliang gritted his teeth. “Big Brother, you know I’m a straightforward guy. Our families have been close for years—how could I want to hide anything? But it’s been hard to bring this up.”

Xiao Hu pressed, “Our families are basically like one household. What could possibly be unspeakable?”

“Ai—it’s… it’s Qin Niazi…”

With the help of liquid courage, Fang Youliang spilled everything Qin Niazi had done—honestly and in full.

“We are poor. That’s true. But we never intended to take advantage of anyone. With things like that… how could I bring it up to you? Even if I had thicker skin, I couldn’t open my mouth.”

“You know my mother. She’s mild on the outside, but inside, she has her pride.”

Fang Youliang’s voice turned pained, eyes reddening. “Never mind everything else. Qin Niazi looks down on our poverty—fine. Plenty of people in this village do. But to say that my second sister and third brother stole from her? That’s unacceptable. Once children are labeled like that, how can they ever hope to marry?”

Xiao Hu was dumbstruck. Even though he didn’t spend much time in the village, he had sensed something off about the Fang family for a while.

He’d originally thought that the change was because Xiao Bao’s mother used to visit Grandma Sun often. Now that she was gone, he figured it was normal for the Fang family to fall out of contact.

At first, he hadn’t thought much of it. But as time passed, the distance became more noticeable. He’d even wondered if there had been a misunderstanding.

Only now did he realize—there was no misunderstanding. It had really happened.

His chest felt cold, and he clutched his chopsticks tightly.

With a loud crack, he slammed them onto the table.

Xiao Yuanbao, nibbling on a chicken leg, his mouth slick with oil, was startled by his father’s sudden outburst and shrank closer to Qi Beinan.

Qi Beinan had more or less guessed the situation would be like this, so the details didn’t surprise him. Without making a fuss, he gently scooped Xiao Yuanbao into his arms. “Let’s go clean your mouth, little brother.”

“Mm,” Xiao Yuanbao softly replied.

“Brother Xiao, I may have had some wine, but I’m not so drunk I’m speaking nonsense. All of this has weighed on me for a long time. Whether you believe me or not, just saying it out loud has lifted a burden.”

Fang Youliang was no fool. At this point, most people would urge Xiao Hu to see Qin Niazi clearly.

But that was a family matter. He was the junior—how could he pass judgment on his elder’s household?

This was something only a senior could address.

So he said, “My mother said it too—Qin Niazi is the one sharing a roof with you. Everyone has their own way of dealing with people. Please don’t be angry.”

Xiao Hu wanted not to be angry—but how could he not?

The whole thing with Xiao Bao already stabbed at his heart like a bed of thorns. He hadn’t even had time to catch his breath, and now he finds out that Qin Niazi looked down on the people closest to them and accused their children of theft?

What had once been a close, neighborly relationship had been torn to shreds by her.

She wasn’t here to build a home—she was here to collect debts.

Xiao Hu was flooded with emotions, his chest tight and bitter.

“I was blind—blame me for being blind. I never doubted her. Who would’ve thought she’d use my trust to behave like this.”

Qi Beinan listened from the corridor connecting to the main hall. All the effort today had finally paid off—this muddled father-in-law of his finally saw what kind of person Qin Niazi really was.

They talked a while longer. Xiao Hu offered Fang Youliang some comforting words, assuring him he hadn’t known and telling him the Fang family should stop distancing themselves.

Earlier, the wine had been merry. Now, it was more for drowning sorrows.

Qi Beinan didn’t know what Xiao Hu would do about Qin Niazi from here on. It would depend on what happened when she returned.

But if he went back to pretending nothing was wrong—if he chose to stay deaf and blind—then Qi Beinan would have to make other plans.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

This county labor permit, as the name suggests, is an official recruitment slip issued by the county yamen.

Generally speaking, local governments rely on corvée labor.

Such labor is conscripted from the local population—every household must send its able-bodied male to serve one month per year at the county office’s discretion, doing tasks like repairing city walls, building irrigation systems, constructing buildings, and so on.

But when there aren’t enough people showing up for their duty, the county will issue labor permits to hire workers for pay.

The wages offered by the county are significantly better than ordinary labor jobs.

On the open market, a strong and healthy laborer doing the same physical work might earn sixty to seventy wen a day. The rate can fluctuate by ten wen depending on the time of year and the specific contractor.

Most jobs also include a simple lunch—four steamed buns and a bowl of porridge.

In contrast, the county pays one hundred wen per day, plus a bonus of one sheng of polished rice.

Such favorable pay naturally draws attention. Every time the county posts labor announcements, job seekers flock in droves.

Those selected are given a permit like this one.

But because the county’s offer is so generous, the slots usually fill quickly, and most people don’t get in unless they’re well-connected or extremely well-informed.

People without information or connections rarely get such a chance.

Qi Beinan looked at the permit given to him by Bai Die and saw the official seal—undeniably real.

Besides, no one would risk forging a work permit just to get hired—faking government documents is a capital offense.

Seeing how easily Bai Die handed it over, Qi Beinan guessed he was likely a clerk in the Personnel Office of the county yamen—the department that manages labor recruitment.

And managing labor is a lucrative post. Just leaking a county job posting can generate plenty of side income. People will pay for connections and placement. The oil and water practically pour in.

Qi Beinan didn’t know if Bai Die personally accepted bribes, but either way, it wasn’t his concern. Even if he did, it was nothing unusual.

Throughout the entire bureaucracy, it was rare to find even one or two officials who weren’t greedy for even the tiniest taste of profit.

Truly upright and incorruptible officials don’t get far in the political world.

The bureaucracy runs on relationships—and where there’s renqing (human sentiment), there’s inevitably self-interest.

So since he had the good fortune to receive such a permit, Qi Beinan tucked it away carefully.

He was too young to use it himself, but someone else would surely be eager.

Around noon, Qi Beinan packed up the stall and returned the rented table and benches to the general store.

He also followed through on a promise to buy two jiao worth of wine—specifically a 30-wen autumn brew that Xiao Hu had asked for.

Among these small tavern wines, the best sold for 45 wen per jiao, while the cheapest hovered around 10 wen. The 30-wen variety was mid-to-high tier.

With the holidays approaching, food and drink prices had gone up. Fortunately, state-regulated wines couldn’t be changed in price easily, so lines for official wine stretched long.

Qi Beinan had noticed they still had some of the cheap 10-wen wine at home, which Xiao Hu usually drank alone.

But now that he wanted to invite Fang Youliang for a drink, spending a bit more was only proper.

He also bought some side dishes to go with it: a golden, crispy roast chicken, and a small bag of mixed offal from a street vendor.

This “miscellaneous offal” was chopped chicken and duck intestines, hearts, livers—lower-grade stuff, but well-marinated and drenched in house-made sauce. Great with alcohol.

Lastly, he bought two jin of pears.

Xiao Yuanbao had already eaten breakfast in the county and then a bowl of wontons—he wasn’t hungry.

He had also seen how hard Qi Beinan worked writing characters all morning until his wrist was sore just to earn a few coins, and being a thoughtful child, didn’t want to spend money carelessly.

When Qi Beinan offered to buy him snacks, he declined, so they simply bought a few pears to take home.

Xiao Yuanbao had played all morning with Qiao Jie’er—lighting firecrackers, running around—and had a great time.

By the time they climbed into the ox cart, he finally began to feel tired. Sweat had gathered on his forehead and back, and he leaned against Qi Beinan sleepily.

Qi Beinan, watching him quietly exhale with unfocused eyes, worried he might fall asleep.

Riding in an ox cart with sweat-soaked clothes and a breeze blowing could easily lead to a chill, so he kept talking to keep the boy awake.

Xiao Yuanbao understood he shouldn’t sleep, so he propped up his head on one hand.

Suddenly, he remembered how Qiao Jie’er could count copper coins and admired her for it. He softly told Qi Beinan that he wanted to learn to count coins too.

Qi Beinan’s brows lifted—wanting to learn numbers was a good thing.

But since they were still in the cart with strangers nearby, it wasn’t suitable to pull out coins for counting.

So instead, he decided to teach him to count from one to ten using fingers.

He had Xiao Yuanbao hold out his little hands, and he pointed to each finger as he taught.

Xiao Yuanbao was eager and learned with full focus. By the time the ox cart reached the village entrance, he could recite one to ten without using his fingers at all.

Qi Beinan felt a warm sense of satisfaction.

The ride from the city to the village took about an hour, and while Xiao Yuanbao might not be particularly bright, what mattered more was his rare patience and persistence through the entire journey.

Children often had scattered attention, and even focusing for the time it took an incense stick to burn was already admirable.

For the rest of the way home, Xiao Yuanbao cheerfully kept practicing counting on his fingers, finding it all wonderfully new and exciting.

Qi Beinan had said he’d return for lunch, so Xiao Hu had already cooked and was waiting for the two of them.

It was another pot stew—taro stewed with winter amaranth greens, both ingredients gifted by Grandma Sun.

But the greens had been added too early and were now overcooked into a soggy mess, clinging to the taro like pig slop.

The taro, on the other hand, hadn’t been stewed long enough and was still a bit crisp.

Xiao Yuanbao puckered his lips as he ate, while Xiao Hu gently asked if it tasted good.

Though he felt lying was wrong, he didn’t want to hurt his father’s feelings either. So Xiao Yuanbao stuffed vegetables into his mouth in big bites, insisting it was tasty.

But those furrowed brows of his were nearly knotted into stone.

Qi Beinan almost laughed, but held it in.

He took out the labor permit and first asked Xiao Hu if he wanted to take the job.

Bai Die had instructed that anyone wanting to work must report to the county office early the day after tomorrow.

But that day was already the 24th—Little New Year.

Xiao Hu was surprised Qi Beinan had managed to get such a permit; it was truly a good opportunity.

He was tempted, but with the year-end approaching and no adults left at home, it wouldn’t be appropriate for him to leave.

Qi Beinan had already guessed that Xiao Hu likely wouldn’t be free, so he suggested giving the permit to someone who needed it more.

Naturally, that person would be Fang Youliang.

Xiao Hu agreed. Since Fang Youliang hadn’t come by today, he could take the errand as an excuse to go call him over.

So that was settled.

In the afternoon, Qi Beinan finally had time to sort out the things from today’s stall.

All the coins he earned from selling couplets and writing letters he gathered into a long wooden box, which was now half full.

He dumped them all onto the table, forming a small hill. Xiao Yuanbao happily climbed onto a stool and started counting eagerly.

The little one didn’t fully understand the value of money yet. What made him happiest wasn’t the earnings themselves, but the fact that he could now count.

Qi Beinan let him play around—after all, he only knew how to count up to ten.

But after packing away the leftover paper and brushes, he turned back and was surprised to see the boy had figured out a system—he had stacked the coins into piles of ten, already making four neat rows.

Qi Beinan thought to himself, This little guy has a quick mind.

“There are two stacks of ten-ten coins, and three stacks of ten coins, and eight coins that aren’t a full stack,” said Xiao Yuanbao.

Qi Beinan nearly got dizzy from his phrasing. But after glancing at the stacks, he realized the boy meant there were 238 coins in total.

“Our Xiao Bao is really smart. You’ve already learned to count this fast. Next time, I’ll teach you how to count past ten.”

He separated out eight coins and handed them to Xiao Yuanbao. “This is a reward from your big brother.”

Xiao Yuanbao happily gave an “Mm!” and tucked the coins away.

Just the paper and ink alone today had cost 200 wen. These were always the most expensive—no wonder people said farming families couldn’t afford to send their sons to school.

Then there was the cost of the roast chicken and offal, the wine, the rented table, and the ox cart ride—another 115 wen spent.

Oh, and the ten wen for Xiao Yuanbao’s wontons in town.

All totaled, that was 325 wen spent—meaning he was short by 87 wen for the day.

Yep, another day of expenses exceeding earnings.

Still, Qi Beinan did the math—he had half the paper left, which should be enough for the remaining days selling couplets.

After all, it wasn’t every day he’d have someone like that old man boosting his popularity.

But as long as he didn’t need to buy more paper, even fewer sales would count as net profit. Easier to make it back.

Xiao Yuanbao had played all morning and was already tired. After changing into clean clothes and soaking his feet, he carefully placed the coins from Qi Beinan under his pillow and crawled under the covers for a nap—but ended up sleeping straight until early evening.

When he got up, hair a messy fluff, he heard a bit of commotion from the main room.

Thinking Madam Qin and Chao Ge’er had returned, he bolted out of bed and hurried outside to take a look.

The door to the main room was closed, and a brazier under the dining table kept the room warm.

It was his father drinking with Brother Fang!

Only then did he slow down.

“Xiao Bao’s awake,” said Xiao Hu, seeing the boy rubbing his eyes and beckoning him over.

He set down his wine cup and bent down to scoop up the still-warm Xiao Yuanbao. “Did you sleep well?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded and greeted Fang Youliang with a soft “Big Brother.”

Fang Youliang heard the gentle, sticky little voice and melted inside. He handed him a roasted mountain chestnut he’d just peeled.

Xiao Yuanbao took it, but didn’t eat it right away. Instead, he looked around with his round eyes, suddenly anxious. “Where’s Brother? Where did he go?”

“He’s in the kitchen.”

At that, Xiao Yuanbao slipped off Xiao Hu’s lap and ran straight to the kitchen.

“This child…” Xiao Hu chuckled, then poured more wine for Fang Youliang. “This autumn brew is decent—it goes well with the offal.”

Fang Youliang felt a little embarrassed being treated so warmly. Though their families used to visit each other often, it had been a long time.

When Xiao Hu came looking for him today, he was still in town selling firewood. His mother had told him Xiao Hu was offering work. If not for that, she probably wouldn’t have let him come drink.

You can’t keep freeloading forever—it just isn’t right.

But his family truly needed the income, so he’d thickened his skin and come anyway, bringing along a few wild winter bamboo shoots he’d dug up from the forest.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Qi Beinan deliberately priced his Spring Festival couplets two wen higher than other stalls. Originally, after checking the market price in Ling County, he intended to match it.

But since Old Chen had already hyped up the scene for him, he couldn’t let that go to waste.

If customers thought the price was too high, he could always drop it back to the market rate. If they didn’t, all the better.

Luckily, thanks to the commotion, none of the people waiting to buy couplets complained about the price—they probably thought it was worth it.

So Qi Beinan settled in and wrote couplets while collecting payment.

Xiao Yuanbao, seeing so many people gathered around their stall, felt nervous despite having become a bit more outgoing lately. It was the first time he’d been surrounded by so many strangers, with so many eyes on him.

He had originally been sitting quietly beside Qi Beinan, shrinking into himself and trying to hide under the table to minimize his presence. But one of the gers waiting to buy couplets, seeing how fair and adorable he looked, tried to make conversation and asked how old he was.

Startled, Xiao Yuanbao gripped Qi Beinan’s sleeve tightly, afraid someone would find out his age and try to kidnap him.

Qi Beinan found it amusing and said, “He’s a timid one, a bit shy. There’s no one at home today because everyone’s out in the fields, so I brought him along for a bit of fresh air.”

“What a pitiful little one,” the ger said, clearly moved with sympathy.

The ger even wanted to open their basket and offer a piece of cake to Xiao Yuanbao, but seeing how the boy was completely tucked behind Qi Beinan, face too shy to even peek out, he gave up.

He had only intended to buy one set of couplets but ended up taking two.

Qi Beinan worked for a good while before finally sending off the curious crowd.

Finally with a moment to rest, he shook out his slightly sore hand and gently pulled Xiao Yuanbao out from behind him. “They’re all gone now. Those people were here to buy from us, no need to be afraid. The more people come, the more we sell—and the more we sell, the more money we make. And with money, we can buy what we want.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought about it for a moment, then gave a small nod.

Qi Beinan smiled and gave his cheek a gentle pinch. Everything takes time—few are born brave. Most learn it later in life.

The little one had already been raised a bit timid before, and now he was trying to change—that wouldn’t happen overnight. It had to come slowly.

Just as Qi Beinan was about to let him experience the real benefits of earning money to help him overcome his fear of people, a clear, crisp voice interrupted.

“Little crybaby!”

Qi Beinan looked up and saw a girl with little braids had appeared beside the stall at some point. Her big eyes sparkled, and she was smiling brightly at Xiao Yuanbao.

Then he suddenly remembered—she was the young apprentice from the clinic.

Xiao Yuanbao also saw the little medicine girl. Seeing her teasing him made his cheeks turn red.

He pressed his lips together and looked away, muttering softly, “I’m not.”

The little girl stepped closer, tilted her head, and said to him, “Then who was it crying with red eyes when seeing the doctor?”

Xiao Yuanbao avoided her gaze, guilty. “I’m not scared anymore,” he murmured.

“Then come with me to the canal and light some firecrackers. I dare you.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up a little. He had seen Chao Ge’er play with firecrackers before, but the memory of the loud bangs made him hesitant.

“They explode near your feet. It’s scary,” he said.

The little apprentice frowned and said, “Only bad kids throw firecrackers near people’s feet! We’ll toss them into the canal to make splashes.”

Xiao Yuanbao was clearly tempted.

He looked cautiously toward Qi Beinan.

Qi Beinan smiled warmly—after all, kids talked best with other kids their age.

He took ten copper coins from the box, squatted down, and said to Xiao Yuanbao:

“We don’t have any firecrackers. But if this sister brings you to play, shouldn’t you thank her too?”

He pointed to the breakfast stall nearby and placed the coins in Xiao Yuanbao’s palm. “Buy her a bowl of little wontons. Once you’re full, go to the canal and light some firecrackers.”

Xiao Yuanbao clutched the coins nervously. He knew Qi Beinan made sense, but he had never bought food by himself before. Even though the stall was just a few steps away, he felt stuck.

He didn’t know what to do—until a soft, doughy little hand, just like his, took his.

The little girl jumped up excitedly and said to Qi Beinan, “Thank you, big brother!”

Then she turned her bright eyes to Xiao Yuanbao and said, “The wontons from this stall smell amazing! My father says the meat filling is freshly chopped before dawn every day—dense and juicy. If you come too late, there’s none left!”

Finally encouraged, Xiao Yuanbao took a step forward and followed the little medicine girl to the breakfast stall.

Qi Beinan nodded at the stall’s proprietress, who was wiping down the tables.

The two little ones clambered onto the bench and sat side by side. The proprietress clearly recognized the little girl and smiled.

“Gui Jie’er, what do you want to eat today? And who’s this little ger you brought along?”

Bai Qiaogui said, “He’s the ger from that couplet stall. Aunt, I want a bowl of little wontons.”

“You little rascal, not shy at all. Already made friends with the new stall, huh?”

The proprietress laughed. “Putting this on your family’s tab too? Will your father or Dr. Yang come settle it later?”

Bai Qiaogui shook her head and looked at Xiao Yuanbao.

Xiao Yuanbao’s heart tightened. He stammered a little as he responded to the woman, “Xiao… Xiao Bao is treating sister.”

His voice was as soft as a mosquito’s hum, and with his head lowered, the stall lady didn’t catch what he said. She let out a questioning “Hm?”

Xiao Yuanbao took a deep breath, lifted his head, and said clearly, “Xiao Bao is treating Sister!”

This time his voice was louder, and the stall lady finally heard it. “Then do you have the coins?”

Xiao Yuanbao loosened his grip and placed the tightly-clutched coins onto the table, piling them into a little mound.

Bai Qiaogui stretched out a finger and counted them one by one: “Exactly ten wen. That’s enough for both of us to have wontons!”

“Alrighty!”

The stall lady swept up the coins in one go. “Wait just a bit!”

Xiao Yuanbao finally let out a sigh of relief—he’d been so nervous just now.

But to his surprise, nothing bad happened. No one chopped off his fingers, and the lady didn’t scold or get angry. It seemed talking to strangers wasn’t such a big deal after all.

Bai Qiaogui cheerfully swung her feet, looking at the still-bewildered Xiao Yuanbao and asked, “What’s wrong?”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head. Then, remembering how she had just counted the coins, he said, “Sister can count copper coins.”

“Mm-hmm,” Qiaogui nodded. “I can count all the way to a hundred!”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up. “Sister, you’re amazing.”

Pleased by the praise, Bai Qiaogui grinned wide, revealing a pair of little tiger teeth.

The stall lady brought over two steaming bowls of wontons. Bai Qiaogui immediately scooped up a plump, round wonton with her spoon, blew on it, and offered it to Xiao Yuanbao: “Xiao Bao eats first.”

Xiao Yuanbao cautiously bit into it, and the fresh, savory meat flavor filled his mouth.

He squinted his eyes in delight—it was just like what Chao Ge’er had told him about the city’s wontons. They really weredelicious!

He happily wiggled his feet under the bench. Now he too had tasted fresh pork wontons from the city.

Qi Beinan watched the two little kids feeding each other—“you blow and feed me,” “I blow and feed you”—neither eating from their own bowl, and couldn’t help but find it funny.

Seeing them eat so cheerfully, a smile tugged at his own lips. He sat straighter and focused on writing a letter for a ger.

Now that the earlier crowd had left, the stall quieted down. Some people approached and asked if he could help write letters.

The year’s end was a time for family reunions, but many had no choice but to remain far from home. As the holidays approached, more people wanted to send letters to their loved ones.

Qi Beinan, having experienced the pain of separation himself, felt sympathy for such people. So he offered to write letters at a low price.

Each page cost only five wen, and he kept just a coin or two as a small fee for his effort.

Word spread about his fair prices, and many plainly dressed folks came asking him to write.

“You little girl, not at the clinic and had me looking all over. I just knew you’d be here by the canal playing with firecrackers.”

Qi Beinan was still writing while keeping an eye on the kids when he saw a stranger approach them. He quickly set down his brush.

He stood up, called Xiao Yuanbao over, and asked the middle-aged man, “May I ask, sir, who might you be?”

Before the man could speak, Bai Qiaogui piped up: “That’s my father!”

Qi Beinan’s brow lifted slightly. He turned and gave the man a respectful bow.

The man returned the gesture and affectionately pinched Qiaogui’s nose. “You little rascal—you’re too bold. Talking to everyone like they’re old friends.”

Bai Qiaogui said, “Big brother was really nice. He even had Xiao Bao treat me to wontons!”

The man’s expression changed slightly, casting a more scrutinizing look toward Qi Beinan. “Oh? Is that so?”

Qi Beinan sensed the shift in tone, a faint caution in the man’s eyes. He quietly sized him up—dressed in a modest dark blue cotton robe made from fine cloth. Not flashy, but certainly not poor.

There was also a faint scent on the man—cool, refined, and familiar. Qi Beinan recognized it immediately: Lanxue incense.

Lanxue was expensive and not exactly pleasant in fragrance. Wealthy households typically didn’t use it; it was more commonly burned by government clerks while handling official business—earning it the nickname “labor incense.”

Qi Beinan deduced that the man was likely an official of some sort. Otherwise, he wouldn’t be carrying the scent of an inner-office incense.

Judging by the man’s reaction to him treating Qiaogui to wontons, he probably suspected ulterior motives.

Qi Beinan said, “I’m a humble scholar from Geshan Village. Today’s my first time bringing my younger brother into town to set up a stall.”

“My younger brother is shy by nature. Luckily, he met Miss Qiaogui once before at Bao Yi Hall, and today she greeted him again and kindly invited him to play. So I let the two children share a bowl of warm wontons, lest they catch cold running about outside.”

Qiaogui quickly added, “The other day when Xiao Bao came to Dr. Yang’s clinic, he was so scared he nearly cried! I told him not to be afraid! And he gave me a rice cake!”

The man’s suspicion finally eased. He figured he had been overthinking it. The young scholar was clearly still in his teens—too young to be scheming.

He warmed up and said, “Thank you, young man.”

Back at the stall, the man noticed Qi Beinan’s elegant handwriting on the couplets. He picked one up and looked it over carefully, praising it aloud.

He asked whether Qi Beinan studied at a village school or a city academy, how old he was, and so on—learning that Qi Beinan had recently moved from another county.

That explained why his speech carried no regional accent, and confirmed the man’s earlier assumptions had been mistaken. He now felt a bit guilty.

Upon hearing his age, he was even more impressed. Qi Beinan had clearly won his respect.

“Meeting is fate. If you don’t mind, Uncle will take this couplet home. If the weather holds, I imagine you’ll be here for the next few days writing letters. If Qiaogui is around playing, let her come by and spend time with your little brother.”

The man didn’t refuse—he accepted the couplet. “It’s beautifully written. I’m thick-skinned. Since you’re offering, I’ll gladly accept.”

He added, “My girl has always been playful but picky about who she plays with. It’s rare for two children to get along so well. As you said, meeting is fate. I have here a labor permit from the county office. If it’s of any use to you, take it.”

Qi Beinan took it and saw it was indeed a county labor license—he immediately thanked the man sincerely.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Xiao Hu was delighted to see the two children return home without bringing the items back untouched. He immediately asked how things had gone at the Fang household.

Qi Beinan said, “From what I saw, Grandma Sun has likely lowered her guard a little. She even sent a few things back with us.”

“If we keep visiting often, it shouldn’t be much of a problem.”

After a few days of observing, Qi Beinan had figured out that his father-in-law really was too trusting by nature—but for a rough country man, that wasn’t so unusual.

Judging by what he’d seen, the closeness between the Xiao and Fang families in the past had likely been because Sun Yuan had put in the effort to maintain those ties.

Xiao Hu wasn’t good at managing social affairs, so after Sun Yuan passed, things naturally grew more distant. And with Qin Niazi adding fuel to the fire, it was no surprise the two households had grown cold.

Qi Beinan could only do his best to steer things along. He said to Xiao Hu, “Though the Fang family is getting warmer with us again, we still don’t know what caused the distance in the first place. It’d be better if we found out, so we can avoid it happening again. Don’t you think so, Uncle Xiao?”

Xiao Hu replied, “I’ve been thinking the same. I’m planning to invite the Fang family over for a meal to talk things out.”

Qi Beinan was pleased to hear Xiao Hu had that in mind. “That’s a good idea. But from what I gathered when chatting with Grandma Sun, she was closest with Aunt Sun before. Since we’re not hosting anything at home right now, she might not be willing to come. And even if she does, women and wives tend to speak more freely with each other. If you’re the one asking, she might not tell you the truth.”

Xiao Hu considered it and nodded. “You’re right. So what should we do?”

Of course, Qi Beinan had long since prepared for this—it was a great chance to peel back Qin Niazi’s façade. He said, “I’ve already invited Brother Fang to visit and chat when he has time. He seems like a straightforward person, so I think he’ll come.”

“If you really want to know why the Fang family distanced themselves, why not set aside a few coins to buy some wine? When Brother Fang comes, invite him to drink with you. With wine in the belly, words flow more easily, no?”

Xiao Hu let out a rare chuckle and praised, “That’s a good idea.”

He was more and more impressed by Qi Beinan. “You really think things through well. When I have time, I’ll head to town and get some good wine.”

Qi Beinan knew Xiao Hu had been busy tending to the farmland lately. Though most of the land was leased out, some was kept for growing rice and vegetables. And if the soil wasn’t loosened and the irrigation cleared in winter, it wouldn’t be fertile come spring. If the harvest was to be good, the land had to be worked.

Qi Beinan had originally suggested going out to the fields with him, but Xiao Hu refused, asking him instead to stay home and look after Xiao Bao.

Seeing that it wasn’t the peak of the farming season, Qi Beinan didn’t insist. He said, “The weather’s been cold but dry these past few days. The new year is coming up, and town is lively—I’m thinking of setting up a stall to write letters and couplets.”

“Uncle Xiao, just tell me where the good wine is. I’ll go fetch it.”

Xiao Hu was a little surprised by his plan, but still nodded.

He wasn’t sure if folks would actually pay a child this young to write spring couplets—but he figured making money wasn’t the most important thing. What mattered was the intent.

As a man, having the drive to earn one’s own way early in life and the willingness to act on it—that was a good trait.

“Alright! Then take Xiao Bao with you when you go.”

Qi Beinan had been planning that anyway. Bringing Xiao Bao along more often would help him grow bolder and more cheerful.

Unlike the children of wealthy households, who didn’t leave the compound but had tutors brought in to teach them and broaden their horizons, kids in farming families who never left the house truly did grow up knowing nothing about the world.

It was rare and precious that their views aligned so well. Qi Beinan felt reassured.

He was about to call Xiao Bao over and ask if he wanted to go into town—only to find the boy had disappeared.

At that moment, Xiao Bao was standing in front of a low bamboo table about his height, staring at the pile of roasted sweet potatoes on top, fretting over how to divide them.

There were five: one big, four small.

Two for his father, two for his brother, and one left for himself!

He picked up the biggest one and agonized—should it go to Father or to Brother?

Father worked so hard in the fields and often went into the mountains, where there was nothing good to eat—so pitiful!

Xiao Bao nodded to himself and placed the big one in his father’s share.

But then he thought again—Brother just joined the family, maybe he’s never even had roasted sweet potatoes before. He should be treated well!

So he moved the big one to Brother’s side.

But Father liked sweet potatoes just like him… and Brother didn’t say he liked them, did he?

Xiao Bao kept moving the sweet potato back and forth, unable to decide fairly.

Finally, he made a decision… He peeled the big sweet potato and, face down, sadly ate it himself.

—

The next day, Qi Beinan rose early.

Planning to set up a stall in town, he needed to get there before the crowd dispersed or business would be poor.

He opened the trunk, taking out his writing brush, inkstone, and inkstick.

He hadn’t brought red paper for couplets from home since he had very little on hand and didn’t want to risk it getting wet on the road—he’d buy some in town instead.

After packing his things, the sky was just beginning to lighten. He prepared to go wake Xiao Bao.

The night before, he had lit two charcoal braziers in Xiao Bao’s room, so the chill had been mostly driven away.

In a countryside mud-brick house, charcoal alone couldn’t make things truly warm, but it did help the child sleep more comfortably.

Just as he feared the bed might be too warm and the child might want to sleep in, Qi Beinan opened the bedroom door—only to see a round little bundle huddled at the doorway, standing tiptoe and staring at his feet, having clearly been waiting there for quite a while.

As soon as he emerged, the child lifted his little face, eyes curling into a bright smile.

“You’re up so early? You’re all dressed too.”

Qi Beinan squatted down and noticed the little hat for town trips was already on his head.

Xiao Bao shyly pursed his lips and reached out to hold Qi Beinan’s hand.

They had said the night before they’d be going to town today. He’d been so excited that he could hardly fall asleep, tossing and turning all night. Afraid he might oversleep and Qi Beinan would leave without him, he had woken up at first light.

The night before, he’d soaked his feet with his father and brother until they were pink from the heat, and with the brazier warming the room, the bed had been wonderfully toasty when he woke up.

But he didn’t dare linger—he threw off the covers and got dressed right away.

Qi Beinan knew he’d been looking forward to it, so he held his hand and took him to wash up and rinse his mouth.

By the time they arrived at the county town, the morning market had just begun and was already bustling.

Qi Beinan found a general goods shop and rented an old long table with three plain round stools, quickly securing a spot in the busy street.

Then he went to the book shop to buy three batches of red paper in varying quality, along with a set of letter paper and envelopes. He even noticed they were selling gold ink and bought half a stick.

Gold ink was expensive, much more so than regular black ink, but it produced a bright, gilded hue—perfect for the festive season. Some merchants would buy gold-inked couplets and “fu” characters to display their prosperity.

Once preparations were complete, Qi Beinan laid out his stall.

Xiao Bao had never seen anyone selling couplets before and wanted to help, but didn’t know what to do, so he just stood obediently near the leg of the table and watched.

“How old are you, little friend?”

As Qi Beinan spread two sheets of rough paper across the table to prevent ink stains on the rental surface and was just pressing it down with paperweights, a voice came from beside him.

It turned out another calligrapher had also set up a couplet stall next to his. The man had a wispy beard on his chin and wore a traditional Confucian headscarf common among scholars.

His face was lined with age, clearly over forty, and the black headscarf was likely to lend him an air of gravity.

From the glint of amusement in the older man’s eyes, Qi Beinan could tell he found the idea of someone his age selling couplets rather laughable.

Still, since the man was older, Qi Beinan gave him a respectful scholar’s salute and replied, “Ten.”

The man raised his brow, clearly surprised that Qi Beinan was even younger than he’d expected.

“Ten? How many characters has your teacher taught you, then? How many can you actually write?”

His tone was openly condescending.

Qi Beinan remained unfazed. “I’m not especially talented, but I’ve learned most of what my teacher taught me.”

The old man chuckled—such arrogance from a child.

“You do realize writing couplets isn’t just copying a couple of lines like ‘a bountiful harvest and thriving livestock’? People buy the characters themselves!”

“You can’t just pick up a brush and call yourself a master. Without ten-plus years of work, who’d dare show off in the street like this?”

The nearby street food vendors and early market-goers had caught wind of the brewing drama and started gathering around.

The old man seemed to be deliberately picking a fight, using Qi Beinan as bait to attract attention—then he could laugh him off and sell a few couplets to the crowd.

Although the town was crowded, there were many stalls; without a bit of spectacle, most booths would get ignored.

People loved a commotion. Once they saw a crowd, even if they were busy, they had to squeeze in and see what was going on.

Clearly enjoying the attention, the old man said, “Go fetch your teacher if you want a few sales. A little child like you, standing here freezing for nothing—if you’re that desperate, I could at least get you a job copying books at a script shop.”

Then he turned to the crowd, hoping for affirmation. “Of course, that depends on whether the boy’s writing is any good. Am I right, folks?”

He must’ve been selling couplets here for a long time—several familiar customers chimed in:

“Master Chen’s right.”

Xiao Bao, nervous from the rising tension, shrank behind Qi Beinan.

Qi Beinan hadn’t wanted to bother with this arrogant elder, nor did he want to embarrass him. But when the man started using him to attract business and even frightened Xiao Bao, that was going too far.

With a calm voice, Qi Beinan replied, “Thank you for the advice, sir.”

Then he pulled Xiao Bao to sit on the stool next to him and sat down himself.

The bystanders realized he was about to write and leaned in, curious to see if the boy had any real skill.

The old man chuckled, “Oh? So we’re getting a demonstration now?”

Qi Beinan dipped his brush in ink, his slender fingers steady, his strokes smooth and flowing.

In a matter of moments, a couplet reading:

“Plum and bamboo bring peace, spring overflows with joy;
Parents flourish, and longevity springs eternal.”

was completed—followed by a final stroke for the horizontal scroll:

“All things go well.”

There was a beat of silence.

Those who couldn’t read admired the visual elegance, while the literate ones immediately exclaimed in praise.

The old man craned his neck and finally caught a glimpse—and what he saw made his heart sink.

The characters weren’t just neat “for a child,” they were powerful, confident, with a strength of brushwork that frankly rivaled his own—even after decades of writing.

If not from a family with deep scholarly roots, how could a child this young possess such skill?

Old Chen had taken one look at the two plainly dressed boys and assumed they were from a poor household—never imagining they were descendants of a learned lineage.

He’d thought he was picking a soft persimmon to squeeze, only to grab a burning hot stone instead.

“Master Chen, what do you think of the boy’s calligraphy? Good or not? Shall we call a teacher over for him?”
One of the onlookers who understood what was going on couldn’t resist teasing the old man.

Old Chen scrambled to save face. But seeing that Qi Beinan was using a low-grade pig-bristle brush and the most basic red paper sold at thirty wen for ten sheets from the bookshop, he couldn’t even fall back on the excuse that the brush or paper made the writing look good.

He was a scholar after all. With so many people watching, his face did burn a little with shame.

So he didn’t answer the teasing at all. With a cold snort, he packed his things into his calligraphy box, gave a flick of his sleeve, and left.

Qi Beinan gave a subtle shake of his head. He hadn’t even shown the full strength of his hand—after all, back in the capital, his couplets once fetched hefty silver. But today he had deliberately reined in his skill, doing his best to write like a proper youth.

And yet this old man, not even older than him in truth, had dared to lecture him about seniority.

With a gracious smile, Qi Beinan addressed the curious onlookers, “I write couplets and letters on commission. If any sirs, gentlemen, young ladies, or scholars are in need, please come this way.”

“How much for a set of couplets? I want one!”

Qi Beinan replied, “Ten wen for the basic paper, twelve for mid-grade, and fifteen for the high-grade.”

“Then I’ll take a set too!”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Two days later, Qi Beinan gathered the half-pound of cotton he had bought in town, along with the items Xiao Hu had prepared earlier to send to the Fang family:

—A piece of smoked cured meat weighing about three jin
—A sack of white flour
—And half a jar of lard paste

It was quite a bit, all of it practical.

The Fang family’s rear wall had collapsed, and though villagers had helped them repair it, they clearly hadn’t even been able to put together a meal to thank them—showing just how tight things were at home.

These supplies wouldn’t lay out a full banquet, but they’d certainly add some meat to the table—enough for a few flavorful dishes.

“I’ll carry it! I can carry it!”

Xiao Bao followed right beside Qi Beinan’s legs, eager and bouncing at the news they were going to Grandpa Fang’s house. He tiptoed up, insisting on carrying something.

This child, after just two or three days living with Qi Beinan, had already forgotten all about trying to kick him out—now he clung to him constantly.

If Qi Beinan fed the chickens and ducks, he’d follow with husks to help open the coop; if Qi Beinan chopped wood in the courtyard, he’d carry the chopped logs over to the stove…

No matter what was being done, he had to be there. Even if Qi Beinan was just sitting in the room writing, Xiao Bao would peek in two or three times—never daring to disturb, only peeking from the doorway, as if afraid Qi Beinan would vanish if left unseen for a moment.

Qi Beinan had originally intended to pack everything into the basket, placing the cotton on top to cover the rest—convenient for carrying to the Fang home and preventing anyone from seeing too much.

But seeing Xiao Bao circling the basket insisting on helping, he relented and took out the small jar of lard paste.

Xiao Bao wrapped both arms tightly around the jar and happily ran out into the courtyard.

Xiao Hu, bare-legged and holding a metal rake, had just returned from digging a trench in the fields when he saw the pair about to head out.

He had been unusually withdrawn these last two days, speaking even less than usual. Seeing them about to leave, he looked to Qi Beinan and asked, “Heading out?”

Before Qi Beinan could reply, Xiao Bao beat him to it: “We’re going to Grandpa Fang’s!”

Xiao Hu’s brows lifted as he looked at the smiling-eyed Xiao Bao in surprise.

He realized the boy seemed braver after spending time with Qi Beinan.

Whether it was the suspicions he’d developed after the events of the past few days or something else, Xiao Hu now noticed more closely—especially things he might’ve missed before.

Back when he and Qin Niazi spoke, Xiao Bao would barely say a word—either hiding behind a door or shrinking into a corner. Even when spoken to directly, his answers were few and timid.

Yet here he was, speaking up on his own.

Xiao Hu’s expression softened. He patted Xiao Bao’s cheek and said, “It’s slippery out. Be careful.”

Xiao Bao nodded. “I know. I won’t break the jar.”

Xiao Hu looked up at Qi Beinan. “You’re delivering those?”

Qi Beinan, glad to see the father and son getting along, nodded. “I’m bringing the cotton for the clothes and figured I’d deliver these items too while we’re at it.”

Xiao Hu responded with a quiet, “Alright.”

Watching them go, he felt uneasy. Even though Qi Beinan had visited the Fang family recently and seemed to be getting along, it was hard to say if they’d accept gifts now.

If today’s visit could mend things between the two families, Xiao Hu resolved to go into town and buy wine and food to share with the Fang family—sit down and have a proper conversation.

After all, how had such close neighbors become so distant?

Qi Beinan and Xiao Bao had just entered the bamboo grove when Xiao Bao pointed up ahead and said excitedly, “It’s Big Brother Fang!”

Qi Beinan looked where he pointed and indeed saw a young man dressed in autumn-season ramie clothes, shoulders patched with scraps.

He was carrying two tightly bound bundles of firewood, each step leaving deep prints in the mud.

Hearing someone behind him, the young man turned—his face red with heat, beads of sweat covering his forehead and nose despite the chill.

“Xiao Bao?”

Fang Youliang set down the firewood and wiped his face, recognizing Xiao Bao and seeing the tall, unfamiliar youth behind him.

He had heard from home that someone from Xiao Bao’s mother’s side had come to stay—though he hadn’t met him yet, he figured this must be the one.

“Yeah!” Xiao Bao responded quickly, hurrying over with quick, hopping steps.

“Xiao Bao’s going to Big Brother Fang’s house!”

Fang Youliang chuckled at the sight of him bouncing over. “Slow down.”

Xiao Bao couldn’t help asking after Fang’s second and third siblings—he hadn’t seen them last time either.

Unfortunately, they were gone again today. They’d gone to visit their maternal grandparents and likely wouldn’t make it back before nightfall.

Xiao Bao’s mood dipped, and he quietly returned to Qi Beinan’s side.

Qi Beinan took his hand and greeted Fang Youliang: “You must be Big Brother Fang.”

By seniority, Fang Youliang should be addressed as “uncle,” but he was still young, so Qi Beinan followed Xiao Bao’s lead. Since they weren’t blood relatives, formality wasn’t as important.

Fang Youliang smiled and nodded. “I just heard from my mother the other day about Brother Qi. Didn’t have time to come by, but now that I see you, you really are a handsome one.”

Qi Beinan returned the courtesy with a few polite words. The wind was chilly, and the three of them headed to the Fang household together.

“The clothes are already cut to shape,” Grandma Sun said. “Xiao Bao’s here just in time to try them on.”

Grandma Sun saw the two children arriving at her home and cheerfully welcomed them inside, bringing out the clothes she had been working on.

The fabric they’d brought two days ago was already cut and sewn into shape. When compared against Xiao Bao, the sizing was just right.

Qi Beinan set down the basket and said, “Grandma, your hands are really quick. Good thing I brought the cotton today—if the clothes had already been sewn shut, it would’ve been hard to add it in.”

“It’s no trouble. I was just thinking I’d work a bit faster so Xiao Bao can wear his new clothes in time for the New Year,” Grandma Sun said with a smile as she tidied up the fabric.

Qi Beinan then pulled out a big bundle of soft, fluffy cotton from the basket—just looking at it made one feel warm.

Next, he took out the cured meat and sack of flour. Upon seeing them, Grandma Sun’s expression changed, and she quickly reached out to stop Qi Beinan’s hand. “Child, what are you doing—this won’t do!”

Qi Beinan had expected she might refuse and put on a troubled face. “Grandma, look at you, you’re already rejecting me before I’ve even said a word. The other day you said you were close with Aunt Sun, but today you’re being so distant. You won’t even let me speak—could it be you don’t like me visiting?”

Grandma Sun knew that being overly polite could hurt people’s feelings, making it seem like her family didn’t want to be close. Children couldn’t understand such things, but adults could.

She felt torn. She didn’t want to give Qin Niazi any reason to speak badly of her family, but she also didn’t want to hurt Qi Beinan’s feelings.

“Good child, my affection for your Aunt Sun is genuine. Grandma really is happy to have you here. It’s just that making clothes is nothing—it doesn’t call for gifts like these.”

Qi Beinan spoke gently, “Even if your needlework is skilled, making a set of clothes still takes thread, time, candlelight at night, and strain on the eyes. That’s not a small thing.”

He went on calmly, “I brought these things not for anything else, just because of the relationship you spoke of. Uncle Xiao said it himself—hiring someone in town to make clothes would cost copper coins. But between neighbors like us, let’s not talk about money and feelings. These are just everyday things everyone uses and eats.”

Then, pretending to be a little upset, he said, “If you don’t like these things and won’t accept them, I’ll just take them back. Next time, I won’t dare bother you again.”

Grandma Sun felt deeply guilty at his words.

The guardedness she had built up because of Qin Niazi now softened completely under Qi Beinan’s sincere tone.

After all, Qi Beinan had asked for a favor first before offering gifts—this made the gesture feel more genuine and easier to accept.

She gently patted his hand. “Alright then, Grandma will accept them. Just make sure you and Xiao Bao come often. Your Grandpa Fang lies in bed all day and enjoys having company around.”

Fang Youliang had just returned from putting the firewood in the backyard. Wiping his sweat with a sleeve, he stepped into the main room just in time to hear Qi Beinan talking to his mother.

He thought to himself—this child might be young, but he really knows how to talk. He’s far more articulate than Xiao Bao’s father. Truly the son of a scholar’s household.

He didn’t go into the room immediately but instead went to the kitchen and poured two bowls of hot water for Qi Beinan and Xiao Bao.

There wasn’t even a bit of rough tea at home, only plain boiled water—but poor as they were, they couldn’t treat guests poorly.

“Thank you, Brother Fang,” Qi Beinan said, taking the hot water and blowing on it before handing it to Xiao Bao, who’d been standing quietly at his side the whole time.

Warmed by the drink, Xiao Bao perked up. He bounced around the room proudly telling Grandma Sun that he had carried the jar of lard paste himself.

Grandma Sun found him simply adorable. She brought him into the kitchen, saying she’d roast sweet potatoes for him—and Xiao Bao happily followed, even asking her to roast a couple for Qi Beinan too.

“Looks like there’s a lot of firewood stacked in the yard. All chopped by you, Brother Fang?” Qi Beinan asked as he saw Fang Youliang organizing the big pile.

“Yep. I’ve been up the mountain the past couple of days. In winter, folks in town burn more firewood, so it sells better than usual. Gotta stock up and send some in,” Fang Youliang replied.

Qi Beinan recalled that back in Qiuxian, his own family also bought firewood.

In warmer months, it was easier to cut wood, and it burned slower. A cartload cost maybe ten or twenty copper coins. But in the cold season, demand rose, wood was harder to cut, and prices jumped—as high as thirty or more copper coins per load.

But for those who sold it in small amounts, even with the winter markup, one bundle only fetched three to five coins.

“It’s the folks with livestock who benefit the most from hauling firewood,” Qi Beinan commented as he helped stack the scattered wood neatly.

“If there’s good wood up in the mountains, sure, you can chop a lot in a day. But carrying it down and getting it to town? Without a cow or donkey, you’re lucky to bring one or two bundles at a time.”

Fang Youliang nodded and chuckled, “True. But I can manage to carry four bundles in one trip from the mountain. Saves me a couple runs.”

Qi Beinan was a little surprised. “Most people can only carry two bundles. Brother Fang, you can carry four?”

“I don’t have much else going for me. Just young and strong.”

He smiled, then sighed, “But no matter how strong I am, I’m still no match for a beast of burden. Can’t make much money this way. One day, when I’ve saved up a little, I’ll grit my teeth and buy myself an animal.”

Qi Beinan admired the drive and determination in him.

To live a hard life without losing the will for better days—that was rare.

Though they appeared to be a few years apart in age, they found themselves surprisingly easy to talk to, and ended up chatting for quite a while.

If Fang Youliang hadn’t needed to head back to the mountain, they probably could’ve chatted for much longer.

Seeing there was still more he wanted to say, Qi Beinan took the chance to extend an invitation, “I’ve come alone to stay with Uncle Xiao’s family. Though they treat me kindly and I’ve not found it hard to settle in, it’s still all unfamiliar here. Aside from the Xiaos, I don’t know a soul. Most days, I don’t even have someone to talk to.”

“If Brother Fang doesn’t mind my youth, please come visit me often.”

Fang Youliang saw his mother had already accepted the things brought from the Xiao household, and hearing Qi Beinan speak so sincerely, he readily agreed.

On the way back, Xiao Bao, who had come holding the jar of lard, now carried a whole bundle of soft, steaming roasted sweet potatoes in his arms.

He had eaten two himself, and was saving the rest to share with Xiao Hu.

Qi Beinan’s now-emptied basket was filled with large, freshly washed white radishes and tender green winter amaranth—gifts from Grandma Sun.

He didn’t refuse, accepting them with ease. This back-and-forth, after all, was how relationships were built again.

After seeing the two off, Grandma Sun stood with Fang Youliang, looking at the meat, flour, and lard Qi Beinan had brought, not knowing what to say.

With these things at hand, if they slaughtered one of their chickens and spent ten or so copper coins on a fish, the thank-you meal for the villagers could come together—simple, but enough.

That meant they wouldn’t need to worry about Fang Jie’er and Fang Ge’er  failing to borrow money or rice from their maternal relatives either.

“I think this Young Master Qi is a good one, completely different from that Qin woman,” said Grandma Sun. “He’s a year younger than our Fang Ge’er, but speaks and acts like a grown man. He’s a scholar—naturally he’s seen more of the world. Not like us common folk who can’t even read. And he’s so kind to Xiao Bao—clearly not cut from the same cloth as that Qin woman.”

Fang Youliang nodded, “We’ll keep our distance from that Qin woman, but stay on good terms with Young Master Qi.”

Grandma Sun nodded too. “That’s right.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

That night, Qi Beinan reheated the leftover rice and vegetables from noon.

Xiao Hu wasn’t particularly skilled at cooking and could never properly estimate how much food three people would eat. He always made a whole big pot, enough for one adult and two children to eat for two days.

During the meal, Xiao Hu looked a bit embarrassed and muttered that things would be better once Qin Niazi came back.

Qi Beinan, however, felt that eating rougher food was far preferable to going and fetching Qin Niazi back.

As he reheated the food, he also set up the brazier and prepared to decoct the medicine they’d brought back from the clinic.

As soon as Xiao Bao saw the brazier was brought out, he ran over at once. He squatted in front of the brazier, fed in a few small sticks and a handful of dry grass, and somehow produced a little palm fan from who knows where, gently fanning at the brazier’s mouth.

White smoke immediately rose from within the brazier.

Qi Beinan came out with the medicine packet and let out a soft “Ah!” He was just worried the smoke would sting Xiao Bao’s eyes when he saw that the firewood had already caught nicely.

Xiao Bao shifted his squatting position slightly and kept fanning the fire in small bursts.

“You know how to start a fire, Xiao Bao?”

Qi Beinan was truly surprised. Keeping a fire going was one thing—starting it was no easy task.

Xiao Bao nodded. “I help Qin Niazi start the fire. She does the cooking.”

Qi Beinan’s brows twitched slightly. He was about to ask whether Wang Chao did any of it, but just then, he caught sight of a figure walking through the courtyard.

So instead, he changed his tone and praised, “Xiao Bao is so sensible, knowing how to help Qin Niazi cook with Chao Ge’er.”

Xiao Bao didn’t realize Qi Beinan was subtly probing him. He just beamed, happy to be praised, his eyes curving into crescents.

Qi Beinan had taken him to the county seat, then to visit Grandpa Fang’s house—Xiao Bao liked this older brother a lot, so he leaned in to share a little secret: “Only I know how to do it. Chao Ge’er doesn’t.”

Hearing the joy in Xiao Bao’s voice, Qi Beinan’s heart clenched slightly. He said, “How could Chao Ge’er not know how?”

“Qin Niazi says he’s dumb. Can’t learn to light the fire or keep it going. She only taught me. I picked it up!”

Xiao Bao had rarely been praised by Qin Niazi—especially praised for being better than Chao Ge’er. So he was overjoyed. He didn’t know Qin Niazi only taught him so she could make him do the work. He truly believed he was just smarter than Chao Ge’er. Every time they cooked, he didn’t need to be called. He’d run to start the fire on his own.

Children don’t understand these things—but Qi Beinan certainly did. He knew what kind of person Qin Niazi was. This behavior, coming from her, was no surprise—but it still made him ache for Xiao Bao.

The person who felt the most shaken at that moment, however, was Xiao Hu, who had just come back from outside.

Xiao Hu had always been a rough man, spending years hunting beasts in the mountains. He couldn’t match someone like Qi Beinan—who’d mingled with people in the bureaucratic world—in carefulness and perception.

If it had just been Xiao Bao’s words, he might not have heard anything wrong. He’d probably have felt pleased, even proud, seeing the child light a fire so deftly.

But back when he returned from the mountains, Qin Niazi had always made sure he saw Wang Chao helping with the cooking. Xiao Hu used to think the boy was obedient and hardworking.

Wang Chao, in truth, rarely did these chores. If he had to put on a show, he’d often fail to light the fire, causing it to go out. Qin Niazi would scold him repeatedly for it.

Xiao Hu, not understanding, had even once defended the child, saying that at his age, it was already good that he was helping. Why scold him so harshly?

Qin Niazi would always say that since Wang Chao was already older, it was time he learned these basics of farm life—unlike Xiao Bao, who was still young and should be coddled and carefree.

Xiao Hu had always taken these words to heart, thinking Qin Niazi was a wise and caring woman.

But now, hearing Xiao Bao speak, things clearly didn’t match the picture he’d once believed in.

A small child might say silly things, but he’d seen it with his own eyes: Xiao Bao had expertly coaxed the fire into a steady burn—how could that be faked?

A tangled mess of feelings churned in Xiao Hu’s chest. What Qin Niazi had done felt like a thorn lodged deep: he couldn’t cough it up, couldn’t swallow it down.

He couldn’t understand—why would Qin Niazi go through the trouble of faking all this? Even if Wang Chao didn’t do a thing, he wouldn’t have minded. Why the deception?

And he was filled with regret. He and Xiao Bao were distant. The child never told him any of this, and he realized just how blind he had been.

“Back already, Uncle Xiao?” Qi Beinan looked up just in time, as if only now noticing Xiao Hu’s return, and called out politely.

Xiao Hu exhaled and nodded, quickly walking over.

“You’ve got the brazier going. What are you planning to cook?”

Qi Beinan didn’t mention he’d brought Xiao Bao to the clinic. He simply said, “We went to the clinic today to get ointment for his frostbite. The doctor there specializes in children. He looked at Xiao Bao and said his body’s a bit weak, diagnosed him as qi-deficient, so he prescribed a tonic too.”

Xiao Hu’s face changed instantly. He grew anxious. “How could he be qi-deficient?! Which clinic did you go to?”

Afraid Xiao Hu might think they’d been conned by some quack, Qi Beinan quickly clarified, “It was Bao Yi Tang on Willow Lane. The physician on duty was Dr. Yang.”

Xiao Hu pressed on: “Did he say anything else serious?!”

Qi Beinan recounted everything the doctor had said in detail.

Xiao Hu listened, heart clenching tighter and tighter with every word.

Qi Beinan, seeing this, tried to reassure him: “The doctor said that with proper care, it’s nothing to worry about. I’ll brew the medicine on time and take him back for a follow-up later.”

Xiao Hu had always believed it when Qin Niazi told him Xiao Bao was doing fine. To suddenly learn the child was physically weak—it left him reeling.

He uneasily asked again, “That’s really all the doctor said?”

Qi Beinan reassured him, “Uncle Xiao, don’t worry. If there were anything seriously wrong with Xiao Bao, I would never keep it from you. If you’re still unsure, you can come with us to the clinic next time and hear it straight from the doctor.”

Xiao Hu felt a wave of lingering fear—and a deeper sense of gratitude toward Qi Beinan. “Good thing you brought Xiao Bao to the clinic. Otherwise, I still wouldn’t have known.”

He crouched down and lifted Xiao Bao into his arms, heart aching. A thousand words came to mind, but looking into Xiao Bao’s innocent, wide eyes, he didn’t know what to say.

Sun Yuan had left him just this one child. If anything happened to him, how could he ever face her?

The boy now had frostbite and was already weak. Xiao Hu had been so focused on making a living in the mountains that he’d ended up neglecting his son.

Back then, knowing full well that mountain work made it easy to overlook the child, he’d deliberately sought out a stepmother—someone reliable—to help care for him. He’d provided good food and good clothing, yet in the end, the boy still ended up like this.

His thoughts were a mess. He truly didn’t know what to make of Qin Niazi.

If he said she mistreated Xiao Bao, he felt that couldn’t be quite right. But if he said she didn’t—then why had the child’s health suffered so?

Back when Xiao Bao was staying with the Fang family, Xiao Hu had always known it wasn’t a long-term solution. He himself was clumsy and rough, not fit to raise a small child. So he had asked a trustworthy matchmaker to help find him a virtuous and dependable woman to marry.

The matchmaker was an old acquaintance, with a solid reputation. She’d run around for quite a while before finally bringing back news of a widow in Fanggu Village—widow Wang, with one son, just past thirty.

That widow was Qin Niazi.

Her husband, surnamed Wang, had been more than ten years older. Back then, her family had run into trouble and needed money badly. The Wang family offered a betrothal gift larger than most, so even though the match wasn’t a good one, her family still sent her off.

Life in the Wang household hadn’t been easy. The husband was a half-baked feng shui charlatan—money came and went unreliably. And as Qin Niazi had often complained, he was generous and showy to outsiders but stingy at home, leaving his family with nothing.

Despite her hardships, Qin Niazi had been a capable woman. She cooked well, treated her in-laws with great respect, and took care of everything at home. But since she only bore one son, the Wang family still disliked her.

Her husband was often drunk and abusive, and her days were bitter.

Then the unexpected happened. He died during one of his out-of-town trips—dead drunk.

Left a widow, she found no sympathy in the Wang household. In fact, they resented her more, using her lack of a male heir as an excuse to try and drive her and her son out.

When Xiao Hu heard all this, he thought: surely a woman who’s suffered so much would know how to cherish others.

He had someone investigate discreetly, and once it matched what the matchmaker had said, he finalized the marriage.

When Qin Niazi first came to the Xiao household, she was indeed very kind and virtuous. She cooked beautifully and always said she was grateful to Xiao Hu for pulling her out of the mud. She even treated Xiao Bao very well.

There was one time Xiao Hu returned from the mountains unexpectedly and found her drenched in mud and rain, rushing out to fetch a doctor for fever-stricken Xiao Bao. After giving him the medicine, she stayed up through the night until his fever broke before resting.

Xiao Hu had seen it all. He thought, for a stepmother to do this much—what more could be said?

He even asked Xiao Bao privately if Qin Niazi treated him well. The child had said yes, and that he liked her.

So Xiao Hu never doubted her again. He handed over most of the money he earned to her care and let her manage the household freely.

With those memories still fresh, Xiao Hu had mostly calmed down after a full day. He reminded himself that he’d spent so long up in the mountains. Qin Niazi had been running the household and raising two kids all on her own—that wasn’t easy.

Couples living under the same roof were bound to argue. There was no need to escalate things over something small. As a man, he didn’t need to nitpick. He’d thought that come tomorrow, he’d go to his in-laws’ house and bring the two of them back.

But these new revelations had shaken the image he had of Qin Niazi as someone who loved the child.

His heart was in turmoil now. He couldn’t even think about going to fetch her.

Qi Beinan noticed the dark expression on Xiao Hu’s face, but he felt slightly relieved. Even though he knew exactly what kind of person Qin Niazi was, and knew what Xiao Bao had suffered under her care, he had still refrained from speaking ill of her directly.

First, he had only just arrived at the Xiao household—barely a few days. If he immediately started criticizing Qin Niazi, how would Xiao Hu interpret that? After all, Qin Niazi had lived here for over a year and had made a decent impression. If she suddenly became the “bad one” after Qi Beinan’s arrival, wouldn’t that look suspicious?

And besides, pointing fingers at someone older—especially a wife—was a delicate matter. No matter how true his words were, adults tended to see such outspokenness from children as disrespectful, arrogant, ungrateful, and unruly.

What adults liked were obedient, manageable children. If he came on too strong, he’d gain nothing—worse, he might be driven out.

Second, even though Qin Niazi was indeed domineering, in Xiao Hu’s eyes, Qi Beinan was just a ten-year-old child. Along with a younger Xiao Bao, they might say a hundred things, but the grown-ups would probably just dismiss them as exaggerations or misunderstandings. And Qin Niazi was, after all, someone Xiao Hu had chosen and brought home as his wife—if Qi Beinan attacked her character, it would hurt Xiao Hu’s pride as a man. Even if he said nothing aloud, he wouldn’t take it well.

So rather than risk that, Qi Beinan would rather play the long game—slowly and patiently let Xiao Hu discover Qin Niazi’s true nature for himself.

That would be worth more than a thousand warnings from anyone else.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

The Fang family was a typical village household scraping by on a few acres of land—five people, fifteen mu of fields.

They rarely had any surplus harvest, and on top of that, Old Fang was bedridden and unable to work, constantly relying on medicine. Most of the time, they were barely able to fill the rice jar. If they weren’t borrowing money, that was already considered a good time.

The eldest son of the Fang family was already over twenty, still unmarried, unable to save enough for betrothal gifts or afford a wedding feast. In the village, other men his age already had two children running around, while he remained alone.

Back in the day, Old Fang was the same. Born into poverty, he didn’t marry until well into his twenties, to Widow Sun, who had fled here after losing her husband.

They had their first child at an older age. Now the eldest son was nearing the same age Old Fang had been when he married, and still had no prospects. The entire family was anxious about it.

When Qi Beinan brought Xiao Bao into the Fang family’s yard, Grandma Sun was sweeping under the eaves.

After villagers had helped repair the earthen wall that had collapsed from the wind and rain, the yard was left scattered with muddy debris and broken bamboo.

“Grandma Sun.”

Xiao Bao had once been close to Grandma Sun, but it had been a long time since he visited. Now he was a bit shy and called out in a small voice.

“Bao Ge’er?”

Grandma Sun looked up at the sound, saw the unfamiliar face of Qi Beinan, and froze for a moment.

She straightened her hunched back. “What brings you here?”

“I came with my gege,” Xiao Bao replied.

“Gege?” Grandma Sun asked, confused.

Qi Beinan stepped forward politely and greeted her as “Grandma Sun,” using the same term of respect as Xiao Bao. He explained that he was from Xiao Bao’s mother’s side of the family and had come to rely on the Xiao household after a family misfortune.

Hearing that he was a relation from Xiao Bao’s mother’s side, Grandma Sun was momentarily dazed, but a warmth blossomed in her heart.

Xiao Bao’s mother had also carried the surname Sun. They weren’t blood relatives, but they were of the same clan. Madam Sun had been virtuous and kind, and just like Grandma Sun, she too had married into the village from elsewhere.

They had gotten along quickly and warmly—often going to the market together and working on needlework side by side. The two households had once been so close that whenever they cooked anything good, they’d always bring a bowl over to share, just like family.

When Sun Yuan passed, Grandma Sun had fallen ill from grief. Even though it had been two years, the Fang family still often spoke of her fondly.

Despite the distance that had grown between their families, Grandma Sun still regarded Yuan Shi with affection. Seeing one of her relatives now, she was all kindness.

“What a poor child… When did you arrive? I didn’t even know.”

Qi Beinan said, “Just recently. I haven’t been out to visit yet. Today I came by to greet the neighbors.”

“Good, good.”

Grandma Sun set down her broom and invited them in. “Don’t just stand out here—it’s cold, you’ll catch a chill. Come inside and sit.”

Hearing Grandma Sun’s invitation, Xiao Bao’s face lit up. He skipped happily ahead into the house, clearly still familiar with the path.

Not long after, a coughing fit echoed from inside the house, followed by a hoarse voice: “Is that Bao Ge’er?”

As Grandma Sun and Qi Beinan walked in, she softened and said, “That child always goes to see the old man first, just like his mother—so thoughtful.”

The room Old Fang had slept in had lost half its wall in the collapse. Fortunately, the mud and rubble hadn’t fallen on him.

That morning the wall had just been patched up, but the mud was still damp and the room cold, so they had moved him to the main hall.

Though he was only in his fifties, Old Fang looked decades older. His temples were graying, his skin sallow, eyes sunken deep into their sockets, and his frame was so thin he looked like a bundle of twigs, curled up beneath a rough, gray blanket.

The sight was truly heart-wrenching.

Xiao Bao stood quietly by the bedside, nodded his head, and looked at the increasingly gaunt man without saying a word.

When Old Fang noticed a stranger had come, his cloudy eyes gained a trace of clarity. Grandma Sun introduced Qi Beinan and explained his background.

There was little food in the house to offer a guest, so she poured the two children some hot water to drink.

Inside, the Fang house was colder than outside, like an ice cellar.

Qi Beinan took a sip to warm himself and then explained their visit. “We didn’t just come to get acquainted. I also wanted to trouble Grandma with something.”

“I brought two bolts of cloth with Xiao Bao, hoping to make him a warm new set of winter clothes. Unfortunately, I haven’t the skill. I originally planned to ask Qin Niazi once she returned, but children grow fast. His sleeves are already too short, and the weather is cold. His hands have broken out in frostbite.”

“Frostbite is common among village children, but his health is delicate. I fear he might fall ill. If we can finish his new clothes sooner, he’ll be better protected from the cold.”

“I heard Grandma’s needlework is excellent, so I thickened my face and came to ask for your help.”

Grandma Sun was surprised that the two children had come to ask her to make clothes. But instead of feeling burdened, she felt oddly relieved to be of use.

“Making clothes is no trouble at all—no need for such talk. Back when Bao Ge’er’s mother was still with us, we always did our sewing together. She made many things for my second daughter and third son. Now that she’s gone, it’s only right I help make something for Bao Ge’er in her place.”

Grandma Sun spoke from the heart. Because of the bond she once shared with Sun-shi, she was more than willing to make clothes for Xiao Bao. The only thing that held her back… was the fear that Xiao Bao’s stepmother, Qin Niazi, wouldn’t approve.

She lifted her brows. “You said you were waiting for Qin Niazi to return—where has she gone?”

Qi Beinan replied, “She took Chao Ge’er back to her parents’ home.”

“Back to her maiden home? It’s nearly Little New Year—how could she take the child and leave now?”

Grandma Sun was surprised.

Qi Beinan didn’t speak ill of Qin Niazi to others, knowing their ties were shallow. He only said, “I’m not sure either. Maybe something urgent came up on her family’s side, so she left in a hurry, even during the holiday season.”

Grandma Sun fell silent for a moment, seemingly making some guesses in her heart.

It was likely that Qin Niazi was displeased by Qi Beinan’s arrival at the Xiao household, and in a fit of anger, returned to her parents’ home at the start of the new year.

Grandma Sun couldn’t be blamed for thinking that way—she didn’t have a good impression of Qin Niazi.

Back when Sun Yuan passed away, Xiao Hu had fallen into a deep slump. Grandma Sun, worried he wouldn’t pull through, had encouraged him to stay strong for the sake of the child.

A year later, for the sake of young Xiao Bao, Xiao Hu had spent a hefty sum on a remarriage, reportedly giving the Qin family twenty full taels. Not only did the widow Qin come with a child of her own, but her bride price was even higher than that of a maiden bride.

Grandma Sun had sighed. She knew Xiao Hu had never been good at managing money—Sun-shi used to complain about it often.

If the remarried woman had been virtuous and kind, paying more wouldn’t have mattered. But as it turned out, Qin Niazi was far from good-hearted.

When she first married in, Grandma Sun had tried to be friendly. But despite the woman’s sweet smile on the surface, behind the scenes she clearly looked down on their Fang family.

One time, Grandma Sun had brought two boiled eggs for Xiao Bao. She had heard with her own ears, while standing outside the yard, Qin Niazi and Wang Chao Ge’er mocking the Fang family for being dirt poor—saying they offered worthless things in exchange for Xiao family’s fine rice and meat, calling them leeches and bloodsuckers…

Grandma Sun had turned red with embarrassment. Sure, her family was poor, but they had never come to the Xiao family looking to take advantage.

Xiao Hu spent most of his days in the mountains. With the Xiao household effectively under Qin Niazi’s control, Grandma Sun had been too ashamed to set foot in their home again.

She wouldn’t have minded the adults falling out—but Qin Niazi even forbade the children from playing together. She falsely accused the Fang family’s second and third children of stealing from Chao Ge’er.

To label children as thieves at such a young age—how could they hold up their heads after that?

People may be poor, but their pride must remain. Grandma Sun couldn’t bear seeing their reputation tarnished. She quarreled with Qin Niazi, and after that, they never spoke again.

She didn’t know whether Xiao Hu was aware of all this.

As the saying goes, “Better to tear down ten temples than ruin one marriage.” Even though she knew what kind of person Qin Niazi was, if the couple appeared to be living peacefully, how could she go to Xiao Hu and badmouth his wife?

In the end, they were the ones living under the same roof, sleeping under the same blanket. As an outsider, her words might not be believed. If it came to an argument, Qin Niazi would always come out on top.

After that, whenever Xiao Hu came by, the Fang family treated him with exaggerated courtesy. They wouldn’t accept so much as a grain of rice or strip of meat.

And they stopped letting the kids play together too.

Now, with Qin Niazi away and Qi Beinan personally bringing Xiao Bao to ask for help, Grandma Sun agreed.

She still carried guilt over Xiao Bao. A young child growing up under such a stepmother—how could he not suffer? But since Qin Niazi had a grip on their weakness, she couldn’t do anything.

“The days are cold, and folks mostly stay indoors. I can finish the clothes quickly if I hurry.”

Seeing Grandma Sun agree without refusal and without excessive modesty, Qi Beinan knew that the matter had made real progress.

If he had brought gifts today, Grandma Sun might have responded the same way she did with Xiao Hu—gracious on the surface but refusing to accept them.

After all, the Xiao family was better off than the Fang family. Offering gifts, even out of kindness, could be taken as pity or condescension. Not everyone could accept that.

But asking for help was different. It made her feel useful and respected—like she was needed.

Now that she had agreed to make clothes, the door was open. In the future, bringing small gifts wouldn’t seem out of place. Even if people knew it was an effort to support them, it would be more easily accepted.

You do me a favor, I owe you a kindness. I help you, you help me. And before long, the connection would naturally be restored.

“In that case, I truly thank you, Grandma. If you hadn’t agreed, I really wouldn’t have known what to do.”

“During winter, seamstresses at the cloth shops charge even more than usual. It would’ve cost who knows how many copper coins to get a tailor to sew a proper set of clothes.”

“You’re a practical one. Since we’ve got the skills among neighbors, why waste money like that?” Grandma Sun said, clearly pleased by Qi Beinan’s words.

She smiled and pulled Xiao Bao over.

“Bao Ge’er’s grown quite a bit. The old measurements won’t do. Grandma will take new ones for you.”

She fetched her sewing basket and began measuring Xiao Bao for size.

Xiao Bao followed happily at her side, now even more affectionate. Boldly, he asked, “Where are Fang Ge’er and Fang Jie’er?”

“They went with your Uncle to cut firewood in the mountains. They’ll carry it to the city to sell.”

Grandma Sun couldn’t help but laugh. Her second and third children were only a few years older than Xiao Bao—technically, he should’ve called them uncle and aunt. But since he saw himself as the youngest, he simply called them Ge’er and Jie’er instead.

When Qi Beinan heard that the two children he had seen earlier that morning—no more than ten years old—had gone up the mountain to chop firewood in this bitter cold, he couldn’t help but feel it was truly a hard life.

He stayed at the Fang household for a while, chatting with the bedridden Old Fang, and let Xiao Bao play for quite some time before finally taking his hand and heading home.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

By the time they returned from the county town, it was already noon.

After getting off the ox cart at the village entrance, Qi Beinan carried a heap of items and led Xiao Bao as they hurried home.

By this time, smoke was already rising from chimneys in the village houses, and they hardly ran into anyone along the way. The fields were quiet.

Xiao Hu had been home for a while after selling the game at the manor. He hadn’t seen the two boys return from either direction and had looked out from the yard seven or eight times.

Seeing that it was well past midday and they still hadn’t returned, he had just made up his mind to head into town to look for them when he heard voices outside the courtyard.

“Walk slower, careful not to fall.”

Xiao Hu immediately came out of the kitchen where the fire was burning, just in time to see Xiao Bao, each hand carrying two paper parcels, hopping his way into the courtyard.

Behind him, Qi Beinan followed, holding two rolls of fabric in his arms and a small basket strapped to his back, smiling at the little fellow running ahead.

“Father.”

Xiao Bao saw the man standing under the eaves and quickly slowed his bouncing steps, calling out softly, though the joy in his tone was unmistakable.

Seeing Xiao Bao’s bright eyes, Xiao Hu felt a rush of tenderness—he hadn’t seen the child this happy since his mother had passed.

His heart softened as he hurried forward. “Hungry?”

Xiao Bao shook his head, a bit shy but unable to hide his excitement, and began chattering nonstop.

He couldn’t help but tell Xiao Hu: “Gege bought me roasted chicken leg, candied baoluo, fried sugar threads—so many, many things! I’m not hungry at all!”

Qi Beinan chuckled. “Little glutton, you filled yourself up with snacks on the ox cart.”

Xiao Hu’s eyes also showed delight. He crouched to lift Xiao Bao into his arms and called for Qi Beinan to come inside.

He didn’t ask what the two boys had bought in town. Seeing them return safe and cheerful was enough to satisfy him.

Qi Beinan noticed that his father-in-law wasn’t interested in the purchases. As the father and son took the remaining snacks to the kitchen, he carried the rest of the items into the room, preparing to sort them out.

They had indeed bought quite a bit, and he had even specially purchased a tightly woven bamboo basket at the street entrance to carry it all.

The assorted snacks cost about thirty copper coins. The child-size toothbrush and a box of tooth powder for Xiao Bao cost another sixty—softer bristles for baby teeth drove the price up a bit.

The consultation at the clinic and the medicine came to fifty-six copper coins—not too expensive.

The largest expense was the two bolts of cloth and cotton. The fine silk bolt cost six hundred eighty copper coins.

These days silk prices weren’t high, about four hundred copper coins per jin, but a full bolt of fine silk would still cost over two strings of coins.

However, Qi Beinan had purchased a smaller cut, less than half a full bolt, and had chosen lower-grade silk, so the price stayed under one string.

The rough blue fabric cost sixty coins, and the half jin of cotton was four hundred twenty-five.

Winter garments needed cotton insulation—pricey or not, it had to be bought.

As for the fine silk, it hadn’t been strictly necessary, but Qi Beinan had bought it to make innerwear for Xiao Bao. Clothing worn close to the skin needed to be comfortable.

Xiao Bao’s delicate skin couldn’t tolerate coarse ramie fabric well.

He himself didn’t mind rougher cloth, but he couldn’t bear for Xiao Bao to be uncomfortable—he was always more willing to spend on him.

All in all, the silver tael that Xiao Hu had given him that morning was nearly spent.

Over a string of copper coins was no small sum. Back then, his father had earned a respectable salary—only two strings a month.

Though Xiao Hu was skilled in his trade, hunting in the mountains relied not only on skill but also on weather and luck.

On good trips, he might earn several or even a dozen strings of coins. In bad seasons, he might only bring in a few scraps in months.

Now, although Qi Beinan still had some savings, they wouldn’t last long if he only spent and didn’t earn. He’d have to start being more frugal.

After tidying up, he headed to the kitchen.

Xiao Hu had already washed the rice.

But he wasn’t good at cooking, so he had chopped some radish, pickled mustard greens, and sliced preserved meat, cooking them all together in one pot. The rice steamer was placed on top to steam along with it.

When finished, they’d have both rice and dish in one pot.

Qi Beinan saw Xiao Hu sitting cross-legged at the hearth, tending the fire with one hand, and holding Xiao Bao—who was eating sugar threads—beside him with the other.

They said nothing, yet it was a scene full of quiet joy.

Qi Beinan sat down nearby and casually tested the waters: “Last night the wind and rain sounded strong—I hadn’t realized it was so bad. This morning when Xiao Bao and I went into town, we passed the bamboo grove and saw that someone’s back wall had collapsed.”

Xiao Hu’s expression tightened. “Fang family’s wall collapsed!?”

“Uncle Xiao didn’t know? I heard they were going to ask the villagers to help repair it.”

“Our house is nearby. They should’ve come up here to ask.”

Qi Beinan said, “Could it be that Uncle Xiao went to the manor, and they thought no one was home?”

Xiao Hu replied, “I saw the steward, didn’t linger, and came back early.”

He’d been home long enough to chop firewood and feed the livestock, yet he hadn’t heard about the Fang family’s troubles. No one had come to notify them.

Still, he couldn’t really blame them. News didn’t travel fast these days—if no one said anything, you might not hear for a while.

Feeling uneasy, Xiao Hu stood and gently patted Xiao Bao’s back. “Father’s going to check on Grandpa Fang. Xiao Bao, if you’re hungry, eat with Gege first. Don’t wait for me.”

Xiao Bao had long since gotten used to being left at home to watch the house by Qin Niazi. When adults needed to go out, he never fussed or insisted on tagging along. He simply nodded obediently.

Qi Beinan watched Xiao Hu leave in a hurry and wondered whether his father-in-law truly knew the reason for the coldness from the Fang family.

He said nothing about it and decided to wait and see what Xiao Hu would say upon returning.

Withdrawing his gaze, he turned to look at Xiao Bao, who was sitting on the small stool by the stove, carefully folding up candy wrappers.

“Not eating anymore?”

Xiao Bao re-tied the candy wrapper packet and said to Qi Beinan, “Saving some for Chao Ge’er.”

Qi Beinan felt a warmth in his heart. He reached out to ruffle Xiao Bao’s hair. The child truly held no grudges.

Even though Chao Ge’er had scared him and told lies, he still remembered to share his snacks.

“Chao Ge’er and Qin Niazi probably won’t be back for a while.”

Xiao Bao lowered his head, giving nothing away in expression. “Mm, I know.”

Qi Beinan saw that he wasn’t throwing a fuss or asking for them, and let out a small breath of relief.

It seemed the little one wasn’t overly dependent on adults.

Some time later, the food was ready.

Qi Beinan called for Xiao Bao to bring the fire basin so he could scoop some embers from the stove into it—just enough to keep the dish from drying out while they ate.

Afterward, a bit of fire could remain in the stove to warm the portion they would set aside for Xiao Hu.

Just as he was scooping the coals, Xiao Hu unexpectedly returned.

Qi Beinan was surprised and thought he had forgotten something, but it turned out Xiao Hu had been turned away by the Fang family.

When Xiao Hu went down earlier, the village head had already gathered some of the villagers, and the Fang family’s back wall had been repaired.

When they saw him, the Fang family members acted surprised and greeted him politely, claiming they hadn’t known he had come down from the mountain.

How could they not know? The village head had sent someone up to call him. He had even gone to their house today.

Xiao Hu didn’t look pleased. He was baffled—before, whenever the Fang family had any issues, they always sought his help. Even if he was up in the mountains, Eldest Fang would come find him.

He didn’t know when it had started, but the Fang family gradually stopped coming around. Even passing by on the road, they treated him like a stranger.

He didn’t interact much with others, but even he could see that something had changed.

When Xiao Bao’s mother was still alive, the two families were close—almost like relatives. After she passed, even when he was away in the mountains, Xiao Bao stayed at the Fang household.

He had offered them money, but they had firmly refused.

Everyone in the village knew how close the two families used to be. He didn’t know how it had all come to this.

Still thinking of the kindness the Fang family once showed, Xiao Hu, unwilling to let it go, reached for the strip of cured meat hanging above the stove. “They didn’t serve a thank-you meal to the villagers who helped fix the wall. I’ll bring them some meat.”

Qi Beinan, after hearing Xiao Hu briefly explain the past relationship, was now certain the two families had once been on excellent terms.

He stopped Xiao Hu. “They avoided troubling you when fixing the wall. If you show up with a gift, they likely won’t accept it.”

Xiao Hu’s hand paused. What Qi Beinan said wasn’t wrong—it would probably be another wasted trip.

He let out a long sigh, unsure what to do next.

“Uncle Xiao, why don’t I take Xiao Bao over later? They probably won’t turn us away if it’s a child. I’ll take the chance to greet the neighbors too.”

Xiao Hu looked at him and nodded. “That works.”

“Oh, I ran into the village head earlier. He wants you to visit him.”

The village head liked scholars. He always asked after the studies of any child who read books. Still, Xiao Hu was surprised that the village head was so fond of Qi Beinan, even inviting him to his home.

“If you get the chance, go. He’s not a bad man.”

“Alright,” Qi Beinan agreed.

After the three of them finished lunch, Xiao Hu went to visit the tenant farmers who rented their land to discuss next year’s lease.

Qi Beinan warmed some water and helped Xiao Bao wash his hands, feet, and face, then applied the frostbite cream they had bought in town.

When he opened the jar, a faint bay leaf scent filled the air.

Xiao Bao, soaking his feet, leaned forward to sniff and his round eyes lit up. “It smells nice!”

Qi Beinan dabbed some on the wind-burned skin of his cheek and gently rubbed it in. “Mm. Apply it regularly and you’ll become a fragrant little treasure, and the frostbite will heal faster.”

“Mm! Xiao Bao will remember!”

Afterward, Qi Beinan had Xiao Bao take a nap.

The little one claimed he wasn’t sleepy, but he had spent half the morning outside and was already tired. Children needed more rest to begin with, and now that his feet were warm and cozy, he was soon fast asleep under the covers.

Qi Beinan lowered the bed curtain and returned to his room. He opened his trunk, took out ink and brush, and began to write for a while.

He was a scholar after all—these habits were ingrained and couldn’t be shaken.

The new year was just days away. He planned to buy some red paper, write a few spring couplets, and paste them up to bring festive cheer to the house.

If the weather was good, he could even set up a stall in town offering to write couplets. He might earn a few copper coins that way.

Xiao Bao slept for nearly an hour. When he woke, still bleary-eyed, he sat on the bed for a while in a daze.

Sliding off the bed, he trotted off to find Qi Beinan.

Seeing that the little one had woken up, Qi Beinan packed up the bolt of blue rough linen cloth they had bought that day and took Xiao Bao with him to the Fang household.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

At year’s end, the county town was decked with lanterns and streamers, bustling with far more shoppers than usual.

From every alley and street corner came the sound of firecrackers being set off.

Hearing the sharp pops, Qi Beinan felt a moment of daze. His body still subconsciously reacted, his chest tightening in discomfort—yet the warmth from the small hand in his own pulled him back from old memories.

He lowered his gaze. Xiao Yuanbao was looking all around with wide, shining eyes, full of wonder—everything was curious, everything was new.

But seeing the sea of unfamiliar faces and bustling crowd, he seemed uneasy about getting lost and clung tightly to Qi Beinan’s hand, staying close.

Qi Beinan smiled and bent down to scoop him up.

It wasn’t easy for a little one to make it to town—he shouldn’t spend the whole visit just staring at grown-ups’ legs and shoulders.

Carrying him, Qi Beinan strolled slowly, pointing to the shops lining the alleys, explaining one by one what each place sold.

“That one on the other side is a porcelain shop. They sell bowls, jars, vases… very pretty but expensive. Usually we buy bowls and jars from the street stalls.”

“And that one up ahead with the long signboard is the salt shop—sells that salty stuff we sprinkle into soup at home.”

“I know! Qin Niazi puts it in a round clay jar—it looks like frosty sugar!”

Xiao Yuanbao chirped proudly.

“Mhm, that’s right. Our Xiao Bao is really clever.”

Xiao Yuanbao flushed slightly with shyness at the praise, but his heart bloomed with joy.

They continued along the road. Qi Beinan bought him a juicy roasted chicken leg from a street-side vendor, then they went into a pastry shop and picked out two kinds of treats—one a spiral-shaped candied treat, the other golden sugar crisps.

They didn’t taste amazing, but their whimsical shapes and colors were eye-catching—just the kind to captivate a child. Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes were immediately drawn to them.

Later, they stopped by a cloth shop and purchased two bolts of fabric—one light yellow with cloud patterns, the other a coarse cloud-blue—and a half-pound of cotton.

By then their arms were full. Qi Beinan spent two copper coins to store the purchases in a shop so they could continue walking unburdened.

But all of that—the food, the cloth—were secondary. The most important reason Qi Beinan had come to town was to take Xiao Yuanbao to the clinic.

Even back when they married, Xiao Yuanbao’s health had been visibly fragile. With every seasonal change, every wind or rain, he’d fall ill with chills.

At the time, the physician had said it wasn’t a serious condition—just chronic weakness from years of hardship. It was common among farming households; strong bodies were rare, early deaths plenty.

Qi Beinan had been pained by how hard life had been for his husband. He did everything he could to improve their diet and nourish Xiao Yuanbao’s body.

During the years he served as an official in Linzhou, their life together had been harmonious, and Xiao Yuanbao’s health had slowly improved.

But after Xiao Hu’s accident and death, Xiao Yuanbao was devastated. He fell seriously ill, and from that point onward, his health began to deteriorate again.

A year later, Qi Beinan was promoted and transferred to the capital. From then on, Xiao Yuanbao’s condition worsened steadily.

Physicians came and went, all saying the same thing—his heart was burdened, his thoughts too heavy.

Qi Beinan had assumed it was grief over losing his father, combined with their years of marriage without children—pressures that had weighed too much on Xiao Yuanbao’s gentle heart.

He often comforted him, saying having children was a blessing, but not a necessity. All he ever wanted was for the two of them to spend their lives together.

But years later, only after they had separated, did Qi Beinan come to fully understand: the burdens weren’t just from grief or childlessness.

Marriage, after all, was expected to match in status. In the beginning, the Xiao and Qi families had been relatively equal.

But after Qi Beinan rose through the ranks, his household’s status grew higher and higher.

Xiao Yuanbao, from a humble farming family, uneducated and unable to read, had fallen further and further behind.

In Linzhou, Qi Beinan had been a low-ranking official, and most of the spouses of his peers had modest backgrounds. Though Xiao Yuanbao was still often looked down upon, he could at least keep up.

But in the capital, surrounded by nobles and powerful families, the gap was too wide. Even being “just a little lower” in status wasn’t enough anymore.

The more Qi Beinan flourished in court, the more Xiao Yuanbao became the target of ridicule.

They mocked him for being illiterate, for being talentless, and questioned why Qi Beinan treasured someone so beneath him.

Faced with that kind of contempt, how could daily life possibly be joyful?

Worse still, Xiao Yuanbao hadn’t just suffered physically in his childhood—he had been emotionally and mentally worn down by Qin Niazi.

In those years that shaped a person’s very nature, he lived under constant belittling. She mocked him for being useless, incapable.

Never praised, never loved, it was no wonder he grew into someone sensitive, self-doubting, and timid.

Even after escaping Qin Niazi’s shadow, his temperament had been formed.

After their marriage, when the mocking voices returned, Xiao Yuanbao had no way to defend himself. He truly believed he was worthless, a burden to Qi Beinan, someone who cost him face and standing. That guilt ate away at him until it became illness.

Qi Beinan had been young and ambitious then, consumed with his path in the bureaucracy, convinced that rising high would bring Xiao Yuanbao a better life.

But he wasn’t flawless. He had no way of foreseeing the subtle cruelties of high-society life, or just how difficult it would be for Xiao Yuanbao to survive in it.

After years of maneuvering through officialdom, Qi Beinan had seen far too much. Only then did he come to understand these truths—unfortunately, far too late.

But now, everything was still in its early stages, and he could not afford to repeat old mistakes.

Still, temperament and insight born of family upbringing weren’t things that could be changed overnight. Xiao Yuanbao was still young—now that Qi Beinan was by his side, time was on their side.

For now, nothing was more important than building a strong and healthy body.

Qi Beinan spent three copper coins to find a street runner in the busy part of town and asked where he could find the best clinic.

The runner, a boy of about twelve or thirteen with a black mole on his nose, was easy to talk to once paid, and even personally led them there.

“For children’s illnesses. Just a few days back, the county magistrate’s young son fell ill. They brought in several doctors who couldn’t cure him—only this clinic’s Dr. Yang managed it. The magistrate was so pleased, he even had his own carriage take Dr. Yang back.”

“There, that’s the place. Dr. Yang isn’t out visiting today—he’s in the clinic.”

Qi Beinan looked up at the signboard. It was indeed correct.

But the clinic was tucked away in a quiet alley, not along the main market streets—if he weren’t familiar with the county, he wouldn’t have found it.

He thanked the boy, who said if they ever needed another errand run, they could find him in the same busy square. Despite his young age, he was born and raised in the county and knew everything.

Qi Beinan promised he would.

He led Xiao Yuanbao into the clinic. Despite the secluded location, there was a steady flow of people—clearly a place with a good reputation.

“Here to buy medicine or see the doctor?” asked a young girl at the counter. She had a round face, wore twin buns, and was wrapping up herbs while speaking in a practiced manner.

She looked no more than six or seven, about the same age as Xiao Yuanbao.

“We’re here to see Dr. Yang,” Qi Beinan replied. “We’d like a consultation.”

“Dr. Yang is seeing patients right now. Please wait a bit.”

Noticing how small Xiao Yuanbao was and how tightly he clung to Qi Beinan, she added, “There are benches over there. I’ll call you when it’s your turn.”

“Thank you.”

Qi Beinan lifted Xiao Yuanbao onto a tall wooden bench. The child’s legs didn’t even reach the floor.

“Tired?”

He adjusted the boy’s round deerskin cap and wiped his mouth, which was still stained from the roast chicken leg earlier.

The scent of medicinal herbs made Xiao Yuanbao nervous. He tugged at Qi Beinan’s sleeve and whispered, “Why are we here?”

“You’ve got chilblains. We’ll ask the doctor to take a look so we can get you some ointment.”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together and didn’t answer, still clearly uneasy.

Just then, a woman exited the consultation room with a crying child in her arms. The little one sobbed bitterly.

“We don’t need to see the doctor anymore,” Xiao Yuanbao whispered, trying to slide down from the bench, scared.

“Xiao Bao~”

Qi Beinan hurried to catch him, afraid he’d fall. But Xiao Yuanbao mistook the movement for restraint, pouted, and his eyes filled with tears.

Before Qi Beinan could think of how to calm him down, a clear, gentle voice piped up from behind.

“He’s only crying because he’s feeling unwell.”

The young herb girl had come over again. Holding a large steaming cup with both hands, she offered it to Xiao Yuanbao.

“Warm ginger tea—it’ll warm you up.”

Xiao Yuanbao peeked at her from behind Qi Beinan’s chest. She was barely taller than the counter, not much older than him.

He instinctively shrank away from strangers, but something about her made him glance over curiously—and he saw a small stool behind the counter, just like the one he used at home.

He blinked. This little herb girl also used a stool to reach higher places!

Qi Beinan, seeing the boy still clinging to him, accepted the tea on his behalf and thanked the girl.

Xiao Yuanbao calmed down and quietly climbed back onto the bench. Qi Beinan blew on the tea and fed him a few sips.

The ginger tea was a bit spicy but sweet. He had eaten a salty chicken leg earlier, so he was thirsty—he ended up drinking two large sips. The warm liquid flowed into his belly like a gentle current.

The little herb girl stood beside them, chatting again as soon as she saw he finished: “Dr. Yang is really kind. He’s not scary at all. The kids aren’t afraid of him.”

Xiao Yuanbao still looked unsure but nodded slowly and didn’t try to run again.

Qi Beinan let out a breath of relief.

The little girl peeked into the consultation room and waved to them: “You can go in now.”

Inside sat a bearded doctor in his fifties. Perhaps because he specialized in pediatrics, he had a particularly kind and gentle demeanor.

Seeing two children walk in, his tone was even more soothing. “Come sit with Grandpa. Where does it hurt?”

Xiao Yuanbao, seeing the doctor wasn’t scary—more like Grandpa Fang—relaxed and sat obediently on the stool.

“This younger one has a weak constitution and catches cold easily,” Qi Beinan explained briefly. “We’d like the doctor to check his pulse and see if there’s any underlying issue.”

The doctor nodded and took Xiao Yuanbao’s wrist.

The child’s pale little arm was thin and frail, almost no flesh to it.

The doctor examined him and said, “He is indeed a little frail.”

Then, smiling kindly, he gently coaxed Xiao Yuanbao, “Grandpa will take a look at you, Xiao Bao’er—don’t be afraid.”

Qi Beinan stood quietly, awaiting the verdict, closely observing the doctor’s expression as he checked the pulse. His heart was full of unease, afraid that even at such a young age, Xiao Yuanbao’s body would already be as weak as in the past.

“Qi deficiency, cold constitution.”

The doctor finished feeling the pulse and examined Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes and mouth. He slowly said, “There’s no major illness. But children are delicate, not as resilient as adults, so they require more attentive care. In this cold weather, he must stay warm and not indulge in cold food or exposure. Repeated cold invasions can leave lasting problems.”

He looked over the two boys—though not rich, they didn’t seem to be so poor they couldn’t afford meals—so he added, “It’s best to enrich the child’s diet a bit. A stronger body will naturally resist wind-cold illnesses more easily. He’s still young, so with proper care, his health can improve quickly.”

Qi Beinan felt a heavy weight lift from his chest and quickly said, “Yes, we’ll certainly follow your advice.”

The doctor prescribed some herbs to treat cold and qi deficiency, and also gave them two small round porcelain jars of ointment for chilblains.

Qi Beinan went to the front hall to fill the prescription. Since the child was young, the dosage wasn’t large—just one package of herbs.

But the two ointment jars were hefty in his hands.

Xiao Yuanbao clung close to Qi Beinan as he got the medicine, his wide round eyes scanning the entire shop.

Dr. Yang really wasn’t scary at all—seeing a doctor wasn’t so frightening after all.

Xiao Yuanbao wanted to tell the little medicine girl from before, but she was nowhere to be seen.

He squeezed the bag of snacks Qi Beinan had bought for him, suddenly looking a little down.

Qi Beinan, having finished picking up the medicine, looked down and noticed the small one was silent.

He crouched down in front of him, facing the little fellow who was pursing his lips and drooping his eyes, and said gently, “That little medicine girl gave you warm ginger tea and told you Dr. Yang wasn’t scary. But our Xiao Bao hasn’t said thank you to her yet.”

“Mm.”

Xiao Yuanbao wanted to say it, but it had been so long since he had any playmates. He was shy by nature—though he knew what he should do, he just didn’t know how to say it aloud.

Now that Qi Beinan reminded him, he quickly acknowledged his mistake.

“Then, shall we give her something to thank her?”

At this, Xiao Yuanbao immediately whispered, “Snacks.”

Qi Beinan asked, “Then will you give her the preserved fruit or the sugar threads?”

“I don’t know which one big sister likes.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked at the two bags of treats with distress—he liked both, and couldn’t decide which would be best to give.

Qi Beinan asked the pharmacist for a clean piece of paper used to wrap medicine and handed it to Xiao Yuanbao. “Then take a bit of both.”

“Okay!”

Xiao Yuanbao cheerfully took the paper.

He carefully unwrapped both snack packages and picked out the prettiest preserved spirals and the most intact sugar threads, wrapping them up nicely.

When the two of them left the clinic, that small packet of treats was neatly placed on the little square stool beside the counter.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Xiao Hu cooked some porridge, then carried a bundle of firewood in from under the eaves. When he heard crying coming from inside the room, he immediately dropped the wood and rushed over to check.

Pushing the door open, he saw Xiao Yuanbao sitting in Qi Beinan’s lap, sniffling and hiccupping as he obediently held out his arms to put on his clothes.

“You’ve got chilblains on your feet too? Before bed, you have to soak your feet in hot water—especially during the twelfth month.”

Qi Beinan had already warmed the socks several times over the brazier. He picked them up and gently put them on Xiao Yuanbao’s little feet.

While doing so, he lightly pinched the swollen, rounded toes. “Does it hurt?”

“Mm.”

Xiao Yuanbao lowered his head to look at his toes. He counted them. There had only been three toes with chilblains before, but now two more had appeared.

“It itches and it hurts.”

“No big deal. Bro… I’ll take you to town to buy chilblain balm. Rub it on for three to five days and you’ll be all better.”

Seeing this, Xiao Hu quietly stepped out again.

“I can go to town?!”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up as he raised his head to look at Qi Beinan. “I really get to go to town too?”

“Of course. It’s almost New Year—town is lively this time of year, and you can even buy firecrackers.”

Now that he had confirmation, Xiao Yuanbao looked at Qi Beinan with bright, joyful eyes.

Qi Beinan smiled. “The pastries I bought you yesterday—were they tasty? Should I buy more?”

But Xiao Yuanbao shook his head.

“Qin Niazi said not to eat them after the spicy pickled rabbit, said to save them for later. So I don’t know if they’re tasty.”

Then, in a quieter voice, he added, “But Chao Ge’er said they were.”

Qi Beinan’s gaze darkened slightly—what a woman.

He didn’t speak badly of adults in front of children. He simply said, “Alright, when we go to town, I’ll buy you more. I’ll buy lots.”

Xiao Yuanbao shyly nodded.

Just the idea of going to town had him bouncing around all morning, unable to hide his happiness.

Every time Qin Niazi went to town, she used the excuse that he was too young and could get lost, leaving him at home to watch the house while taking only Chao Ge’er to play. Every time they came back, Chao Ge’er would boast about how fun and lively the town was, how good the food smelled. As a child who naturally loved excitement, hearing these stories only made him yearn more.

But Qin Niazi wouldn’t take him, and Xiao Hu was always too busy to spare the time. Xiao Yuanbao didn’t dare throw tantrums like other kids. He could only bury that hope deep in his heart.

Now that Qi Beinan said he’d take him, the seed had finally sprouted—and he became even more attached to him.

That morning, he followed Qi Beinan around from a short distance, watching him wash his face and hands, then pull out a small brush with stiff bristles.

Xiao Yuanbao crouched at the doorway, eyes wide with curiosity.

He saw Qi Beinan dip the brush in water, then into a long, rectangular wooden box, and it came out dusted with fine powder.

But instead of brushing his hands or feet, Qi Beinan put the brush into his mouth and started brushing side to side.

The light-yellow powder coated his teeth, and after gargling a couple of times without swallowing, he spat it into a clay jar.

“Come over here.”

Qi Beinan wiped his mouth with a cloth and beckoned to Xiao Yuanbao.

The little one slowly walked over, eyes still glued to the dental tools.

“This is a toothbrush, and this is tooth powder.”

Qi Beinan pulled out the brush and opened the container to show Xiao Yuanbao up close.

“It smells nice.”

Xiao Yuanbao leaned in and sniffed. It smelled like a mix of herbs and fragrance.

Even when Qi Beinan spoke, his breath carried that clean, fresh scent.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes lit up. These were all things he had never seen at home.

Qi Beinan nodded and explained patiently, “This tooth powder is made of fine salt and herbs. There are many kinds, with all different flavors.”

“If you brush your teeth and rinse your mouth, it’ll get rid of bad smells and protect your white teeth.”

“Open your mouth. Let me see if all your teeth have come in.”

Xiao Yuanbao obediently opened his mouth wide.

At five years old, his baby teeth had all come in—about twenty in total. They were small but neat and white.

“Mm, no cavities.”

Qi Beinan gave an approving nod, but added, “You have to take care of them. If your teeth go bad, you won’t be able to eat properly. I once knew someone who didn’t take care of their teeth, and when they got older, they were in pain all the time and couldn’t even sleep.”

Xiao Yuanbao clamped his mouth shut in fear. “Then what happened to them?”

“They had to see a doctor and take lots of bitter medicine.”

Qi Beinan thought back to how, in his past life, Xiao Yuanbao had toothaches so bad he couldn’t eat. Once his whole face had swollen up.

“When we go to town, I’ll buy you some tooth powder too. Let’s learn to brush morning and night, alright?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded quickly. “Okay! I don’t want toothaches!”

His new teeth had been sore once, and even that had scared him.

Qi Beinan felt that this child was truly obedient. He closed the tooth powder box, wrung out a cloth, and gently wiped Xiao Yuanbao’s wind-chapped cheeks and frostbitten hands.

For breakfast, they had porridge made by Xiao Hu. He had originally planned to make noodles and mix them with last night’s leftover spicy pickled rabbit meat.

There wasn’t much rabbit meat left, but there was still some broth and meat bits. In farming households, it’s common to use leftover stewed or braised dishes from the previous meal to make noodles—oily, savory, and flavorful.

Unfortunately, Xiao Hu didn’t know how to knead dough, so he just made a simple pot of porridge.

After the three of them finished breakfast, Xiao Hu had to go process the game he brought back from the mountains and couldn’t spare time to take the two children to town.

The manor steward had given word before Xiao Hu went up the mountain, asking that if he had any good catches, he should send them over.

It was the end of the year, and the manor needed to offer good items to the master household. Caged chickens and sheep didn’t please the lords as much as wild game did.

Since the manor workers couldn’t hunt, they relied on village hunters to help send some in.

Xiao Hu didn’t mind—this way, he could save himself a trip to town.

“Take Xiao Bao into town for a proper outing. It’s the New Year—if you see something he likes, buy it for him.”

Xiao Hu handed over a piece of silver to Qi Beinan—nearly two taels.

He was at ease letting Qi Beinan take Xiao Bao into town. Though Qi Beinan was only ten years old, he looked tall, knew how to conduct himself, and carried himself with the steadiness of a thirteen- or fourteen-year-old.

Moreover, he’d lived in Qiu County for five years and was probably more familiar with town life than many villagers.

Qi Beinan immediately tried to return the silver.

With no one else around, he said frankly, “Uncle Xiao, before coming here I already sold off the family property in Qiu County and have some silver on hand. You don’t need to trouble yourself.”

The Qi family wasn’t wealthy, but his father had been a licentiate and earned a government stipend of 280 copper coins per month, plus ten catties of polished rice and ten catties of pork. He also taught at a private school, bringing in another two strings of coins monthly.

Students would occasionally bring gifts of rice, flour, oil, or cloth. Their days weren’t bad.

Over the years, they’d saved up more than ten taels. On top of that, Qi Beinan had sold off their small courtyard in Qiu County, earning fifty taels of silver.

Had he not sold it in a rush and lowered the price, he could have gotten four or five taels more.

He already felt awkward about coming to rely on the Xiao family, and he certainly didn’t want to take Xiao Hu’s money.

That was exactly what Qin Niazi resented most.

But Xiao Hu said, “Even if you have some silver, that’s yours. It doesn’t stop me from giving you some.”

“Take it—going forward, we’re one household. Don’t stand on ceremony.”

Qi Beinan tried twice to refuse but couldn’t. Thinking it would be better for the money to go to Xiao Yuanbao than to end up in Qin Niazi’s hands, he finally accepted it.

After the meal, Xiao Yuanbao put on a small deerskin cap and the rough cotton winter coat from the day before. Qi Beinan took his hand and led him out the door.

That fine little hat had been made by Yuan Shi herself while she was still alive, using fur and hide Xiao Hu had stored. The outside was deerskin, and the lining was soft rabbit fur—cozy and warm.

Xiao Yuanbao treasured it, rarely wearing it even when cold.

Luckily, the hat was small. Wang Chao’s head was too big to fit, or it would’ve long since ended up locked away in his chest.

“Can you walk? I’ll carry you if you get tired. Once we reach the village entrance, we can take the ox cart.”

Qi Beinan held Xiao Yuanbao’s soft little hand. Although it hadn’t rained, morning frost had melted into the mud, making the road slippery.

“I can walk!”

Xiao Yuanbao let go of his hand and took big strides to prove he wasn’t afraid of walking.

Unfortunately, his thick cotton pants sagged and weren’t as agile as his summer ones. He took a big step, but the drag of the pants made him stumble.

Qi Beinan caught him quickly. Seeing him waddle like a chubby little short-legged duck that had eaten too much, he couldn’t help but laugh, then simply carried him on his back.

Xiao Yuanbao’s face turned slightly red on Qi Beinan’s back. He said nothing more.

But deep down, he thought this Brother Qi was even nicer than Chao Ge’er had been when he first arrived.

“Why are there so many people up ahead?”

Hearing Qi Beinan’s question, Xiao Yuanbao raised his head.

“That’s Grandpa Fang and Grandma Sun’s house.”

The Xiao family home was near the foot of the mountain, a standalone house without nearby neighbors.

Walking down a narrow path, then around a patch of bamboo, they would reach another home.

Just as Qi Beinan entered the bamboo grove, he saw three or four people gathered near its end, talking with worried expressions.

As they approached, he heard an old woman crying.

“Thank heavens your father’s lucky. The wall came down but didn’t crush him. He’s already not well—if it hit him, how would I go on living~”

“It’s okay, mother. Father has good fortune. What matters now is getting the wall fixed. It’s freezing—how can we live in a house that lets in the wind?”

“Right! We need to find someone to help patch it.”

“But even if the neighbors help and don’t take our money, we still have to offer them a good meal. We’ve got some leftover rice from autumn harvest, but there’s no meat or oil. How can we host anyone without a proper dish?”

The old woman wiped her tears and looked at her twenty-something son. Two ten-year-old children stood beside her, both with drooping faces.

The young man said, “Mother, I think I saw Brother Xiao come down from the mountain. Maybe we could borrow…”

“No, no!”

The old woman cut him off immediately. “Son, don’t. Everyone’s having a hard time. He’s out there risking his life in the mountains—how could we burden them?”

“Then… then let’s go ask Hunter Xiao to lend a hand.”

“We’re not troubling the Xiao family. We’re not troubling anyone.”

The old woman repeated herself twice, tugging at the young man’s arm. “Better… better to go find the village head instead.”

The young man sighed heavily with his hands on his hips, then turned and went back into the house.

Qi Beinan’s brows furrowed slightly. Though no one had gossiped outright, something in the words didn’t sit right.

It seemed there was some estrangement between the Xiao and Fang families.

He asked Xiao Yuanbao, who was on his back, “Do Grandpa Fang and Grandma Sun still come to your house often?”

Xiao Yuanbao replied, “Grandpa Fang is sick and can’t get out of bed. But Grandma Sun used to come a lot. She even brought roasted taro for me to eat!”

“Used to? She doesn’t come anymore?”

“Mm… It’s been a long time since she came.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked a little sad as he said, “Qin Niazi said Grandma Sun’s roasted taro wasn’t tasty, and that I didn’t like it. So Grandma Sun stopped coming. But I actually liked it.”

“Before Qin Niazi and Chao Ge’er came to live with us, when father went up the mountain, I used to stay at Grandma Sun’s place.”

“Grandma Sun would sew clothes for me. Big Brother Fang used to catch little crabs for me. Second Sister Fang and Third Fang Ge’er would always play with me.”

Qi Beinan asked, “Then now Second Sister Fang and Third Fang Ge’er don’t come to play with you anymore?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded. “Qin Niazi doesn’t let me go find them. She said Second Sister Fang and Third Fang Ge’er stole her copper coins and even ate Chao Ge’er’s pastries. She says they’re sneaky little kids, and if I play with them, I’ll learn bad things.”

Qi Beinan was silent for a moment, beginning to understand why the Qin family had so few connections with the neighbors.

Back when he and Xiao Yuanbao got married, they’d hosted a banquet in the village. Normally, villagers would attend any wedding or funeral. But that time, barely anyone came.

Later, it was the village head who discreetly urged folks to show up—mostly for the sake of Qi Beinan’s official title—just enough to keep up appearances.

Back then, Qi Beinan hadn’t understood. He figured maybe his father-in-law, always roaming the mountains and forests, simply didn’t have deep ties with the villagers.

Now it seemed the Xiao family lacked close neighbors and friends likely thanks in large part to Qin Niazi.

Qi Beinan thought to himself, living in a place long-term, it wasn’t wise to be too isolated. As the saying goes, “One tree doesn’t make a forest.” It’s always better to have some friendly ties with others.

If life went smoothly with never a problem, then going it alone might be fine. But once something happened—or if something needed doing—you’d need people around.

In the past, after he and Xiao Yuanbao married and moved to the provincial post, Qi Beinan hadn’t thought much about the relationships left behind.

Now that he planned to stay here long-term, he couldn’t afford to be careless about it anymore. He needed to find ways to build back ties with the villagers.

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