Author Archives: Thingyan

That night, Qin Niazi took Wang Chao to sleep in the side room out of spite and didn’t return to the main room for the rest of the night.

Xiao Hu wasn’t in a great mood either. He figured they both needed to cool off, lest anger make things worse, so he didn’t go to coax her.

The next morning, when Qi Beinan stepped out of his room, he shivered from the cold.

Unlike the tightly packed buildings of the county town, village homes out in the wilderness were surrounded by mountains and dense vegetation—winter mornings here were noticeably colder.

He wrapped his cotton-lined blue coat tighter around himself and stepped into the main hall, where he saw Xiao Hu already up and standing at the gate, staring silently out into the courtyard.

Qi Beinan followed his gaze and saw several rows of footprints on the thin layer of morning frost.

The sky had barely begun to brighten—Qin Niazi had quietly packed up and actually left with Wang Chao to return to her mother’s home!

Noticing the mud on Xiao Hu’s shoes, Qi Beinan guessed he must’ve gone out to look for them but hadn’t caught up.

“Uncle Xiao… Aunt and Chao Ge’er, are they—?”

“They went back to her family.”

Xiao Hu’s voice was cold. Quarrels between husband and wife were one thing, but he hadn’t expected Qin Niazi to actually up and leave with Wang Chao right before the New Year.

Qi Beinan, on the other hand, felt like laughing.

To drive him away, Qin Niazi even pulled this stunt. She was clearly trying to keep him from getting close to Xiao Hu and Xiao Bao—making room on purpose.

Trying to use this “returning to her mother’s house” trick to scare them into backing down, pretending like the Xiao family couldn’t do without her. What a pathetic move.

He had thought she was clever—turns out she wasn’t much after all.

Since she had so generously handed over the opportunity, Qi Beinan naturally accepted it with grace.

He feigned panic and worry, quickly saying, “It’s my fault, upsetting Aunt like this. Uncle, please go bring her back!”

“It’s freezing outside, and it’s not easy to travel with a child. If it were just an adult, it wouldn’t matter, but Chao Ge’er is still young—what if he catches a cold?”

“And Xiao Bao hasn’t woken up yet. If he doesn’t see Aunt when he does, he might get upset and cry.”

Hearing such well-intentioned words, Xiao Hu’s face darkened further.

If yesterday his mood was only sour due to guilt, today he was genuinely angry.

He’d always believed Qin Niazi truly loved the child and treated Xiao Bao as her own.

But now, in a moment of conflict, she’d up and left—was that what a loving mother would do?

If she really cared for the child, as Qi Beinan said, she wouldn’t have just left him behind like that.

Xiao Hu might not be good at expressing affection or knowing how to be close with his child, but that didn’t mean he didn’t love him. In fact, Xiao Bao was his dearest.

Back when Qin Niazi first came into the household, he had been worried she might be burdened by farmwork and wouldn’t have the time to care for the child properly. So he’d leased out most of the fields, keeping only a small patch for homegrown vegetables.

He gave her all the lease income and most of the money from his hunting as well, doing everything he could to make sure she wasn’t lacking in money—just so she could take good care of the child.

Aside from caring for the boy, he never expected her to do any labor.

He had always believed he was lucky to have married Qin Niazi—her cooking was good, and she seemed affectionate toward the child. He’d felt reassured leaving Xiao Bao in her care while he spent his days in the mountains.

But now, after this quarrel, he realized it hadn’t been all it seemed.

“If she’s not afraid to leave the child and head back, let her go!”

“If I bring her back now, she’ll just leave again whenever something goes wrong.”

He had originally considered going to fetch them back, but now he had no intention of doing so.

Qi Beinan saw this and realized his father-in-law wasn’t completely blind—he just needed a little push to see things clearly.

“This is… perhaps…” Before he could finish, Xiao Hu cut him off:

“Don’t overthink it. I’m still the head of this household.”

That was exactly what Qi Beinan wanted. He offered a few more comforting words without fanning the flames, then said, “I’ll go check on Xiao Bao.”

“Don’t worry, Uncle. While Aunt’s away, I’ll take good care of him.”

Xiao Hu looked toward Xiao Bao’s room, his eyes full of concern.

Poor child, losing his birth mother so young, left to struggle with a father who didn’t know how to care for him—and now saddled with an unreliable stepmother.

He looked back at the respectful and gentle Qi Beinan, and felt even more sympathy.

He reached out and gave Qi Beinan’s shoulder a firm squeeze. “You lost your mother young… I don’t know how your father managed to raise you all by himself.”

“I was a boy—easy to raise. Even if life was rough, it didn’t matter much. But it’s different for little gers, they need more care. No matter how easy or hard it is, children who lose their mothers always place a heavy burden on their fathers.”

Xiao Hu nodded, comforted. “You’re a good kid. Xiao Bao is shy—get close to him, spend time together.”

Meanwhile, Qin Niazi and Wang Chao, both with cloth wrapped around their heads, were bumping along the road to the county town in an ox cart, nearly at the city gates.

Wang Chao huddled into Qin Niazi’s arms, sniffling. Half his face was hidden by the cloth, but it couldn’t block the biting wind.

Children don’t hold up well in the cold—and ever since arriving at the Xiao household, Wang Chao had been spoiled beyond reason.

On ordinary days when Xiao Hu wasn’t home, Wang Chao wouldn’t wake until the sun was high. Now that it was winter, and colder than ever, Qin Niazi usually doted on him so much that she even brought breakfast to his bedside for him to eat while lying under the quilt.

But today, before dawn, she dressed him in layers and dragged him out, without even letting him eat. All they’d done since was shiver in the cold wind along the main road.

Grumbling with displeasure, he asked, “Mother, where are we even going? Why’d we leave so early?”

Qin Niazi tucked the thick cotton blanket around him more snugly and then pulled out the pastries Qi Beinan had bought. She shoved one piece into Wang Chao’s mouth and placed the rest into his hands. “Eat some cake if you’re hungry.”

Wang Chao was naturally happy with the food. But seeing his mother had packed two large bundles, it didn’t seem like they were heading into town for market day. So he asked again, “Mother, where are we really going?”

“To your grandparents’ house.”

The moment Wang Chao heard they were going to his maternal grandparents’, his brows furrowed in a tight knot. “What’re we going there for? It’s almost New Year!”

Every time they’d visited in the past, he’d gotten the cold shoulder. The old folks only gave good food to his cousin. Though their attitude had softened since Qin Niazi married into the Xiao family and they now shared food with him, he still remembered the grudge. He just didn’t want to go.

“Mother, if you’re mad at stepfather, then just don’t talk to him. Why are we freezing ourselves like this?”

Qin Niazi let out a cold snort. “Mad? Do you even know why I’m mad? That Xiao Bao’s real father wants to let that Qi boy live in our house. You think life will still be easy for you after that? He gets a room, he gets the money!”

“If your mother doesn’t stand her ground now, soon we won’t even have a say in our own house.”

Wang Chao still didn’t fully understand, but he was beginning to sense that letting Qi Beinan live with them wasn’t a good thing.

“But if we leave, won’t they be even happier?”

“Hmph, happy? Let them try. Your stepfather only brought us into the house for someone to help take care of Xiao Bao. Now that I’m gone, let’s see who cooks for them, who looks after that brat. They can stare at empty bowls all day for all I care.”

Wang Chao asked, “Will stepfather send Xiao Bao to that Fang family in the bamboo grove again?”

“That bunch of paupers? I already made sure the Xiaos stopped associating with them. Even if your stepfather wanted to send him there, he couldn’t.”

Qin Niazi smirked with satisfaction. “Just wait a couple of days. Your stepfather’ll come crawling with wine and meat, begging us to come back. And if he insists on keeping that boy? I won’t go back at all!”

She reached out to pat the bundle beside her. It held not only their change of clothes but also the meat she’d bought in town yesterday.

That mountain hunter dares to side with an outsider? Let’s see how long he lasts. She’d see to it that the whole village knew he’d rather keep a live-in son-in-law than his own wife—let them judge for themselves who was right and who was wrong.

…

Qi Beinan cracked open the door and quickly slipped into Xiao Yuanbao’s room, holding the brazier tightly in his arms to keep the cold wind out.

The room was small—one glance and you could take in everything.

Against the wall was a wooden bed draped in coarse yellow hemp cloth. The curtain fluttered at the seams from the cold air.

He called out softly, “Xiao Bao, are you awake?”

Xiao Yuanbao had been up for a while already and was just about to get dressed. When he heard the door creak open, he thought it was his father. But when he peeked out and saw Qi Beinan, he immediately pulled his head back in.

He hesitated, unsure whether to respond, when the curtain lifted and Qi Beinan stuck his head in. “You’re awake. Let me help you get dressed.”

Startled, Xiao Yuanbao darted straight back under the covers. A lump formed beneath the quilt, and a muffled voice came out: “Don’t want you.”

Qi Beinan heard that the tone wasn’t as fierce as last night, so he didn’t push it. He quietly set the brazier on the footstool beside the bed and sat down.

Just as he was about to look for the boy’s clothes, he saw two neatly folded bundles at the end of the bed. He picked them up and spread them over his knees to warm them.

“Qin Niazi took Chao Ge’er out,” he said, pausing before adding, “so… only bro- … I can help you get dressed.”

He almost said “brother” but remembered Xiao Yuanbao had already said he didn’t want another older brother, so he stopped himself.

“I’ll warm your clothes up. You can lie down a bit longer if you like.”

Hidden under the covers, Xiao Yuanbao heard that Qin Niazi had gone out again with Chao Ge’er and grew curious. They’d just gone to town yesterday—surely not again?

Not sure if Qi Beinan was trying to trick him, he whispered, “Where did they go?”

Qi Beinan smiled and tilted his head. “I’ll tell you—but you can’t cry.”

Xiao Yuanbao poked his head out. After crying himself to sleep last night, his round eyes were still puffy and red.

“I won’t cry. Even if Qin Niazi takes Chao Ge’er to town, I won’t cry.”

Qi Beinan raised a brow. “Really? What if they’re going to visit her family and won’t be back for a few days—still no tears?”

Xiao Yuanbao froze.

He didn’t answer right away, but instead asked first, “Where’s Father?”

Qi Beinan replied, “He’s home, of course. It’s almost New Year—he’s not going up the mountain.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought about it for a moment, then nodded.

“That’s great!”

Qi Beinan smiled warmly. “Xiao Bao, you really are the most sensible child I’ve ever met.”

Hearing Qi Beinan praise him, Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes dropped shyly and he pursed his lips. He was a little embarrassed—but children love praise, so after a moment, he slowly crawled out of the quilt. “I can put my clothes on myself.”

Qi Beinan assumed he was just trying to act tough and independent, so he handed over the clothes that had been warmed by the brazier, ready to help when the little one inevitably struggled.

Xiao Yuanbao wore only a thin linen underlayer in a pale cloud-water blue color. It looked old and a bit worn. The fabric was creased, and the edges curled.

He knelt on the bed, with his pale wrists and ankles exposed.

To Qi Beinan, the boy without his thick winter clothes looked like a kitten or puppy just pulled out of water—small, damp, and skinny.

Qi Beinan gently smoothed down Xiao Yuanbao’s fine, soft hair and said with heartache, “You need to eat more. You’re so skinny—I could lift you with one hand.”

Xiao Yuanbao hugged the warm outer garment and shot Qi Beinan a bit of a stern look. “You can’t.”

“Can’t what?”

“Kids can’t eat too much rice and meat. Ducklings get fat from eating too many weeds and bugs, then they get tied up and taken to town to be sold.”

Xiao Yuanbao said seriously, “I don’t want to get tied up and sold. I’d never see Father again.”

Qi Beinan couldn’t help but laugh. “Who told you this nonsense?”

Last night he cried himself to sleep while still managing to eat rabbit meat.

Xiao Yuanbao opened his mouth to say who told him, but after thinking about it, closed it again.

Chao Ge’er had told him not to tell anyone—or he’d put a little snake in his bed.

Qi Beinan saw he wasn’t going to speak and said, “You’re not a duckling, so how could you be the same? Even if you grow tall and strong, no one’s going to sell you.”

“Besides, if you don’t eat enough to grow, other kids will bully you.”

Xiao Yuanbao blinked. “Really?”

“They bully me because I’m small and thin?”

Qi Beinan’s brows lifted. “Someone’s been bullying you?”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head.

Qi Beinan didn’t press. “Of course it’s true. Look at me—no one dares to pick on someone my size.”

Xiao Yuanbao saw that Qi Beinan had slipped and almost said “brother” again, and that made him remember what Father said about keeping him in the house as an older brother.

He lowered his eyes, and tears welled up again. In a quiet voice, he asked, “But do you bully people?”

Qi Beinan was puzzled. “Only bad people bully others. I’m not a bad person—why would I bully anyone?”

“But… if someone bullies you, I’ll stand up for you.”

Xiao Yuanbao looked up in surprise, as if he were staring at a grown-up making promises that sounded too good to be true—half skeptical, half hopeful.

“Why would you help me?”

Qi Beinan thought for a moment, then reached out and gently pinched Xiao Yuanbao’s ear. “Because your mother asked me to take care of you. She knew you’d be all alone and worried about you.”

Xiao Yuanbao pursed his lips in disbelief. “Really? Mother really sent you to be my older brother?”

“Of course. Otherwise, how would I even know your name is Xiao Bao when we’ve never met before?”

Xiao Yuanbao sniffled. “Then why didn’t you tell me that yesterday?”

Qi Beinan was caught off guard. Whoever said children weren’t logical clearly hadn’t met this one. He had no good answer, so he simply played dumb.

“You didn’t ask yesterday! You just ran off. I didn’t even get a chance to tell you.”

Xiao Yuanbao sniffled again. At last, he seemed to believe that Qi Beinan really had come because his mother had asked him to.

His nose twitched, and the tears that had been building finally overflowed. Without warning, he threw open his arms and dove into Qi Beinan’s embrace.

“I miss Mother.”

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Qi Beinan saw Xiao Yuanbao’s pitiful little face and immediately set down his chopsticks to try and comfort him—but before he could speak, Xiao Yuanbao had already finished his meal, slid down from the table, and wouldn’t respond no matter how he called.

The child went straight back to his room.

Qi Beinan hurried after him, but as soon as he entered, Xiao Yuanbao slipped into the cabinet to hide.

“Xiao Bao.”

Qi Beinan bent down in front of the cabinet and called softly. Xiao Yuanbao heard his voice and didn’t dare be rude, but could only bury his head deeper into the pile of clothes.

Xiao Hu came in from behind and crouched down to scoop Xiao Yuanbao out of the cabinet. “So big already, and you still like hiding in here?”

Xiao Yuanbao had nowhere left to hide. He looked at Xiao Hu, lips trembling, and finally couldn’t hold it in—he burst into loud sobs, fat tears rolling down his cheeks.

“I don’t want a big brother! Make him leave!”

Usually, Xiao Yuanbao barely spoke to Xiao Hu and was timid by nature. This was the first time he had shown such strong rejection toward anyone.

Xiao Hu’s heart ached as he looked at the crying child. He patted his back gently and coaxed him, “Alright, alright, we’ll let big brother go back to his room for now.”

He gave Qi Beinan a look. Though worried, Qi Beinan saw how distressed Xiao Yuanbao was and had no choice but to quietly leave the room.

In the kitchen, Qin Niazi craned her neck toward the inner rooms. Seeing the drama unfold, she was delighted. She scrubbed the dishes with extra vigor.

She turned to Wang Chao Ge’er and said, “Don’t go embarrassing yourself. Stay up in the small room.”

Xiao Yuanbao cried for quite a while. Xiao Hu wasn’t one to be great at calming children—he couldn’t settle things with just a few words. He could only walk around the room carrying the boy.

Who knows how long passed before the little guy finally stopped crying.

Xiao Hu looked down and saw the child had cried himself to sleep in his arms, snuggled close to his chest.

His long lashes were still wet with tears, and his face and nose were flushed red. Even in sleep, he hiccupped now and then from sobbing.

Xiao Hu held him for a while longer before finally placing him gently in bed. He sat by the bed for a while, and only when he was sure Xiao Yuanbao wouldn’t wake did he quietly leave the room.

“He’s asleep?” Qin Niazi asked when Xiao Hu entered the kitchen.

“Mm.”

“I don’t think Bao Ge’er likes Beinan. That’s strange—he’s usually so mild-tempered.”

Xiao Hu sat near the hearth, tidying up his damaged bow and arrows. He wasn’t blind—he’d clearly seen Xiao Bao’s displeasure.

It puzzled him. When he first brought Qin Niazi and Chao Ge’er back, Xiao Bao had been happy. The two kids played well together.

Qi Beinan seemed gentle by nature. Normally, children liked older boys who were kind. Why was it different this time?

He didn’t voice any doubts. He only said, “Xiao Bao’s just shy. He’ll warm up once he gets used to him.”

Qin Niazi huffed in her heart.

She hadn’t dared to speak up at the dinner table, but now with just the two of them, she had fewer reservations.

Seizing the moment, she said directly, “Let’s not even talk about whether Bao Ge’er likes him or not. You got all worked up and let him stay, but have you really thought it through?”

Xiao Hu looked up at her. “What do you mean?”

Qin Niazi replied, “Another person means another mouth to feed. More people mean more labor taxes and expenses. You don’t manage the household accounts, so you don’t know how much more silver another person will cost. Sure, you’ve got skills and can earn money, but why add such a heavy burden to your shoulders? Has the Qi family ever done a single good thing for you?”

“And he’s a scholar—what heavy work can he even do? If he’s living here, are you planning to shell out silver so he can keep studying? Buy paper and ink and find a teacher?”

The more she thought about Qi Beinan’s ever-smiling face, the more she felt something was off.

Her words grew sharper: “Settling marriage arrangements early isn’t rare, but I’ve only heard of child brides. This is the first time I’ve seen someone take in a child husband!”

“Other people choose sons-in-law based on family wealth, but you? You’re paying out of your own pocket to raise one? What are you, a living bodhisattva?”

All these reasons sounded fair and logical, as if she were thinking for Xiao Yuanbao and the family—but deep down, she was worried about Chao Ge’er’s future.

Only if the household had enough would she have room to maneuver for her own son. If things became tight, she’d have no way to plan anything for him.

She and Xiao Hu had been married for a little over a year. While she hadn’t exactly been soft and gentle, she had at least acted like a capable and proper wife.

Never mind that Xiao Hu had never truly moved on from Xiao Bao’s mother. The two of them hadn’t spent much time together, and while there wasn’t much affection, they had gotten along respectfully.

This was the first time Xiao Hu had seen her red in the face and arguing with him—he was a bit surprised.

“You spoke nicely at the dinner table—why say these things now?”

“You never even discussed it with me beforehand,” Qin Niazi retorted. “I only held my tongue earlier for your face, with the kids and that Qi boy there. That’s why I didn’t say anything unpleasant.”

Xiao Hu realized this had all come on suddenly, and it was reasonable for her to be caught off guard.

Still, he had made up his mind to take in Qi Beinan, and he wouldn’t change it lightly.

He set down his bow and arrows and tried to reassure her: “I didn’t tell you ahead of time because I only just learned of the Qi family’s misfortune.”

“But don’t worry—since you brought Chao Ge’er here to live with me, I won’t let him go without. When the time comes, I’ll provide him a proper dowry. That won’t change because of Beinan’s arrival.”

Qin Niazi sneered coldly in her heart. Words were easy to say, especially ones without proof. A promise that wouldn’t need to be fulfilled for years—who could say what would happen by then? But the trouble of having that boy stay was real and immediate. How could she possibly be willing?

When she had first married in, she saw that cold and stern Xiao Hu, who didn’t talk much but was generous with money and agreed to whatever she asked.

He hadn’t pressured her to have a son either, and treated her own son like his own.

She’d been quietly delighted, thinking she’d finally married a dependable man. She even developed real affection for Xiao Hu. In the beginning, she’d sincerely treated Xiao Yuanbao well, running the household with care.

But as time went on, she realized that he never stopped holding onto the memory of the woman before her. There was never any real feeling for her.

She had felt jealousy, bitterness, and had stubbornly tried to win his heart—but in the end, she gave up.

And along with that, she started seeing Xiao Yuanbao as an eyesore.

Now she no longer cared about love. As long as he handed over the money and made sure she and Chao Ge’er lived comfortably, that was enough.

But now, thanks to this Qi Beinan, even the easy days with some spare money were going to be gone.

No affection, no money—what kind of rotten deal was that?

Before, when life was smooth, she could still keep up the act of being a good wife. But now that her fundamental interests were being threatened, there was no way she could hold back.

“You think you’re so capable. Just when things could’ve gotten easier, you go and drag us into more hardship over some sentiment.”

Seeing that Xiao Hu was as stubborn as an ox and wouldn’t be persuaded, she raised her voice toward the window.

“What do you call a son-in-law living in his wife’s house? Living off a woman! Any man with real ability wouldn’t do such a thing!”

Xiao Hu’s brows furrowed tightly when he heard her raise her voice. If Qi Beinan heard that, wouldn’t it just break his heart?

He said, “Beinan came because his family ran into misfortune. If he had another choice, he wouldn’t be here.”

Qin Niazi, still fuming, suddenly thought of her dead husband again. That man had thrown around money for relatives, acting generous, yet left his own family hungry and cold. Her anger surged.

“You treat him like that—anyone who didn’t know better would think he’s your real son!”

Xiao Hu had been silently enduring her, not even truly angry. But upon hearing this, his expression visibly darkened.

His voice dropped low, full of authority and edge—the kind of tone a hunter carried when truly stirred: “Watch your words!”

Qin Niazi immediately shut her mouth at his glare.

Though Xiao Hu always seemed a bit fierce, living with him had taught her that he was steady and softhearted. Because she knew his nature, she’d grown bolder over time, doing whatever she pleased.

But this was the first time she’d seen him truly angry. It genuinely startled her.

She sobered a little, realizing she’d gone too far. But even so, how could someone still boiling with frustration admit they were wrong? In her mind, he was the one being unreasonable.

Her eyes turned red as she tried to patch up the goodwill she’d just torn to pieces: “I’ve done everything for you—for this family—and you treat me like this.”

“If I’d known life would be like this, I’d have stayed a widow. Why suffer like this as a stepmother? I may as well just go back to my own family!”

With that, she covered her chest, pretended to cry, and stormed out of the kitchen.

But she didn’t go far. When she saw Qi Beinan walking toward the kitchen, she quickly ducked behind a wall.

Scholars were thin-skinned and proud. She wanted to see just how the boy from a scholar’s family would react after such a quarrel.

Outside, Qi Beinan narrowed his eyes and quietly watched the show unfold.

He had heard the whole argument from earlier—Qin Niazi hadn’t exactly kept her voice down. Clearly, she wanted him to hear it.

The quarrel had been about him. If she couldn’t move Xiao Hu with words, she hoped to shame him into leaving on his own.

If it were truly the ten-year-old version of him, he might’ve packed up and gone.

But now, he’d seen storms far worse than this. What was this, if not just a bit of petty squabbling?

The more he saw of Qin Niazi’s two-faced nature, the more he couldn’t bear the thought of Xiao Bao living with such a woman.

Now that he knew she was so devious, he wouldn’t treat her with courtesy anymore.

But he still needed to reassure his father-in-law, to keep Xiao Hu from changing his mind because of a little drama.

He straightened up, shed the amused air from watching the show, and switched to a sorrowful expression as he stepped into the kitchen.

“Uncle Xiao… Auntie…”

Qi Beinan looked at Xiao Hu, hesitating.

His face carried guilt and unease.

After a moment, he seemed to make a difficult decision. “Looks like tomorrow will be clear… I… I’ll return to Qiu County. Thank you for your hospitality.”

Behind the wall, Qin Niazi nearly burst into laughter.

She knew it—these scholars were spoiled by good treatment and couldn’t take a bit of shame.

Now that he’d decided to leave on his own, no one could say they had kicked him out.

Xiao Hu panicked: “Why would you go back to Qiu County! You just gave me your word—are you breaking your promise now? How could I trust you with Xiao Bao’s future after this?”

Qi Beinan said, “I gave my word to care for Xiao Bao, and I won’t go back on that. But I also don’t want Uncle and Auntie to fall out over me.”

Xiao Hu furrowed his brow. “Your aunt has a bit of a temper—don’t take it to heart. I’ll speak to her properly. You don’t need to worry. Just settle in and make yourself at home.”

Qi Beinan looked troubled. “I… I can’t. How could I disrupt Uncle’s household like this? If Aunt were here, she surely wouldn’t want to make things hard for you.”

“If your aunt were here, she certainly wouldn’t let you leave. Now things are like this—where would you even go? The world might look peaceful on the surface, but without anyone to rely on, it’s dangerous. Just listen to me!”

Qi Beinan was silent for a moment, then said, “I do want to return, but Father always taught me to obey my elders. Now that my parents are gone, Uncle Xiao is the elder I trust most.”

He lowered his head. “I’ll do whatever Uncle Xiao decides.”

“That’s more like it. Don’t overthink it.”

Qi Beinan nodded, then added, “Auntie might not like me, but I’ll make sure to respect and honor her even more in the future, to make her happy, and not let Uncle be put in a hard spot.”

Pah! That little brat!

Hiding behind the wall, Qin Niazi was stunned, nearly spitting in anger. Could this boy be any more slick, playing along like this?

Just one gentle push and he was already going along with the flow, every word making him sound pitiful.

The more Qi Beinan bowed low and made himself humble, the more he made her seem like the villain.

Xiao Hu, already full of guilt, felt worse. He had spoken so boldly before, insisting that Qin Niazi wouldn’t cause any trouble—only for things to turn out like this, beyond what he’d expected.

“You’re too good-natured. It’s your aunt who went too far—unlike how an elder should act.”

Behind the wall, Qin Niazi’s chest tightened with fury.

This damn hunter—siding with an outsider instead of her, even criticizing her now?

And that sly little brat too—not even grown yet and already full of tricks.

Getting the village head to come help him into the house after being shut out—she should’ve known he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with!

Clinging like a piece of stubborn plaster, won’t listen when persuaded, won’t leave when pushed.

Fine. She’d eaten more salt than he’d had rice. She refused to believe she couldn’t get rid of this half-grown boy!

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Qin Niazi paced outside the door with her hands tucked in her sleeves, glancing toward the house where the hunter had returned and promptly taken Qi Beinan inside. The door had been shut, and she had no idea what the two were discussing.

Just as she was about to press her ear to the door, it opened from within.

Startled, Qin Niazi quickly stepped back. Xiao Hu stepped out looking to be in a good mood and told her, “Make a good meal tonight.”

She immediately followed by his side, but once she got close, the strong scent of wild game and blood on him made her wrinkle her nose and step farther away.

“He’s really a relative?”

“Not a relative, an old acquaintance.”

“How come I’ve never heard you mention you had an old acquaintance who was a scholar?”

Xiao Hu didn’t bother hiding it. He replied honestly, “Back when Beinan’s mother was alive, she and Xiao Bao’s mother were close as sisters. After they each married, the Xiao and Qi families stayed in touch.”

Hearing this connection, Qin Niazi felt somewhat uneasy, though the stone hanging in her heart finally dropped.

When she first heard Qi Beinan’s parents had passed away and he was an old acquaintance of the Xiao family, she’d feared he had come to seek refuge.

Now, knowing they weren’t even real relatives but just a household once close with the former wife, she felt more at ease.

Someone that distant wouldn’t likely choose the Xiao family to depend on.

Still, she asked, “But it’s the end of the year—what important business brings him here? Don’t tell me he came to borrow money?”

Seeing Xiao Hu remain silent, her expression changed. She figured she had hit the mark and instantly grew displeased.

The year-end meant plenty of expenses, and just days ago she’d promised her own family she’d send them pork and grains come New Year. If money were lent out now, how could they still afford it?

So she said, “You go risk your life in the mountains for a few coins, and this house isn’t exactly wealthy. What kind of ‘old acquaintance’ doesn’t keep in touch normally but shows up the moment they need something—”

Xiao Hu suddenly stopped in his tracks and gave her a look. Qin Niazi felt her heart skip a beat.

He didn’t get angry, but something in his demeanor shifted. In a calm voice, he said, “Beinan didn’t come to borrow money.”

“Oh… he didn’t…” Qin Niazi responded. “Then why is he here? He really came all this way just to deliver something his parents told him to? What on earth was it?”

Xiao Hu didn’t answer her directly. “Cook dinner first. I’ll explain later.”

Qin Niazi opened her mouth to press further, but upon seeing the unyielding look in Xiao Hu’s eyes, she swallowed her words.

He wasn’t one to joke. If he said no, then it meant no.

“Alright, if we’re eating well tonight, I’ll make meat. I just bought a slab of pork belly from the city today.”

Xiao Hu gave a small nod. He’d returned from the mountains carrying a bamboo basket on his back, filled with the past few days’ game.

In the eleventh lunar month, hunting had no particular taboos—everything was fair game. But compared to other seasons, fewer animals moved about in the forest.

This time he brought back only one pheasant, two wild rabbits, and three pairs of quail. No large catch.

That was typical when living off the mountain—getting bits and pieces was the norm. Coming back with something was already good fortune. Getting deer, goat, or wild boar was considered sheer luck.

He pulled out a white-furred rabbit. “Stew it.”

Qin Niazi eyed the rabbit, its round eyes still open wide. “We’re eating this well tonight?”

“Beinan came all this way.”

Qin Niazi inwardly pouted. She hefted the rabbit, which was heavy with autumn fat—almost lifeless.

She thought, Xiao Hu is being awfully generous to that boy. Normally he wouldn’t even let us eat these things.

“Well, I suppose we should eat well. Can’t let that boy go back saying we villagers were inhospitable. And he even brought treats and snacks for Chao Ge’er and Bao Ge’er. I’ll get started stewing it now.”

She said all the right, virtuous words, tied on her apron, and was about to take the rabbit to the kitchen.

Xiao Hu asked, “Where are the two kids?”

Wang Chao Ge’er had always feared Xiao Hu deep down and didn’t like his hunter stepfather one bit. As soon as he heard he’d returned, he shut himself in his room.

He was currently stuffing his face with the snacks Qi Beinan brought.

Qin Niazi replied, “Chao Ge’er is in the house. I’ve been teaching him to do some needlework. That way, he can mend your clothes in the future. You always wear them thin when you go into the mountains. He’s really focused right now—I’ll go call him.”

“If he’s studying seriously, let him be. Don’t interrupt him.”

Qin Niazi smiled, then thought aloud, “As for Bao Ge’er…”

“Oh dear—why’s my son hiding when he sees his father come home?”

Qin Niazi pulled Xiao Yuanbao out from behind the door with a laugh and said, “What a timid thing. It’s your father, not some stranger.”

Xiao Hu looked at the little figure in front of him—wrapped up in thick layers, head down, staring at his toes. He looked round, but that sharp little chin couldn’t be hidden.

Xiao Hu frowned. “He seems thinner.”

Qin Niazi huffed, “You men, all you know is how to earn money. Not a clue how fast kids grow. When they shoot up, they naturally slim down a bit. What, you think they stay chubby like toddlers forever? At this age, ten days can make a big difference. Do you even realize how long you’ve been off in the mountains?”

Xiao Hu truly didn’t know how to care for a child. After Xiao Bao’s mother passed, he had taken care of him alone for a time.

He had never intended to remarry, but his clumsy, rough ways made it hard to look after a child. After his mother’s death, Xiao Bao cried constantly, fell sick frequently, and grew thin like a little kitten.

He hadn’t known what to do back then—each day he was restless and overwhelmed. Fortunately, a matchmaker introduced Qin Niazi, and only then did he finally have someone who knew how to care for a child.

Xiao Hu reached out, wanting to hug his boy. Xiao Yuanbao had clearly missed his father after not seeing him for a while, but the sudden reunion made him shy. He bashfully took a step back to hide.

Seeing this, Qin Niazi stepped in and blocked Xiao Hu. “You stink of the wild. You’ll make Bao Ge’er gag. Go wash up—he’s avoiding you because you smell.”

Xiao Hu glanced down at the grime on his body, and reluctantly withdrew his hands.

Qi Beinan stood quietly in the shadows, observing the whole family’s interaction.

He thought to himself—Qin Niazi really was something else. Every word of hers sounded caring on the surface but was actually meant to keep father and son distant. When it came to sowing discord, she was a master.

With the way things were going, these two, already unfamiliar with each other, would only drift farther apart under her subtle interference.

Qi Beinan stepped forward in large strides. “I thought Xiao Bao didn’t like me and was hiding. Turns out he’s just this shy, even with his own father.”

He squatted between the couple, smiled at Xiao Yuanbao, and asked, “Xiao Bao, does your father stink?”

Xiao Yuanbao shook his head. “No, he doesn’t.”

Hearing that, Xiao Hu’s expression softened. He reached out again and scooped up his son.

Xiao Yuanbao was still a bit timid, but once he was in his father’s arms, his eyes lit up with joy. He quickly wrapped his arms around Xiao Hu’s neck.

Watching the scene, Qin Niazi felt as if she had swallowed something bitter.

She turned to look at Qi Beinan—only to find him already looking at her.

His smile was calm and warm, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “Auntie, you really are so thoughtful.”

Qin Niazi had just been annoyed by how talkative the boy was and had planned to give a cutting remark. But that completely out-of-place line, paired with his oddly direct gaze, made her heart skip a beat.

She was momentarily speechless. Smoothing her apron, she turned and went to the kitchen.

That night, with Xiao Hu’s approval, Qin Niazi prepared a spicy, fermented rabbit stew.

Wild rabbit had a gamier smell than domestic rabbit, so she used heavy seasoning. The big basin of rabbit meat was chopped into even chunks and stewed to a glossy brown in thick, golden sauce.

The meat was tender, juicy, and fragrant. The aroma filled the entire house and made mouths water.

Qin Niazi dipped her chopsticks into the sauce for a taste—her face lit up with pride.

She was very pleased with her cooking that day. If her husband, always biased toward his son, tried this, he’d surely regret not having taught her his hunting tricks along with his culinary skills.

After stewing the meat, she made a light winter mallow and radish soup to balance the richness of the dish.

As she dropped slices of radish into the boiling water, she couldn’t help but reflect—back when she lived with that old man, even getting a single bite of meat was difficult. Where could she ever have imagined having meat stews and fresh soup like this?

She had finally made it.

“Beinan, eat more. You’ve come all this way, and our home doesn’t have much to offer. I hope you don’t mind my poor cooking,” she said at the table, pushing the dish toward Qi Beinan. “Your uncle caught this rabbit himself. Wild rabbit is more tender than domestic, not easy to find even outside.”

“Auntie’s cooking is wonderful. I’m the one who’s intruding. Thank you both for taking such good care of me.”

Qi Beinan spoke sincerely—Qin Niazi’s cooking really was good. Back in the day, he’d always found Xiao Yuanbao’s food delicious; maybe he’d picked up a thing or two from her.

Qin Niazi took pride in her cooking. Without this skill of hers, there was no way a widow with a child could’ve married into a household like this, especially with her modest background.

The Xiao family wasn’t wealthy, but Xiao Hu had a craft. They could afford salt more easily than most farmers.

With a smile on her face, she said, “If you like it, I’ll make something different for you tomorrow.”

She even thoughtfully placed a piece of meat into Xiao Yuanbao’s bowl—something she didn’t even do for Chao Ge’er.

Xiao Hu drank a cup of cloudy liquor. He never brought alcohol into the mountains for fear it might lead to mistakes. Only when he returned could he enjoy it in peace.

Up in the mountains, he survived on simple fare—mostly flatcakes just to fill his belly. Now that he was home, drinking hot soup and eating warm meat, he couldn’t help but eat a few extra bites.

Looking at how polite and cordial everyone was—Qin Niazi so warm and gentle—it truly looked like a harmonious family.

Xiao Hu was in a good mood. He said aloud that Qin Niazi would surely be pleased with how sensible Qi Beinan was. He put down his wine cup.

“Since the whole family is here, I’ll say this now.”

His tone could hardly hide his cheer. “From now on, Beinan will stay here with us. He’s family.”

With that, he picked his wine cup up again.

The moment Qin Niazi heard those words, her head went blank with a loud buzz.

She stared blankly at Xiao Hu, who was looking serious—clearly not joking—and even seemed pleased. Her heart dropped like a stone falling from her stomach.

She missed her mark trying to pick up a piece of meat and slowly pulled her chopsticks back. Her appetite was gone.

Forcing a smile, she said, “You—don’t tell me you’ve had too much to drink and are talking nonsense.”

Xiao Hu replied, “Beinan’s parents are gone, and he’s still so young and alone. I was close with his parents—I can’t just let him drift with no one to turn to.”

Qin Niazi forced herself to appear calm, still putting on her understanding act. “Beinan’s situation is truly pitiful. I feel for him too. If he can stay here, of course that’s a good thing. But… his surname is Qi. No matter how close we are, I’m afraid his relatives might not approve…”

Xiao Hu set down his wine cup and said, “Though not kin by blood, there’s still a bond. When Xiao Bao’s mother was still alive, she met Beinan at the Qi household, and the two families exchanged tokens to settle a marriage early on.”

“Now that the Qi family has met with misfortune, it makes sense for him to come here. His remaining relatives are hard to get along with, so he really had nowhere else to go.”

Hearing this, Qi Beinan immediately put down his bowl and chopsticks, rose to his feet, and respectfully bowed toward Qin Niazi. “I ask Auntie to lend me half a roof’s shelter. My parents have passed, and my kin are as vicious as wolves. I truly had no choice but to seek help from Uncle and Aunt. Whatever kindness and favor I receive here, I will remember with all my heart, and once I’m grown, I will surely repay it.”

Qin Niazi was choked silent, her chest rising and falling. She knew it—someone coming from far away right before the New Year could never mean anything good.

She had thought at first that he wasn’t here to seek shelter, but after all that circling, it still came down to the same outcome.

She wanted to snap and drive him out right then, but she didn’t dare disgrace Xiao Hu to his face. She swallowed her temper and tried to keep her voice even: “Beinan is a scholar. Our countryside home is rather coarse and rustic. Auntie would be delighted for you to stay, only I fear you won’t be used to it.”

Qi Beinan replied with a gentle smile, “Auntie’s concern is appreciated. I myself was born into a farming family. I’m used to such things—I’m certainly not a pampered person.”

“I was worried coming here might trouble you, but Uncle Xiao told me that Auntie is exceptionally understanding and kind. That turns out to be entirely true—I’m truly fortunate to have met you.”

Qin Niazi felt her breath catch. That wasn’t an agreement she’d given—yet Qi Beinan had twisted it into one, and even placed a shining halo over her head.

She glanced at the approving look in Xiao Hu’s eyes. With both men cornering her like this, she couldn’t very well lose face then and there.

Grinding her molars, she said, “Well then, I’ve no worries. You can stay and see how things go.”

Chao Ge’er, clutching his rice bowl, was already eight this year. Though not good at reading the room, he understood enough of the conversation to get excited. His eyes lit up. “Mother, is Brother Beinan really going to live with us now?”

The pastries and fruit that Qi Beinan had brought were delicious today. He was hoping the older boy would get him more in the future. If he became the older brother in their house, wouldn’t that mean sweets every day?

Qin Niazi shot him a look. “Eat your food. Children shouldn’t interrupt when adults are talking.”

Xiao Hu turned to Qi Beinan. “Sit and eat. Like I said—your Auntie isn’t one to fuss over things.”

Qi Beinan nodded and complied. He knew Qin Niazi wouldn’t agree so easily, but now that she’d said he could stay for the time being, there was no need to press the point.

So he sat back down, smiled, and praised her a little more, making Qin Niazi feel thoroughly uncomfortable.

Inwardly pleased, he picked up a piece of rabbit leg and tried to place it into Xiao Yuanbao’s bowl, where the boy had been quietly eating his rice with his head down.

But just as the chopsticks approached, Xiao Yuanbao subtly shifted his bowl. The movement was small, and the meat still landed in his bowl—but the message was clear.

Qi Beinan’s brows moved slightly.

Qin Niazi, ever sharp-eyed, caught the motion and was secretly delighted—this cowardly little one didn’t like Qi Beinan.

That could be a perfect excuse to stir things up. Xiao Hu cared deeply for his own son—perhaps he’d reconsider everything.

She immediately placed a piece of meat into Xiao Yuanbao’s bowl, cooing in a gentle tone while purposely saying things that would poke at his displeasure: “Your father said Brother Beinan will be living with us from now on. It’s the same whether it’s him giving you food or me.”

“Now you’ll have two brothers at home. You can all play together—how wonderful, isn’t it?”

Upon hearing this, Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes turned red.

None of it was wonderful.

His father and Qin Niazi weren’t kind at all—they kept bringing new brothers into the house.

And Qi Beinan wasn’t nice either. He clearly said going to Uncle Li’s house to be a brother would be better, but he didn’t believe him—he insisted on staying here instead.

Xiao Yuanbao had no way to speak his sorrow aloud. He didn’t dare cry or throw a tantrum at the dinner table, so his chest only felt tighter, his nose more stuffed.

He didn’t want to cry and be laughed at by Chao Ge’er as a crybaby, so he lowered his head and shoved a piece of meat into his mouth, hoping to plug up the tightness in his throat.

What he didn’t expect was—this spicy rabbit stew… was so good.

So he buried his face in his bowl, stuffed his mouth with meat, and kept eating in big bites. His round eyes, finally occupied, began to shed tear after tear.

As long as he didn’t cry out loud—then it didn’t count as crying!

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Later that afternoon, Xiao Hu unexpectedly returned home.

He came back surprisingly early—barely an hour or so had passed since the household had eaten their midday meal.

As it happened, he had already planned to descend from the mountains today. While on the path from the wooden cabin deep in the forest, he ran into a villager who had gone up to deliver a message.

Upon hearing that Qi Beinan had arrived, he quickened his pace and hurried home.

Qi Beinan could now be considered as having once again met his father-in-law.

This father-in-law of his was still only in his thirties, and compared to the version from his memories, he looked much the same.

Some people seemed older than their peers when young, yet appeared younger again in middle age—Xiao Hu was exactly that sort.

He was the very image of a man who lived off the mountains. His stature wasn’t especially tall, but his frame was solid and powerful.

His eyebrows and beard were thick and dark, his hair coarse and curled, carelessly tied back, and his body carried the faint scent of wild beasts.

At his right waist hung a long wood-cutting knife polished to a chilling gleam, and at his left hip rested a small dagger. Slung across his shoulder was a long hunting bow.

All in all, he was the kind of man who carried at least three lethal weapons on him at any given moment.

Anyone unfamiliar with him would instinctively keep a three-meter distance upon seeing such a figure.

After Qi Beinan and Xiao Yuanbao married, he had taken Xiao Yuanbao with him to his post, and in truth, hadn’t spent much time with Xiao Hu.

Later, Qi Beinan had thought about bringing his father-in-law to live with them, but Xiao Hu already had his household and never agreed.

Less than two years after that, terrible news came from their hometown: Xiao Hu had suffered an accident while hunting in the mountains.

When Xiao Yuanbao heard the news, he fell severely ill, and his health had been fragile ever since.

“Qi Beinan greets Uncle Xiao.”

Qi Beinan bowed respectfully, emotions complex. He admired this father-in-law, yet also resented his carelessness that had caused Xiao Bao so much hardship.

But if one were to blame things in detail, he himself was also at fault. After their marriage, Xiao Bao had endured mockery from noblewomen and suffered in silence, while he remained oblivious for far too long.

“You’ve grown so much.”

Though the Qi and Xiao families had stayed in contact through letters—Qi Beinan often asked after his well-being—this was the first time they’d met since Qi Jinyan had moved to Qiu County.

Back then, Qi Beinan had been about the same age as Xiao Bao was now—a small boy. Now he stood tall and strong, nearly matching Xiao Hu in height.

He took after his father’s handsome features, but unlike his father’s refined and gentle manner, Qi Beinan’s frame was more robust and sturdy.

Xiao Hu looked him over, visibly pleased.

“Your father…”

As the topic turned to Qi Jinyan, Xiao Hu’s expression grew heavy, and he let out a long sigh.

Life and death were unpredictable. As a hunter, he understood that better than most—but hearing that another person tied to his late wife had passed left his heart steeped in sorrow.

“You must learn to let go. Your father and mother only left behind you.”

Xiao Hu wasn’t good with comforting words, but his intentions were sincere.

“I understand. But now that Father is gone, I am truly alone.”

Qi Beinan briefly mentioned the family trouble from his previous life, carefully selecting what to say. Though nothing had happened yet, he knew that if he stayed in Qiu County long enough, the relatives from back home would eventually come looking for him. It wasn’t a lie.

“Father had just passed when they started acting this way. It was truly disheartening. With no one else to rely on, I took the liberty of seeking out Uncle Xiao.”

Xiao Hu’s face darkened, and he slammed the table: “Qi Xiucai took you to Qiu County. I thought they’d finally stop pestering you. I can’t believe the moment he’s gone, they’ve become even more shameless!”

“If I’d been there, I’d have taught them a lesson they’d never forget!”

“Your words alone give me great comfort, Uncle Xiao,” Qi Beinan said.

Xiao Hu continued, “If those scoundrels went to Qiu County, you should’ve sent me a letter—I’d have come to stand up for you.”

Qi Beinan said, “At first, they claimed they came to pay their respects and spoke kindly. Only after some time did their true faces emerge. I was foolish to trust them.”

Xiao Hu let out a breath of frustration. “That’s not your fault. They came with hidden motives. How could a child like you deal with that?”

Seeing that Xiao Hu was clearly on his side, Qi Beinan brought out the square wooden box he’d carried with him and respectfully presented it.

“This was something my father instructed me to deliver personally to Uncle Xiao before he passed.”

Xiao Hu was surprised. What could be worth sending across such a long distance? He opened the box and saw inside—a cloud-patterned silver neck lock, one he recognized.

Qi Beinan stepped back, knelt, and bowed. “Before he died, Father said that if anything happened to our family, I must bring this to Uncle Xiao. But if things went well in Qiu County, I was to study hard and not disturb the Xiao family, only coming to fulfill our engagement when the time was right.”

“In the past, when our parents were alive, the Xiao and Qi families had arranged a marriage. Now I am young and alone—please, Uncle, show me mercy for the sake of that old bond.”

Qi Beinan wasn’t fully confident that Xiao Hu would agree.

His father had always said that Xiao Hu was a man of good character, someone worthy of trust.

But now, as a young man with no official title and little money, it was understandable if his father-in-law no longer wished to accept him.

Worse still, he might even be thinking of breaking the engagement in light of all that had happened.

So Qi Beinan added, “I am not clever, nor of great talent, but Father made sure I never neglected my studies. When my mourning period ends, I am confident I can pass the county exam.”

Though a promise made with empty hands could be seen as hollow, it was better than offering nothing at all. And Qi Beinan’s promise wasn’t baseless—he truly had the confidence to follow through.

“If in three years I have not earned the title of xiucai, I will leave of my own accord. In these three years, I will take care of my studies and living expenses myself. I only ask Uncle to lend me a corner of roof to shelter under.”

Qi Beinan’s words, though not backed by solid guarantees, were spoken with genuine sincerity.

After hearing about the relatives from the Qi family coming to stir up trouble, and seeing that Qi Beinan had come all this way on his own, Xiao Hu already had a sense of the situation.

He looked at the cloud-patterned silver lock lying quietly in the box—he still kept the matching one for Xiao Bao safe.

Back then, when he and his late wife had visited the Qi family and the marriage was happily arranged, it had felt like just a few years ago. Now, everyone else was gone, and all that remained were him and this lone child.

He looked down at the boy kneeling on the ground—his back straight, his gaze steady and firm, nothing like an ordinary youth.

That made his vow seem all the more convincing.

Though Xiao Hu was a rough man, he understood well how difficult the imperial exams were nowadays. For a commoner’s child to earn even the lowest scholarly title was as hard as climbing to the heavens.

For that reason, he thought this vow of Qi Beinan’s was likely hard to fulfill.

But he wasn’t one who coveted wealth or status. If Qi Beinan really could earn some distinction, it would naturally be a good thing.

Even if he couldn’t, he had read and studied well enough. He could read and write, and in the future, learning a lighter trade to make a living wouldn’t be difficult.

He could become a bookkeeper, or work in a printing house or academy as a clerk—any of those would be enough to support a household.

As long as Yuanbao could live with him, eat his fill and stay warm, that was good enough.

Xiao Hu might not seem like a schemer, but when it came to important matters, he had his own internal balance and made his calculations clearly.

He closed the wooden box and stepped forward to help Qi Beinan to his feet.

“I was close with your father and mother. Even without this marriage between our families, now that you’re an orphan with no one to rely on, I’d still take you in. Qi Xiucai entrusted you to me on his deathbed—that’s how much he trusted me.”

Xiao Hu looked at Qi Beinan and said, “I’m glad to see you’re ambitious, but you don’t need to make such heavy promises. Don’t burden yourself. Whether three years is enough or not, just settle in with peace of mind.”

“I’m often away. Xiao Bao is still young. If you can look after him while I’m out, I’ll feel more at ease.”

Qi Beinan, hearing Xiao Hu agree, let out a long breath of relief. He solemnly said, “You can rest assured, Uncle. I will take good care of Xiao Bao.”

Then he added, “Only… about Auntie…”

Xiao Hu waved his hand. “Don’t worry. Your aunt is a kind and virtuous woman. She’s known hardship too. I’ll explain everything to her—she’ll understand.”

Qi Beinan smiled faintly at those words. It was clear his father-in-law didn’t truly know what kind of person Qin Niazi was. He still believed in the gentle mask she wore.

But Qi Beinan didn’t say a single ill word about her. Instead, he followed Xiao Hu’s lead and praised her:

“With Uncle’s assurance, I’m sure Auntie must be warm and easy to get along with. I noticed Xiao Bao’s personality is a bit quiet—if not for a woman as kind as Auntie, how could he have been raised with such care? I will always show her respect and honor.”

Qi Beinan knew perfectly well what kind of temperament Qin Niazi had. There was no way she would be happy with an outsider suddenly living under her roof.

She would surely see him as an extra mouth to feed, another drain on the household expenses.

And more importantly, he was already ten, and had studied—he was no longer the innocent four- or five-year-old like Xiao Yuanbao, easy to manipulate.

Precisely because he anticipated this, he went out of his way to speak highly of her—lifting her up as generous, understanding, virtuous and wise.

He deliberately raised Xiao Hu’s expectations of her. The more she failed to live up to that image, the more disappointed Xiao Hu would be, and the more likely he’d begin to see her true colors.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

“This child is very shy and timid. He’s unfamiliar with you—if you call him, he’ll be even more afraid. Give it time; once he’s used to you, he’ll be fine.”

Qi Beinan glanced at Qin Niazi but didn’t reply.

Though rural homes were mostly made of earthen walls and clay, families with a few years of stability usually had decent space. Compared to cramped city households, land wasn’t as tight here.

The Xiao household wasn’t large in number. Typically, they used two rooms for sleeping—one for Xiao Hu and Qin Niazi, the other shared by the two boys. Another room, kept locked, had been the one Xiao Hu once shared with Xiao Yuanbao’s birth mother.

That left two unused rooms—one filled with miscellaneous items, and one deliberately left as a guest room.

Qin Niazi led Qi Beinan to the guest room to settle in.

Normally, no one from the village would stay over without a reason, and there weren’t visiting relatives, so Qin Niazi had been lazy with the upkeep. Not only had she not tidied the room, she hadn’t even swept the floor.

The room had been empty for some time and was dusty. Thankfully, winter didn’t stir up much dirt, but the air was damp this time of year, and the room carried a faint musty odor.

Qin Niazi knew it wasn’t clean, but she felt no shame. The boy had shown up unannounced—what right had he to expect anything better?

What she hated most was relatives dropping by. Her former husband had always entertained visiting cousins and distant kin—borrowing rice, fabric, money…

And the man had always wanted to save face and play the generous host, lending to everyone. Outsiders praised him as a good man, while his own family had to tighten their belts and suffer.

Now, seeing another relative show up at the Xiao household, she could only hope the boy would sense the cold welcome, pack up, and leave quickly.

She muttered with a tinge of sarcasm, “Had you sent a letter ahead, Uncle Xiao would’ve gone to fetch you. Look at you, finding your own way here. I almost mistook you for someone shady and left you outside. Lucky you were clever enough to seek out the village head.”

Qi Beinan, of course, understood the implication behind her words, but he didn’t respond to them. Instead, he offered an apology:

“The fault lies with me for not thinking it through, causing inconvenience to Auntie. With Uncle Xiao not at home, it’s only natural Auntie would be cautious with two children in the house.”

Seeing how tactfully and flawlessly Qi Beinan spoke, Qin Niazi realized there was little point in continuing her passive-aggressive remarks. She changed the subject.

“If there’s anything you need, just tell Auntie. Uncle Xiao’s in the mountains—if he’s in the outer woods, he’s easy to find, but if he’s gone deeper to set traps, then it may be difficult.”

She was trying to probe why Qi Beinan had come, so she could be better prepared.

Qi Beinan understood her intent, but by now had judged that this Auntie wasn’t someone easy to get along with. He had no intention of revealing his true reason.

“My father gave me something before his passing and instructed me to deliver it personally to Uncle Xiao. I don’t fully understand its significance—perhaps only Uncle Xiao will.”

Qin Niazi, hearing no clear answer, felt displeased but had no excuse to press further. “I see. Then rest for now. The village head said he’d send someone to the mountains—we’ll just wait.”

“Much appreciated, Auntie.”

Qin Niazi responded with a few half-hearted polite words and left the room. It was nearing noon; whether guests were present or not, it was time to light the stove and cook.

Seeing her heading to the kitchen, Xiao Yuanbao quickly tried to help.

But Qin Niazi glanced at the little boy running ahead and her eyes lit with calculation. “Bao Ge’er, why don’t you go play with that older brother in the house? Mother will make you scrambled eggs later.”

She raised her voice deliberately, making sure the person inside could hear.

When others were around, she acted especially warm toward Xiao Yuanbao—never letting anyone see her as a biased or cruel stepmother.

Normally, she would’ve made Xiao Yuanbao help with the fire. But today, she turned to Chao Ge’er instead.

“I’m not lighting the fire!” Chao Ge’er grumbled. “Why don’t you—”

The lazy boy had no intention of helping and was still curious about whether Qi Beinan had brought any treats or toys. But before he could finish, Qin Niazi shot him a sharp glare.

He immediately shrank back, pouting as he dragged himself toward the kitchen.

Inwardly, he complained—If a guest comes without gifts, and I still have to do chores, I’d rather they didn’t come at all. And now they’re even calling my stepfather home early? That means no fun for days.

Inside, Qi Beinan had no interest in playing along with Qin Niazi’s show in the main hall.

He looked at the simple wooden table and stool, noting the fine layer of dust thick enough to write in. His luggage was dark-colored, but he couldn’t bring himself to place it on the dusty furniture.

It wasn’t that he had once lived in luxury and now found farming life beneath him.

He hadn’t come from a high background—he’d endured plenty of hardship in his youth while seeking education. He’d lived through all sorts of conditions.

But whether he wore silk or hemp, cleanliness and order were things he always valued.

So he placed his bundle on top of his own trunk, thinking to wipe down the dust with something.

Seeing how indifferent Qin Niazi was to the state of the room, he didn’t feel it proper to ask her. Since he hadn’t decided whether to stay yet, he thought it best to avoid confrontation.

As he was searching for something to clean with, he felt a pair of eyes watching him from behind.

Turning around, he caught a round little figure quickly ducking behind the wall.

“Xiao Bao?”

Qi Beinan called softly and got up to look.

Sure enough, hiding behind the doorframe, he found Xiao Yuanbao peeking out.

Qi Beinan couldn’t help but smile. He reached out, wanting to draw him inside.

But Xiao Yuanbao blinked once, then darted away like a startled rabbit, fleeing to his own room.

“Hey!”

Qi Beinan’s brows moved slightly. Afraid of frightening him further, he didn’t dare give chase.

He felt a bit annoyed—why did children never seem to like him?

Unexpectedly, after a while, just as he opened his trunk to look for an old cloth to wipe down the dust, he heard soft, pattering footsteps again.

Xiao Yuanbao, who had run off, had returned—this time carrying a small basin of water with his head lowered, quietly entering the room.

He went straight to the washstand, stood on tiptoe, and tried to place the basin on the top shelf.

But he was still too small, and the basin too heavy. He nearly lost his balance and toppled over.

Startled, Qi Beinan quickly stepped forward, catching the basin and placing it on the washstand himself.

The water was warm, with faint steam rising from it. Inside was a piece of coarse hemp cloth.

“Did Auntie ask you to bring me this water?”

Qi Beinan frowned, looking down at Xiao Yuanbao. He was displeased that Qin Niazi had made such a small child do this sort of task.

The little one murmured, “Qin Niazi went to the fields to pick scallions.”

Qi Beinan paused. He gently took Xiao Yuanbao’s chubby cotton-clad arm and crouched down to face the timid child. “Then… did you fetch this water for me on your own?”

Xiao Yuanbao nodded. He had seen Auntie Qin draw water for visiting uncles and aunts when they came to their house.

“Yes. When guests come, we get water so they can wash their face and hands.” Qi Beinan acknowledged that with a nod, his voice softening. “But the basin was too heavy. If you slipped and burned yourself, that would’ve been bad. You shouldn’t carry it next time.”

“It’s not hot. I can carry it,” Xiao Yuanbao whispered. He could carry heavier foot-washing water for Chao Ge’er and Auntie Qin.

He spoke slowly and softly, his voice barely audible.

He was worried Qi Beinan might think he was weak and useless, so he tried to defend himself. But he didn’t dare look him in the eye, only stared at his own toes.

“You’re very strong to carry it, but from now on, let Brother carry it for you.”

Now that he was closer, Qi Beinan noticed that the red on Xiao Yuanbao’s face under his long eyelashes wasn’t from warmth—it was windburn.

Looking down, he found the boy’s small hands ice-cold, his fingers swollen with chilblains.

The worst of it had already cracked open on the tender skin.

Qi Beinan frowned tightly, unable to stop himself from blowing gently on the boy’s hands. “How did your hands get this bad?!”

He remembered how even in later years, once winter came, Xiao Yuanbao would get chilblains. It had taken a long time and a lot of care before the condition finally went away. He hadn’t expected it to have started so early in childhood.

But Xiao Yuanbao quickly pulled his little hands away and hid them behind his back, not answering the question. His mind was still stuck on what Qi Beinan had said about letting “Brother” carry the basin.

He wasn’t sure if the “Brother” meant Chao Ge’er or… Qi Beinan himself. If it meant the latter, then—

“Is Brother going to live in our house from now on?”

Though Xiao Yuanbao’s voice was quiet and not aggressive, children weren’t good at hiding their thoughts. The wariness in his tone was clear.

Qi Beinan saw this and didn’t answer directly. Instead, he asked, “Why? You don’t want Brother to stay?”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together. He’d already peeked at this “Brother” from behind the door earlier.

He was tall—Xiao Yuanbao only came up to his waist.

His shoulders were broad, and he could carry the big trunk with one hand. He must be very strong.

If he lived here, and didn’t like him the way Chao Ge’er didn’t, and wanted to bully him… then what would he do?

Xiao Yuanbao was afraid of saying no outright and making Qi Beinan angry. He didn’t dare meet his gaze and quietly looked away. “Our house doesn’t need another brother.”

As soon as he said that, he worried Qi Beinan might not get mad but instead feel sad. He quickly added, “But Uncle Li from Guishu Pass doesn’t have a brother. Maybe you can check if they need one.”

Qi Beinan was stunned for a moment—So being a brother here is actually in demand, huh?

He frowned with a pitiful look. “This house really doesn’t want one anymore? But Brother likes being with Xiao Bao the most…”

Hearing that, Xiao Yuanbao felt a little guilty seeing him genuinely sad, but he still stuck to his idea.

He tried to lure Qi Beinan with an alternative: “Uncle Li’s place is good too. He makes osmanthus cakes. If you go there to be a brother, you can eat them all the time. But if you stay here, I don’t have any osmanthus cakes to give you.”

“Ah…” Qi Beinan rubbed his chin thoughtfully. “So Xiao Bao can’t give me osmanthus cakes~”

Xiao Yuanbao quickly nodded seriously.

“That’s okay. I can go without osmanthus cakes.”

Qi Beinan smiled, bargaining, “But if Xiao Bao lets me stay and be your brother, then I’ll give you osmanthus cakes to eat. How about that?”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes widened a little, his faint brows furrowing—Why won’t he give up?

He also really wanted osmanthus cake… but he couldn’t trade that for another brother.

Every time Chao Ge’er made him do things, he’d promise to share sugar cakes if Xiao Yuanbao agreed—but he never did. He always lied.

Xiao Yuanbao thought and thought but couldn’t come up with a better excuse.

So, without answering, he suddenly turned around and darted away while Qi Beinan was distracted.

Qi Beinan quickly stood up. “Hey—Xiao Bao!” But the little one didn’t look back, only ran faster, vanishing in a flash.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

Qi Beinan didn’t head elsewhere—after leaving the Xiao household, he asked around and made his way to Village Head Zhao’s residence.

If he remembered correctly, the current village head of Fengliang Village bore the surname Zhao.

Back when he came to fetch Xiao Bao, the village head had come to greet him—they’d met briefly.

He couldn’t remember the man’s appearance, but the surname stuck with him from the few times he’d heard Xiao Bao mention it when talking about village matters.

Don’t underestimate a small village—even in humble places, the social structure had its intricacies.

One couldn’t become a village head simply by being a common farmer. The position typically belonged to someone from an old, influential local family—people with many clan members and wide connections.

More than that, a village head was usually literate, able to read and write, and somewhat familiar with legal matters—someone who understood decorum and law.

They worked as intermediaries with the county office—disseminating new imperial laws, handling taxes and corvée labor, and taking care of village affairs. In essence, they were minor officials under county jurisdiction.

At the same time, they also presided over village disputes and internal matters. If there was bickering between neighbors, it was the village head who mediated, since trivial issues weren’t worth dragging to the county court.

In this way, the village head held respect from both sides—trusted by villagers, and backed by the government.

Qi Beinan had long understood the importance of village heads and local gentry from his time serving as a local official.

Even as an official, one had to show them some respect—how much more so for the common folk who dealt with them daily.

In a village, the village head was the highest authority. If he agreed to lead the way to the Xiao household, there’d be no worry of being turned away.

“I’m Qi by surname, given name Beinan, from Yunshui Village in Jiangzhou. My father, Qi Jinyan, was a scholar and teacher. I’ve come to pay respects to an old friend of my parents.”

Led by a farmhand, Qi Beinan entered a high-walled compound with black tiles and respectfully bowed to the man inside—a man in his forties, with a sharp, competent air.

After offering formal greetings, he introduced himself and explained the connection between his mother and Xiao Yuanbao’s mother.

He chose his words carefully—mentioning only that the two families had once been close. He didn’t mention the betrothal with Xiao Yuanbao.

“I heard Uncle Xiao is away on a long journey. I fear Auntie may not recognize me, so I humbly ask the village head to accompany me to the Xiao household.”

Village Head Zhao reclined in a pearwood chair beneath a lantern. A small table within reach held a plate of dried snacks. He was warming himself by the fire, sipping heated wine.

When the farmhand told him a stranger had come looking for him, Zhao hadn’t wanted to step out into the cold, so he had the youth brought inside.

Once he heard that Qi Beinan’s father had been a scholar and teacher, Zhao subconsciously sat up straighter.

He gave the young man a once-over—his words and actions were polite and composed, with the bearing of someone from a learned household. Clearly not a fraud.

Impressed, Village Head Zhao felt even more curious. It seemed the Xiao family, despite being outsiders in the village, had once made quite a distinguished connection.

“Good child, come sit. Why come so close to the New Year?”

Qi Beinan didn’t conceal anything and calmly explained the deaths of both his parents.

“My father entrusted me with an important keepsake and instructed me to deliver it personally to Uncle Xiao. I was delayed along the way, which is why I’ve only just arrived.”

A trace of sympathy flickered in Village Head Zhao’s eyes, and he offered a few kind words.

He was familiar with the status of every household in the village.

Though Xiao Hu had only taken root in the village for about twenty years and rarely mingled with the other families—so Village Head Zhao didn’t know them as well as the older village surnames—he still knew the basics of their household.

Xiao Hu’s original wife had passed, and he’d remarried a woman surnamed Qin. With Xiao Hu now away, this young man seeking him wasn’t inappropriate.

But this young man wasn’t from their village. He had come empty-handed, and his parents were both deceased.

Village Head Zhao could easily have sent him away with a few words, especially given the freezing weather and his own reluctance to visit the Xiao home.

But he had a good impression of this unfamiliar youth. The boy’s features were upright, his tone modest and respectful, and Village Head Zhao, having nothing better to do, felt like chatting a bit more.

So he spoke warmly, asking Qi Beinan his age, and whether he had studied.

Qi Beinan chose his words carefully to earn favor. He gave his age and said, “My mother passed early. I studied under my father and was preparing to sit for the county exam to earn the rank of Tongsheng. Unfortunately, my father fell ill and passed, and I am in mourning—unable to sit the exam this year.”

Upon hearing that Qi Beinan not only studied under his father but had already been preparing for the exams, Village Head Zhao’s eyes lit up, and he grew even more fond of him.

It was no surprise. The imperial court highly valued scholars and provided generous stipends and privileges for the learned. That reverence trickled down—commoners saw scholars as remarkable.

Still, while everyone knew the benefits of education, not many could afford to pursue it.

With land and wealth consolidated in the hands of the powerful, even good tutors and learning materials were hard to come by.

Most rural families, even if well-off, could only send their sons to private school for a couple of years. Just learning to read and write was already impressive—let alone passing the imperial exams.

A youth like Qi Beinan, born to a xiucai and immersed in study from a young age, already had the heavens and earth working in his favor.

The more rare and difficult something was, the more it was cherished.

“My foolish son is about your age,” Village Head Zhao said with a chuckle, “also studying at the village school, but he’s not nearly as capable. Barely scratches out a few words like a dog crawling. Who knows when he’ll be lucky enough for a teacher to let him sit the exam.”

“You’re too modest, Village Head. You manage the affairs of this whole village so well—it’s clear your son won’t fall short.”

Qi Beinan, after offering a well-placed compliment, added, “My late father left behind some handwritten notes and copybooks from his years of teaching—he said they would be of use for the exams. Your son and I are of similar age; if Village Head wouldn’t mind, once I’m settled in, I’d be happy to open my trunk and gift him a few. Perhaps we can also exchange thoughts on our studies.”

“Mind? Of course not! If my foolish son could get his hands on the handwriting of a real xiucai, he’d be thanking you endlessly!”

Village Head Zhao was overjoyed and didn’t even pretend to decline politely—he accepted immediately.

Though he held some authority as village head, it was hard to come by useful study materials for his son among a bunch of rough farmers. Qi Beinan’s offering hit right at the heart of his desires.

Village Head Zhao immediately dropped his earlier laid-back manner, stood up, poured tea, and even offered his own dried snacks to Qi Beinan. After inviting him to rest his legs for a moment, he personally got up to escort him to the Xiao household.

Meanwhile, back at the Xiao residence, after watching Qi Beinan leave, Xiao Yuanbao hurriedly put down his broom and ran inside. Standing at the inner doorway, he told Qin Niazi that a strange boy had come to their home.

Qin Niazi was organizing the New Year supplies she had just purchased. She walked into the main hall and craned her neck to look outside, but saw no one.

She shot Xiao Yuanbao a sharp glance, scolding him for making excuses to slack off from sweeping.

Xiao Yuanbao, timid as he was, didn’t dare argue back.

Just as he was about to return outside to continue sweeping, voices came from the courtyard:

“Brother Xiao? Lady Qin? Are you home?”

From the inner room, Chao Ge’er’s brows lifted. “Sounds like the village head!”

He excitedly ran out to see.

Qin Niazi also recognized the voice, and a wave of unease rose in her chest.

Her man, a hunter, was the quiet type. Ever since his first wife passed, he’d grown even more withdrawn, spending long periods in the mountains. He didn’t socialize much with the other villagers—let alone have any special relationship with the well-connected village head that everyone else scrambled to curry favor with.

If the village head was here, it was probably about something important—and probably troublesome.

She set down what she was holding and headed outside, all the while thinking: they had less than two acres of land, and the land tax had already been paid early. And there hadn’t been any village meetings lately about collective work or water projects. What could this visit be about?

As everyone headed into the courtyard, Xiao Yuanbao, as always, stayed inside when guests came. He was shy around strangers and would hide and secretly watch as they spoke with Qin Niazi. Even when his own father came home from the mountains, he felt so distant at first that it took him half a day to warm up to him again.

Earlier, when Qi Beinan had arrived, he hadn’t run off—partly because he was surprised the stranger recognized him, and partly because the visitor didn’t look that old.

Between children, the sense of distance was always smaller than with adults.

Now, Xiao Yuanbao silently trailed behind Qin Niazi, staying just inside the hall. He hid behind the doorframe near the wall, peeking out to see what Uncle Zhao was doing at their home.

To his surprise, he saw Chao Ge’er opening the courtyard gate, and walking in with Village Head Zhao was the same young man who’d come earlier asking about his father.

The two entered the courtyard together.

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes went wide with surprise.

“There are people home, but the man of the house has gone up the mountain and hasn’t returned yet. Is there something you need, Village Head?” asked Qin Niazi.

She turned to Chao Ge’er. “Quick, fetch a stool for the village head.”

“No need for a stool. In this cold weather, with the New Year only a few days away, I didn’t expect Brother Xiao to still be out in the mountains.”

Though he already knew Xiao Hu wasn’t home, the village head pretended to ask so no one would suspect he had come deliberately while the man of the house was away.

“Well, can’t blame him,” he added. “Winter’s the prime time for hunting.”

After a bit of polite small talk, he noticed that Qin Niazi’s eyes had fallen on the young man beside him. Seizing the moment, he patiently introduced Qi Beinan to her.

He explained nearly everything he knew but avoided mentioning that Qi Beinan’s mother and Xiao Yuanbao’s mother had been close friends. Instead, he simply said Qi Beinan was an old acquaintance of the Xiao family, fearing that if Qin Niazi learned of the former closeness, she might feel slighted or give Qi Beinan a cold reception.

Qin Niazi was startled, her eyes widening. She was relieved that the village head wasn’t here to collect money—but she hadn’t expected, so close to the New Year, for some distant acquaintance to show up at her door with trunks and baggage.

She looked over Qi Beinan carefully. Though dressed simply in a cotton-lined robe of coarse gray cloth, his complexion was fair—nothing like the tanned, rugged look of a farm boy raised under the sun.

He bowed to her with proper decorum and called her “Auntie,” just as the village head had said a well-mannered scholar should.

Her own husband barely spoke even when he was home, and when he did, it was only to ask how the child was doing or whether anyone had come to cause trouble. He had never once mentioned such a connection.

Though she held some instinctive awe toward scholars, she couldn’t help but secretly wonder whether this boy might be some lovechild her man left behind outside.

A boy this grown, showing up out of nowhere—if he were here to collect some emotional debt, that would be a real headache.

“It’s unfortunate that my husband’s not home. I’ve never heard him speak of such an accomplished scholar’s family.”

She was being truthful—and also subtly making it clear that she didn’t want to recognize this so-called family connection.

The village head was already leaning toward favoring Qi Beinan. Seeing Qin Niazi not even giving him face after he personally brought the boy here, he couldn’t help but feel a bit displeased.

“You came late. It’s not strange that some family ties are unfamiliar,” he said. “But let’s be real—a scholar’s son, on the road during New Year’s, coming to cause trouble? If he really had bad intentions, why would he come to the home of a skilled hunter, of all people?”

“Young man came all this way—traveling in this cold is exhausting. Go tidy up a room and let him settle in first, then send someone to call Brother Xiao back.”

“It’s the holiday season—having relatives visit is a joyful thing. He’s been polite, calling you Auntie and doing no harm. You can’t just leave an old family acquaintance standing outside. If Brother Xiao comes home and finds out, he’ll surely be upset.”

Hearing the village head’s tone turn stern, Qin Niazi’s heart gave a jolt.

She forced a sheepish smile. Though she still held doubts about this unexpected young man, she couldn’t afford to offend the village head by refusing him at the door.

After all, the boy had been brought by the village head himself. If anything went wrong, at least she’d have someone to hold accountable.

“You’re right, Village Head—it’s my own foolishness. I’m just a simple village woman who’s never seen much of the world. My mind doesn’t always keep up.”

With a smile fixed on her face, Qin Niazi turned to Qi Beinan and apologized, inviting him in. She also thanked the village head for going through the trouble and asked him to come in for a bowl of hot soup.

Only then did the village head’s expression soften. He waved his hand, declining the invitation. It was nearly noon, and not the best time to linger in someone else’s home.

He turned to Qi Beinan and said, “Stay here and wait for a bit. I’ll send someone to the mountain to find Brother Xiao.”

“Thank you, Village Head. I’m truly grateful for you going to such trouble for my sake in this freezing weather.”

“It’s no trouble. When you’re free, come to my home to visit.”

Qi Beinan, knowing the village head was still thinking about the copybooks and calligraphy he’d mentioned, smiled and agreed.

As Qin Niazi watched the village head leave with light steps, she couldn’t help but think to herself—he sure seems fond of this young man.

He’d been all smiles while speaking to him. Anyone watching might think they were the ones related. The village head usually wasn’t this warm with anyone’s children.

Ordinary farmers like them kept their heads down and didn’t cause trouble. They rarely had any accomplishments worth mentioning and had no chance of interacting with county officials. People like that didn’t mean much to them—if the whip never lands on your back, you don’t know how hard it can hit.

But the village head, who had direct dealings with the county office, carried real weight in their eyes. He had authority, and folks feared him. They saw him as a minor official, the one who settled disputes and kept order with sharp judgment.

So now, seeing how favorably he treated Qi Beinan, she grew even more suspicious of the boy’s background—and didn’t dare be careless anymore.

Even after the village head left, she turned to Qi Beinan with a welcoming smile. “Look at me, blabbing away while you’re still holding all that luggage. Come now, let Auntie help you with your things. You must’ve been freezing out there…”

In the courtyard, Chao Ge’er had been eavesdropping, enjoying the excitement. He was bolder by nature, and seeing that the visitor was a family acquaintance, his eyes locked onto Qi Beinan’s trunk, wondering if it might contain some snacks or fun things to play with.

Qi Beinan politely responded to Qin Niazi, but his gaze had already landed on the small figure hiding behind the doorframe in the main hall.

He wanted to call Xiao Yuanbao over, but before he could say a word, Xiao Bao, seeing him entering the house with Qin Niazi, suddenly darted off, scurrying back to his own room.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

It was the middle of the twelfth lunar month—deep winter.

In the mountain village of Ling County, Linzhou, the courtyard of the Xiao family was covered in a layer of frost as white as sugar. The biting wind rattled the paper-covered windows.

Young Xiao Yuanbao was struggling to pull a pair of thick, clumsy gray cotton trousers over his short little legs.

The scrawny child had barely any flesh on him; his legs looked like peeled banana stems—pale, thin, and a bit soft.

Once he’d bundled himself up in the thick clothing, the skinny little boy finally looked a bit rounder.

He sniffled through his reddened nose and slid down from the kang bed to the cold ground.

The house was freezing like an ice cellar. The paper windows glowed with light—it was already late in the morning.

Worried, he hurried off in his thick pants to the kitchen, afraid he’d woken too late to help Qin Niazi start the fire, and that she’d be angry.

To his surprise, the kitchen was still quiet.

He peeked into the stove—only cold ashes lay inside. There were no signs that a fire had been lit, and he let out a quiet sigh of relief.

Suddenly, he remembered overhearing Qin Niazi and Chao Ge’er talking last night. With the New Year approaching, they said they needed to go to town to prepare for the festival.

Chao Ge’er mentioned wanting to eat fresh pork wontons at a street stall and buy firecrackers. They had probably really gone.

Xiao Yuanbao rubbed his cold hands. The chilblains on them itched and hurt badly. Scratching didn’t help—his little fingers were red and swollen like tiny clubs.

But his hollow belly, after only half a bowl of thin porridge last night, made him forget the pain in his hands. He stood on a small stool and opened all the pots on the stove—nothing but a pool of cold water.

He turned to check the cupboard, but it was locked from the outside.

Disappointed, Xiao Yuanbao carefully climbed down from the stool, not knowing how to fill his belly.

After thinking a bit, he ran to the storage room and soon came back happily with three small, gray dusty taro roots.

He washed them clean and, without peeling, dropped them into a pot of boiling water. Soft and starchy, the taro would be tasty and filling.

After lighting the fire in the stove, he quickly washed the taro and placed them into the pot while standing on the stool, then hurried back down to warm his frozen red hands by the flames.

Now that there was fire in the kitchen, even with the wind seeping in from the walls, it was much warmer than before.

Taro needed time to cook. Xiao Yuanbao added two logs into the stove, then used the heavy iron tongs to stir the fire, which immediately flared up.

Only then did he go to open the door that led to the courtyard. The heavy wooden door creaked open, and the icy wind rushed in, making him gasp and hug his arms tightly.

The courtyard was frosted white, shining brightly but biting cold.

On the thin frost were two sets of footprints—one large, one small—leading out the gate. Sure enough, Qin Niazi and Chao Ge’er had gone out.

Shrinking his neck against the cold, Xiao Yuanbao grabbed a broom made of bundled bamboo and swept a path through the courtyard.

The wind had reddened his little face, almost to the point of chapping.

The chickens and ducks in the shed squawked loudly when they heard the broom outside.

Xiao Yuanbao put down the broom, let the poultry out, and scattered some grain husks to feed them.

Once he was done bustling around the yard, the taro was cooked soft and ready.

After eating his simple breakfast and still not seeing Qin Niazi or Chao Ge’er return, he scooped up some charcoal into a brazier and brought it into his own room.

Occasionally, loud firecrackers could be heard from the village outside—there was a hint of New Year in the air.

Xiao Yuanbao sat on a small stool at the doorway, holding the brazier close, quietly staring into the yard like a little guard dog.

He counted the days in his head—only half a month until the New Year.

Father would definitely be home before the Little New Year. He just didn’t know which day.

His father was a hunter—with prominent brow bones and round eyes, and rarely spoke. He looked fierce.

Xiao Yuanbao was a little afraid.

But when father went into the mountains, he was often gone as long as the number of fingers on both hands, he thought.

He didn’t dare ask Qin Niazi when father would return. She’d snap that a bear had killed him and he wasn’t coming back, complaining that he kept bringing it up and it annoyed her.

Chao Ge’er also said there were not only bears in the mountains, but also tigers and wolves—creatures that would bite and eat people, leaving not even bones behind.

Thinking of all this, Xiao Yuanbao worriedly rested his head on his knees.

Suddenly, there was a plop—something had landed near his foot.

Before he could look, bang!—a firecracker exploded, bits of paper flew everywhere, and a puff of foul smoke rushed up.

Startled, Xiao Yuanbao fell backward from the stool and landed on his rear, nearly knocking over the brazier.

His ears buzzed with the shock.

“Hahaha!”

“Mother, look how scared he is!”

A boy ran into the yard, wearing a fuzzy ring of rabbit fur around his neck. He was at least a head taller than Xiao Yuanbao.

Seeing him on the ground, he burst out laughing, the firecrackers and fire striker trembling in his hands.

“Boys love firecrackers! You little sissy are brave, aren’t you?”

Behind him came a plump woman in her early thirties, arms full of shopping bags.

Her hair was neatly combed and pinned with a simple silver hairpin. Her brows arched slightly upward—she looked energetic and well-kept.

These were Chao Ge’er and Qin Niazi, as Xiao Yuanbao called them.

Seeing Xiao Yuanbao slowly getting up from the ground, tears brimming in his eyes, Qin Niazi scolded Chao Ge’er lightly, but there was no real reprimand in her tone.

She questioned the boy standing under the eaves, “Did you feed the chickens and ducks?”

Xiao Yuanbao sniffled and nodded, speaking softly, “I did.”

Qin Niazi said nothing, her eyes scanning the courtyard.

“This little path you swept—how’s anyone supposed to walk through that? Since you swept, why only bother with two swipes?”

Xiao Yuanbao pressed his lips together and quietly went to fetch the broom again.

Only then did Qin Niazi slowly twist her waist and head back into the house. “So hard to teach. Being a stepmother isn’t easy~”

Wang Chao (Chao Ge’er), tired from setting off firecrackers and seeing that he only had two left, decided to save them to light with the village boys during New Year. He gave up on teasing Xiao Yuanbao further.

He walked over and pulled the brazier over to his own feet. After riding the ox cart home, both he and his mother were stiff from the cold, and the warmth of the fire instantly made them feel much more comfortable.

“It’s year-end now, and the city’s really lively. Street performers line the roads, one after another—you’ve got sword swallowers, strongmen smashing stones on their chests, trained monkeys jumping through fire hoops, parrots mimicking human speech—so many tricks you couldn’t take your eyes off them.”

“Guess what I ate in the city today?”

Wang Chao sat on the small stool, taking the spot where Xiao Yuanbao had been sitting, and looked at the little boy sweeping frost.

Xiao Yuanbao glanced at him cautiously, holding his broom tightly. Seeing that the firecrackers were put away, he relaxed a little.

Wang Chao didn’t care if he responded or not and continued, “A big bowl of fresh pork wontons! The vendor was really skilled—the wontons were big and stuffed full, looked like little ingots. The broth was made from simmered pork bones. A hot bowl—so savory and fragrant, you’d want to drink it dry.”

“I had a whole bowl of wontons. Mother had four scallion meat buns. We bought a stick of candied hawthorn—coated in syrup so sweet it’d rot your teeth, and the hawthorn wasn’t even sour. Then Mother went to Wang Si’s shop and bought dried dates and peach meat pastries.”

Xiao Yuanbao quietly listened to Wang Chao talk about all the food from the city.

He had filled up earlier on taro and wasn’t hungry, but hearing all that delicious-sounding food made him crave it anyway.

But he knew—even if Qin Niazi had brought back snacks, let alone eat them, he likely wouldn’t even get to see them.

Wang Chao stared at Xiao Yuanbao, pleased to see him involuntarily licking his lips and swallowing. That was exactly what he wanted—to make him hungry and envious just by hearing about it.

And not only had he made Xiao Yuanbao crave it, he’d gotten himself hungry again too.

He pushed aside the brazier, grinning, and happily went into the house to beg his mother for snacks.

Soon, Xiao Yuanbao heard voices coming from the room:

“You greedy brat, nothing stays uneaten for even a day.”

“Eat it in the house. If someone sees you out there munching, they’ll gossip…”

The bamboo broom scraped against the flagstones with a brushing sound—the frost had melted a fair bit.

Xiao Yuanbao lowered his head and stared at his toes, sweeping slowly. His little hands were stiff and cold, barely able to grip the broom.

He wondered too—when father came home, would he bring back a bag of sugar-roasted chestnuts…

“Xiao Bao?”

Suddenly, someone called from above. Xiao Yuanbao froze.

His delicate brows furrowed. The gentle voice and affectionate tone triggered the vague memory of a face that had long since blurred.

His nose twitched with sudden heat.

He quickly lifted his head—only to see a stranger’s face.

Xiao Yuanbao blinked, confused, staring at the teenager standing at the gate with a bundle slung over his shoulder and a long trunk in hand.

The boy was tall, hair neatly tied back, and his eyes shone brightly.

Though Xiao Yuanbao rarely left the village, he still recognized most folks around. This person—he had definitely never seen before.

He was timid around strangers.

Gripping his broom tighter, Xiao Yuanbao instinctively wanted to run and hide—but his legs felt like they were filled with lead. Heart pounding in fear, he looked toward the house for help.

But the two inside seemed not to have heard the noise outside.

Seeing no adults coming out, Xiao Yuanbao’s heart thumped in panic. He warily kept his eyes on the young man locked outside the gate.

“Who are you looking for? How do you know me?”

Qi Beinan hadn’t been completely sure—until he heard that soft voice, no louder than a mosquito’s.

Now he was certain he hadn’t come to the wrong place.

He looked at the boy hugging the broom, bundled up round and small.

So obviously dazed, with a voice soft and sticky like glutinous rice, yet his big eyes tried their best to look fierce—it was honestly endearing.

He had never kept a portrait before, so this was Qi Beinan’s first time seeing what Xiao Yuanbao looked like as a child.

The boy’s features hadn’t fully matured—still a ways off from adulthood—but the resemblance was there.

Qi Beinan hadn’t expected to see him so soon. A strange mix of tenderness and sorrow suddenly surged in his chest.

Looking at the little Xiao Bao, his emotions were tangled, and his eyes shimmered faintly with moisture.

All the exhaustion from his long, bumpy journey from Qiu County vanished in an instant.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

T/N note: This world has three genders: men, women, and gers (Ge’er – look like men but smaller than men and could give birth).

In the 35th year of the Kaide reign, it was the seventh month. The morning glow had faded from atop the palace walls, replaced by blinding sunlight as morning court had just ended.

A line of officials dressed in court robes and holding their ceremonial tablets filed out of the main hall in an orderly procession.

The layered robes were heavy and cumbersome, and in the increasingly stifling heat, the backs of the officials had already started to sweat.

Fortunately, the matter of illegal salt trade in the southeast had been resolved today. The official in charge handled it well, which greatly pleased the emperor.

Although no promotion landed on their own heads, the fact that the man on the dragon throne was in a good mood made the court session easier for all.

At that moment, several officials walked in groups of three or five, speaking in low voices, debating whether to go to Anhua Pavilion to try the new seasonal fruits, or to Hantian Pavilion for chilled drinks to escape the heat.

Before a decision was made, a cool breeze swept past, and a tall, upright figure strode quickly through it.

“Lord Qi assisted His Excellency in properly handling the private salt matter. Not only was he personally recommended by His Excellency, even His Majesty praised him. He was promoted in one leap from a fifth-rank regional salt tax supervisor to the Ministry of Personnel. He’s barely in his thirties—his future is limitless!”

“With such a rise, yet he shows hardly a hint of joy. These young men nowadays—it’s hard to tell what they’re thinking.”

Several officials looked toward the figure walking away. His bearing was striking.

His brow ridge was prominent, and he was handsome—not exuding youthful exuberance, but rather shadowed by a solemn melancholy that made him seem distant and hard to approach.

“Tsk. That reminds me—I’ve heard that Lord Qi’s husband is in poor health, almost at the end of his rope. Don’t know if it’s true.”

“It’s not a rumor. Lord Xiao’s residence is in the same alley as mine. Physicians come and go often. Lord Qi always sees them out personally, courteous but never looking at ease.”

“He’s risen from the provinces to this position, and yet still holds steadfast to his ailing spouse. Truly a devoted man…”

Qi Beinan exited the imperial city and boarded a carriage just outside Donghua Gate.

He had just been promoted. In recognition of his efforts in the salt case, the emperor granted him three days’ rest before reporting to his new post at the Ministry of Personnel.

As such, he didn’t have to go with the other officials to handle routine affairs today.

Still, he ought to pay a visit to the Duke Jingguo’s estate—His Excellency had offered him great help in the salt affair.

But Qi Beinan lifted his chin and instructed the driver to take him home first.

His mind was on someone dear; he had no headspace to tend to the details of officialdom.

Last night, Xiao Yuanbao had coughed and been breathless most of the night. Only near dawn did he fall into a fragile sleep. Seeing his increasingly emaciated frame and pale complexion, Qi Beinan had gone to court full of worry.

Several doctors had come over the past months, yet not one offered a diagnosis that gave any peace of mind. It all felt like a damp, dark nightmare.

Cramped inside the small carriage, Qi Beinan was overwhelmed with a restlessness he couldn’t contain. He lifted the curtain slightly and urged the driver to hurry.

By the time they reached his residence, his inner robe was completely soaked in sweat.

Qi Beinan dismounted with a heavy heart, eyes cast down. Just as he stepped onto the ground, a faint scent of mint and orchid drifted to his nose.

A neatly folded handkerchief landed gently on his forehead, dabbing away the sweat.

“It’s getting hot. The carriage service has been busy, but the new one we ordered finally arrived today. The windows are much larger than this one—you won’t be as stifled heading to court anymore.”

Qi Beinan looked up and met a pair of soft, gentle eyes.

Xiao Yuanbao was not breathtakingly beautiful.

His hair was fine, brows light. His looks were warm and suited to domestic life—comforting, easy on the eyes.

His speech was calm and measured, soothing to the heart.

Only now, illness had left him so thin his features were almost unrecognizable.

“You…”

Qi Beinan was momentarily too shocked to speak.

Seeing this man—tidy in appearance, even with a faint flush on his face—tenderly wiping his sweat, so different from the frail, barely-breathing person he’d seen before heading out, it felt like seeing a ghost.

He reached out and caught the wrist before him.

If not for the fact that the wrist was so bony it seemed like it might break with the slightest pressure, Qi Beinan might have believed time had reversed, taking him back to his early days in office.

Back then, Xiao Yuanbao was still healthy. Each day he waited at the gate to welcome Qi Beinan home from court, just like now.

The two of them would return to the house hand in hand, Qi Beinan chatting about trivial court matters, Xiao Yuanbao speaking of household affairs.

Now, seeing him up from bed and full of energy again, Qi Beinan felt a joy that was hard to describe, yet unease crept in from the edges.

Noticing Qi Beinan’s bewilderment and worry, Xiao Yuanbao smiled and said, “The new physician is quite skilled. I drank the decoction you made this morning, and I already feel much better.”

“Not only is my spirit lifted, but I have strength again. Walking is easier. I sent someone to the market early this morning for fresh produce, and even made a few of your favorite dishes.”

He continued gently, “It’s been a while since I’ve been in the kitchen—don’t know if I’ve gotten rusty. Come in and see if it still tastes alright.”

Qi Beinan, hearing that he felt better, was about to inquire in detail, but upon hearing he not only got out of bed but cooked, panic crept in.

These past days, there had been no new physician. The medicine was from the old prescription.

Forcing a smile, he grasped Xiao Yuanbao’s cool hand and swallowed the tightness in his throat. “Then I’m lucky to have such a good meal today.”

He walked with his beloved toward the house. “After so long at court, I’m completely empty inside. Let’s wash up and eat—alright?.”

Qi Beinan changed into a set of light, casual robes.

On the carved peachwood round table, the dishes were already laid out.

There was a plate of chilled sliced pork with dipping sauce, a dish of pickled snow vegetables with tender bamboo shoots, and another of braised eggplant with bitter herbs.

On the side, tofu dressed with sesame oil, and spicy marinated jade tofu.

These were all simple homestyle dishes they often had during his years as a local official.

Qi Beinan dried his hands and sat down at the table, a glimmer of moisture flickering in his eyes.

He didn’t dare look up at Xiao Yuanbao. His voice came out stiff and dry.

“I’ve been craving pickled snow vegetables. The kitchen hasn’t made them in ages.”

Xiao Yuanbao was about to reply but couldn’t help the cough that rose in his throat.

He quickly covered his mouth with a handkerchief, suppressing the cough.

When he moved the cloth away, a striking red blotch in the shape of a crabapple blossom had bloomed across it.

He calmly folded the handkerchief and tucked it into his sleeve, lifting a hand to stop Qi Beinan from reaching to pat his back, and instead said gently, “Then eat more today. I’ll make it for you often from now on.”

“These pickles are from Wu’s shop in the north of the city. First time buying from them—let’s see how they taste. If they’re good, we can buy from them again.”

Xiao Yuanbao picked up a pair of chopsticks and placed a serving of snow vegetables and bamboo shoots into Qi Beinan’s bowl. The tips of the shoots had been trimmed, leaving the crunchy part extra tender.

Qi Beinan ate the vegetables with his rice. The flavors were just as good as always, yet everything tasted like wax in his mouth. “The taste is fine, but not quite as good as the ones we used to pickle ourselves back in Linzhou.”

Xiao Yuanbao said, “Then when we get the chance, we’ll buy some fresh greens and make our own. I saw two big empty jars in the kitchen that aren’t being used.”

Qi Beinan knew there likely wouldn’t be such a chance again. But hearing Xiao Yuanbao speak like this, it almost made life feel peaceful again. “Alright. We’ll go together then.”

Xiao Yuanbao smiled. “You just got promoted. How would you have time for such trivial things?”

“Farming and food are the foundations of life. Eating and drinking are the most important of all. How could that be trivial? Even if I don’t have the time, I’ll make time—besides, I enjoy going with you.”

“Alright~ whatever you say.”

Xiao Yuanbao thought for a moment. “Then we should go on a day off. Only early in the morning can we get the freshest vegetables. If we go after court, what’s left won’t be any good.”

Qi Beinan picked up a bit of vegetable and placed it in Xiao Yuanbao’s bowl. “I have the next few days off. Isn’t that just perfect?”

The two of them exchanged a smile.

And so they tossed aside formalities at the table, discussing plans for their three days off—what to eat, what to buy, what to use—and ate together for quite a while before finalizing things.

After the meal, drowsiness set in, and they retreated to the back courtyard to cool off.

The afternoon sun was bright.

In the courtyard, banana trees stood against the wall, their broad leaves a vivid green. Two rows of bamboo cast dappled shadows.

Qi Beinan gently fanned Xiao Yuanbao, who was reclining on a cooling chair.

They both looked toward the basin of bowl lotus in the pavilion, where vibrant flower buds were starting to emerge.

“They say it’s a southern variety, blooms easily. When I saw its yellowing leaves on the street before, I didn’t believe it.”

Xiao Yuanbao turned his head to look at Qi Beinan. “It looked so withered. Why did you still bring it home?”

“It was an old woman’s stall. I spent a few coins for one plant, thinking I’d bring it back for you to tend.”

Xiao Yuanbao’s eyes curved in a smile.

“I don’t know anything about tending flowers. I just had someone water it, and it grew on its own.”

“You say you don’t, but when we moved into this garden, the back courtyard was nothing but some dogtail grass and a pond full of stagnant water. Now the water’s clear and the flowers bloom. Doesn’t look like someone who doesn’t know what they’re doing.”

“Lord Qi always knows how to flatter.”

Xiao Yuanbao gazed at the lush summer scenery, chatting idly with Qi Beinan.

Though they had been together for nearly ten years, he thought, an afternoon like this—a day like this—was something he could never get enough of.

Many official wives in the capital mocked him for being uneducated, illiterate, a fool.

But in that moment, it was as if he suddenly understood the weight and beauty of the phrase a lifetime of companionship.

He smiled faintly. He probably wasn’t as foolish as they said. Having figured it out, the thick haze that had long pressed on his chest suddenly lifted.

Only, for some reason, his body began to feel a bit weightless—maybe it was sleepiness creeping in. He felt overwhelmingly tired.

Had he come to this understanding earlier, thought less, worried less, perhaps his frail body wouldn’t have declined to this point.

“In a few days I’ll buy some more plants, fill up this courtyard even more. It’ll be even nicer to relax here then.”

“But what to choose?”

“Jasmine? Or magnolia? Maybe jasmine—it smells nice and keeps the mosquitoes away.”

Qi Beinan kept talking, slowly and steadily, like a nagging old tutor.

After a while, he realized Xiao Yuanbao hadn’t answered. He lowered his gaze to the reclining chair.

“Xiao Bao.”

Qi Beinan called softly.

The man on the chair had his eyes gently closed. His lashes cast a shadow over his cheeks.

His expression was peaceful, as if asleep—but so still it held not a trace of life.

The only sound that answered Qi Beinan was the rustling of wind through the garden.

The fan in Qi Beinan’s hand fell to the ground with a thud.

He already knew, deep in his heart, that everything today had been a final flicker of vitality before death. But now that the truth was right in front of him, he was still stunned into senselessness.

The nightmare had finally become reality.

Qi Beinan knelt on the ground, his face buried against the chest of Xiao Yuanbao, who lay peacefully on the cooling chair. His back trembled as he whispered in a voice full of grief:

“Xiao Bao… don’t go, don’t go… If you leave, I won’t have a home anymore…”

The sunlight remained bright, and the bamboo shadows danced.

That year, on that afternoon, the just-over-twenty-year-old Xiao Yuanbao turned into a breeze brushing past the temples in summer and quietly drifted away.

…

The crackling sound of firecrackers burst through the alleyways, leaping over white walls and gray tiles, falling into the ears of those inside.

During the New Year, firecrackers were set off to ward off evil and bring blessings for the coming year; for birthdays and weddings, they brought festivity and cheer.

And when someone passed away, firecrackers were lit all the same.

Ever since his thirties, Qi Beinan could no longer bear to hear the sound of firecrackers.

The explosive bursts, the shaking echoes, always seemed to peel open the dead-still surface of his heart—

Forcing him to recall the moment of that death, the drumming and firecrackers that filled the sky.

Though many years had passed since then, the overwhelming emotions that had once brought him to his knees would still rush into every corner of his body, draining all his strength, as if that scene were being replayed before him again.

For many years after turning thirty, he had drifted about numbly, tirelessly solving the emperor’s troubles.

He was the people’s beloved magistrate, the court’s trusted minister. No one dared set off the firecrackers he loathed in front of him.

So when the sharp, unmistakable sound of firecrackers once again filled his ears, Qi Beinan was startled—startled to wonder where they were coming from.

He paused, then understood. Perhaps these firecrackers had been lit for him.

He was old now, his temples gray, his body wrecked, lying on his sickbed for some time already.

While his mind was still clear, he had told the household of disciples that it was alright to light firecrackers after he died.

At his age, with this body, dying quietly while lying down was hardly a surprise.

And there was no real sorrow in it—ever since that person had left all those years ago, he had felt little attachment to this world.

But then… why could he still hear firecrackers after death?

Qi Beinan couldn’t understand. His chest ached with a familiar, dull pain brought on by the sound, prompting him to instinctively lift a hand to cover it.

As his palm pressed to his chest, he suddenly opened his eyes.

In that instant, he was shocked to realize—

He was in a dim, small room, lying on a narrow wooden bed.

By the faint light seeping through the paper-covered window, he could make out an old, worn wooden table.

On it were tall stacks of dog-eared books, coarse hog-bristle brushes, and poor-quality ink stones.

An old man’s mind holds too many memories. Qi Beinan stared in a daze for a moment before realizing—

This was the small home where he had lived with his father in Qiu County when he was young.

Thinking of this, he slowly raised his hands—fingers long and slender, skin still tight and smooth. They were the hands of a boy not yet grown.

He got out of bed and saw that the cloth shoes by the bedside were no more than five or six inches long.

A realization struck him.

He rushed to open the door. With a creak, a bleak wind blew in, making his trouser legs flutter. The sharpness of the chill made it unmistakably real—this was no dream.

The firecrackers were still popping outside. It must have been near the New Year.

In the county town, the holiday atmosphere always came earlier and stronger than in the villages.

“Father!”

Qi Beinan called out with emotion, running to the other end of the small courtyard.

But the two white lanterns hanging under the eaves slowly cooled his joy.

The courtyard was lifeless and bleak, shrouded in the gray desolation of the winter month. Aside from the cutting wind, once the firecrackers outside stopped, the only sound left was the echo of his own footsteps.

If he remembered correctly, this should be the fifteenth year of the Kaide reign—he was ten years old.

This was the year his father passed away. He arranged the funeral by himself and stayed here alone to observe mourning.

They weren’t originally from Qiu County—Qi Beinan and his father had moved from Yunshui Village in Jiangzhou when he was five.

Father Qi was a refined scholar who had once earned the title of xiucai and relied on it to make a modest living.

At the beginning of the Kaide era, when the new emperor ascended the throne, he valued scholars greatly. Even low-ranking xiucai were granted land and a monthly stipend.

Father Qi had no great ambition. After marrying, he opened a private school in the village to make a living through teaching.

The couple was loving, and the villagers respected them. Life had once been warm and harmonious.

But fate is fickle. In the fifth year of Kaide, when Qi Beinan was born, his mother died in childbirth. Father Qi was devastated.

His in-laws, seeing that the child was young and weak, tried to marry his wife’s younger sister to him as a second wife.

Such things were common.

But Father Qi knew well that during his wife’s girlhood, her parents had treated her coldly. After marriage, they frequently visited, supposedly out of concern, but in truth asking for money and goods.

Before the coffin was even in the ground, the in-laws were already proposing a second marriage.

It didn’t seem like they were thinking of the child at all—more like they were eyeing the Qi family’s comfortable life, not wanting wealth to pass into another family’s hands.

Father Qi was a deeply affectionate man. He had no intention of remarrying. Even if he had, he would never have considered his wife’s younger sister.

He had always been gentle, but on this matter, he refused them firmly.

Even so, the in-laws did not give up. They kept coming around, pestering again and again.

Five years passed like this. Eventually, Father Qi could no longer endure it. Seeing that his child had grown, he steeled himself and secretly sold off their possessions, taking Qi Beinan far away to settle in Qiu County, cutting all ties with the family behind them.

Though they had no close relatives or friends in Qiu County, it was peaceful.

Father Qi continued teaching to make a living, and under his influence, Qi Beinan read many books.

Years later, after Father Qi passed away, somehow the family from Yunshui Village caught wind of the news and actually came looking.

They assumed Qi Beinan, being young, would be easy to manipulate. They spoke sweetly, claiming they’d come out of pity for an orphan after hearing of his father’s passing, pretending they were there to look after him—when in fact, they intended to take over the house.

Qi Beinan had always matured early. Though they’d lived in Qiu County for five years, he had never forgotten the reason they moved in the first place. So he politely asked them to leave.

Seeing he wouldn’t be swayed by kind words, the family revealed their true faces.

They pointed at his father’s memorial tablet and cursed him, blaming him for killing their daughter, claiming he ruined their younger daughter’s prospects by leaving her an old maid—demanding compensation.

They threw a tantrum and refused to leave.

Furious, Qi Beinan reported them to the authorities. His father had been a xiucai, a scholar, and a teacher with a decent reputation in the area.

The county magistrate, understanding the whole story, sympathized with Qi Beinan as a child—but domestic affairs are the hardest to judge.

The family hadn’t committed any major crimes—just greedy and unreasonable at most—so the court could only send them back to Jiangzhou.

After that, Qi Beinan also left Qiu County. He journeyed across mountains and rivers, seeking knowledge everywhere he went.

At seventeen, he passed the provincial exam. By twenty, he earned an official post.

That year, he felt that having established himself, he was now ready to start a family.

So he took the keepsake token and sought out the fiancé who had been betrothed to him since childhood—Xiao Yuanbao.

Xiao Bao’s mother and Qi Beinan’s mother had been close as sisters, and in their deep bond, had once agreed that if they each had children, they would become in-laws.

Though they had never formally married off one side to the other, the two families remained in contact even after marriage—until Qi Beinan’s mother passed away.

When Qi Beinan was four, Xiao Bao’s mother came to visit, carrying a baby in her arms. He didn’t understand what the adults discussed, only vaguely remembered how happy his father had been that day.

He had told him that the baby in swaddling clothes would one day be his husband, and told him to hold him.

Later, when father and son moved away from Jiangzhou, they still kept in contact with the Xiao family through occasional letters. But within a couple of years, they heard that Xiao Bao’s mother had also passed away.

Father Qi grieved for a long time upon hearing the news. He urged his son to study diligently, to earn titles and one day take good care of his betrothed, who had also lost his mother at only three years old.

A year later they learned that Xiao Bao’s father had remarried. By then, Father Qi was already bedridden—it was Qi Beinan who sat at his bedside and read the letter aloud.

Afterward, Qi Beinan wandered from place to place, and though he remembered the Xiao family’s address and wrote, he never received a reply.

He didn’t know whether it was because he moved around too much and the letter never reached its destination, or because his young fiancé couldn’t read and had no way to respond.

After all the twists and turns, the two met again—sixteen years after that first meeting.

Xiao Yuanbao was sixteen then, frail and pale, quiet and timid.

Seeing him stirred something tender in Qi Beinan’s heart.

But upon learning of the engagement, Xiao Bao’s stepmother actually complained that Xiao Yuanbao’s health was poor and wouldn’t last long—trying to marry off her own biological son instead.

At that moment, Qi Beinan knew that his fiancé, having lost his mother so young, must not have had an easy life. He regretted not finding him sooner.

Married life afterward was relatively smooth. The two got along well and shared deep affection.

Having spent half his life wandering, Qi Beinan cherished this regained home with everything he had.

But Xiao Yuanbao’s health was never good and couldn’t withstand constant moving around. In those early years of Qi Beinan’s career, court duties kept him busy, and they spent more time apart than together.

He always thought, once he was promoted, once things were stable, everything would be fine. They wouldn’t have to part anymore.

But time has its limits—not everything can endure the wait.

Thinking of this, Qi Beinan felt a sharp ache in his chest.

Suddenly, he shook off his thoughts and rushed back into the house.

He opened the hidden compartment beneath the desk and carefully took out a square wooden box. The lid, wiped clean, opened to reveal a cloud-patterned silver lock, meant to be worn on a cord around the neck.

Looking at the familiar silver lock, his gaze softened. He brushed his fingers gently across its surface. In the next moment, his eyes regained their resolve.

This time, he would no longer wander from place to place in search of knowledge.

This time, he would go to him early—before it was too late.

˙✧˖°🎓 ༘⋆｡ ˚

About half an hour later, Zhou Su saw the message as soon as she got home.

[Zhou Su: Are you kidding me?! I just got home!!!]

Twenty minutes later, Bai Yi and Ji Zhixin also reported their safe arrival.

[Bai Yi: !!!]
[Ji Zhixin: ……]

After sending the message, Lu Yao didn’t pay it any further attention. Resting her head on the table, she closed her eyes slightly, thinking the little one and the unidentified furball might wake up soon.

The table was warm, with a fleece blanket spread over it, making it particularly cozy. Lu Yao, having not rested well for days, soon drifted off into a light sleep.

…

She didn’t know how much time had passed when Lu Yao felt a slight tickling sensation at her fingertips and vaguely heard familiar whimpering sounds.

“Prprpr—”
“Prprprprpr—”

Something wet touched her fingertips. Lu Yao opened her eyes and froze.

A gray-black furball was nestled by her hand, diligently licking her fingers.

Its small head poked out, ears perked up, and its fluffy fur fluffed out. Its features were rather delicate—it seemed to be a puppy or wolf cub.

Lu Yao gently poked it, but it didn’t show any fear, continuing to lie still on the ground.

Guessing it might be hungry, she took out a bag of chicken breast, cooked it, shredded it into fine strips, and placed them on a small plate with some warm water in a bottle cap.

The little creature was indeed starving. Its furry head buried in the dish, it ate noisily, much like a little piglet.

After eating, it moved to the bottle cap and lapped up the water. Its tiny pink tongue looked particularly dainty as it drank.

…

“Gurgle—”

Lu Yao looked up. The little one bundled in the fleece blanket seemed to have woken up and was now trembling under the covers.

Lu Yao said, “Don’t be scared. I’m Lu Yao. I found you and your pup in the snow.”

“It’s a snow wolf!” The little one suddenly poked its head out from under the blanket and emphasized loudly.

“Gurgle—”

The little one clutched its stomach with both hands, its face slightly red.

It was smaller than any Little Person Lu Yao had seen before, probably only three or four centimeters tall. On its left brow bone was a black beast-horn mark, and a pair of gray-white wolf ears peeked out from its black hair.

This Little Person bore two types of markings, suggesting it might be a mixed-blood.

Just as the Xia Guang Tribe had slightly reddish hair tips and the Luo Xiong Tribe had beast ears, Little People from different tribes often carried unique traits.

Lu Yao speculated, as this was her first time encountering someone with dual markings.

This Little Person was likely still a child. To journey alone to Thorn Valley, unaware even of how to cocoon, hinted at some unusual circumstances.

The sky outside remained pitch black. Lu Yao glanced at the time—6:21 a.m.

She stood up. “Stay here with the snow wolf. Don’t move. I’ll get you something to eat.”

She reheated the leftover steak and pasta from last night in the air fryer, which only took a few minutes.

Bringing the plate back, the aroma filled the room.

The Little One lay with its head resting on the snow wolf’s belly, clearly too weak from hunger to move.

Lu Yao used scissors to cut the pasta into small pieces and piled them on the plate, along with a few slices of steak with a bit of fat along the edges. She pushed the plate in front of the Little One. “Eat.”

The Little One leaned forward, sniffed the food, and picked up a piece of pasta. After tasting it, he immediately bent over, grabbed the plate, and started devouring it.

Lu Yao poured some warm water and handed it over when he finished eating. While the Little One drank, she refilled the plate with more pasta.

It wasn’t until he finished three full plates of pasta that the Little One lay contentedly on the table, his belly round and full, with a ring of oil around his mouth.

Lu Yao wiped his mouth with a tissue. The Little One turned his head shyly.

His eyes, dark and shining, looked up at her. “Are you a god?”

Lu Yao blinked, surprised. “What?”

The naive Little One reached into his chest pocket and pulled out a few crumpled fliers from the inn. “They all came here, and when they left, they were smiling.”

He couldn’t read, so he could only interpret the images on the fliers in his own way. To him, this place must be the legendary Shenmu Tribe where the gods granted wishes.

Lu Yao picked up the pink hooded cloak. “Did you find this too?”

The Little One snatched the cloak back, hugging it tightly, and nodded vigorously. “That day, I was really sad. I hadn’t found any prey after searching all day. But on my way home, I found a big bag full of food. Then, as I neared home, I found this soft piece of fur.”

That bag of food had helped him and his snow wolf survive the long, food-scarce days of the cold Twilight Moon season.

Because of that, he often revisited the area, hoping for another stroke of luck, and that’s when he found the inn’s flyer.

What an unexpectedly winding tale for a single bundle of items. Lu Yao chuckled wryly. “So, why did you come looking for me?”

The Little One answered earnestly, “I’m Heici. I came all the way from Stone Valley to ask you to heal my snow wolf’s legs.”

The snow wolf, full from its meal, crawled feebly to Heici’s side, resting its head on his legs before closing its eyes contentedly.

Lu Yao asked, “What happened to its legs?”

Heici shook his head. “It wasn’t injured—it was born weak and abandoned by its parents. I was alone too, so I took it in.”

Lu Yao was momentarily stunned. “How old are you?”

Heici replied, “I don’t remember.”

“And your parents?”

Heici sighed deeply. “They got so tired they fell asleep. I buried them in the earth.”

Lu Yao chose not to press further. Instead, she gently picked up the wolf pup and examined its legs.

The snow wolf’s hind legs were limp, unable to support its body.

Its tiny size made Lu Yao cautious about exerting too much force.

After a sigh, she decided to try the safest option—light magic.

A soft, warm white light slowly emanated from her fingertips, transferring into the snow wolf’s legs.

The pup began to whine, its cries growing softer, and then—almost imperceptibly—a shift.

It suddenly stood up.

Confused by the sudden change, the snow wolf tilted its head before spinning in circles, trying to bite its own tail.

Heici lunged forward to hug it, burying his small face in the wolf’s fluffy fur. His muffled voice was thick with emotion. “It’s okay now. It’s okay!”

…

At 7:20 a.m., before the sky had fully brightened, several familiar luxury cars pulled onto the small road leading to the shopping district.

Minutes later, the inn’s front door was flung open with “forceful enthusiasm.”

Bai Yi and Zhou Su stood at the entrance, panting.

“Boss, where’s the guest?!”

Lu Yao gave them a sympathetic look. “Just left.”

Bai Yi & Zhou Su: “…”

From behind came Ji Zhixin’s leisurely voice. “You two rushed past me. Why not just go in?”

Bai Yi clenched her fists. “I should have drifted here last night to take a look!”

Zhou Su slumped to the ground, nearly in tears. She had been thinking about this all night and woke up before six in the morning.

Since her electric scooter was still in the shopping district, Bai Yi had called to offer a ride.

They arrived early enough—but apparently, fate had other plans.

The three adults, looking like kids who didn’t get their favorite toy, radiated palpable disappointment.

Lu Yao cleared her throat. “All right, all right. He went out hunting and will be back later.”

Heici’s bundle had been lost along the way, leaving him without anything to pay for the treatment.

Although Lu Yao had said it wasn’t necessary, Heici insisted on going hunting, promising to return with suitable game.

Lu Yao had reminded him, “Before nightfall, whether or not you catch anything, you must come back to the inn.”

The latest he would return was by nightfall.

The three staff members: “!!!”

…

Evening.

Heici stood at the door. “Lu Yao, I’m back.”

The crisp sound of the doorbell rang out. The three staff members, who had been building with blocks by the windowsill, shot to their feet but were immediately stopped by Lu Yao’s gesture.

They carefully stood up, tilting their bodies to peek cautiously.

Lu Yao walked to the door and said to Heici, “You’re right on time. Dinner’s almost ready.”

Heici stepped inside, holding two tiny pink piglets. “I found a nest of red pigs.”

It was Lu Yao’s first time seeing red piglets. Difficult to describe, but they were absolutely miniature, wriggling and squealing as Heici cradled them in his arms.

“They’re so cute!” Zhou Su stomped her feet in delight. The Little One was even more adorable than the boss had described, with the added bonus of animal ears.

Heici glanced at the commotion but showed no special reaction, quickly lowering his head to speak to Lu Yao again.

Lu Yao took the piglets, watching them squirm in her palms, feeling a bit stumped. “They’re so small. I have no idea how to raise them.”

Heici turned his head and called toward the door. “Beef Cube!”

That morning, Heici had mentioned that his snow wolf loved jerky. The bag of food he’d brought home had contained a large chunk of tasty jerky, which he had entirely fed to the wolf, licking the leftover flavor off his fingers for himself.

Once the jerky was gone, the snow wolf had thrown quite the tantrum.

Hearing the story, Lu Yao had named the wolf cub Beef Cube.

From outside came a responding bark, but instead of the cub, two plump, full-sized red pigs waddled in first.

Heici: “I brought the piglets’ parents too. They’ll raise them.”

A family should always stick together.

Lu Yao: “…Fine.”

Ji Zhixin turned his head, struggling to hold back laughter.

Bai Yi couldn’t help it; she crouched down, covering her mouth as she softly squealed, “Oh my God! This is killing me with cuteness!”

The red pigs, already terrified of the wolf cub, now completely lost their wits. They let out shrill screams like pigs being slaughtered, tried to run, but their hooves slipped, and they ended up huddled in a corner, trembling under Beef Cube’s relentless herding.

Heici handed all four red pigs to Lu Yao. The currency exchange machine clattered and spat out 24 Nitean coins.

Lu Yao finally realized the machine could also convert live animals, meaning the red pig family was worth 24 Nitean coins.

Lu Yao took two coins as payment for treating Beef Cube and returned the remaining 22 coins to Heici.

Heici shook his head and refused. “The ice season is coming. I want to stay here to hunt but have nowhere to sleep.”

He had figured out what the inn was about and understood that Lu Yao wasn’t the deity he had been seeking.

But since Beef Cube’s legs were healed, Heici decided not to head to Shenmu Village.

With the thorny bushes gone, hunting in Thorn Valley was easier than in his original home in Stone Valley. Heici planned to stay at the inn at night and hunt in the surrounding area during the day until the ice season ended.

Lu Yao handed him the key to room 201 and asked, “How long does the ice season last?”

Heici replied, “Sometimes very short, sometimes very long—it’s different every year. But after the ice season, the Sunshine Season comes.”

The Sunshine Season likely corresponded to spring.

As the weather warmed, more Little Ones would venture out to forage, and the inn’s business would improve.

Lu Yao started looking forward to the ice season.

She settled the red pig family in the barn, then took Heici and Beef Cube upstairs via the elevator.

After seeing them off to rest, Lu Yao returned to prepare dinner.

Meanwhile, Zhou Su, Bai Yi, and Ji Zhixin sat outside the brick inn, unmoving.

Zhou Su: “He went inside! I’m so overwhelmed by the cuteness!!”

Bai Yi: “I wonder what he’s doing in the room. I just want to push the door open and take a look.”

Ji Zhixin rubbed the plain ring on his finger. “Don’t you think Beef Cube is adorable?”

Zhou Su and Bai Yi turned their heads and nodded fiercely.

After days of anticipation, the three finally saw the rumored guests and couldn’t help going wild in the work group chat, leaving their still-on-vacation coworkers utterly confused.

…

The next day, the ice season arrived as expected.

Temperatures plummeted across Nitean, the skies grew dark, and there was no wind or snow. The world felt like a frozen, lifeless city.

Heici, after breakfast, threw on his pink hooded cloak and prepared to take Beef Cube hunting.

Lu Yao stopped him, handing him a piece of clothing. “How can you go out wearing so little? Put this on.”

Heici hesitated for a moment but accepted it.

Not knowing how to form a cocoon, he did need warmer clothes.

Dressed in the tiny down jacket Lu Yao had made, Heici felt warmth spread through his entire body. He could move freely, stretch his arms, and even run without resistance. The jacket was so light it made his mood soar. “Today, I’ll bring back some horned rabbits.”

[You’ve successfully hosted 10 guests and achieved an 80% positive feedback rate. Mission completed! Rewards: Popularity +1000, Oilstones x10!]

[New task: Hire three staff members within seven days, including at least two Nitean Little People. Rewards: Popularity +300, Sweetflags x3. Keep up the hard work!]

Lu Yao had already planned to interview the candidates recommended by Ji Zhixin, Bai Yi, and Fu Chi today, making this task perfectly timed.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️

On the seventh day, the inn had no guests.
On the eighth day, Ji Feiming, Ji Zhixin, and Bai Yi came to work.

The three were employees of the blind box store, the Little Pet Cafe, and the Childhood Tutoring Center, respectively.

After parking their vehicles, the trio walked straight to the new inn’s entrance and looked up at its sign.

Hearing the sound of cars approaching, Lu Yao came out for a look. Seeing them, she smiled: “You’re all early.”

Curious about the new inn, they followed her inside.

The moment Ji Zhixin entered, he noticed the miniature paths and the manual elevator system on the floor. Squatting down to inspect, he asked: “Who designed this?”

Bai Yi: “What’s up?”

Ji Zhixin: “Before I started working at the Shoping Street, I liked playing with building blocks. This scene is really well-designed, and the structure of this elevator is ingenious—it seems like it can actually move.”

Back when his legs were bad, Ji Zhixin had been temperamental and reclusive, confined to his room most of the time. Occasionally, his mother would buy him a box of building blocks, which became his sole pastime.

As he spoke, he reached out, turned the elevator lever, and watched as it indeed began to move.

Bai Yi marveled: “This is so interesting!”

Standing behind them, Ji Feiming glanced around at the inn’s layout, his expression shifting slightly:
“The inn hasn’t opened yet?”

Lu Yao: “It opened on the fourth.”

Then why does it still look like this?
It didn’t resemble an operational inn at all.

Outside, Zhou Su arrived on her little electric scooter. She rushed toward the inn, only to pause at the sight of the gathering inside. Hesitating at the door, she eagerly looked at Lu Yao: “Boss, did anything happen last night?”

Lu Yao shook her head: “Blank slate.”

Zhou Su’s face fell in disappointment.

She had been anticipating something since yesterday, so much so that she couldn’t sleep well last night. Sometimes, the more you expect, the less likely it happens.

Ji Zhixin stood up and followed the miniature elevator path, his gaze landing on the intricately detailed blue-brick building. Pushing open the first-floor door, he seemed astonished: “This is so detailed; you can barely tell it’s made of building blocks from the outside.”

Lego, known for sparking creativity, could be used to create a variety of forms with its block shapes. However, buildings made of blocks often retained certain characteristics—visible square edges, rigid lines, and a pixelated feel. Yet this blue-brick building lacked those traits, appearing like a scaled-down replica of a real human dwelling.

Lu Yao explained:
“It’s probably because of the materials. To save costs, I made the bricks and stones for the inn myself. Their texture and structure are closer to those of actual human houses.”

Ji Zhixin asked, puzzled: “Why go through so much trouble to create this for an inn?”

This question was also on Ji Feiming’s and Bai Yi’s minds.

Zhou Su couldn’t hold back and answered: “Because the guests are little people who can live in these tiny houses—though I haven’t seen them myself yet.”

The trio was stunned.

Lu Yao smiled and explained, “This shop is set in a world where humans have gone extinct. The new inhabitants of the continent are the Nitean Little People.”

She had been so engrossed in her work that she hadn’t thought to take photos for her records.

The staff regretfully exited the inn, but before leaving, they all turned back in unison and said, “Boss, let us know if any guests come!”

Their behavior mirrored Zhou Su’s from the day before.

However, on the eighth day, the inn still didn’t receive any visitors.

After work in the evening, Ji Zhixin, Bai Yi, and Zhou Su all came back to see Lu Yao, each reluctant to leave.

Lu Yao remarked, “Don’t look at me like that. I have principles—I don’t make employees work overtime unless it’s necessary.”

Zhou Su clung to Lu Yao’s arm playfully, saying, “Oh, this isn’t overtime! We’ve just finished the New Year holiday and wanted to chat with you.”

Bai Yi and Ji Zhixin carried bags of food in their hands.

Bai Yi said, “Zhixin-ge and I already bought dinner and snacks. You wouldn’t have the heart to send us away, right?”

To avoid delivery drivers showing up, Ji Zhixin had driven to the city to buy the food with Bai Yi. Besides a proper dinner, they also brought a “Thursday Happy Bucket,” desserts, and milk tea.

Lu Yao sighed, “Fine, but let me be clear: no overtime pay, and don’t let this affect your work tomorrow.”

Ji Zhixin retorted, “Who said this is overtime? It’s just a rare post-work gathering with colleagues.”

Bai Yi and Zhou Su nodded enthusiastically, their eyes frequently darting toward the half-built second guesthouse zone on the counter.

Lu Yao handed out blueprints, saying, “First, divide the tasks properly. Don’t mix things up; redoing it is a hassle.”

Despite bringing food, none of them ate. Only Lu Yao sat down to open her meal of pan-seared steak and spaghetti, which had gone a bit cold. She took it to the kitchen to reheat before eating.

…

In the world of Alexander Continent, the Dragon Festival had just ended, and staff from the nail salon were gradually returning.

Harold, busy catching up with familiar faces and exchanging banter, didn’t come over that evening, and even Budu stayed on that side.

As Ji Zhixin had said, it was indeed rare for Lu Yao to sit with her local staff and spend some time chatting.

The three staff members were engrossed in playing with the building blocks, while Lu Yao sat by the kitchen counter eating.

Bai Yi said, “Boss, a few people came to the tutoring center looking for you today.”

Lu Yao asked, “Who?”

Bai Yi replied, “One was a woman named Zhou Yishan, and the other was a man who identified himself as ‘X.’ Xiaoxiao said these two have been waiting outside the shop almost every day recently.”

Although the tutoring center was technically closed during the holiday, some staff remained on duty to handle lingering work from the ultimate mission.

Since the completion of that mission, dramatic changes had taken place in Sanhua City and even the entire world. Yet Lu Yao’s only focus was continuing to run the tutoring center.

As for controlling the world’s future, she had no such ambitions.

She thought to herself, Let the new god worry about these things.

However, the seed she had planted in her flowerpot had yet to sprout.

Bai Yi continued, “In the afternoon, Zhixin and I were hanging out near the convenience store, and they spotted us. They asked me to pass a message to you.”

Lu Yao: “What did they say?”

Bai Yi: “They claimed they had something very important to tell you and hoped they could meet with you.”

Lu Yao frowned. Zhou Yishan’s tutoring had already been completed. After the incident at the research institute, Lu Yao had no desire to see her—or X, for that matter.

Bai Yi added, “They seemed serious, as if it were truly important.”

Lu Yao pondered for a moment. “I understand. After I finish my tasks over the next couple of days, I’ll meet with them.”

Tomorrow was the final day of the inn’s mission, and she had to be there to oversee it.

Zhou Su, having listened to the conversation, couldn’t hold back her curiosity. “Boss, have you made progress on that project you mentioned earlier?”

Earlier, she had tried sharing news about tonight’s hangout at the inn in the group chat, only to remember they couldn’t send photos, which reminded her of the matter.

Lu Yao thought for a moment and nodded. “I’ve discussed it with our collaborators. I should receive an answer in the next few days.”

Previously, Lu Yao had spoken with the head guard at the snack shop to discuss the details of building the internal network.

The head guard explained that the plan required the approval of the Demon God, as the network would serve as an online platform for the shop but had to rely on Dreamland’s rules and infrastructure. Since this involved multiple interconnected world systems, the Demon God’s consent was critical.

Lu Yao understood the head guard’s caution and could only wait patiently for the Demon God’s response.

Zhou Su pressed, “Can you at least hint at what this project involves?”

Lu Yao replied vaguely, “It’s hard to say for now.”

She didn’t want to prematurely share details. If the Demon God didn’t approve, it would feel like she’d broken a promise to her employees. While she hadn’t been overly concerned about such things in the past, the growing number of shops and staff on the street made her increasingly aware of her responsibilities as a boss.

The system’s recent antics left her with a nagging sense that more trouble awaited. Having dependable, trustworthy “teammates” might prove crucial in the days ahead.

The discussion fizzled out without further details, but Zhou Su wasn’t disappointed. Instead, she changed the topic to something else.

Tonight, what held everyone’s attention the most was the inn’s Little People guests.

Unfortunately, by 10 p.m., no new guests had arrived.

Lu Yao, true to her word, firmly shooed the three away, warning them not to stay up late if they wanted to function at work tomorrow.

Both Ji Zhixin and Bai Yi drove, while Zhou Su rode her small electric scooter.

Concerned for Zhou Su’s safety, Bai Yi offered to drive her home.

Lu Yao stood at the inn’s entrance, watching them leave.

The parking lot next to Qingshan Noodle House was in terrible shape. If the internal network project succeeded and funds became available, she considered renovating the area.

…

On the Nitean Continent, a Nitean Little Person wrapped tightly in a pink cloak sprinted towards Thorn Valley.

Snow fell heavily at night, but he didn’t stop, hunching his body low as feather-like flakes landed on his head and shoulders. Determined, he pressed forward.

Finally, he climbed up the gentle slope leading into Thorn Valley and saw a bright, wide road stretching ahead.

He paused in surprise, then began running toward the inn.

Exhausted from the long journey, his legs gave way as he descended the slope too quickly, falling flat on his face. Something he had been holding close to his chest flew out, emitting a weak whimper.

The Little Person struggled to get up, desperate to reach the small creature that was crying out in distress, but his frozen limbs refused to obey.

The biting wind carried snowflakes that whipped against him, and a thin layer of ice began to form under his feet.

He was so close, yet so far.

Unwilling to give in, he closed his eyes.

…

Inside the inn, Lu Yao had made a makeshift bed using chairs in the kitchen hallway. Before resting, she habitually pushed open the inn door to check outside.

Tonight, the Nitean Continent was blanketed in snow again.

The fences on either side of the inn weren’t fully white, and the small string lights appeared hazy in the snowy night. Without moonlight, they resembled stars scattered on the ground.

“Woo—”

Lu Yao’s ears perked up as she faintly heard a whimper, but with the sound of the windmills spinning noisily, she thought she might’ve imagined it.

“Woo-woo—”

She pulled out her phone, switched on the flashlight, and began walking along the fence.

Halfway through, she crouched to pick up a piece of paper buried in the snow.

One side had an illustration, and the back was printed text—it was one of the inn’s flyers.

Continuing forward, she stopped near the slope. Squinting, she scanned the snow and spotted a pink bundle partially covered by snowflakes. Another ten minutes, and it would’ve been entirely buried.

Brushing the snow aside, she found it oddly familiar.

After a moment, she remembered—it was the hooded cloak she had sewn for Monk that night.

Underneath the hooded cloak was a Nitean Little Person curled up and frozen stiff.

This little one can’t form a cocoon?

A short distance away, there was another small grayish-black furry bundle. Lu Yao placed both tiny creatures into her coat pockets, one on each side. Pausing to listen, she heard no other sounds and turned to head back to the inn.

Once inside, she turned on the portable heater, grabbed a fleece blanket, and began warming up the Little Person and the furry bundle, much like when she had rescued Monk.

The tiny furry bundle was about the size of one of her fingertips. Its gray-white fur was curled tightly, resembling a thumb-sized donut. Its abdomen rose and fell faintly, showing signs of life.

As she kept watch over them, Lu Yao sent a message to the group chat.

[Lu Yao: The inn has guests now.]

Well, rescued guests, but it didn’t really matter.

🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️🛍️