Author Archives: Thandar

Qing Yan’s ears hadn’t reacted yet, but her apricot eyes were already clouded with uneasy shock.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Duan Wucuo rolling up his sleeve, revealing a section of pale wrist. Her mind seemed to spin in circles before sluggishly clicking into place.

She finally realized what Duan Wucuo was saying.

“What do you mean…”
Her tongue moved faster than her thoughts—her soft voice trailing off like a murmur.

Suddenly, Duan Wucuo leaned closer. His sleeve brushed lightly against the back of her hand resting on her knee, then drifted away.

He turned his head slightly, bringing his ear near as he asked, “What did the princess say?”

So close—if she opened her mouth, her lips might brush his ear. If she blinked, her lashes would graze the raven-black hair at his temple.

The world seemed to fall silent. The shouts and calls from the bustling street below faded, as if separated by the River of Forgetfulness.

“Insolent—!”
Qing Yan’s voice abruptly changed from soft and gentle to drawn-out and indignant, laced with anger.

Like a proud peacock—though one plucked bare, all bravado and no force.

She reminded herself she wasn’t Qing’er now, but Princess Shi Lingwu of Tao, defending her honor against humiliation.

Duan Wucuo rubbed the edge of his ear with the back of a finger, then turned to face Qing Yan directly.

His dark eyes were like still water under soft moonlight, calm and gentle.

With a faint smile in his voice, he said,
“If the princess truly speaks the truth, then the kingdom of Yi might need to question the Emperor of Tao’s sincerity.”

Panic flared in Qing Yan’s heart.

She knew perfectly well that Duan Wucuo was only threatening her—there was no way he’d really travel all the way to confront the Emperor of Tao over this.

But she was a fake princess, so the threat still struck deep.

Her little face went pale. She bit down on her plush lips, eyes reddening as she looked at him.

She said,
“Why must Prince Zhan press me so?
I know my own shortcomings. That’s why I’ve humbled myself these past few days, trying in every way to win your favor.
All in hopes that when you one day learn the truth, you’d remember my efforts and temper your anger.

Now that I’ve learned Prince Min has lost his wife, I simply found a more suitable match for myself.
Whether I’m worthy or not, I’ll no longer be your wife.
Please, Prince Zhan, let me go.”

Her pale little face and reddened apricot eyes radiated a pitiful sense of grievance.

Her voice was naturally sweet, and when she deliberately softened it, it gained an almost syrupy quality.

Word by word, her pleading tone landed straight on Duan Wucuo’s heart.

“And what if I insist that you become this monk’s wife?”

Qing Yan’s eyes widened in shock, staring blankly at him. Her cherry lips parted, but no words came.

His words echoed in her ears, looping over and over as she tried to make sense of them.

“Hmm?”

Duan Wucuo placed both hands on the windowsill, on either side of her, and slowly leaned closer, as if trying to peer deeper into the secret panic behind her deer-like eyes.

Qing Yan caught the faint scent of sandalwood from his robes.

Her mind was blank. Her heart was flustered.

As Duan Wucuo drew closer, her body instinctively reacted—she leaned back, away from him.

But she was seated on a narrow windowsill.

His scandalous words continued to slide leisurely into her ears:

“Having lain with someone else isn’t so bad.
More experience means more fun.
Like a fine, heady wine—it has a charm that sweet spring water can never match.”

Dressed in monk’s robes, looking like a figure of ascetic purity, yet speaking such outrageous words with utter calm—he was the very picture of righteous depravity.

Qing Yan’s lips trembled. Staring at his opening and closing mouth, she reached up to cover her ears.

A teasing glint flashed at the corner of Duan Wucuo’s eyes.

He leaned in further, grasped her wrist, and gently pulled her hand away, murmuring by her ear:
“This humble monk, bound by the five precepts and long suffering beneath the cold lamplight of the temple,
—if the princess would kindly offer some instruction in the pleasures of fish and water,
it would truly be the utmost bliss of the mortal world.”

Qing Yan yanked her hands free, desperately trying to escape both his trapping gaze and the filth he was spouting.

She forgot she was perched on a narrow ledge. As she pushed against him and leaned back, her upper body suddenly tilted outward.

She gave a startled cry and flailed for something to hold onto—grabbing the front of Duan Wucuo’s monk robe.

He didn’t move. His hands still rested on the sill around her. He merely smiled at her panic, poised and elegant.

And yet—with those filthy words still echoing in her ears—this beautiful face seemed to hide nothing but treachery beneath its fine features.

The wind brushed past her ears. Qing Yan was truly afraid now.

Afraid she might fall from this third-floor window.

She clung tightly to his robes, tugging them into disarray. The loose monk’s robe slid open, revealing a snowy white inner garment beneath.

The simple blue sash tied at his narrow waist slipped slowly to the floor.

Duan Wucuo looked out the window toward the official road, where Prince Min’s caravan was passing.
Unhurriedly, he said,
“No need for such urgency, Princess.
To begin disrobing in public like this… hardly proper, wouldn’t you say?”

Qing Yan’s ears burned. She let go at once.

She reached blindly for the window frame, but her hand slipped on the carved lattice. She lost her balance—her waist and hips tipping backward.

Only then did Duan Wucuo finally reach out and catch her.

Dangling outside the window, he was her only support.
With his tug, she crashed hard into his chest.

She was soft and warm—but his chest beneath the silken robe was cold and unyielding.

Across the street, a few curious eyes peeked through opposite windows.

Duan Wucuo calmly closed the window. His palm fell gently on Qing Yan’s slim back, lightly patting her.

He seemed to be soothing her, comforting her.

But with each gentle pat, Qing Yan’s spine arched slightly—until her entire body went stiff.

She remained still, her frantic heartbeat pressed against Duan Wucuo’s chest.

Sensing it, his eyes finally took on a different look.

He lowered his gaze to the girl frozen in his arms, thoughtful.

To him, Qing Yan was like a transparent little girl—like a sheet of white paper, every thought written clearly upon it.

He realized, just then, that perhaps he had gone too far.
He had truly frightened her.

But behind every tease was an unspoken premise—he had already decided he would marry her.

Since receiving Emperor Wen He’s approval, he had been halfway there.

After seeing her appearance at the other palace that night, he was nearly fully convinced.

Whether or not she wanted to marry him didn’t matter.
It was never part of his consideration.

Duan Wucuo curved his lips into a light smile.
Thinking about it this way, he didn’t feel he had gone too far after all.

A wife is someone one has to cherish for a lifetime—so it’s only right to make sure she grows into someone interesting. That way, the days to come will be filled with amusement.

He picked a sunflower seed off Qing Yan’s skirt, popped it into his mouth, and cracked it open. The small sound echoed clearly in the overly quiet room.

That tiny crack coincided perfectly with a single loud thump of Qing Yan’s heart.

It was as if a cloud had wrapped around her—yet in that moment, the cloud dispersed with the crisp snap of the seed shell.

The distant hawking and street calls became clear again.

Qing Yan’s heartbeat slowed. The flush on her cheeks cooled as she slowly regained her composure.

Duan Wucuo pinched her chin, lifting her face—and then placed the seed kernel he’d just cracked open into her mouth.

His fingertips were cold, brushing unintentionally against her soft lips.

For a second, their eyes met.
Qing Yan forcefully pushed him away, swiftly slipped past his side, jumped down from the windowsill—and fled without looking back.

The sound of her ornaments chimed faintly as she left. Duan Wucuo didn’t stop her; he only bent down and picked up the blue sash of his monk’s robe that had fallen to the ground.

Qing Yan flung open the door—and ran straight into Su Ruche.

Su Ruche was standing at the door. No one knew when she’d returned, or how long she’d been standing there.

“I… I’m going back first.”

Su Ruche smiled and agreed, her expression giving nothing away.

Qing Yan pulled the just-arrived Wen Xi up the stairs and hurried downstairs.

She no longer wanted to stay anywhere Duan Wucuo was. As long as he was there, even the scent of sandalwood made her dizzy.

Su Ruche watched Qing Yan’s retreating back as she descended. Her gaze turned cold. Even the whites of her eyes gradually tinged red, brimming with hatred.

Her hand on the doorframe clenched tightly. Her nails dug into the aged yellow wood.

She no longer believed that Qing Yan was some foolish, naive princess—she only saw a scheming girl full of hidden agendas.

Su Ruche was tense, her thoughts singular:
If she wanted Prince Zhan, she had to get rid of this wretched woman.

And she was jealous.

Her vision blurred—under the broken, dappled light, it was as if the person falling into Duan Wucuo’s arms wasn’t Qing Yan, but herself.

Dark vines of obsession grew wildly in the shadowed corners of her heart, threatening to strangle it completely.

The thorns on the vines were dense, and with each surge of anger, they stabbed viciously into her chest.

She had already gone mad for Duan Wucuo once—had even set up her own older sister. Why would she show mercy to Qing Yan?

In just an instant, a cruel plan took root in her mind.

Hearing footsteps behind her, Su Ruche turned her head—putting on the bright, innocent smile of a 15-year-old girl. She greeted Duan Wucuo sweetly:
“Prince Zhan.”

Duan Wucuo had somehow already put himself back in order. Not a single wrinkle marred his monk’s robe.

He responded casually with a soft “Mm,” without even glancing at her, then walked out at an unhurried pace.

Su Ruche’s eyes clung to him.

She wished she could follow him right now, never be apart again.

But she knew she couldn’t. It wasn’t time yet.

She suppressed her longing, gathered herself, and went to find Cheng Ji.

Cheng Ji—Cheng Mujin’s younger brother—was the legitimate eldest grandson of the Left Chancellor’s family, and a well-known rake in the capital.

Chasing cats, walking dogs, indulging in wine and pleasure, gambling, frequenting brothels, and bullying others—

Every vice a typical rich wastrel might have, he had.
And even a few others they wouldn’t dare indulge in, he had those too.

Su Ruche arrived at the Cheng residence.

Cheng Ji was perched on a courtyard wall, a woman’s ornamental hairpin clamped in his mouth, squinting down at her with a rogue’s grin.

“Well now, what brings the little princess to slum it at my place?”

Su Ruche said,
“I heard you tried to win over the top courtesan at Manxiang Pavilion a few days ago, but lost to a penniless scholar?”

Cheng Ji’s expression darkened at once. He ran his tongue slowly across the bead on the hairpin, then asked,
“What, the little princess want to come keep me company instead?”

Then he burst into loud laughter.

Su Ruche forced down her disgust and had her maid hand over a portrait of Qing Yan.

With a stern face, she said:
“I haven’t seen this top courtesan of Manxiang Pavilion, but I refuse to believe she could outshine the beauty of Princess Huachao.
It’s just a shame she has her eyes set on Prince Min.”

Cheng Ji scoffed and casually unrolled the painting—to reveal a stunning woman in a bridal gown.

His smile faded ever so slightly.

Su Ruche caught the shift in his expression and felt reassured.

She said slowly:
“Cheng Ji, last time you lost to a scholar.
This time, you’re not going to lose to that blind, foolish Prince Min, are you?”

Cheng Ji tossed the scroll aside, leapt down from the wall, and landed right in front of Su Ruche. She took a step back.

He twirled the hairpin in his fingers and chuckled:
“Little princess, you think I’m stupid, don’t you?
Trying to use me like some tool.”

“Think what you want.”

With that, Su Ruche turned and left.

Cheng Ji stood there, tongue leisurely circling the base of his teeth, arms crossed, tapping his elbow rhythmically.

One look, and it was clear—he was already scheming something.

Meanwhile, Duan Wucuo entered the palace to meet with Emperor Wen He.

“Ah Jiu, you’re here!”

As soon as he saw Duan Wucuo, the emperor broke into a broad smile.

Just moments before, his brow had been furrowed with worries about the Empress, imperial heirs, and the chaos of court affairs.

He stood up quickly.
“Come, come—sit!”

Duan Wucuo didn’t sit. He got straight to the point:
“I want Princess Huachao. Bestow the marriage.”

Emperor Wen He paused for a beat before replying blankly:
“Ah?”

He had both hands resting on his desk, but now stood upright like a kindly old man with his hands behind his back.

His smile hadn’t yet faded—but there was a stiffness to it.

He looked at Duan Wucuo, hesitating to speak.

°❀.ೃ࿔°❀.ೃ࿔

The twenty-eighth day of the first lunar month was an auspicious day—perfect for moving into a new house, engagements, and weddings.

At the break of dawn, Wu Guixiang arrived at the door. She had enjoyed playing the role of the blessed woman at Lian Ou’s wedding so much that she had insisted on taking part when Shen Qing held his ceremony. And it made sense—Wu Guixiang was now truly the most fortunate aunt in Lantang Village.

Shen Qing had not slept well. Song Kaiji had been insistent on making this ceremony feel authentic, and his antics had escalated to the point where they had slept in separate rooms the night before. Even Quan Jie’er had been taken away to stay with Zhang Sujuan and Miao Chunlei. Left alone for the first time in ages, Shen Qing had woken up multiple times throughout the night, and there was a faint shadow of exhaustion beneath his eyes in the morning.

Wu Guixiang noticed and teased, “Even you, Qing Ge’er, are nervous on your big day?”

Shen Qing felt a little embarrassed. He was, just a bit. Even though they had been together for a long time, having such a formal ceremony felt oddly unsettling.

Lian Ou had come along with Wu Guixiang. Now a married man, he had switched to a husband’s attire and looked even more radiant than before. Clearly, his married life had been treating him well. He smiled reassuringly at Shen Qing. “I was nervous too—getting in the wedding sedan for the first time, who wouldn’t be? But trust me, you’ll be so exhausted soon that you won’t have time to feel nervous. You’re in better shape than I was, so you’ll probably handle it better.”

But Shen Qing’s nerves weren’t quite the same as Lian Ou’s. Lian Ou had been anxious about his future and the unknowns of the wedding night, while Shen Qing already had a firm grasp on both.

As they chatted, Miao Chunlei also woke up and instructed the maids to prepare breakfast. The kitchen had already prepared the dough and filling the night before, so the servants quickly started making meat pancakes.

Wu Guixiang undid Shen Qing’s hair. He had been well-fed and taken care of, and under the guidance of Qu Weiwei, Yu Le, and others, he had been using proper hair care. The new hair growing in was jet black and glossy, though the tips still carried some of the dryness from before. Even so, compared to most people in this era, his hair was already exceptional. Wu Guixiang praised it, and Lian Ou, envious, reached out to touch the silky strands at the crown of Shen Qing’s head.

Then Wu Guixiang picked up a comb and clicked her tongue in admiration. The moment she touched it, she knew it was made from high-quality wood. A closer sniff revealed a rich, natural fragrance. “Qing Ge’er’s family truly has everything refined!”

She began combing as she recited the wedding blessings:

“One stroke for a loving couple,

Two strokes for growing old together,

Three strokes for a home filled with children and prosperity…”

Hearing these blessings, Shen Qing looked at himself in the bronze mirror, a genuine smile of happiness spreading across his face.

Wu Guixiang didn’t give him an elaborate hairstyle—it wouldn’t suit him anyway. Instead, she neatly tied his hair into a simple yet elegant bun, securing it with a finely embroidered lily-patterned ribbon. Then, she inserted a heavy gold hairpin adorned with multiple precious gems and auspicious cloud motifs.

Even this felt a bit too flashy for Shen Qing, but since a wedding was a once-in-a-lifetime event, he decided to let it be.

With his hair done, it was time for his face to be cleansed and makeup applied. Before that, Miao Chunlei brought in a plate of freshly made meat pancakes, while a maid followed with a small pot of porridge. “Eat breakfast first. If we do your makeup now, your face will just get greasy later.”

Everyone was familiar with each other, so there was no need for formalities. Wu Guixiang and Lian Ou joined in, and they all sat down to eat.

Shen Qing picked up a meat pancake. It resembled a chive pocket, but instead of chives and eggs, it was filled with pork and green onions. The green onions had been finely chopped and lightly fried before mixing, then combined with a blend of lean and fatty pork. The outer crust was thin and crispy, releasing a mouthwatering aroma with every bite.

After taking a couple of bites, Shen Qing turned to the maid and asked, “Are there more of these in the kitchen?”

Miao Chunlei, knowing him all too well, immediately answered before the maid could speak. “Just eat, there’s plenty. Xiao Song is already awake—we’ve sent some to him and to your mother-in-law as well.” She gave him a knowing look. “My ger is up early, but he still wants to sleep in? If he won’t wake up, drag him out of bed!”

Wu Guixiang and Lian Ou both laughed.

Halfway through breakfast, more people arrived—Lian family, along with Miao Hexiang’s maternal relatives, as well as Miao Xing, Miao Wang, Grandmother Miao, Liu Yue’e, and Li Yanzi. Miao Chunlei quickly went out to host them, leaving Lian Rong, Xue Niang, and Qiao Niang, two of Shen Qing’s younger female cousins, to keep him company. Others were either seated at the banquet or helping Miao Chunlei with arrangements.

The young girls were thrilled, fascinated by everything they saw. They had witnessed village weddings before, but nothing compared to this. Just the gold hairpin in Shen Qing’s hair was enough to dazzle them. And when they saw the wedding robe hanging beside the bed, their heads spun.

Song Kaiji had specially commissioned a tailoring workshop in the county to make it, hiring over a dozen skilled embroiderers to rush its completion. The wedding robe was made of rich crimson silk, embroidered with a golden dragon and phoenix intertwined in exquisite detail. Despite its opulence, it didn’t appear overly feminine. When Shen Qing wore it, he resembled a young prince straight out of a historical drama—elegant and noble.

Blushing, Lian Rong shyly handed Shen Qing a pouch. It was made of red silk with gold embroidery, almost identical to the one she had given Lian Ou. Though it was a bit of a reach, she had long since regarded Shen Qing as an older brother.

Lian Ou also presented a pair of meticulously crafted lover’s knots, which Shen Qing could embellish with jade pendants. Even as an experienced hand, it had taken Lian Ou four or five days to make them.

These were their gifts to Shen Qing for his wedding dowry.

Once Shen Qing changed into his wedding robe, Wu Guixiang had nearly finished breakfast. She sent Lian Rong off to fetch a boiled egg from the kitchen, carefully washing her hands afterward to avoid getting any grease on the garment.

Lian Rong returned quickly, still chewing on half a meat pancake, and brought a message along with the egg. “I ran into Qing Ge’er’s husband. He said it’s fine to skip the face threading—he thinks Qing Ge’er looks perfect as he is.”

Wu Guixiang couldn’t help but chuckle. “Look at him, already protective before the ceremony even begins! What’s there to fuss over? Every bride and ger goes through this.” But deep down, she was envious—after all, a good marriage was all about mutual care and devotion.

As always, the warm boiled egg was rolled over his face first, followed by two threads twisting together to remove the fine hairs. But for some reason, whether it was because he had heard his husband’s words or something else, Qing Ge’er became especially delicate about it. This was someone who hadn’t even cried out when a wild boar had rammed into him, yet now he was hissing in pain at a simple face-threading. He even kept twisting his body away as if it truly hurt that much.

Just as he let out two small hisses, a nervous voice came from outside the window.

“Be gentle, be gentle!”

Wu Guixiang nearly choked in exasperation and couldn’t take it anymore. “Rong jie’er, go chase him away!”

The girls and gers inside burst into laughter. Lian Rong actually lifted the curtain and stepped outside. There was some rustling below the window, but by the time they looked, Song Kaiji had already vanished.

Shen Qing couldn’t help but chuckle. Only he knew why Song Kaiji had been so concerned. The truth was, Shen Qing was particularly sensitive when it came to his hair. Once, during an intimate moment, his hair had been pressed down, and just a small tug had made tears well up in his eyes from the pain.

Everyone has their weaknesses, after all. Shen Qing was resistant to pain in his flesh, but when it came to his hair, he was unusually sensitive. And Song Kaiji had remembered that.

After a round of laughter, they quickly finished grooming Shen Qing. Wu Guixiang didn’t apply heavy powder on his face—whatever skincare balm he had been using at home was already enough to make his skin smooth and radiant. She simply brushed his eyebrows a little and dabbed a tiny bit of rouge on his lips to brighten his complexion. It was already enough to make him look exquisite.

Once the makeup was done, Lin Ning arrived with Lin Zao’er and the Xie siblings. Seeing Shen Qing all dressed up, Lin Ning secretly admired his looks and muttered under his breath, “If Qing Ge’er were a man, he’d be the handsomest one in all of Anping County… Hiss…”

“Right? I’ve said it since I was little—Qing Ge’er is the best-looking. If Qing Ge’er were a man, I’d marry him when I grew up. Not a single boy in the village could compare.”

Surprised, Lin Ning turned his head to see Lian Rong squatting beside him, resting her chin on her hands. He was speechless.

“You are still little,” he pointed out. But then they exchanged glances and instantly recognized each other as kindred spirits.

By the time daylight fully illuminated the sky, guests had started arriving one after another, and the banquet under the ceremonial arch was in full swing. Song Kaiji had specially gathered seven or eight skilled cooks from the village, and large pots were continuously stirring up dishes. The food wasn’t extravagantly expensive, but every dish had meat in it and was full of flavor.

Eight large bowls were set on each table—sauerkraut stewed with bone marrow and blood sausage, braised pork belly with tofu and pigskin jelly, crispy radish fritters, chicken stewed with potatoes and chestnuts… All hearty, satisfying dishes. The main courses included wheat and corn steamed buns and large, fragrant scallion pancakes, all served in abundance. Anyone who came, whether familiar or not, was welcome to sit and eat freely.

Servants bustled through the courtyard, carrying dishes back and forth, working up a sweat despite the cold winter air.

Some guests, clearly struggling with hard times, discreetly took leftovers to bring home. The hosts pretended not to notice. It was just after the New Year, and villages like Lantang and Shiqu were relatively well-off—most families weren’t desperately short on food. But some had traveled dozens of miles just to share in this meal, and for them, these leftovers were precious.

No one knew who started it, but at some point, an elderly guest took half a scallion pancake wrapped in leftovers and, trembling, knelt to kowtow toward the archway.

One of the serving gers quickly stopped him. “Elder, there’s no need for that. Our master said, as long as everyone remembers him and our lord with kind words, that’s enough.”

“Such good people, such kind souls,” the elder praised, raising his thumb. “Your master and lord will surely live long and grow old together.”

…

Inside the courtyard, another banquet was set up, and the dishes here were even more refined. Song Kaiji had sought out Gold-Tooth to hire a renowned chef from a restaurant, who had brought five apprentices along. Each table was laden with exquisitely prepared dishes.

Grandmother Miao sat at the head seat, beaming with joy.

She had once thought Qing Ge’er would either marry into the household of some high-ranking steward or become a concubine for a nobleman. Who could have imagined that Qing Ge’er would be so blessed as to become a noble’s rightful fulang?

The courtyard was filled with chests and boxes—Song Kaiji had deliberately set them out for everyone to see. If Shen Qing had suddenly started spending extravagantly, he would have needed to find ways to justify his wealth. But as an outsider nobleman, Song Kaiji could present any amount of riches without raising suspicion—people would only marvel at it.

There were bolts of fine cloth by the hundreds, exquisite porcelain so delicate that no one dared to touch it, and various finely crafted household goods. And these were just the bulky, sturdy items that could be left out in the open. The gold and jewelry weren’t even displayed—they were safely stored inside. Who knew how much there was?

Qing Ge’er had truly fallen into a nest of fortune!

Qu Weiwei and Tang Wenjie had also arrived. By now, they no longer needed guides—they could navigate the cave passage on their own. Both had prepared wedding gifts, though neither of them, in either world, could compare to Shen Qing in terms of wealth, so they simply offered what they could.

Tang Wenjie, using his abilities, condensed an enormous silver ingot—about the size of Quan Jie’er—and carried it over in his arms, drawing plenty of stares along the way. Qu Weiwei, having learned from some skilled hairpin makers, personally crafted a beaded hairband.

Since the wedding was held in their own home, many traditional ceremonies were skipped. There was no procession, no urging the bride to hurry, no crying farewell. Shen Qing simply walked into the hall, surrounded by friends, and joined Song Kaiji in holding onto the two ends of a red silk ribbon, kneeling side by side on the prayer mats.

“First bow to heaven and earth!”

Gold-Tooth had been chosen as the officiant, and he took the role very seriously. Dressed in brand-new attire, he was beaming with joy, as if it were his own younger brother getting married.

As Shen Qing lowered his head, he glanced up slightly and saw that the hall was filled with familiar faces—Lin Ning, Lin Zao, the Xie siblings, the villagers from Lantang who had helped him since childhood, Aunt Yanzi, Brother Tieshan, Uncle Li, Second Aunt Lian’s family… even their relatives from Shiqu Village. Miao Chunlei’s clan members, Tongsheng Miao’s family…

Turning together, Shen Qing and Song Kaiji bowed toward Miao Chunlei and Zhang Sujuan.

“Second bow to the honored elders!”

Both mothers were all smiles as they reached out to help them up.

Nearby, Quan Jie’er was being held in Mother Tang’s arms, her big round eyes filled with curiosity. A child witnessing their own parents’ wedding—such an event was unheard of in the surrounding villages. But among these family and friends, no one found it strange. They simply chose to embrace the moment, their faces glowing with the purest and most sincere blessings.

Qu Weiwei and Tang Wenjie stood beside Mother Tang, looking around at all the loved ones present.

Everyone who mattered in their lives was here.

And most importantly, right in front of him was Song Kaiji.

“Husbands, bow to each other!”

Shen Qing bowed deeply.

The wedding was complete.

Holding onto the red silk ribbon, they would walk through mountains and rivers, hand in hand, for the rest of their lives.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Thandar: End of main story, but worry not, plenty of extra chapters coming up. They will be password locked however. Please find the passwords in TOC.

Although Tang Wenjie and Qu Weiwei had no plans to settle down in ancient times, they were determined to spend a proper New Year here. On the afternoon of the first day of the New Year, Shen Qing and Song Kaiji took a trip to their new base, gave a speech, and distributed benefits to the residents to stabilize morale. By the second day, they had returned to Lantang Village.

This time, they also brought Mother Tang along. The experience was undoubtedly a shocking, worldview-shattering moment for her. But upon seeing Zhang Sujuan, now fully immersed in ancient life and seamlessly blending into the household, Mother Tang gradually accepted the reality—her old friend had been secretly living the good life behind her back!

From the second day of the New Year all the way until the Lantern Festival, they feasted continuously. Now that the household had maids dedicated to kitchen work, and with Miao Chunlei and Mother Tang both being culinary experts, the two quickly hit it off. For them, cooking wasn’t just housework—it was a hobby. They often spent entire afternoons in the kitchen, exchanging ideas and creating new dishes.

After the Lantern Festival, once the holiday break was over, Qu Weiwei reluctantly returned to work. Meanwhile, Tang Wenjie found himself constantly traveling between two places, balancing time between his mother and his partner. Fortunately, their base had recently expanded its territory significantly. Even during the holiday season, many ability users had voluntarily worked overtime to build a defensive barrier along the new borders.

The primary effort was led by earth, metal, and wood ability users. Earth ability users constructed walls, metal ability users set up barbed wire, and wood ability users wove vine nets. This way, they could first enclose the territory, preventing new zombies from wandering in. Then, they could systematically eliminate the zombies and mutant creatures inside before sending ordinary non-ability users to construct solid walls along the barriers.

With work as an excuse, Tang Wenjie was able to sneak away from time to time to visit his mother. Initially, Mother Tang felt nervous and uneasy in this unfamiliar environment, needing her son’s company more often. But as time passed and she grew closer to her old friend Zhang Sujuan, made new like-minded friends, and regularly went on outings to the village and county, she became less concerned about how often Tang Wenjie visited.

“It’s just that there’s no internet here—it’s so inconvenient. If we could just make a phone call or video chat every day, why would we need all this trouble?” Mother Tang sighed. Everything has its imperfections. She pulled out her phone and showed Miao Chunlei her collection of cooking videos.

Miao Chunlei had seen a phone before. Before Song Kaiji was able to travel here, she had relied on recorded videos to communicate with him. Later, after Quan Jie’er was born, Shen Qing often used his phone to record moments of the child’s growth. But that was about the extent of her exposure—she had never truly used one herself.

Recently, Mother Tang and Zhang Sujuan had been teaching her how to use a phone while sharing stories about modern times. Miao Chunlei was instantly hooked. Who could resist the allure of playing with a phone?!

After the Lantern Festival, Shen Qing and Song Kaiji also had another important task—to visit Magistrate Lin’s residence and finalize the sworn brotherhood ceremony with Lin Ning. This wasn’t something Shen Qing had to worry about personally; Magistrate Lin was paving the way for Lin Ning and had already arranged everything. A grand feast was prepared, and invitations were sent to all the prominent families in the county. Whether they attended or not didn’t matter—once the invitations were sent, the news of Lin Ning and Shen Qing becoming sworn brothers was officially announced.

Magistrate Lin even consulted a fortune teller to choose an auspicious day for the event. The grand banquet attracted not only those who received invitations but also merchants who, upon hearing the news, showed up uninvited. After all, this was an excellent opportunity to curry favor with the magistrate. At the same time, no one dared to underestimate Shen Qing anymore.

Although he was just a ger, anyone seeking a favor from the magistrate now had an undeniable connection through him. After all, Magistrate Lin had only one ger child, and if Shen Qing was now his sworn brother, wasn’t that practically the same as being his son-in-law?

As a result, another wave of people flocked to Shen Qing, eager to befriend him. The only ones who were left regretting their past actions were the pawnshop owner and his backers, who had once made things difficult for Shen Qing. They were absolutely sick with remorse.

Who could have predicted such a turn of fate? The shabby village ger they had looked down upon was now someone they couldn’t even approach.

Meanwhile, Lin Ning spent the entire day feeling flustered. The first time he met Shen Qing, he had been captivated by his beauty. Yet, by a strange twist of fate, they had ended up becoming sworn brothers instead. This was far from what he had initially imagined, but family was family. Even Shen Qing’s strikingly handsome husband had somehow become his sworn cousin—what a dream for a face-lover!

At long last, Song Kaiji obtained his official household registration in this world. To him, this was a matter of utmost importance because it meant he could finally marry Shen Qing and obtain a marriage certificate!

Although the two had long been committed to each other, with a child together, Shen Qing had never cared about an official marriage document. But Song Kaiji cared—a lot.

Not caring meant that he was free in both soul and body, not bound by any piece of paper. Caring, however, meant respect, a sense of ritual, and possessiveness.

“I want everyone from ten miles around—no, the entire world to know that I belong to you! Hehehe!”

Song Kaiji had long been preparing for their wedding. Today, after witnessing the grandeur of Magistrate Lin’s banquet, he recalled how he had also observed every detail of wedding customs when Ou Ge’er got married. Now, hugging Shen Qing, he declared excitedly:

“I want to invite the entire village! No—everyone from Shiqu Village too! I want them all to come to our house for the feast. And I’ll set up a banquet under the archway that lasts three whole days and nights!”

Since he and Shen Qing were already living together, he couldn’t go through the traditional process of fetching the bride in a grand procession through the village. This alone was enough to make him feel wronged!

What was the purpose of a wedding ceremony, if not to make a grand announcement and receive everyone’s blessings? Holding a massive banquet for three days and nights was his way of making sure that happened.

After all, the villagers would at least have to say a few kind words in exchange for the feast, right?

Shen Qing couldn’t hold back his laughter. “Are you being childish?”

Song Kaiji nuzzled his ear, the ticklish sensation making Shen Qing shrink away. “Love makes people childish. It makes you want to show off. Not only will I flaunt our wedding, but when Quan Jie’er reaches one hundred days, I’ll show her off like crazy. I’ll make sure the whole world knows that my darling Qingqing gave me the cutest daughter in existence!”

Shen Qing’s toes curled in embarrassment, but he was laughing uncontrollably. In the end, he gave in to Song Kaiji.

Because, deep down, he also wanted to show off.

Ever since his early teens, people had called him ugly, saying no man would ever want him. Shen Qing had always claimed he was indifferent, dismissing their words as the nonsense of petty fools. But people had emotions. No matter how much he tried to ignore it, some part of him still felt unsettled by it.

Now, he wanted to let all those who once looked down on him see—though most of them were no longer even in the same world as him, and some wouldn’t even have the chance to speak to him now—he still wanted to show off a little. He had the best man in the world, one no one else could ever find, and he was worthy of being loved by him.

But before the wedding, there was still a village matter—one that wasn’t particularly big or small.

Now that the new year had passed, Zhao Youwei and his group were finally set to be exiled. Since most of those involved had been the primary breadwinners of their families, many households chose to sell off their properties and follow them, planning to carve out a new life together in the wilderness. As long as a family stuck together and had some silver on hand, they could survive.

Zhao Youwei’s wife was a quiet and submissive woman. After marrying into his family, she had given birth to two daughters and a son. The older daughters had already married well, while the son had just recently gotten engaged. Unfortunately, on that fateful day, he had accompanied Zhao Youwei to Shen Qing’s house and was arrested alongside him. The bride’s family had come to break off the engagement before the New Year, and since the woman had no opinion of her own, it was her two sons-in-law who helped finalize the matter.

What else could they do? Were they supposed to let their daughter follow them into exile? The fact that they hadn’t demanded compensation was already a mercy.

With both her husband and son being exiled, Zhao Youwei’s wife wanted to follow them. However, as a woman without a man at home, she didn’t dare make decisions on her own about selling the house and land. In the end, she had no choice but to go to Zhao Youdang’s house, crying and pleading for help.

According to Wu Guixiang, she had always been like this—whatever her husband said was final, never once arguing back. However, she was an excellent housekeeper, incredibly diligent and capable. Even after Zhao Youwei had broken his leg, she had cared for him meticulously without a single complaint.

“She’s quite pitiful. Now she’s all alone. Even though she has two sons-in-law, they can’t take care of her forever. Our two families haven’t had much interaction for years, but when she came begging, My husband couldn’t bear to turn her away. So he sent me to ask—could you pull some strings to let her meet with her husband before he’s exiled? They need to decide whether to sell the house and land,” Wu Guixiang explained. Her face showed some sympathy, but there was also frustration. Her husband and son are gone—who else is supposed to make decisions now? In her opinion, Li Jiaofeng was the smart one. She had cut ties with Shen Zhigao completely, shut her doors, and carried on with her life.

Shen Qing responded casually, “That’s hardly a big deal. Just tell her to go to the prison, slip the jailer twenty or thirty coins, and she’ll get to see him. I wasn’t blocking her from visiting.”

While he despised Zhao Youwei, he wouldn’t go out of his way to make things difficult for an innocent woman. But he also wasn’t going to offer any special favors—he simply pointed out the path, and it was up to her to walk it.

Wu Guixiang breathed a sigh of relief. “People in our village just don’t know these things. The moment they have to deal with an official, they freeze up and don’t even know where to go. It’s not just her—I wouldn’t have known either if you hadn’t said so.” She immediately sent her daughter-in-law, Qin Yingzi, home to inform Zhao Youdang.

On the wall, a fat orange cat—Wu Guixiang’s pet—stood up as if ready to follow Qin Yingzi. But after glancing back at its unmoving owner, it hesitated, tilted its head in thought, then sat back down. Meanwhile, in the courtyard, two dogs—Da Huang and Er Hei—sat under the wall, staring up at the cat without making a sound, their tails wagging furiously.

Quan Jie, who was cradled in Shen Qing’s arms, watched the scene intently. Then, all of a sudden, she broke into a wide, toothless grin.

“Oh my! Quan Jie’er can smile now!”

The entire room instantly forgot about the Zhao family’s troubles, their attention entirely captured by the baby. Wu Guixiang even scooped up the cat and held it close to Quan Jie, who, upon seeing it, smiled again. The atmosphere in the house grew lively, and the matter of Zhao Youwei’s exile was momentarily pushed to the back of everyone’s minds.

The next day, Zhao Youdang hitched a cart and personally escorted Zhao Youwei’s wife into the city. Say what you will about him—whether he was weak-willed or just a kind-hearted fool—but even after everything Zhao Youwei had done to him, he still extended a helping hand.

As expected, once they reached the prison and paid the jailer twenty coins, they were allowed inside. The meeting was brief, only lasting a quarter of an hour.

The moment Zhao Youwei’s wife saw him, she burst into tears.

Zhao Youwei, meanwhile, looked completely haggard. The time spent in prison had not been kind to him. The Lantang villagers had all been locked up together, and while they had once respected Zhao Youwei enough to follow his lead, now that they were facing exile, they blamed him for dragging them down. As a result, Zhao Youwei had suffered constant torment behind bars, his body wasting away, his eyes sunken deep into his face.

Seeing his wife, he looked somewhat embarrassed. But when he noticed Zhao Youdang standing behind her, his face immediately darkened. “Why are you here? Did you bring my wife just to laugh at me?!”

But while Zhao Youwei hated Zhao Youdang, the other prisoners had a different reaction. They surged forward, some dropping to their knees, wailing in desperation.

“Village Chief, we were wrong! Please save us! We never should have followed Zhao Youwei’s foolishness!”

“I don’t want to be exiled! My parents are still waiting for me at home—I’m their only son!”

“Village Chief, please talk to Qing Ge’er! I was wrong! Tell him to spare me—I’m his father! He can’t do this to me!”

This last plea came from Shen Zhigao.

Zhao Youwei let out a heavy sigh. “What can I do? The county magistrate has already passed the verdict. You think I have the power to overturn it? Some of your families have already sold their properties and are prepared to follow you. When you get there, live properly. Don’t be so easily swayed by others’ words again. Before you act, think—do you have the brain or the ability to handle the consequences?”

“If you have anything to say to your families, I can pass the message along.”

At this, several prisoners lowered their heads, sobbing. Some were filled with regret; others cried for their elderly parents, who now had to suffer exile with them. But after venting their sorrow, they slowly came to accept their fate. They began entrusting Zhao Youdang with messages for their families.

Only Shen Zhigao continued to wail, begging to see Shen Qing. Zhao Youdang ignored him entirely.

Zhao Youwei scoffed at the pathetic sight. “You think begging him will help? He’s just a dog being ordered around by his wife and a ger! He wouldn’t dare defy Shen Qing to pass along your words.”

Zhao Youdang froze. Then, he slowly turned to look at his brother, his expression dark and unreadable. After a long pause, he let out a soft chuckle.

Even the most patient of men had their limits. He had been willing to help Zhao Youwei’s wife, yet this was the thanks he got.

In a calm voice, he said, “You always thought you were better than me—that the only reason I became village chief was because Father favored me after you broke your leg. You blamed my wife’s family for your injury, and that’s why you’ve always hated me.”

Zhao Youwei gritted his teeth. “Am I wrong? If I hadn’t broken my leg, Father would never have given the position to a useless coward like you!”

Zhao Youdang simply smiled. “You say I let my wife control me, but you’re the one who never would. Just look at your wife—she doesn’t even have the authority to decide whether to sell your land.”

Zhao Youwei hadn’t had a full meal in days. His body swayed as if he could barely hold himself up. Zhao Youdang looked into his eyes and let out a cold laugh.

“Father knew you had a bad temper, so he found you a wife who would always yield to you, someone with no temper and no opinions of her own. He never planned for you to be the village chief.”

With that, Zhao Youdang no longer spared a glance at the staggering Zhao Youwei, nor at the pitifully groveling Shen Zhigao, and simply turned to leave the prison.

In the end, Zhao Youwei’s wife sold the land. This time, she didn’t go to Zhao Youdang for help but instead asked her two sons-in-law to handle it. They were the ones who negotiated with the village chief to finalize the paperwork. It was clear that Zhao Youdang’s words had struck a deep wound in both her and Zhao Youwei.

As for Wang Liuzi’s family, they ultimately didn’t sell their daughter to Song Kaiji. Instead, they arranged a marriage for her with a family in Xiaoji Village, demanding a high bride price. Apart from this hastily married-off daughter, the rest of the family packed up their belongings and joined the exile group, heading toward the bitter cold lands.

In one sweep, six or seven families left the village. As the group set off, Shen Zhigao hobbled along with a wooden cane, anxiously scanning the crowd, looking left and right.

“Where’s my family? My mother wouldn’t just abandon me! Is my father struggling to walk? Did you all leave them behind?”

Frantic, he grabbed every Lantang villager he could find, questioning them. His desperation earned him scoldings and shoves from the impatient officers.

“Stop running around! Are you trying to escape?”

A whip cracked across his back. Though the strike wasn’t too forceful, it still stung. Shen Zhigao hunched over, gasping in pain. Most of the Lantang villagers present resented both him and Zhao Youwei and had no desire to talk to him.

Finally, an elderly man with a softer heart sighed and answered, “Your parents are gone. Your mother went first. After she passed, there was no one to care for your father, and he followed soon after.”

Shen Zhigao froze, standing in stunned silence for a long time before finally stammering, “Then… then what about Jiaofeng?”

The old man shook his head. “Never heard anything about Li Jiaofeng selling her house or land. But she did split from Shen Zhuang, kicked him out of the house. She’s raising your boy, Shen Qiang, by herself now.”

The old man glanced at Shen Zhigao, his expression unreadable—whether it was meant to comfort him or to cut deeper.

“At least you have a son. Even if you don’t survive the journey, your bloodline won’t be cut off. Wasn’t that what you wanted most in life? You should be satisfied.”

A long silence followed.

Then, from the depths of the exile procession, a wretched, heartbroken wail rang out.

But the march did not stop.

Aside from a few brief glances, no one paid it any mind.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

NOTICE: EXTRA CHAPTERS WILL BE PASSWORD LOCKED. Pw info in TOC