Author Archives: Thandar

Ever since Shen Zhiwei was drowned to death, Miao Qiuduo’s family had fled Shiqu Village like dogs being chased away.

“You tell me, isn’t this Qing Ge’er something else? How can he be so bold? He even dared to hit his own father and forced his own uncle to death!” Huang Wulang patted his chest, still feeling lingering fear. In these times, clan values and filial piety were deeply ingrained, and Shen Qing’s actions completely overturned their understanding. Now that a life had been lost, he seemed even more ruthless.

“And you said your sister was easy to talk to? I don’t think she even takes you seriously!”

Miao Qiuduo was grinding her teeth in anger. “I never thought my brothers and sisters would be so quick to flatter the high and step on the low, without any regard for family ties!” And her mother! Every word was in favor of her elder sister and Qing Ge’er. Just because they were now successful and their household was thriving!

Yet she conveniently ignored the fact that she had not maintained contact with her maternal family for the past ten years. If anything, she was the truly selfish one, always siding with whoever was better off.

Huang Jinbao snorted twice on the side. “Cousin isn’t that bad… His uncle was the one who got Cousin Zhang killed—Zhang was his own younger brother! And he also caused Aunt to miscarry and become infertile. Cousin taking revenge on him was only right… As for his father, they cut ties long ago. He wasn’t a good person either…”

Even though Shen Qing had already rejected him and hadn’t shown him the slightest kindness, Huang Jinbao still couldn’t help but think about him. He was unwilling to hear his parents badmouth Shen Qing, and instinctively wanted to defend him.

“Shut up! He doesn’t even like you, and yet you’re still siding with him?” Miao Qiuduo, furious at his uselessness, kicked Huang Jinbao. “You’re really something! You’ve actually fallen for that ugly ger!”

Huang Jinbao wanted to protest that his cousin wasn’t ugly, but after rubbing his sore leg and seeing the fierce look in his mother’s eyes, he swallowed his words in grievance.

Miao Qiuduo knew full well that Shen Zhiwei had gotten what he deserved. But she wasn’t the only one—many in Lantang Village felt the same way. They believed that while Shen Zhiwei might deserve to die, he shouldn’t have been forced to death by Qing Ge’er!

If it had been Miao Xing and Miao Wang standing up for the Miao family and making Shen Zhiwei pay with his life, that would have been completely justified. But since it was Shen Qing, suddenly it became a case of forcing someone to their death, a grave transgression.

Because if Qing Ge’er could drive Shen Zhiwei to his death, then he could just as easily show no mercy to his aunt. And if he could do that, what was stopping others from following suit, showing disrespect to their elders, and disregarding so-called family ties? Shen Zhiwei’s actions became less important—what mattered was that these people stood on the same side as him. No one was without faults, and who could guarantee that they hadn’t done something wrong in the past? If even a small mistake could justify such treatment from the younger generation, how could they accept that?

Their perspectives were shaped by their self-interest, so naturally, they couldn’t approve of Shen Qing’s actions.

And wasn’t that exactly what was happening now? Shen Qing had shown no leniency toward his own father and uncle, so why would he make exceptions for his aunt? Miao Qiuduo was, of course, furious.

This time, they had returned believing their plans were foolproof. The grocery shop in the prefectural city had been shut down, and now they had to leave, unwillingly. Even though they had been living as they always had, in their minds, they had already counted Shen Qing’s wealth as their own, imagining how they would spend it. Now that they had to go back empty-handed, it felt like a tremendous loss. The fact that Shen Qing refused to let them take advantage of him felt, instead, like he owed them something, leaving them seething with resentment.

Adding to their frustration, while staying at Huang Sanlang’s house, he had initially hoped his sister-in-law would speak on his behalf, persuading the Lantang Village workshop to offer him a discount on starch sausages. Yet, instead, she had managed to offend everyone, shattering his hopes. As a result, the Huang family’s tone toward them had also grown increasingly unpleasant.

Life was going completely against her! Miao Qiuduo blamed everything on Shen Qing, and as her resentment built up, she hated him to the core.

While her family was still torn about whether to return to the prefectural city, they unexpectedly met the manager of a pawnshop. Anping County wasn’t big, and there weren’t that many businesspeople—most of them knew each other, and even if they hadn’t met in person, they had at least heard of one another. Huang Sanlang’s family had been running a grocery shop in the county for over twenty years and had some ties with this manager.

At first, Miao Qiuduo used Shen Qing’s name to elevate her own status, afraid that the manager would look down on her. But she was too bitter, and within a few sentences, she had turned Shen Qing into gossip, her jealousy practically oozing from her words. “This time, we were just too sentimental, thinking that since we were real family, he’d surely help us out. Who would have thought he wouldn’t see it that way? And now we’ve ended up with nothing.”

As she spoke, Huang Sanlang looked a little uncomfortable, and his wife rolled her eyes impatiently.

Family? There was no one in their household as heartless as the fifth branch of their family, and yet she had the gall to talk about others?

“My nephew only has eyes for money now—he doesn’t see his own family at all. I won’t say much, but who even knows where that money of his came from? I wouldn’t touch it even if you paid me. And every day in the county, he struts around pretending to be a man, cozying up with this one and that one… Tsk.”

Miao Qiuduo originally just wanted to spread some nasty rumors about Shen Qing to vent her anger. But she never expected that one of the pawnshop clerks would recognize who she was talking about. He had seen Shen Qing before at the stuffed sausage shop and had found him familiar but couldn’t recall where from. Now, hearing Miao Qiuduo’s words, a realization hit him like a bolt of lightning, and he blurted out, “Ah, it’s him! That Young Master Shen who runs the blooming sausage shop?”

Miao Qiuduo curled her lips. “Who else? What ‘Young Master Shen’? He’s just my sister’s little ger. Put him in some fancy clothes and cover his ger mark, and he dares to pretend to be a man! Pah! A ger is a ger—even if he wore the emperor’s robes, he’d never be a crown prince!”

Belittling Shen Qing like this made her feel immensely satisfied, as if by dragging him down, she had elevated herself above him, filling her with a false sense of superiority.

With that kind of attitude, who would still see her as Shen Qing’s relative? She was more like his enemy. The pawnshop manager and his clerk exchanged glances, then pulled Miao Qiuduo aside to ask about Shen Qing’s background. Once their information was compared, the mystery surrounding him only deepened. According to Old Lady Miao and Miao Qiuduo, Shen Qing’s current success was due to catching the attention of a powerful benefactor from out of town. That benefactor had recently arrived in Anping County and needed capable people, and Shen Qing had seized the opportunity.

But the people at the pawnshop had been in the county for years—where was this so-called out-of-town benefactor? Wasn’t it just Shen Qing himself?

Was he pretending to be his own benefactor? If this benefactor didn’t exist, then where had this ger’s money come from?

The pawnshop manager suddenly recalled the exquisite jewelry Shen Qing had once pawned.

“His family would prepare a dowry for him? He’s bluffing!” Miao Qiuduo immediately exposed Shen Qing’s previous excuse. “My sister’s mother-in-law is stingy beyond belief and has always despised gers. Forget about preparing a dowry—she’d rather sell him off and send him bare-handed to a husband’s home!”

She did know Shen Qing’s mother well.

“Then his money definitely didn’t come from a proper source.” The pawnshop manager’s eyes gleamed—he had been thinking about this matter for a long time, and now he was finally seeing a lead. Other gers might have made money through flesh trade before starting a small business and working their way up. But Shen Qing? With that face? That was impossible. Those pieces of jewelry must have had another origin.

Had he unearthed an ancient tomb in the mountains? Or some hidden treasure? That seemed like the most likely explanation. But whatever the truth was, Shen Qing’s wealth had become a tempting target. The pawnshop manager and Miao Qiuduo quickly came to an agreement: they would expose Shen Qing’s identity in public, making it impossible for him to stay in the county, and then force him to reveal the source of his money, splitting it fifty-fifty.

And after that, Miao Qiuduo could use this leverage to force her sister to marry Qing Ge’er off to Jinbao, locking him up in the inner residence. Once that happened, Shen Qing’s rural workshops would all become their property.

To be fair, this plan wasn’t exactly legal, but such schemes had succeeded plenty of times before. For example, if a powerful family took a liking to someone’s inherited craftsmanship, they would frame the husband, either killing him or throwing him in prison, then forcibly taking the wife as a concubine to obtain their family’s secret recipe.

In this era, becoming a concubine wasn’t just about marriage—it was a way to legally turn a woman or a ger into someone’s property.

Of course, there were many illegal aspects to this. For instance, why would the wife willingly become a concubine? But once she was forcibly taken into the household, or if her reputation was ruined, she would have no choice. And once the man of the family was gone, who cared about the wishes of the women and gers left behind? In the face of power, there was always room for manipulation. In fact, the backer behind this pawnshop had succeeded in such schemes more times than one could count.

Bullying the weak had become second nature to them, and now they simply saw Shen Qing as another easy target—a countryside ger using deception to put on airs. What was there to be afraid of?

So, on this very day, Miao Qiuduo took the lead in publicly exposing Shen Qing’s identity.

What they didn’t know was that ever since Miao Qiuduo had threatened to reveal his identity back at the Miao household, Shen Qing had already been considering the matter.

But he wasn’t thinking about how troublesome it would be to be exposed. Instead, he was starting to wonder—should he reveal his identity himself?

Originally, he had disguised himself as a man because he was weak. If he went somewhere, he would be threatened and intimidated. If he tried to buy something, he would be looked down on. Because in this world, men were valued while gers were despised. No one respected gers. At the time, Shen Qing had no way to earn respect or be treated fairly as a ger, so he could only borrow the identity of a man to protect himself.

But a borrowed identity was still borrowed.

Did people respect him as Shen Qing, or only because of the male persona he had put on?

It wasn’t until Miao Qiuduo’s threats that Shen Qing suddenly realized—at this point, was he really still afraid of being exposed?

There had been times in the past when Shen Qing not only pretended to be a man but had even wished he truly was one, especially after Shen Zhang had just died.

If he were a man, then he and the Miao family wouldn’t have suffered so much injustice in the Shen household. He could have protected his mother and stood up for the Miao family. If he were a man, he wouldn’t have had to go through so much trouble just to establish himself.

If he were a man, back when they were kids, Wang Liuzi and the others wouldn’t have dared to bully him.

But that was the Shen Qing of a long time ago. As time passed, looking back now, he realized that what he had wished for was not to truly become a man, but rather to have the same rights and treatment as one. It was his first awareness of injustice, an initial awakening to the concept of fairness.

With no one to guide him or teach him what fairness truly was, the only path he could see back then to achieving it was to become a man.

But now, he understood—if gers and women could inherently receive the same rights and treatment, who would care whether they were a ger or a woman? Who would care whether they had the so-called ability to “continue the family line”?

The women he had encountered in the post-apocalyptic world—Qu Weiwei, Ge Bingbing, Chen Jiaxi—none of them had ever felt inferior because they were women. Not a single one had considered themselves lesser than men, nor had any of them resented their identity as women. They were women, yet they were in no way inferior to men.

Even Yu Le, who had once suffered misfortune.

From them, Shen Qing had learned a great deal. He learned to face his gender head-on, to stop blaming himself for the faults of society and his environment, to no longer desire to be a man. Because now, as a ger, he had already surpassed most men by a thousandfold.

He wanted to shed this false identity of a man. After all, as long as he wore this disguise, his success and excellence would always be overshadowed by societal perceptions. He did not want that shadow. He wanted to prove that even as a ger, he could still be just as successful and just as worthy of respect.

The respected—perhaps even feared—owner of the stuffed sausage shop didn’t have to be some “Young Master Shen” from out of town. He could stand openly and righteously as who he truly was—Shen Qing, a ger.

Shen Qing had thought about this for some time, only hesitating because he hadn’t found the right moment to reveal himself. After all, it wasn’t just about changing his public identity; he had also spun a web of lies around himself. And those lies… were what troubled him the most. He didn’t know how to unravel them.

But today, Miao Qiuduo and the pawnshop clerk had conveniently given him the perfect push.

So he dropped his disguise and stood before them, unshaken, and asked outright, “I am a ger—so what?”

Miao Qiuduo and the pawnshop clerk were stunned. Shen Qing’s reaction was completely outside their expectations. Why wasn’t he panicking? Why wasn’t he flustered?

Shouldn’t he be breaking down in shame, covering his face with his sleeve, or desperately denying that he was a ger? Then they could have pounced on him, seized him, exposed his identity completely, and made sure he could never show his face in Anping County again…

Why did he seem not ashamed at all, but rather proud?

The pawnshop clerk hesitated, momentarily intimidated by Shen Qing’s presence. He stammered, “Y-You’re just some countryside ger! How dare you pretend to be Young Master Shen and deceive so many people? How could a country ger possibly have enough money to open a shop? Your money must have come from some shady source! You’d better confess—”

Before he could finish, Shen Qing stepped forward.

The clerk: !!! Why is he coming toward me instead of being scared?!

A second later, a sharp slap landed across his face, sending a ringing noise through his ears.

He looked at Shen Qing in disbelief.

“That’s twice now,” Shen Qing said coldly. He then turned and delivered another slap to the pawnshop’s counter clerk.

The counter clerk: ?? I haven’t even said anything yet!!

Shen Qing kindly clarified for him. “Last time I went to your pawnshop to pawn something, you accused me of having stolen goods. And now you dare bring that up again? It seems you haven’t learned your lesson, have you?”

Miao Qiuduo was dumbfounded. It took her a moment to shriek, “How dare you hit people?! Do you have no respect for the law?!”

“The law?” Shen Qing sneered. “Aunt, don’t you find it laughable for those words to come from your mouth? They can slander me however they please, but I can’t teach them a lesson in return? And looking at your stance, you’re not just here to yell at me, are you? But have you all forgotten—whose territory is this? Whose building is this?”

As soon as he finished speaking, the back door of the shop was kicked open. Ruyi stormed in with six or seven young men, along with four strong, broad-shouldered gers, all wielding clubs and wooden sticks. They surrounded Miao Qiuduo and the others in an instant.

Miao Qiuduo was petrified. This was not how things were supposed to go! She had never seen such a display before. Those young men and burly gers looked menacing, their eyes glaring like they were ready to devour people. Terrified, she let out a piercing scream and buried herself in Huang Wulang’s arms, not daring to lift her head.

Huang Wulang quickly glanced at the pawnshop clerks, only to find them just as horrified, completely at a loss. The men they had brought along were even worse—soft as noodles, defeated in mere moments by Shen Qing’s people.

Utterly crushed. Huang Wulang regretted everything. He should have known better—what kind of person would dare to drive his own uncle to his death? Only a fool would think the pawnshop manager’s connections in the county could stand up to this. “Young Master Shen” was no ordinary commoner!

“Qing Ge’er, Qing Ge’er, this is all a misunderstanding! We’re real family… Your aunt was only worried that life in the county was too hard for a ger like you… We—we were deceived into this!” Huang Wulang babbled, tightly clutching Miao Qiuduo as they cowered in the corner.

“Don’t get too full of yourself! You still dared to hit me!” the counter clerk snarled, clutching his face, but his tone was more bark than bite. Shen Qing’s slap had left his teeth loose and his mouth filled with the taste of blood. “I’m going to the magistrate’s office to report you!”

Shen Qing let out a cold laugh and stepped closer. The clerk, who had just been putting up a tough front, immediately shrank back in fear. But Shen Qing grabbed his collar, yanked him forward, and threw him to the ground, stomping his foot onto the man’s face.

“Go report me, then,” Shen Qing said icily. “Which official in the county are you cozy with? Which registrar or clerk do you think will make a fuss over this slap? Let’s see how much trouble you can stir up. And if you don’t go, I might just take the trouble to do it myself.”

His voice dropped to a chilling whisper. “Did you think I didn’t know about the dirty dealings your pawnshop was involved in back then? Do you think I still don’t know now? Go ahead, run to the authorities. Let’s see which crime is taken more seriously—me slapping you, or your pawnshop colluding with corrupt clerks and secretly fencing stolen goods.”

The counter clerk lay there, his mouth gaping open. “You—you—” He stammered, but no words came out.

Shen Qing glanced toward the door. “Brother Jin.”

Gold-Tooth, who had been standing frozen in shock, had even dropped his stuffed sausage on the ground. But hearing Shen Qing call him, he only hesitated for a moment before quickly recovering and stepping forward respectfully. “Young Master Shen.”

“The shop space I rented to them—can I terminate the lease?”

Gold-Tooth was the one who had arranged the rental agreement back then, but Shen Qing had no intention of letting these people stay any longer. He wasn’t about to keep them around just to irritate himself.

“Y-Yes, of course!” Gold-Tooth forced himself to shake off his daze and focus. “It was a one-year lease. If Young Master Shen returns their deposit and compensates one month’s rent, you can terminate the contract!”

Shen Qing nodded. “Then cancel it for me. Just the thought of renting this place to them disgusts me.” He pulled out a silver ingot from his pocket and handed it to Gold-Tooth. “The extra is for you. Take care of it for me.”

Then he turned to his own people. “Throw everything in this shop out. Throw them out too.”

His men immediately got to work. Tieshan joined in, furious. Saying they were throwing things out was putting it lightly—this was practically wrecking the shop. They grabbed whatever they could and tossed it out the door.

The onlookers outside had been hesitant to step forward at first, wary of the commotion. But soon, a few bold ones darted in, snatching up whatever landed on the ground and running off.

The owner of the Cuihua Shop clutched his chest as if he were in deep pain. “I never said I wanted to terminate the lease! How can you just cancel it on your own? Is there no law in this place?!” He deeply regretted getting involved with the pawnshop’s clerk. Though they shared the same backer, this shop was part of his business performance. The pawnshop wouldn’t compensate him for such a huge loss!

Shen Qing simply watched their wailing with cold indifference. “If you try to scheme against others, you should be prepared to hit an iron wall. Did you really think people would just let you manipulate them as you please? Even now, you still see me as that naive village ger you could easily bully and control? You’re far more foolish than I thought.”

He withdrew his foot and kicked the counter clerk away. The pawnshop workers were still defiant, and the one who had been stepped on stared at Shen Qing with venomous hatred, seething over the humiliation.

However, Gold-Tooth leaned in and whispered a few words into their ears. Their resistance instantly deflated.

The county registrar and Clerk Yang were not people they could afford to offend. Even if they wanted to sue, they had no real chance of winning. Besides, just thinking about it rationally—going to the county office over something as trivial as getting slapped? The magistrate would only see it as a joke. If they were lucky, they wouldn’t be thrown out with a flogging!

They had spent their whole lives bullying others, and now, for the first time, they were the ones being bullied. They were suffocated with frustration and unwillingness, yet there was nothing they could do!

Lin Ning glanced around, then tugged at Shen Qing’s sleeve and whispered, “If they do report you, I’ll testify for you. They were the ones who surrounded you first, and you only fought back. My father will believe me.”

Shen Qing was briefly taken aback—he had almost forgotten that Lin Ning and Lin Zao were still there. Lin Zao was staring in shock, while Lin Ning’s eyes were shining with excitement. “You were really impressive just now! That was amazing!”

So… the little mirror hadn’t been given for nothing?

At first, Shen Qing hadn’t even considered using Lin Ning’s influence. He had been careful not to go too far—he had only slapped the two who had slandered him, and the others were merely surrounded to intimidate them. If the pawnshop people liked to scare others, why couldn’t he turn the tables on them?

Throwing out their belongings was just part of terminating the contract. It wasn’t like he refused to compensate them—he could just pay extra and buy himself some peace of mind. Even if things went to court, there wouldn’t be any real consequences. At most, he would have to send some generous gifts to the county registrar and Clerk Yang.

But now that Lin Ning had spoken up, Shen Qing started thinking—if he could rely on the registrar and the clerks, then why not establish a connection with the magistrate as well?

As he turned to smile at Lin Ning, he saw the young ger’s face flush slightly. Lin Ning lowered his head, looking a bit embarrassed as he mumbled, “I didn’t know before… You’re a ger too… I’m a ger as well. S-So… can we be friends?”

Shen Qing: ? Something about this feels off.

But… friends?

Shen Qing hesitated. He… had never really had friends.

Especially in the past. He could never get along with the gers and girls in the village, spending his days running up and down the mountains instead. Unlike others, he never had the luxury of free time to make friends or maintain relationships—his every moment was spent trying to fill his stomach.

Later… did Lian Rong count? No, Lian Rong had always felt more like a little sister. And Ou Ge’er? They were never really close, only connected through Second Aunt Lian.

And in the post-apocalyptic world… Maybe, at first, he had considered Song Kaiji a friend. But they had quickly ended up together. As for Qu Weiwei, Tang Wenjie, and Chen Jiaxi, there was camaraderie, but their roles as subordinates were far more distinct.

Or rather, they were Song Kaiji’s friends, and Shen Qing had only developed bonds with them through his connection to Song Kaiji.

Only now did Shen Qing realize—his life had always lacked friendship. He had been too focused on survival, always weighing whether a person was useful to him before deciding how much time, emotion, and effort to invest in them. Even with Song Kaiji and Qu Weiwei, his initial approach had been calculated.

He had never opened his heart to anyone without reason, nor had he ever thought it necessary.

Shen Qing looked at Lin Ning, who was staring at him with bright, sincere eyes. In that moment, Lin Ning no longer seemed like the county magistrate’s son. His expression was pure, and his invitation didn’t feel like just a simple offer of friendship—it felt like an opportunity. An opportunity for Shen Qing to complete himself, to take another step forward in his life.

Shen Qing scratched his head, the sharp and decisive figure from moments ago now looking a little dazed. Awkwardly, he admitted, “I… I’ve never really had a friend before. I might not be very good at it. But if you don’t mind, I’d like to try.”

Under the cover of his sleeve, Lin Ning pinched his thigh hard to keep himself from grinning too foolishly. He wanted his smile to look normal, but his eyes curved with warmth as he replied solemnly, “Alright.”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

That evening, when Second Aunt Lian returned home from work, Lian Rong vividly recounted the events of the day to her. Seeing Wang Shi’s eyes swollen like walnuts, yet still glaring at their side like a jealous rooster, Second Aunt Lian felt even more annoyed.

She wanted to go to Old Lady Lian to argue her case, but Old Lady Lian was clearly impatient, her expression dark and unwilling to listen. Left with no choice, Second Aunt Lian returned to her room and began whispering to her husband, working her persuasion in bed.

“You take a look at your eldest sister-in-law and the kind of things she does—she just can’t stand to see our family doing well,” Second Aunt Lian said, carefully watching her husband’s expression as she spoke gently. “We’re all one family, all share the Lian surname. If it’s about helping out your elder brother, it’s not like we can’t.”

Afraid her husband might immediately suggest helping the eldest branch, Second Aunt Lian quickly added, “But that’s not the issue here! If someone wants help, they should at least ask properly, right? If she lowered her head, said a few soft words to me, and compensated me for the headscarf she tossed into the pigsty before, I could at least try to let bygones be bygones and look after her children when I can. But what did she do instead? Do we owe her something? Not only does she expect us to help, but she holds a grudge when we don’t! She even sneaked into Ou Ge’er’s room to steal things. And this is just because Ou Ge’er craftwork is something Qing Ge’er came up with himself—imagine if he were working for some wealthy patron! You know how Qing Ge’er has strict rules at the workshop—he’s said it again and again, not even a sliver of meat or a single sweet potato is to be stolen, or they’ll be kicked out and never hired again. Those wealthy folks despise workers who aren’t clean-handed. Doesn’t she realize she could ruin Ou Ge’er’s livelihood too?”

Lian Lao’er lay on the kang, staring at the ceiling in silence. He was an honest man, and his son, Lian Shi, had inherited that same temperament. Lian Rong, on the other hand, took after Second Aunt Lian—lively, talkative, and sharp-witted. But even this honest man had been feeling increasingly uneasy lately.

Their family’s situation wasn’t like the Shen family’s. Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen had been blatantly biased from the start, but in the Lian family, things hadn’t always been like this. Both he and his elder brother had been treated equally when it came to marriage—his parents arranged for his elder brother to marry a woman, and they did the same for him. That was how it should be. And compared to other families in the village, especially the Shen family, Lian Lao’er had always felt grateful, believing his parents had treated him fairly.

Back then, while the family did lean slightly toward favoring the eldest son, they hadn’t particularly shortchanged him either. Sure, Lian Bao got to eat and wear better than Lian Rong or Lian Qiao, but that was because he was a boy. When Lian Shi was young, he was treated the same way—his parents weren’t biased toward the eldest branch, they were just equally focused on favoring their sons. Wang Shi had the luck of birthing two boys, while their second branch didn’t—what was there to argue about?

At the root of it, maybe it was because neither branch had anyone particularly outstanding before, so their capabilities and living standards had always been about the same, leaving little room for favoritism. But now that the family was doing better, now that his branch was making money, why had their parents changed?

Lian Lao’er didn’t want to admit his parents had become biased, so he pushed all the blame onto Wang Shi. Second Aunt Lian kept whispering about all the grievances their children had suffered, and Lian Lao’er turned over, speaking gruffly, “So what do you expect me to do? No matter how bad she is, she’s been with my elder brother for so many years, and they have all those children together. We’re already grandparents now—what, do you want our mother to force my brother to divorce her and marry someone else? Just endure it. Go buy some locks in town, and when we’re not home, lock up the doors and windows to keep her out.”

Hearing her husband complain about Wang Shi just like she did, Second Aunt Lian felt a little encouraged and gathered her courage to say, “I’m not saying your brother should divorce her—maybe their marriage is perfectly fine, and we’d just look like villains trying to break them up. What I’m thinking is… can’t we split the family?”

“What?!” Lian Lao’er nearly jumped off the kang, his tone immediately turning harsh.

“We can take care of Father and Mother! We won’t ask for any money or property—we’ll leave it all to the eldest branch, and we won’t expect them to provide for our parents either!” Second Aunt Lian quickly laid out the plan she had been mulling over for a long time. She knew that if she didn’t offer a major concession, there was no way to break free from the eldest branch’s leeching. But she was willing to give up short-term benefits if it meant she wouldn’t have to be drained by them for a lifetime!

Hearing her out, Lian Lao’er’s expression relaxed slightly, but he still frowned. “We can’t split up the family like this. In the village, families only separate after the elders pass away. If we say we want to split now, wouldn’t that mean we’re hoping for Father and Mother to… No, this won’t work. If word gets out, the whole village will scorn us.”

Second Aunt Lian felt disappointed but had already expected his refusal. She knew splitting the family was no small matter and that convincing her husband wouldn’t be easy in just one conversation. Being rejected this time didn’t discourage her. At least Lian Lao’er’s reaction wasn’t overly strong—it seemed like he was tempted but still restrained by filial piety and village customs. Thinking quickly, she said, “Fine, we’ll put the matter of splitting the family aside for now, but we can’t keep going on like this either. We, as children, have our responsibilities, I won’t argue about that. But I gave birth to my own children, and I will look out for them first. Ou Ge’er is getting close to marriage age. Any money he earns from Qing Ge’er, no matter how much, should be kept for himself to use as his dowry.”

This meant that any money Lian Ou earned would no longer be handed over to the communal family fund. The second branch was starting to stash away their own savings!

Lian Lao’er struggled internally but eventually nodded. “Alright… Ou Ge’er is just a ger, how much can he even make? No need to tell Mother about this.”

Seeing him agree, Second Aunt Lian grinned happily. First, they would set aside Ou Ge’er’s earnings. Then, they would slowly separate Lian Shi, Yu Ge’er, and all the other children. Once they could keep their own money and stop handing it over to the communal fund, they’d essentially be living like they were already split from the family, even if they still shared a courtyard. “Then I’ll head into town in a few days to buy some good locks.”

If they were going to start saving money, then those locks would be more important than ever!

The next day, Second Aunt Lian went straight to Old Lady Lian to ask for money to buy locks. Given the incident the previous day, where Wang Shi had stolen from Lian Ou’s room, Old Lady Lian, though reluctant, still handed over the money. Soon after, heavy locks were installed on the doors of the western wing, and even the windows had small locks. Seeing this, Wang Shi was so furious she nearly ground her teeth to dust. Wasn’t this a blatant slap to her face?

She went to Old Lady Lian to complain, only to be met with a scolding. At this point, even Old Lady Lian was fed up with her—so many household conflicts had stemmed from Wang Shi’s jealousy, and if this kept up, the second branch might completely turn their backs on the family!

Inwardly, Old Lady Lian resented her past judgment—why had she chosen such a troublemaker for her eldest son? But then she remembered—her real pick had been Shen Lingzhi. Thinking of this, she could only let out a long, weary sigh.

Meanwhile, in the Shen family, Shen Zhigao had been recovering for over a month. The wounds on his body had mostly healed, though one of his legs had been injured badly, leaving him with a slight limp. Now, he had to rely on a wooden cane just to walk.

That month had been absolute misery for the Shen family. Shen Zhiwei was dead, Zhao Aiye had been sent off in marriage to a faraway village, and Old Man Shen was bedridden. Li Jiaofeng was too preoccupied with her own child to care much for him, only tending to him occasionally. Old Lady Shen had to take care of her paralyzed husband while also dealing with Shen Zhuang’s constant tantrums. No one tended to the fields anymore—they had long been overgrown with weeds. As for where their next season’s grain would come from, that was anyone’s guess.

As soon as Shen Zhigao could get out of bed, Old Lady Shen began urging him to go to the county town. “Go bring your eldest sister back to help for a couple of days. My old bones can’t take this anymore.”

There was no one left in the house to work like an ox or a horse, and she had finally become the true beast of burden. Though Li Jiaofeng was still around, first, she didn’t listen to her; second, what kind of daughter-in-law would be expected to personally tend to her father-in-law? These filthy and exhausting chores still fell on Old Lady Shen! “Tell your eldest sister to bring some money too—our grain is about to run out.”

Shen Zhigao muttered, “Last time when Qiangzi was sick, we went to borrow money from Eldest Sister, and she said she didn’t have any…” If Shen Lingzhi had given them money back then, they wouldn’t have had to sell Shen Xiaojian, and none of the following disasters would have happened. Thinking back, Shen Zhiwei still held some resentment toward Shen Lingzhi.

“How is that the same? Qiangzi is just her nephew, but this is her own father!” Old Lady Shen snapped. Hearing this, Shen Zhigao felt she had a point, so he asked Li Jiaofeng to borrow a cart from the village chief and headed to the county—his leg certainly wouldn’t let him walk all the way there!

However, when he arrived at the county and found Shen Lingzhi’s house, he knocked on the door for a long time, but no one answered. At first, Shen Zhigao thought she was avoiding him, but as time dragged on and he couldn’t hear a single sound from inside, he started feeling uneasy.

After hesitating for a moment, he knocked on the neighbor’s door.

“You mean Old Wang’s house at the end there?” Wang was Shen Lingzhi’s husband’s surname. Shen Zhigao quickly nodded. “Excuse me, have they gone out? When will they be back?”

The neighbor gave him a once-over before replying, “They’re not coming back.”

Shen Zhigao was stunned. “What do you mean they’re not coming back? Where did they go?”

“Who are you to them?” The neighbor sized him up and questioned him thoroughly. Upon learning that he was Shen Lingzhi’s younger brother—come to seek refuge, or rather, to freeload—it was obvious to anyone what his intentions were. A hint of disdain flickered in the neighbor’s eyes, but they still patiently explained, “Old Wang passed away at the beginning of the month. His wife sold this house, took her three children, and moved away. We don’t know where they went.”

Shen Zhigao stood dazed for a long time before he finally recalled that the last time he had come to borrow money from Shen Lingzhi, she had told him about her struggles—her husband had fallen ill, and all their money had been spent on medicine, leaving her unable to lend anything.

But why would he have cared about Shen Lingzhi’s troubles? He had only been focused on squeezing every last drop from his sister, on reaching into her pockets and taking the last coin for himself!

And now, just like that, Shen Lingzhi was gone! His family’s grain supply was nearly empty, he couldn’t borrow money, and he couldn’t bring Shen Lingzhi back to help with the work. What was his family supposed to do now?

From a distance, at the entrance of the alleyway, Shen Qing watched as Shen Zhigao squatted in front of the small courtyard, wailing in despair, pounding on the door with frustration. The neighbors had already been frightened by his display and had hurriedly retreated into their homes, shutting their doors tightly.

Shen Qing hadn’t expected to run into Shen Zhigao here. After that night, he hadn’t seen anyone from the Shen family again. At this moment, he tilted his head and quietly said to Gold-Tooth, “Forget it, let’s not bother looking at this house.”

Gold-Tooth was puzzled. “Where did this lunatic blocking the door come from?”

Shen Qing didn’t mention that he recognized Shen Zhigao. In fact, he had just learned that this house had belonged to Shen Lingzhi. Gold-Tooth had only told him that he recently acquired a small courtyard at a great bargain, especially with good fortune attached—the son of the previous owner had passed the entrance exam for a child scholar (tongsheng) at a young age. Though the old man had passed away, his wife planned to sell the house and move to a residence near the prefectural academy so the boy could focus on his studies and, with luck, one day become a successful scholar.

Many people had their eyes on this house. Even though it was just a small courtyard, who wouldn’t want to absorb a bit of its scholarly aura? A child scholar was already impressive in Anping County—perhaps living in this house would bring similar fortune to its new owner.

Hearing that this unseen cousin had done well for himself, Shen Qing felt genuinely pleased. He loathed and despised the Shen family, but that did not include Shen Lingzhi, whom he had never met. She, like him, was a victim of the Shen family.

However, this house was no longer an option for purchase. If Shen Zhigao refused to let go and kept coming back to make a scene, and then discovered that Shen Qing had bought it, it would only bring unnecessary trouble.

Still, thinking of Shen Lingzhi, Shen Qing was reminded of something else. He turned to Gold-Tooth and asked, “Brother Jin, do you know the other brokers in town?”

Gold-Tooth’s instincts immediately flared up. Was Shen Qing dissatisfied with his services and looking to expand his network? However, since the question was asked, he humbly replied, “I wouldn’t say I know them well. Some I don’t get along with, but I’m familiar with most of them.”

Rivals in business, even enemies, still knew of each other.

Shen Qing thought for a moment and described a person from his memory: “A middle-aged woman, around forty years old? She has a black mole, about the size of a soybean, near the right side of her lip. She’s always followed by a few young men.”

Gold-Tooth immediately knew who he was talking about. “That sounds like Madam Cheng from the south side of town. Why, do you know her?”

Shen Qing shook his head. “She recently went to Lantang Village and bought a little girl named Shen Xiaojian.”

Shen—the same surname. It seemed this must have some connection to Shen Qing. Gold-Tooth studied his expression carefully and tactfully offered, “Would you like me to help track down that girl?”

“No need.” Shen Qing refused without hesitation. After a brief pause, he took out a small piece of silver from his pocket and handed it to Gold-Tooth. “If you have any dealings with Madam Cheng, pass along a message—just ask her not to sell that girl into any unsavory places. The rest, I don’t particularly care about.”

Gold-Tooth, however, pushed the silver back. “Rest assured, Young Master Shen. Madam Cheng runs a respectable business. The girls she buys are usually sold to wealthy households as maids, married off to poor families as wives, or taken in as concubines by middle-class families. She never deals in brothels or lowly establishments.”

Only then did Shen Qing feel at ease. Shen Xiaojian had been unpleasant, but she was, after all, just a child—not even ten years old yet. However wicked she had been, it was still limited, and she had been influenced by her parents. This was as much as he could do; if Madam Cheng stayed away from brothels and red-light districts, then the rest would depend on Shen Xiaojian’s own fate.

Since the house was off the table, Shen Qing and Gold-Tooth returned to the fried sausage shop. Gold-Tooth was quite fond of these fried snacks and went off to order something on his own.

The weather was growing hotter, and business was slowing down compared to before. Meanwhile, the neighboring shop selling sweetened drinks was seeing an increase in customers. Ruyi, watching enviously, sighed, “By the time summer arrives, even fewer people will want fried food. Everyone will be craving cold drinks—now that’s where the real money is. Back at the magistrate’s manor, we used to make chilled drinks. The syrup is easy to prepare, but ice is rare. You have to cut it in winter and store it in an ice cellar so you can use it the next year.”

Shen Qing was struck with inspiration. “Do we have an ice cellar at our estate? If not, we should have one built.”

He had a ready-made ice-making machine called Ge Bingbing, and it didn’t even require electricity. He could have Ge Bingbing make ice, store it in his space, and bring it over as needed.

Since the shop next door specialized in sweet drinks, it wouldn’t be wise to compete directly. But partnering with them could be an excellent idea. The details, of course, could be left to Ruyi to handle.

As the two were chatting, someone called out to him from the side. “Young Master Shen.”

Shen Qing turned around and saw that it was the county magistrate’s ger son again. He glanced around Lin Ning but only saw Zao Ge’er; the county magistrate’s younger brother wasn’t present. Smiling, he asked, “Why didn’t that ger come today?”

After all, he had said that as long as Lin Xiangcao came, the meal would be on the house.

Lin Ning: “…” Sure enough, he was interested in his little uncle. His feelings were complicated, but he managed a smile. “My little uncle hasn’t been in the mood to go out lately. He’s staying at home.”

Shen Qing nodded. “See if there’s anything he likes to eat, take some back for him. My treat.”

Lin Ning: “…Alright.” He hesitated for a moment before adding, “I’ll pick them out first and come back to get them later. I’m heading next door to buy a hairband.”

With the change of seasons, it was time for new clothes, and new clothes needed matching accessories. The Cuihua shop next to the fried sausage store was conveniently located, and since Lin Ning often came to eat here, he also browsed the shop frequently. Over time, he had found that it carried some decent items, and occasionally, he even discovered interesting little trinkets.

Speaking of the Cuihua shop, Shen Qing also wanted to take a look. When disguised as a man, it was sometimes inconvenient for him to enter such stores, so he usually just loitered outside. But if he went with Lin Ning, it would be much easier. He said, “I happen to need to buy a few things too. Let’s go together.”

Lin Ning was startled for a moment, recalling the two sedan chairs from before. Hesitating, he asked, “Are you buying for your family’s womenfolk?”

“Hmm? Oh, yes,” Shen Qing responded casually without much thought. “For my younger siblings at home.”

He was actually planning to buy some decorative knots or accessories with knots to take back for Ou Ge’er. Perhaps they would inspire him to create new designs.

Hearing this, Lin Ning was delighted. So, they really were his younger siblings? That meant even if Shen Qing didn’t like him, there was still a good chance he would end up with his little uncle, and they could be family!

Feeling cheerful, Lin Ning accompanied Shen Qing to the shop. The selection inside was indeed extensive. Wanting to prolong their conversation, Lin Ning deliberately introduced various styles and asked about Shen Qing’s younger siblings’ preferences. Shen Qing, who didn’t know much about these things, was happy to chat with Lin Ning, as it would help him learn more for his own future Cuihua shop.

Each of them picked out a few items they liked. Shen Qing bought several braided hairbands, a few sachets with decorative knotwork at both ends, as well as tasseled cords and fan cases woven with silk thread and adorned with beads.

Lin Ning selected a small wooden comb and a round brass mirror, while Zao Ge’er chose a headscarf.

Shen Qing paid for everything directly. For one, he wanted to build a good rapport with the county magistrate’s ger son—who knew when that connection might come in handy? Not everyone got the chance to save the magistrate’s ger son and establish such a link. He intended to maintain it. Secondly, it was a gesture of appreciation to Lin Ning for introducing him to this Cuihua shop.

Glancing at the brass mirror in Lin Ning’s hand, he casually pulled out a small mercury mirror and handed it over. “This is for you.”

This was something he had picked up from a wholesale market. These small round mirrors were typically given away as free gifts by jewelry or cosmetics shops. They had a thin layer of tin on the outside, printed with various cartoon images, making them look cheap and crude. Shen Qing had Tang Wenjie remove the tin casing, leaving only the mercury mirror itself. His plan was to have craftsmen make a batch of wooden vanity cases once Cuihua Shop was up and running, embedding these small mirrors into them.

At this moment, he casually pulled one out and handed it to Lin Ning. This was much clearer than the brass mirror Lin Ning had chosen.

Lin Ning: “!!!”

He widened his eyes at the mercury mirror, astonished. He had never seen such a mirror before! Though the exterior was a bit rough…

Shen Qing rubbed his nose. “You can find a craftsman later to see if they can fit it into this handle. I bought it like this and haven’t had time to process it yet.”

But Lin Ning was not only shocked by the mirror itself. “You—you—you… You’re giving this to me?”

This little mirror didn’t look cheap at all! Covering the bill was one thing—it just showed Shen Qing’s wealth and generosity—but giving such an expensive gift directly to him? What did that mean?!

Who exactly do you like?! Lin Ning’s inner self was furiously biting a handkerchief in frustration. He was so conflicted, debating whether he should just ask outright. Village gers were straightforward and bold, unlike the more reserved city gers—there was nothing wrong with just asking!

But before he could open his mouth, a group of seven or eight people suddenly rushed out from Cuihua Shop. Leading them was none other than Miao Qiuduo, who pointed at Shen Qing and shouted, “He’s not really Young Master Shen! He’s a fake—just a village ger! He’s my sister’s biological ger son!”

Lin Ning was highly sensitive to the phrase “village ger.” He couldn’t help it—ever since his father entered officialdom, he and his mother and little uncle had to socialize with other officials’ families, and sometimes people mocked them behind their backs. He might tolerate it when he thought it himself, but others had no right to call him that!

He glared furiously in their direction, only to realize they weren’t talking about him.

Then who else could they mean? Suspicion filled his heart as he stiffly turned his head to look at the young master standing beside him.

Half of Shen Qing’s face was cast in shadow, making his expression unreadable. Another person stepped forward from beside Miao Qiuduo—it was one of the shop assistants from Cuihua Shop. He had come along with the shopkeeper to deliver a congratulatory gift when Shen Qing’s sausage shop first opened, but at the time, Shen Qing had only let Shopkeeper Xiao Miao receive them and hadn’t interacted with them directly.

“I thought you looked familiar,” the assistant sneered. “I was wondering why that tall ger never showed up in the county again. Who would have thought he disguised himself as a man and was pretending to be some ‘Young Master Shen’… Shen Ge’er, you’ve got guts!”

And who was this person? He was none other than the pawnshop assistant from the very first time Shen Qing had come to the county, trying to pawn off some silver jewelry. Later, on orders from the shop’s master, he had even tailed Shen Qing for a while.

Previously, the broker had told Shen Qing that the owner behind Cuihua Shop had some background and thus didn’t take him seriously as a landlord. It turned out that this shop was part of the same business network as that pawnshop.

The silver jewelry Shen Qing had pawned had indeed been sold at a good price in the prefectural city, but the shop had always wanted to track down that mysterious ger and find out where he had gotten the goods. Yet, they had never seen him again. Over time, the matter faded from memory—even for Shen Qing. When the assistant had come bearing gifts for the shop’s opening, he hadn’t recognized him.

It was Miao Qiuduo’s outburst that finally linked “Young Master Shen” to that ragged little ger from back then.

Shen Qing coldly surveyed the group that had emerged. Miao Qiuduo and her husband, the pawnshop assistant, the pawnshop master who had intimidated him before, the Cuihua Shopkeeper, and two unfamiliar men. Among them, only the pawnshop assistant was around his age—the rest were all in their forties or fifties. In modern times, that wasn’t a big deal, but here, they were practically elders.

The commotion was drawing attention. Nearby shops had people peeking out to watch. Gold-Tooth, who had been enjoying his fried sausages, looked utterly stunned. Ruyi and Mudan were equally dumbfounded, while Shopkeeper Xiao Miao and Tieshan immediately stepped forward to stand behind Shen Qing.

But Shen Qing looked completely unfazed. He cast a sideways glance at Shopkeeper Xiao Miao. “If you’re all out here, who’s watching the shop? Go back.” His eyes swept over Xiao Miao’s scholarly, delicate frame—was this weak scholar planning to protect him?

Shopkeeper Xiao Miao: …Do you have a conscience?

Shen Qing then exchanged a look with Ruyi, who immediately sprinted back to their residence. Meanwhile, Shen Qing rubbed his fingertips together, releasing a faint trickle of spiritual spring water that no one else could see. Using it, he slowly wiped away the concealer on his forehead, revealing the bright-colored ger mark that had been hidden.

Lin Ning and Zao Ge’er were both completely stunned.

Shen Qing smiled slightly at the group before him. “That’s right, I’m a ger. So what? Is that illegal? What the hell does it have to do with you?”

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Lian Ou carefully presented the little butterflies, goldfish, rabbits, and other pieces he had woven over this time to Shen Qing, watching his expression nervously, afraid that his work might not be good enough and would disappoint him.

However, Shen Qing only flipped through them casually without much scrutiny. Instead, he pulled out a stack of paper, a large bundle of thread, and a small box of needles with colorful beads attached at the ends, handing them all to Lian Ou. “These are different knotting techniques. Take them home and study them yourself.”

He had painstakingly traced these from the book’s tutorials, but even after drawing just over twenty pages, all still covering basic knots, he was already exhausted. It felt like reading an indecipherable script—many of the characters in the book were unfamiliar to him, and the sequence of instructions was unclear. When he asked Song Kaiji for help, he ended up getting teased and taken advantage of instead.

This was the best he could do. If Lian Ou couldn’t understand it, Shen Qing had no way of teaching him either—he didn’t know how to do it himself! Whether Lian Ou could grasp it would depend entirely on his own talent. The book contained hundreds of designs, and if Lian Ou could master even twenty or thirty of the more intricate ones, he’d never have to worry about making a living for the rest of his life.

Lian Ou stood frozen, holding the pile of materials in his arms. Why wasn’t Qing Ge’er even looking at what he made before giving him so much?

Shen Qing felt puzzled under Lian Ou’s persistent gaze. Seeing him glance back and forth between him and the small woven ornaments on the table, he hesitated, suddenly realizing—was Lian Ou waiting for praise?

Shen Qing had little experience in giving compliments and even less in interacting with peers like him. He struggled to figure out what exactly Lian Ou wanted, so he picked up the pieces again, turning them over in his hands and forcing himself to come up with a few words of praise. Only then did Lian Ou’s expression relax into a look of relief.

Shen Qing: So he really was looking for compliments? Assigning tasks and providing emotional support—this was too hard.

But for Lian Ou, it was simply a matter of insecurity. He was terrified that his work wasn’t good enough and that he would let Shen Qing down. Now that he had received some encouraging words, he finally felt at ease. Clutching the stack of paper tightly, he said earnestly, “I will study hard and live up to Qing Ge’er’s trust!”

Miao Shi emerged from the kitchen, and the two little puppies immediately sprang up from their nest, running to her feet and jumping around excitedly. She tossed them two pieces of boiled chicken offal before smiling at Lian Ou and Lian Rong. “Ou Ge’er, Rong Jie’er, you two are here. Stay for lunch—we’re making chicken today.”

Shen Qing had just taught her a new way to cook chicken, something called “chicken pot stew.” Miao Shi was eager to try it, so she had slaughtered a young rooster. Since she often stayed in Shiqu Village for a while, their chickens were only sporadically fed, and it was usually Second Aunt Lian who helped take care of them. Inviting Lian Ou and Lian Rong for a meal was only fair.

Lian Rong was tempted, but Lian Ou declined. “Aunt, I should head back early. I’ve been out for a while, and I feel uneasy leaving home alone for too long.”

Miao Shi understood the situation at the Lian household well. Seeing him insist, she didn’t push further. Lian Rong hesitated for a moment before sighing, “Then… then I’ll go back too.”

Miao Shi chuckled at her obvious reluctance. “Don’t worry, I’ll have Qing Ge’er bring you a bowl later when it’s ready.”

Despite being cautious, Lian Ou had only been out for a short while before hurrying back. Yet as he neared the Lian family’s yard, he caught sight of a shadow slipping out of his room.

His heart clenched, and he quickened his pace. Upon entering his room, he immediately noticed signs of someone rummaging through his belongings. He had been extremely frugal with the thread Shen Qing gave him—using each piece repeatedly, weaving and unraveling over and over again before discarding even the smallest scrap. Because of this, he had barely used any of the thread, and most of it remained.

But now, there was only a little left.

Who else in this household would do such a thing? There was no need to guess—it had to be Wang Shi. This wasn’t the first time she had done something like this. Previously, Miao Shi had gifted Second Aunt Lian a fashionable headscarf to wrap her hair, and though it had been left safely in their room overnight, it had mysteriously disappeared by morning. They later found it trampled and filthy in the pigsty.

Even though the family hadn’t formally split, the two brothers had already divided their living spaces, and it was considered inappropriate to enter someone else’s room uninvited. Yet Wang Shi frequently ignored such boundaries. If it was stealing, she would argue that they were still one family, but if accused, she would throw a fit, crying and denying everything, making such a commotion that no one could get a word in. Since Lian Ershen had never caught her in the act, she could only let it slide and take greater precautions to secure her belongings.

But now, Wang Shi had started sneaking into even her nephew’s room?

Lian Ou carefully checked his things. Apart from the missing thread, one of his practice butterflies was also gone. He quickly pieced things together—Wang Shi had been restless lately, anxious over Shen Qing’s favoritism toward the second branch of the family but unable to figure out exactly what kind of help they were receiving. Now, she must have discovered it. She had likely stolen the thread and the butterfly to secretly learn the craft herself.

Lian Rong was both anxious and regretful. “How could she do this! Ge, let’s go tell Qing Ge’er, let him stand up for us! Qing Ge’er is amazing!”

But Lian Ou shook his head.

He knew Shen Qing was powerful, but if even the things Shen Qing gave him could be stolen so easily, then he himself was at fault too. He didn’t want Shen Qing to think he was a useless fool who couldn’t even guard his own belongings. And more importantly, he couldn’t rely on Shen Qing’s power for his entire life.

Lian Ou clenched his teeth, imitating Shen Qing’s manner, and tucked a pair of scissors into his waistband. “I’m going to find Grandma.”

Lately, Old Lady Lian had been troubled, unable to figure out what was happening. The household’s income was growing steadily, meat and eggs appeared more frequently on the dinner table, and the men of the house had all gotten new clothes made from proper fabric—things they never would have dared to dream of in past years. Yet, despite these improvements, the tension in the household only seemed to grow worse!

Originally, it had just been minor clashes between the two daughters-in-law, subtle and indirect. But now, things had escalated into full-blown conflict, especially with Wang Shi, who had been acting like a madwoman, picking fights over everything.

An unstable household was never a good thing! Many once-prosperous families had fallen apart because of internal strife—how could their small, common family be any different?

Just as she was fretting over this, Lian Ou led Lian Rong inside. “Grandma, Aunt Wang stole the things Qing Ge’er gave me.”

Old Lady Lian nearly dropped her bowl in shock.

However, after hearing Lian Ou’s account, her expression steadied. “Ou Ge’er, you say your Aunt Wang took them—but did you see her do it? Did you catch her in the act? That thread was given to you by Qing ge’er for practice, wasn’t it? He won’t be asking for it back, and he probably wouldn’t even notice whether you have more or less. Maybe you just used more than you thought and forgot?”

She had assumed Wang Shi had stolen something serious, something that would provoke that “Living King of Hell” Shen Qing—now that would be a real problem. But hearing it was just some thread, she felt relieved. How could thread be counted so precisely? It wasn’t even a big deal—when people went to the city for work, they’d always pocket a bit of material to take home. Everyone did it! It was just how things were.

All she needed to do was make sure Lian Ou didn’t stir up trouble over this. In her eyes, Lian Ou had always been an obedient and understanding child, the kind who knew his place. When conflicts arose, those in power often expected the more reasonable party to back down—it wasn’t about fairness, just about avoiding trouble.

Zhao Youdang was like this, and so was Old Lady Lian. But this was wrong. This kind of thinking only emboldened bullies and further oppressed those who suffered. That was why Wu Guixiang despised Zhao Youdang’s way of smoothing things over. And now, Lian Ou felt the same burning frustration boiling inside him.

Yet, Old Lady Lian remained oblivious to Lian Ou’s shifting demeanor. She knew Wang Shi’s personality well enough—she was obsessed with outshining the second branch of the family in everything. If Lian Ou could work in the workshop, then Wang Shi wanted her own ger to be there too. If Lian Ou had a skill, then Wang Shi wanted her ger to have one too. And if, in the future, Lian Ye ended up marrying worse than Lian Ou, Wang Shi would be seething!

Old Lady Lian was deeply frustrated with Wang Shi’s competitive and entitled nature—it had caused more household conflicts than she could count.

But this time, she had her own selfish reasons as well. Both branches of the family were her blood, but she had always favored the eldest son more. If both Lian Ou and Lian Ye could learn this skill, wouldn’t that be better? If both branches thrived together, wouldn’t that be preferable?

Many parents didn’t believe in fairness as simply splitting things evenly. Instead, they saw fairness as redistributing wealth—if one child earned a hundred taels, they should give fifty to the one who had none so that both had equal amounts. They never stopped to consider that one child had worked hard for their money, while the other had done nothing.

Old Lady Lian was this kind of person.

So rather than standing up for Lian Ou, she instead tried to persuade him, “You’ve learned a valuable skill from Qing Ge’er. You should take the time to teach Ye Ge’er as well. He’s just as much a part of our family as you are. You two grew up together, and he’s always been a good boy—there’s no real conflict between you. Why not mention him to Qing Ge’er? He’s your cousin, after all.”

Lian Ou pressed his lips together. “Grandma, are you really not going to do anything?”

Old Lady Lian’s expression hardened. She had always commanded great authority over the grandchildren. She had spoken to Lian Ou so gently for so long, yet he still wouldn’t listen? Was he really going to challenge her?

Lian Ou took a deep breath, then turned on his heel and stormed toward Wang Shi’s room.

Wang Shi had been studying the woven butterfly Lian Ou had made for practice. When Lian Ou burst in, she flinched in guilt, her first instinct being to shove the stolen items under her seat. Only after she had secured them did she snap, “Do you have no manners? Barging into your elders’ room without a word—is this what your mother taught you?”

“Then what did your mother teach you? That it’s fine to steal from your nephew?” Lian Ou glared at her.

Wang Shi instantly exploded, rushing forward to slap him. “You little bastard, what nonsense are you spewing?!”

But as soon as she stood up, the thread and butterfly she had hidden fell into view.

Old Lady Lian, who had hurried after Lian Ou, immediately caught sight of them and felt an intense wave of frustration—stealing was bad enough, but she couldn’t even hide it properly!

Meanwhile, Wang Shi and Lian Ou had already started grappling with each other. Lian Ou might have been a ger, but he was still physically strong from years of doing household chores. Compared to Wang Shi, he easily overpowered her, knocking her to the ground before snatching back the thread and butterfly. He held them up for Old Lady Lian to see. “Grandma, I didn’t make a mistake—it was Aunt Wang who stole them!”

Wang Shi sprawled on the ground, wailing, “I can’t live like this! Getting beaten by my own nephew—where is the justice?!”

Old Lady Lian’s forehead throbbed with veins of frustration. “Enough! Both of you, shut up!”

Lian Ou stared her down, unrelenting. Wang Shi’s sobbing faltered for a moment but then resumed even louder. Grandmother Lian, exasperated, kicked her. “Haven’t you embarrassed yourself enough?”

Then she turned to Lian Ou. “What stealing? We’re all family! Just take your things back and don’t make a fuss about it!”

Wang Shi wiped her eyes and, emboldened by Old Lady Lian’s words, sneered, “That’s right! I ran out of thread while sewing—so what if I took some from your room? It’s all part of the Lian family’s household, so why can’t I use it?”

Lian Ou’s chest heaved with anger. He wanted nothing more than to stab her with his scissors. But while he had brought them for courage, he wasn’t like Qing Ge’er—he couldn’t actually draw a blade on someone. Instead, he gritted his teeth and growled, “I’m going to tell Qing Ge’er! This thread isn’t mine, it’s his!”

A voice suddenly cut through the air. “Tell me what?”

Old Lady Lian flinched, and Wang Shi instantly went silent.

Shen Qing stood at the entrance, holding a steaming bowl of chicken stew, peering into the room with curiosity. Seeing him, Lian Ou suddenly felt he had found his backbone and immediately ran over, pressing tightly against him.

Old Lady Lian forced a stiff smile, trying to smooth things over. “It’s nothing, just a small matter in the family. Who doesn’t have a few disagreements? Lian Ou is still young, thin-skinned, and easily upset.”

She shot Lian Ou a warning look, signaling him not to speak. A family could have a thief, but they couldn’t let people know about it—otherwise, their reputation would be ruined. Lian Ou and Lian Ye were both at marriageable age, and if word got out, it would only harm Lian Ou. Outsiders wouldn’t care about the distinction between the first and second branch of the family—if the Lian family had a scandal, they would all be judged together.

Lian Ou clenched his teeth, then suddenly turned and ran back to his room. Moments later, he came back carrying everything Shen Qing had given him. “Qing Ge’er, thank you, but I don’t want to learn anymore.” He hesitated, reluctant to part with it, and added in a small voice, “Can I start learning again after I get married?”

“You—you’re really something, aren’t you?!” Old Lady Lian was dumbfounded. How could he be so stubborn? Giving up money that was practically in his hands just out of spite? “Don’t be foolish! Qing Ge’er, he’s just talking nonsense!”

Shen Qing glanced at the anxious Old Lady Lian, then at Wang Shi, who was still sprawled on the floor. He chuckled. Old Lady Lian claimed that Lian Ou and Lian Ye were both Lian family gers, that they were the same. But how could that be true?

Shen Qing had no real ties to the Lian family. Back when he was in the Shen family, Old Lady Lian had disliked them all equally and had even forbidden Second Aunt Lian and Miao Shi from associating with each other. It was only after Miao Shi divorced that her attitude softened somewhat.

“Silly child.” Shen Qing was only a few years older than Lian Ou, yet at this moment, he spoke like an elder. “Do you think marriage will make life easy for you? If the family you marry into has a sister-in-law like yours, would you still be able to learn from me properly?” He flicked a glance at Wang Shi, who was still sitting on the ground. “On the other hand, if you learn now, gain skills and self-worth, you can marry into a better family and have more choices.”

Lian Ou looked at him with a mix of understanding and confusion.

But Shen Qing still accepted the things Lian Ou tried to return to him. “Still, if you just practice alone at home every day, you won’t get far. You need me to guide you and correct your mistakes. So from now on, come to my house every day to learn.” He turned to Old Lady Lian with a smile. “Grandmother Lian, what do you think?”

Old Lady Lian’s face stiffened. But what could she say? Who in the village still dared to go against Shen Qing? Offending him meant losing all opportunities for benefits. So she could only force a smile and agree, “Of course! The child is clumsy—he might manage some rope work, but for fine craftsmanship, he’ll need your guidance. You’re so talented, after all!”

Shen Qing nodded in satisfaction. It was now that he truly understood what Chen Jiaxi had meant when she talked about power.

Power meant that even though Old Lady Lian knew he was talking nonsense—who in the village didn’t know that Shen Qing was no expert at needlework?—she still had to play along. Everyone could see he was openly favoring Lian Ou and slapping the Lian family’s dignity in the face. But what could she do? She could only smile and nod.

Power was truly intoxicating.

“Then come with me now,” Shen Qing said, still holding the large bowl of chicken stew. After taking a stroll around the Lian household, he brought the food right back home. Old Lady Lian and Wang Shi were left seething in frustration.

Once back at the small courtyard at the foot of the mountain, Lian Ou finally broke down in tears. First, because it was his first time standing up to Old Lady Lian and Wang Shi—he had been brave in the moment, but now, after the fact, fear still lingered. Second, because he felt utterly wronged. He had suffered countless grievances before, yet none had ever made him cry. But today, someone had stood before him, protecting him completely, and that absolute sense of security only made him want to cry even more.

Even his own mother had never protected him like this. His mother had her own struggles, things she couldn’t change. But Qing Ge’er… Qing Ge’er was truly wonderful.

“Stop crying.” Shen Qing handed him a handkerchief, then coldly reprimanded him. “You were at fault too.”

Lian Ou sniffled and nodded, thinking, Yes, I didn’t guard my things properly…

“That’s not the issue.” Shen Qing frowned. “Do you think this is about some thread? How much can it even be worth? I’m angry because, whether out of spite or simply to prevent your aunt from taking advantage, you actually said you’d quit learning over something like this. Who is Wang Shi to you? Is she worth throwing away your future over?”

Lian Ou cried even harder—not because of the scolding, but because he could hear the genuine care beneath Shen Qing’s sharp words.

“But honestly, I don’t actually have much to teach you,” Shen Qing admitted, rubbing his nose. Everyone had their weaknesses—even someone as competent as he was. Fine handiwork was not his strength. He could manage basic patchwork, but when it came to sewing clothes or shoes, he needed Miao Shi’s guidance, and even then, his skills were mediocre. “These designs aren’t mine either—I got them from elsewhere. You’ll have to figure them out on your own. From now on, when I’m not home, you can practice in my room. If I’m here, use the main hall. You can store your materials in my house.”

At this point, neither Shen Qing’s nor Miao Shi’s rooms contained anything that needed to be hidden. Having the spatial jade pendant was incredibly convenient. Shen Qing had even stored a good amount of spiritual spring water at home—Miao Shi and Old Lady Miao had been drinking it for a while, and their health had visibly improved.

Still, the house was too small. Back when he was heartbroken over Song Kaiji being unable to come to this world, Shen Qing had abandoned his plans to expand the house. The bricks and tiles he had bought were given to Miao Ren for his wedding house instead. Now, he regretted it a little—it would have been nice to at least build an extra storage room or two.

But fortunately, the estate on East Mountain was almost finished. Shen Qing had decided not to keep up the pretense—once the estate was done, he would move in with Miao Shi. It would also make traveling between worlds much easier. Once spring came and the frozen ground thawed, the roads would be completed quickly. By then, Miao Shi could easily take a mule cart to the county or the village, making everything much more convenient.

If anyone asked, he’d simply say that a benefactor had rewarded him with the estate for his hard work. But with his current status in the village, no one would dare question it anyway. Keeping people guessing only made them more afraid—just look at how Wang Shi had already lost her mind.

“For lunch and dinner, stay here and eat with my mother. If she’s away in Shiqu Village, you can cook for yourselves—anything in the house is free for you two to use,” Shen Qing said.

Hearing the word “you two,” Lian Rong blinked in surprise and pointed to herself. “Me too?”

“Of course.” Shen Qing hadn’t brought Lian Ou over just to teach him a skill—it was about protecting him. And if he was protecting Lian Ou, why not Lian Rong as well? “You can even bring Qiao Ge’er with you. Yu Ge’er is working at the workshop while looking after a child, and some people are already gossiping about him slacking off. If you bring Qiao Ge’er here, he can keep my mother company.”

Miao Shi loved children. Lian Qiao was just as adorable as Lian Rong, and he wasn’t a troublemaker—he was the perfect little companion.

“Every month, I’ll have my mother give Lian Ou a hundred wen. You can hand it to your grandmother—this way, you’ll have a legitimate reason for staying at my house.”

Lian Ou immediately shook his head. “How could I accept that? I haven’t even earned a single coin for you yet! You’ve already provided all my materials—how could I take money from you for nothing?”

“You don’t understand. This is called an investment.” Shen Qing smugly showed off the new concept he had learned. “I’ll invest in you for a few months. Once your skills are refined, you’ll work for me for at least three… no, five years. During those five years, I’ll pay you per piece. After that, we’ll split the profits—materials are mine, craftsmanship is yours, and we’ll share the earnings equally.”

This was Shen Qing taking care of Lian Ou. In the first five years, Lian Ou would still be a novice, and his work wouldn’t sell for much. Most of his early pieces would likely have to be paired with jade accessories to add value. But with five years of practice, and with Lian Ou’s talent, he could very well become a renowned artisan—or as they called it in the modern world, an artist!

That’s when his work would truly be valuable.

It seemed like Shen Qing was taking advantage of Lian Ou at first, but in reality, he was giving him an irreplaceable opportunity.

Lian Ou nodded without hesitation. “I’ll do whatever you say!” He wasn’t a fool—Qing Ge’er was so good to him, he’d never mistreat him.

Yet, Shen Qing had underestimated just how quickly things would escalate. He had assumed the Lian family wouldn’t be able to split up, but Second Aunt Lian… she had finally reached her breaking point.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Shen Qing had been staying in the apocalypse world for nearly a month. Estimating that the workshop in Shiqu Village was about to be completed and that his presence was needed to oversee things, he decided it was time to return.

Naturally, Song Kaiji was reluctant to see him go. However, just before his departure, something unexpected happened—they hadn’t gone looking for Chen Jiaxi, but she came to them instead.

“I’m not sure if you two are aware of this, but I need a favor from you.”

On a rainy night, Chen Jiaxi arrived at their doorstep wrapped in a long raincoat, looking like some kind of deranged serial killer.

She hadn’t contacted Shen Qing and Song Kaiji in a long time, as she was always extremely cautious. Clearly, this matter was important enough for her to take the risk of visiting them.

She had always kept her word and never pried into Shen Qing or his associates’ memories. The only information she had came from the memories of the director of the Third Farm. Because of this, she wasn’t certain if Shen Qing and Song Kaiji were already aware of the situation.

Shen Qing and Song Kaiji exchanged a glance. Shen Qing handed Chen Jiaxi a can of cola. “Tell us about it.”

They didn’t immediately agree, nor did they refuse—it all depended on the complexity of the task. As for potential rewards, Shen Qing wasn’t too concerned. After interacting with Chen Jiaxi several times, he had a decent grasp of her character. While their viewpoints often differed, she was someone who knew how to repay kindness and hated being indebted. Even if this particular favor wasn’t directly profitable, she would likely find a way to return the favor in the future.

Chen Jiaxi gently ran her fingers over the surface of the cola can. Only at Shen Qing’s place could such a rare luxury item be offered so casually. Even though she and her husband were doing quite well now, she wouldn’t dream of indulging in a cola just for herself.

But instead of saving the drink to bring home for her child, she popped it open and took a big gulp.

—If this deal went through, her child wouldn’t have to worry about cola in the future. A person needed to have the courage to spend as much as they earned!

“The military has now intervened in the research institute. They’ve recruited quite a few academics from the refugee camps, but the internal factions within the institute are deeply entrenched. Even though many people were demoted or removed, there are still old relationships tangled together, making it almost impossible for the newcomers to gain a foothold.”

She turned the can in her hands, choosing her words carefully. “I was thinking—if the military could obtain more leverage to completely uproot these people and expel them from the base, it would be much easier for them to take control of the research institute.”

Her intentions aligned perfectly with Shen Qing and Song Kaiji’s own interests. It seemed that intelligent people often thought along similar lines. However, Shen Qing still didn’t understand where they fit into all of this. He asked, “Are you hoping to use us to connect with Shao Nan?”

With her current status, it wouldn’t be difficult for her to proactively build ties with the military.

Chen Jiaxi shook her head. “Making connections isn’t the problem—the issue is obtaining the leverage needed to expose them.”

After laying the groundwork, she finally got to the point.

“Do you know that when the mutant willow tree incident happened—the one that caused Qu Weiwei to lose her hand—the Third Farm and the research institute covered it up? They never reported the accident. Because of that, the research institute’s funding wasn’t adjusted to cover the medical expenses, and they didn’t have the resources to regrow the limbs of all the injured wood-type ability users?”

Qu Weiwei, who had been absentmindedly nurturing a strawberry plant and popping berries into her mouth one by one, suddenly stood up.

Of course, they didn’t know!

At that time, whether it was Qu Weiwei, Song Kaiji, or even Shen Qing—who, despite his wealth, had no real connections in Red City Base—they had been at the very bottom of society. There was no way they could have known about the dealings of the upper echelons. Besides, given the nature of the apocalypse, even if the research institute had reported the incident, it wouldn’t have been surprising if they had still chosen to abandon some lower-level ability users.

And, as expected, reality wasn’t far off from that assumption.

An incident of that scale—there was no way the higher-ups didn’t know. But with limited funds and the high cost of treating the wounded, especially since healing-type ability users weren’t exactly cooperative—they wouldn’t work on credit, let alone for free—the institute had simply chosen to stay quiet. The officials had turned a blind eye, pretending they were unaware.

This issue could be swept under the rug if no one brought it up. But if the right people chose to make a fuss, it could turn into a major scandal.

Chen Jiaxi’s eyes gleamed. “The military only has two farms outside the base right now. But if we push this matter and manage to get the Third Farm under military control…”

This was a win-win situation!

Shen Qing and his group had already aligned themselves with the military and were eager to see them gain more power. At the same time, this would clear out the corruption within the research institute and give Qu Weiwei and the other injured wood-type ability users the justice they deserved.

And as for Chen Jiaxi…

“I want a portion of the management rights to the Third Farm. The military can appoint someone as the head of the farm, and my husband will take the deputy position.”

Her husband was currently a minor logistics leader in the city wall construction project. However, since that area was still under government control, the pay was inconsistent. When the wall was actively being built, there was plenty of profit to be made, but during slower periods, he only received a basic salary.

Chen Jiaxi wanted to bring her husband into her system so they could support each other more effectively. “But for this to work, we need Weiwei to step forward and formally report the incident to the military.”

Qu Weiwei: “I’ll do it! I’ll go, I’ll go, I’ll go!”

Qu Weiwei: “Screw the research institute! They didn’t even report it?! If it weren’t for Boss Shen, I’d be six feet under with weeds growing over my grave by now!”

She had never thought too deeply about the bureaucratic red tape before. But now that she was aware of it, recalling the helplessness and fear she had felt during the mutant willow attack, she was furious. “I’m reporting them!”

“Calm down. We need to plan this carefully.”

Shen Qing shot her a look, and Qu Weiwei immediately fell silent, sitting back down obediently, waiting for instructions.

“This is a great opportunity, but under normal circumstances, Weiwei wouldn’t have access to internal knowledge about the research institute’s cover-up. If she reports it, how do we explain where she got the information? Also, the research institute has been hunting for the so-called ‘mystery woman’—they’ve already been suspicious of Weiwei…”

“And what if they are?”

Chen Jiaxi chuckled.

These young ones, fresh out of school before the apocalypse, still didn’t understand the true nature of power.

Power meant that it didn’t matter what the truth was.

The most important thing was that whoever held power decided what was right. Whether the reasoning was solid or not didn’t matter—as long as the outcome served their interests, they could make anyone powerless to resist.

Shen Qing and his group had no reason to fear Qu Weiwei’s identity as the “mysterious woman” being exposed to the research institute at this point. So what if it was? The corrupt insiders at the research institute might be able to play petty tricks within their own circles, but if they dared to challenge actual power, they would be like eggs smashing against a rock.

In fact, Chen Jiaxi sneered maliciously, “Let them know full well that Weiwei is the mysterious woman. Let them realize the truth and yet be powerless, forced to watch as the very lower-class ability users they once treated like disposable trash rise up and personally drag them down into the depths of hell…”

Now that was satisfying, wasn’t it?

Qu Weiwei muttered under her breath, “…Who are you calling trash?”

“As long as you agree, you don’t need to worry about anything else. I’ll handle it. Weiwei just has to show up when the time comes to go through the motions.” These were professional matters—if an evolved brain wasn’t used at times like this, when would it be? “Of course, if Weiwei can find any of the other injured wood-type ability users from back then, that would be even better.”

But half a year had passed. Whether those injured wood-type ability users had even survived was uncertain. And even if they had, could disabled ability users with no means of labor afford to remain inside the base, paying rent? Or had they already been cast out into the refugee camps outside, lost among the countless desperate souls?

Qu Weiwei felt a pang of sadness. Meanwhile, Shen Qing was shaken by Chen Jiaxi’s understanding of power. He gave her a long, deep look and said, “Alright. We’ll work with you.”

---

Lantang Village, Lian Family.

Second Aunt Lian went straight to Old Lady Lian’s room upon returning home. No one knew what was said, but she stayed inside for a long time. When she finally emerged, there were tear stains on her cheeks, and Old Lady Lian remained unusually silent.

But after that day, Lian Ou no longer had to do household chores. Every day, he stayed in his room, soaking his hands morning and night, rubbing them, applying balm, and weaving butterflies. Other than meals, he barely left his room.

He was frugal. Shen Qing had said the jade threads were only a few cents per meter, but Lian Ou didn’t know that. To him, they were the most exquisite silk threads—he had never even seen real silkworm silk in his life.

So, he dismantled his woven butterflies, practicing over and over again. Only when he felt his technique had improved and the calluses on his hands had softened did he finally cut a fresh length of thread and start weaving a new butterfly.

This time, the threads frayed far less. The butterfly looked even and well-formed. Lian Ou felt an overwhelming sense of motivation—he realized the threads weren’t as delicate as he had feared. As long as his hands were free of rough patches and he was careful with his calluses, they wouldn’t damage the threads.

He felt he was close. Soon, he could start earning money for Shen Qing and repay him!

But while Lian Ou was thriving, Wang Shi from the Lian family’s main branch was on the verge of breaking down.

“Mother, why is it that only Second Brother’s family doesn’t have to do any chores? A day or two, fine, you took pity on the younger ones and let them celebrate, but why are we the only ones stuck with all the housework every single day? Mother, you can’t be this biased!”

She was panicking. It wasn’t just about the extra chores—it was the unknown that terrified her.

What had Miao Hexiang said to their mother-in-law to make her change her mind? If Miao Hexiang could pull this off once, could she keep doing it? Would she keep overshadowing Wang Shi?

And what was Ou Ge’er doing holed up in his room all day? He’d been like this ever since returning from Shen Qing’s house. That’s right—Shen Qing! It had to be his idea! He must be planning some benefit for Second Brother’s family!

How did Miao Hexiang always get so lucky?

She gave birth to a son earlier than Wang Shi, yet now, after years of suffering alongside their other married sisters, she had suddenly struck gold. And she was dragging Wang Shi along like deadweight, pulling ahead while leaving her in the dust.

Wang Shi had no capable sisters or promising nephews to rely on. She also knew that the long-standing tensions between her and Miao Shi weren’t something a few kind words could fix.

The only thing she could do was hold Miao Hexiang back. Hold her kids back. Everyone was a mud-legged farmer, scraping by in the dirt—so why should her family be the only ones who made it out?

If she couldn’t get ahead, she wouldn’t let anyone else pass her either!

Their mother-in-law, Old Lady Lian, had always leaned in her favor, forcing Second Brother’s family to contribute to the household funds. But now that Old Lady Lian had changed her stance, Wang Shi panicked.

“Mother, you can’t do this…”

She clutched Lian Bao and prepared to sit on the ground and wail, but Old Lady Lian’s next words shut her right up.

“When the workshop in Shiqu Village is finished, Qing Ge’er is going to build a school in the village. Is the child in your arms going or not?”

Wang Shi’s cries choked in her throat.

After a long silence, she muttered, “But isn’t the school being built for everyone? Just because of some household dispute, Qing Ge’er wouldn’t refuse to let my son study, would he? That would be too unfair…”

“So what if he is unfair? What are you going to do about it? Go argue fairness with the living King of Hell? It’s his school, his rules. He even beat up his own father—what are you to him?”

Wang Shi was left speechless by Old Lady Lian’s harsh words.

Frustrated and humiliated, she finally cried out, “But that doesn’t mean our branch of the family should be trampled on! Why do we have to do all the housework? This is bullying! How can I hold my head up in front of others?”

She covered her face and sobbed, repeating the same complaints over and over. But Old Lady Lian was already out of patience.

She had been reluctant to give in to Second Brother’s wife’s pleas earlier, but now that she had, she felt a slight sense of being controlled, which made her uncomfortable. So, she responded coldly:

“In a household, it’s either the east wind suppressing the west, or the west wind suppressing the east. Second son’s family, with Qing Ge’er backing them, is no longer something we can keep down.

Second son’s wife told me that if their family is forced to do chores, she and Yu Ge’er will quit working at the workshop. They’ll stay home and take over the housework, and we’ll all just sit and watch as other families thrive while we alone struggle in poverty.”

She didn’t explain what Lian Ou was up to—just gave Wang Shi a pitiful yet disappointed look.

“If you had any sense, you’d start sending Ye Ge’er to spend time with Ou Ge’er, ask him to teach your boy a thing or two. Adult conflicts shouldn’t involve the children.

“But if you insist on butting heads with Second son’s family, I can’t guarantee how things will turn out for you in the future.”

With that, she turned and left, leaving Wang Shi slumped on the ground, full of grievances but with no one to listen. No one cared about her complaints.

She could only sob, “There’s no justice anymore… How is this fair? What gives her the right…”

---

Lian Rong peeked out the window, watching for a while before running back, grinning as she whispered to Lian Ou, “Big Auntie is crying—crying her heart out! I’ve seen her fake-cry plenty of times, but never like this.”

She had finally broken down.

Lian Ou, still focused on his jade threads, merely hummed absentmindedly.

For some reason, now that he had meaningful work, the way Wang Shi used to make him anxious with a single glance or a single “tsk” suddenly didn’t matter anymore.

What did it matter what she was up to?

Lian Rong had been to the village’s starch sausage workshop and had seen the workers laboring there. It was tough work that required considerable strength, and even in the chilly early spring, they would be sweating by the end of the day. How could that compare to her second brother sitting inside and working without breaking a sweat?

Lian Ou hesitated for a moment. He wanted to say that not just anyone could do this kind of work—Lian Rong’s hands were as clumsy as chicken claws… But he didn’t want to discourage her enthusiasm, so he simply nodded. “Go ahead and take it. Just make sure to put it back where you found it when you’re done. Don’t mess up my things.”

Qing Ge’er was so capable. Even if she couldn’t weave threads properly after taking care of her hands, surely she could find something else to do?

At that moment, Lian Ou was no longer weaving butterflies. He was crafting a lifelike little goldfish, its large tail fanning out like a blooming lotus. He had been working on this piece for two days, putting more care and detail into it than ever before, hoping to show it to Qing Ge’er when he returned.

After finishing the goldfish, Lian Ou moved on to making a small rabbit and a tiny rat. He even attempted to weave the head of the big orange cat that Madam Guixiang kept, though the lack of the right colors made it look a bit strange.

Just as he was about to unravel it and try another design, he heard Lian Rong come fluttering back home like a little swallow, shouting excitedly, “Brother! Qing Ge’er is back! He’s calling for you!”

Hearing this, Lian Ou quickly wrapped his completed pieces in a handkerchief and tucked them into his chest. He rolled up the leftover materials and stuffed them under his mattress, pressing them down with the bedding before hurrying toward Shen Qing’s house.

Shen Qing was crouching in the yard, playing with the two puppies he had just adopted. Miao Yu stood beside him, chattering away with an envious look in his eyes. “These pups came from the best dog in my grandma’s village! That dog once scared off a wolf! When they grow up, they’ll definitely be just as fierce!”

He had always wanted to raise a dog. Like most boys his age, he admired anything related to strength and power. Unfortunately, his family had struggled in the past, barely affording enough food for themselves, let alone a dog. Now, seeing Shen Qing raising puppies, he couldn’t help but feel envious. “Ge, can I take them out on patrol sometimes?”

“No.” Shen Qing rejected him outright. These pups were still young, the perfect age to build bonds and recognize their owner. If he let Miao Yu take them out every day, wouldn’t they end up recognizing Miao Yu as their master instead? Then his family would be feeding them for nothing!

But when he saw Miao Yu’s crestfallen face, Shen Qing couldn’t help but chuckle. “Once they’re grown, if one of them is willing, you can take it out. But I need at least one to stay here and guard the house.” He had gotten these dogs precisely for that reason!

Miao Yu perked up immediately, excitedly watching the puppies and itching to play with them.

The two-month-old pups had been chosen because they were particularly attached to Miao Shi. Apparently, one of them had rushed toward her the moment it saw her, its tail wagging so fast it became a blur. The other one did the same—no matter who was standing next to Miao Shi, it only had eyes for her. Miao Shi couldn’t bear to part with either of them, so she simply brought both home.

Now, the two puppies curled up warily in their nest, eyeing Shen Qing with caution. He extended a finger for them to sniff. Perhaps detecting a scent similar to Miao Shi’s, one of them hesitated for a moment before cautiously licking his fingertip.

“What tiny little dogs!” Lian Rong exclaimed as she entered the yard, utterly captivated by them. She rushed over, full of admiration but lacking the words to describe them.

However, the puppies didn’t give her the same courtesy they had given Shen Qing. The moment she got close, they started barking fiercely.

Lian Rong looked heartbroken. “Wuu wuu wuu, they’re so mean!” They looked so cute but were so aggressive!

Shen Qing, on the other hand, laughed. “That’s exactly how a good guard dog should be! If they wagged their tails at everyone, what’s the point?”

He liked dogs that wagged their tails for him and him alone.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Lian Ou’s hands were indeed covered with calluses and rough patches. Although Second Aunt Lian was already one of the most loving and protective mothers in the village, a young ger in the countryside couldn’t avoid doing household chores like cooking, washing dishes, and feeding the chickens. Especially now that most of the second branch of the Lian family was working in the workshop, all the housework had fallen onto Lian Ou’s shoulders.

He carefully wove the thread, yet the smooth jade cord still ended up getting caught on his rough fingers, pulling out tiny strands of silk. Each time this happened, he would panic and glance at Shen Qing, only to find Shen Qing smiling at him encouragingly. With that reassurance, his nervous heart slowly settled.

Soon, he finished weaving a palm-sized butterfly. Aside from the frayed threads, the structure of the butterfly was tight and symmetrical. He didn’t even need anything to hold the threads in place—his ten fingers fluttered like orchids in midair, and a delicate butterfly with its wings outstretched, ready to take flight, was formed.

A butterfly woven from grass strands might look simple and rustic, carrying a sense of natural charm. But when woven with jade silk, it transformed into something exquisite. It wasn’t entirely lifelike, yet Lian Ou had an innate sense of design. Without anyone teaching him, he instinctively knew how to pair the two colored threads together. The four layers of butterfly wings alternated between pink and purple, and from a slight distance, if one overlooked the few frayed threads, it looked even more elegant than the decorative knots that wealthy families in the county paired with their jade pendants.

Shen Qing handed him two more pieces of string and had him thread the butterfly onto them, turning it into a hairband, which he then tied onto Lian Rong’s little bun. The peach blossom ronghua and the woven butterfly complemented each other perfectly. Lian Rong admired herself in the mirror from different angles, delighted beyond words, afraid to even move her head too much lest she ruin the look.

“I never expected my Ou Ge’er to have such a skill,” Second Aunt Lian exclaimed in astonishment. She held Lian Ou’s hands, turning them over to inspect them, before sighing with a pang of guilt. “If it weren’t for Qing Ge’er noticing from just a grass butterfly, my son’s talent would have been completely wasted! Such nimble hands, yet they’re covered in calluses!”

If their family had been wealthier, if they had been able to send Lian Ou to learn embroidery or sewing from a young age, he would have been remarkable by now.

Shen Qing believed that many people had unique talents and strengths, yet they remained undiscovered. Some people didn’t even realize their own potential, and for children from poor families, there were even fewer opportunities to explore, test, or develop their skills.

He handed Lian Ou the remaining two rolls of jade thread and went inside for a moment. When he returned, he carried a few more colors of thread, two small porcelain jars filled with hand cream, and a pumice stone. He handed everything to Lian Ou and instructed, “When you get home, soak your hands in warm water. Once the skin softens, use this stone to gently rub away the rough patches and calluses, then apply this balm. You can use more before bed. During the day, try to avoid doing tasks like washing dishes and clothes, but if you do, make sure to apply the balm afterward. Use these threads to practice and experiment with different patterns. When I return from my trade trip, I’ll bring back more designs for you to learn.”

Lian Ou carefully held the items, treasuring them as if they were the most precious things he had ever received. His heart swelled with emotion, and he didn’t know what to say. The cream in the porcelain jars was white and fragrant, even richer than what he used to moisturize his face. A whole large jar—it must be worth a lot!

He hadn’t even earned a single wen for Shen Qing yet, but Shen Qing was already willing to give him such valuable things. Clutching the silk thread and balm tightly, Lian Ou silently vowed to practice diligently and repay Shen Qing well in the future!

“I’ll have a good talk with my mother-in-law when I get back. Why is it that our second branch hands over all our earnings from working outside to the public fund, yet we still have to share the household chores? Doesn’t the first branch also spend that public money? They want to take advantage of everything!” Second Aunt Lian gritted her teeth, as if making up her mind. “If my mother-in-law doesn’t agree, then Yu and I will quit our jobs at the workshop and stay home to do the chores for Ou. Since we can’t keep any of the money anyway, we might as well all be poor together!”

The matter of Shen Zhiwei was like a stone thrown into a pond. On the surface, it didn’t cause much of a stir, but in reality, it sent ripples everywhere. Parents were now wary, fearing they might push their children into becoming another Shen Zhiwei. Meanwhile, those children who were less favored began to reflect, afraid of ending up in his position—having to sell off their daughters to support their more favored siblings. Testing boundaries, making concessions, and striving for change—across countless small households in the village, these quiet struggles unfolded.

---

After settling everything on his end, Shen Qing arranged for Miao Shi to stay in Shiqu Village for a while. Now that Miao Qiuduo had left, she could supervise the construction of the fried noodle workshop there and also pick out a puppy.

As for himself, he returned to the apocalypse. By his count, it had been five or six days since he’d stayed there overnight—he could only imagine how sulky Song Kaiji must be by now.

However, as he approached the base, he spotted a massive metal cage slowly moving near the entrance from a distance. His first instinct was that it must be Song Kaiji and his crew. He was slightly puzzled as to why they had taken out a cage right at the city gate, but he didn’t think too much about it.

Excitedly, he ran over, only to discover that the people there were complete strangers. The cage wasn’t being controlled by a metal-ability user but was a pre-built structure with a door. In the center of the cage, a horizontal bar allowed people inside to push it forward without worrying about zombies reaching them. The cage was also equipped with universal wheels.

The reason it was moving slowly was that a group had tied it to the back of a car, dragging it away at a steady pace.

Shen Qing: ?

As the vehicle drove off, he saw yet another cage with the same universal wheels being pushed out. In just ten minutes at the city gate, he spotted three or four of these. It seemed like this type of cage had become quite common.

He walked straight into the base. The shop the military had assigned him had already opened, though, since it was broad daylight, most ability users who could afford to shop were out hunting zombies. Only a few scattered customers browsed the store. Watching over the shop were Yu Le, Zhang Sujuan, and two unfamiliar young women—likely hired by Yu Le or relatives of external ability users.

Seeing Shen Qing return, they were all delighted. “Qingqing, you’re finally back! My son’s been sulking for days, frowning all the time,” Zhang Sujuan teased.

Feeling a little guilty, Shen Qing smiled at her. “I got caught up in some things. I’ll be staying longer this time to keep him company.”

Zhang Sujuan, who had been managing the store, looked noticeably more energetic. Ever since she lost her husband and injured her leg, she’d fallen into a slump, rarely stepping outside. But now, sitting in the shop and handling money all day, with crystal cores flowing through her hands, her bad mood had been largely swept away by the power of wealth. She chuckled and said, “Go on home, he’s lying there waiting for you.”

“Not on a mission today?” Shen Qing was curious. Previously, Song Kaiji always led his team out during the day. Just then, another team passed by, pushing a cage similar to the ones he had seen earlier. Shen Qing asked, “What’s with these things?”

“We haven’t gone on a mission for three days. Tang ge and Weiwei jie are both away,” Yu Le explained. “Only Bingbing jie occasionally takes some external teams out. That cage? The military invited Tang ge over to help design it.”

Because of the seeds provided by Shen Qing’s team, things on the surface of the base seemed calm, but in reality, power dynamics had shifted. The military, despite opposition, had started constructing two farms outside the base walls. These farms weren’t protected by the city’s defenses, making them vulnerable to zombie attacks.

However, the military had plenty of soldiers. During the day, off-duty personnel surrounded the farms, eliminating any wandering zombies. Inside the protective ring, wood-ability users accelerated crop growth, and once harvested, space-ability users immediately stored the produce. The farms’ proximity to the base meant few zombies strayed over, and the guards didn’t have much work to do. Of course, this was only a temporary solution.

“I heard the military is now recruiting those who can’t afford entry fees to build walls around the farms,” Yu Le whispered. “They have enough metal-ability users among them to make brick production easy. Once they secure the farms, it won’t take long before they outpace the base officials in food control. And with so many refugees stuck outside the base, do you really think they’ll stop after just building walls around the farms?”

Red City was on the verge of a major shift.

“They brought Tang ge in to teach their metal-ability users, and then they realized this method wasn’t just for metal users. So they started mass-producing these ready-made cages and renting them out to ability-user teams. As long as a team has at least one wood-ability user, they can use vines to hold off zombies long enough to extract crystal cores. That’s why Weiwei jie was called in too—to train wood-ability users. Since most of our team is busy, we haven’t gone on any missions ourselves.”

Some weaker teams came up with even safer strategies—renting larger cages, using vines to trap zombies momentarily, then dragging them into the cage to slowly extract crystal cores while safely inside. One way or another, people always found solutions. The security of the iron cage tactic significantly lowered casualty rates, even encouraging some of the base’s ordinary survivors to start hunting zombies.

“This method has been a game changer. The base’s death rate has dropped drastically. The leadership is even considering using it to trade with other bases for supplies. Human survival has just taken a huge leap forward,” Yu Le continued. “As compensation—well, and also as a patent fee—the military gave us another store. It’s right over there.” She pointed diagonally across the street. “They just handed it over yesterday. Uncle Ge has already started renovations, but we haven’t decided what to sell yet. Song ge said to wait for you to decide. Since not every team has a space-ability user, they can only push these cages manually or tie them to vehicles for towing. But I heard the military is now working with researchers to install batteries underneath, turning them into something like an automated tour bus for a zoo. That’ll make it even more convenient.”

Shen Qing only half-understood, but he still marveled at how many smart people existed in this world. Reading books really did pay off.

After chatting briefly with Yu Le and Zhang Sujuan, he went to check out the new shop. It was significantly larger than the first one the military had given them. Shen Qing silently noted that the ongoing power struggle between the military and the base officials must have cost the latter quite a bit.

Back at the villa, Song Kaiji was rolling around in bed in utter boredom. “Day six without Qingqing… day six of being abandoned… day six of guarding an empty house… wuwuwu.”

Standing outside the bedroom door, Shen Qing couldn’t help but chuckle. “Let me see—who’s the one that’s been abandoned?”

“Ahhhh, Qingqing!” Song Kaiji immediately lunged forward, hugging Shen Qing tightly. “You’re finally back! Why did you leave for so long this time?”

“There was some trouble at home.” Shen Qing recounted Shen Zhiwei’s situation in a neutral tone. “My mother is holding up well, but I know she’s struggling inside, so I stayed a few extra days to keep her company.”

That was also why he had thrown himself into helping Lian Ou so eagerly. Aside from the unspoken ger-helping-ger instinct, he wanted to distract Miao Shi and give her something else to focus on. No doubt in the coming days, she would be constantly checking on how Lian Ou’s hands were healing.

Listening to all this, Song Kaiji was wide-eyed. Sure, he had an uncle who coveted his family’s assets, but that was just empty talk and manipulation. Murdering kin? The feudal era was terrifying. Hugging Shen Qing tighter, he whispered, “And what about you?”

“Are you sad?”

Shen Qing fell silent.

Ever since the truth came to light, he had maintained his composure. In fact, he had felt more anger than sorrow. But deep inside, Shen Qing was conflicted.

Shen Zhang had been a wonderful younger brother. It wasn’t surprising that Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen had favored him far more than Shen Zhuang—Shen Zhang truly had the personality of an angel. He was sweet, considerate, but not in a cunning way. He would save treats given to him by Old Lady Shen and share them with Shen Qing and Miao Shi without taking a bite himself. He would feel sorry for Shen Zhigao, rushing over with Miao Shi’s handkerchief to wipe his father’s sweat after he returned from the fields. When Old Lady Shen scolded Shen Qing, he would softly coax her into laughter before secretly signaling for Shen Qing to run away.

For a child of only five or six, he had already been so clever, so thoughtful. But Shen Qing knew—if Shen Zhang had lived, he himself likely would not have turned out the way he was now.

He would have doted on Shen Zhang, that much he was sure of. Shen Zhang had treated him with nothing but kindness. He had no doubt that Shen Zhang would have grown into a reliable younger brother—after all, even as a child, he had protected Shen Qing in his own way.

If Shen Zhang had lived, perhaps Shen Qing would have grown up like the other typical ger in the village—relying on his younger brother for protection instead of carving out his own path with his fists. In fact, he hadn’t started fighting until after Shen Zhang died.

Most of his convictions were shaped by his struggles after Shen Zhang’s death. If his brother had survived, perhaps even Shen Zhigao wouldn’t have changed. Maybe they would have remained a typical, happy family in the village. Maybe he would have grown up to be like Lian Ou…

But if he had been like Lian Ou, who would have been there to pull him up? Would he have even realized he needed someone to?

Of course, Shen Qing didn’t wish for Shen Zhang’s death. But at the same time, he was grateful to have grown into the person he was today. Watching Miao Shi’s pain over the past few days, he couldn’t help but wonder—after all his efforts to provide his mother with a better life, would she prefer this version of him? Or would she rather have the past, where Shen Zhang was still alive?

That thought terrified him. He constantly wavered between guilt over Shen Zhang and firm belief in the choices he had made. There was no one in this world he could confide in about such thoughts. Even now, speaking to Song Kaiji, he was afraid. Afraid that Song Kaiji would see him as heartless, as selfish.

But Song Kaiji only held him tighter. “Don’t overthink it. Don’t let your thoughts spiral. Shen Zhang’s death wasn’t your fault—it was Shen Zhiwei’s. It was Old Man Shen and Old Lady Shen’s favoritism that caused it… If you have to blame something, then blame the generations of selfishness in that family, which finally brought retribution upon their grandson.”

Shen Qing was just another victim of that karma. He had suffered years of hardship in that household.

“It wasn’t your doing, so there’s no reason for you to feel guilty over choices you never had to make,” Song Kaiji continued. “On the contrary, you became who you are today. You earned power and influence in the village, which allowed you to avenge Shen Zhang. Otherwise, with your village chief being the way he is, wouldn’t he have just brushed everything under the rug again? If Shen Zhang’s spirit still lingers, he would be grateful to you. He would be proud of you.”

“Besides, Qingqing, you’re too smart. Even if your brother had survived, I don’t believe you would have grown up oblivious to everything. You would have realized sooner or later that a ger is no less than a man. Maybe your brother would have supported you—he loved you that much. He would have wanted you to be the best version of yourself.”

Song Kaiji gently ran his fingers through Shen Qing’s hair. “You’ve never been in the wrong. You’ve always done your best. The one who should feel guilty has never been you… You don’t need to blame yourself.”

Shen Qing buried himself in Song Kaiji’s embrace and finally let out a low, stifled sob. This was the first time he had cried since learning the truth about Shen Zhang’s death—both for Shen Zhang and for his own release.

Sunlight streamed through the window, casting warm light over the bed, dissolving the shadows that had lingered deep in Shen Qing’s heart.

This time, Shen Qing stayed in the apocalypse for a long while, only returning to the village once a week to check on the progress of the Shiqu Village workshop.

He needed to soak in more of modern civilization, to ease his mind.

As for the second shop, he hadn’t yet decided what to do with it, so he had two people run it as a general store for now. They displayed random scavenged goods and continued collecting valuables—gold, silver, antiques, jade, and books. However, business was much slower. With the government hoarding gold and prices rising, most people chose to trade with officials. There were even rumors of the government starting to collect silver, since it was needed for machine parts, meaning silver prices would soon increase as well.

“People are broke now. Nothing sells well except food,” Song Kaiji remarked. “But we already have a food shop, so we don’t need to open another. This place… well, maybe we’ll stumble upon something valuable.”

That reminded Shen Qing. “I remember we raided a bookstore before. There were some books on decorative knot tying—help me find them.”

“Knot tying? You mean… coding?” Song Kaiji looked utterly confused. Was Qingqing advancing so fast that he was learning programming now?

Shen Qing gestured dramatically before Song Kaiji finally understood. “Oh! You mean The Complete Guide to Chinese Knots?” He rummaged through his storage space. There were actually quite a few similar books, so he pulled them all out. In addition to the knot tying guide, there were books on crochet and knitting.

“That’s the one!” Shen Qing was thrilled. He could copy some of the patterns for Lian Ou to practice. He had so many jade pendants and trinkets, but they always felt a bit plain. Adding a decorative knot and a delicate box would instantly elevate their value.

Song Kaiji rested his chin on his hand, listening to Shen Qing talk about Lian Ou and the village’s latest happenings. He felt warm inside, yet also a little envious.

He wished he could fully integrate into Shen Qing’s life. The people, the stories—some endearing, some infuriating—were all things he only knew secondhand through Shen Qing’s words. He couldn’t experience them himself, couldn’t stand by Shen Qing’s side as they unfolded.

Suddenly, he leaned in and kissed Shen Qing on the cheek.

Shen Qing blushed, glancing around. “What are you doing? We’re outside.” He hesitated before adding, “If you want to… wait until we’re home.”

Song Kaiji laughed. He adored how Shen Qing could say such bold things with such an earnest expression. Hugging him tightly, he murmured, “No, I just want to hug and kiss you. Nothing else. I just want to be with you longer.”

As they were lost in their own world, a few people passing by scoffed in annoyance.

Shen Qing: ?

Wasn’t modern society supposed to be open-minded? People kissed openly on the streets all the time. They had only shared a quick kiss and a hug—why the judgmental stares?

“Ignore them,” Song Kaiji scoffed back at the retreating figures. They glared at him but didn’t say anything before walking off. “Those are some research institute guys who got demoted. They probably know the seed situation had something to do with us and are still bitter. I’ll remember their faces and let Chen Jiaxi know—she’ll make their lives miserable.”

“Don’t go looking for her too much. She’s careful about maintaining distance,” Shen Qing warned.

“Don’t worry, I just teleport into her bedroom.” Song Kaiji grinned proudly. “I’m super strong now—I can even teleport with people!” Though… so far, the only one he had managed to carry along was Ge Bingbing’s daughter, Nannan.

When Shen Qing wasn’t around, Song Kaiji had nothing better to do, so he spent his free time practicing his teleportation. Once he was able to teleport with a refrigerator, he decided to test it out with Nannan. He had to sweet-talk her a lot and bribe her with snacks before she finally agreed to be his test subject. Fortunately, his failed attempts only resulted in the child dropping to the ground without any serious harm, which was the only reason Ge Bingbing allowed him to continue.

However, teleporting an object and teleporting a living person were two completely different challenges. Nannan was smaller and much lighter than a refrigerator. After managing to teleport an entire fridge, Song Kaiji had assumed carrying Nannan would be no issue—but to his surprise, he failed. Through multiple attempts, he eventually realized that he needed to be able to teleport something at least three times the size and weight of a person before he could successfully transport a living being.

“Next time, I’ll try it with Yu Le,” he mused. Among their team members, Yu Le was the smallest girl.

Shen Qing: …

You’re casually teleporting into people’s bedrooms—aren’t you worried about interfering with their married life?

He wanted to say something but stopped himself.

“Let’s not cause trouble for Jiaxi. From now on, let’s just act like we don’t know her. Or better yet, wait for an opportunity for Shao Nan to formally introduce us—that way, we’ll have a legitimate reason to interact,” Shen Qing suggested.

Now that the military had intervened in the research institute, it was no longer entirely under the government’s control. Shen Qing thought of how Gold-Tooth had facilitated connections between him, Clerk Yang, and the Chief Registrar to form a mutually beneficial alliance in the other world. Perhaps they could create something similar here in the apocalypse.

They could act as intermediaries—Shao Nan could help Chen Jiaxi rise in power within the research institute, Jiaxi could provide the military with advantages that aligned the institute with them, and Shen Qing could source rare supplies from the other world whenever needed. It was a mutually beneficial arrangement, one worth pursuing.

When that happened, what would those people who scoffed and rolled their eyes at them amount to? Getting demoted was hardly a punishment. Who knew how many awful things they had done? Eventually, they would be driven out of the research institute entirely. Only when they were forced to struggle for survival like ordinary people in the apocalypse would they finally realize just how outrageous their past actions had been.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Thandar: I feel like ML’s teleportation ability would somehow play into him being able to enter the cave 🤔

People who don’t know you will fear you, but those who do just want to make wishes to the King of Hell.

Ever since Shen Qing had beaten Shen Zhigao, he’d felt an inexplicable sense of liberation, as if some heavy chains had been removed from him, making him feel lighter and more at ease. But after all, he wasn’t really the King of Hell, so he quickly waved his hands at Lian Rong’s wish. “Even though your aunt is indeed not a good person, she doesn’t deserve death, does she? Punishment should match the severity of the crime—otherwise, what would that make me?”

Shen Qing even started to wonder if he had somehow become a strange role model for the village’s gers and girls, seeing how Lian Rong was casually talking about life-and-death matters.

“That’s true,” Lian Rong sighed deeply, then glanced at Shen Qing again. “Then what are you? You’re the Living King of Hell.”

Shen Qing: “…I’m not. Stop saying that.”

He examined the grass-woven butterfly in his hand, despite it being flattened underfoot, and after a moment of thought, a mischievous smile appeared on his face. “But I can help you get a little revenge, consider it fulfilling your birthday wish.”

Though Lian Rong’s actual wish was to have Wang Shi “taken away,” Shen Qing’s plan had nothing to do with that.

Wang Shi always targeted Second Aunt Lian out of jealousy. Since she was someone so easily provoked by envy, why not let her stew in it even more?

Lian Rong looked at him, half-understanding, as Shen Qing took her small hand and led her into Miao Shi’s room.

Nowadays, Miao Shi’s room already had the feel of a wealthy wife’s quarters, yet it still retained a rustic countryside charm. A newly crafted wooden cabinet stood by the heated brick bed, filled with fresh bedding and an abundance of new clothes.

The windows were covered with thick, snow-white paper, allowing light to filter in, making the room bright and clean.

Against the wall stood a large wooden dressing table, with a copper mirror the size of a washbasin at the center, adorned with delicate engravings. To the left of the mirror was a stack of jewelry boxes, and inside the first box was a small, round silver-backed mirror. To the right, there were an array of small bottles and jars—some for face cream, some for hair oil. Nearby were two combs with different tooth gaps.

Lian Rong curiously took in everything on the table. Her home didn’t even have a simple brass mirror; if she wanted to see her reflection, she could only look into the water.

Shen Qing pressed her down onto the stool in front of the vanity, looked at her two tightly bound bun-shaped pigtails, and, after considering his own lack of hairstyling skills, decided not to undo them. Instead, he rummaged through the jewelry box and pulled out two hair ribbons, holding them up on either side of her head to measure.

Miao Shi and Second Aunt Lian were sitting on the heated bed, chatting. Seeing Shen Qing’s actions, they found it amusing. “What are you doing?”

“Today is Rong Jie’er’s birthday. These two hair ribbons—when I bought them, didn’t you say the colors were too bright and you didn’t like them? Might as well give them to Rong Jie’er as a birthday present.” The two ribbons in Shen Qing’s hands were ones he had casually picked up at the neighboring shop. They were made of finely woven silk in three colors—peach pink, soft blush, and pale yellow—with small dangling beads of unknown material, also in delicate pink hues.

Miao Shi had found them too flashy and youthful at the time, feeling they were more suited for little girls rather than herself. No matter how much Shen Qing insisted she was still young, she had never worn them.

Now that he was giving them to Lian Rong, Miao Shi naturally agreed, even scolding Second Aunt Lian lightly, “Rong Jie’er’s birthday? Why didn’t you say something?”

“She’s just a little kid. What’s the fuss about birthdays?” Second Aunt Lian waved it off. “And sending her a birthday gift? We already come to your house all the time, eating and taking things—I’m embarrassed as it is!”

“You helped me out when I was struggling before. Now that I’m doing better, what’s a little gift for the child?” Miao Shi said while taking over from Shen Qing, loosening Lian Rong’s hair and smoothing it down with some scented oil, making it shine. All the stray hairs were neatly tucked away, leaving her looking polished and tidy.

“For a little girl, you sure have nimble fingers!” Second Aunt Lian remarked.

“I never had the chance to doll up Qing Ge’er when he was little—he never liked dressing up or wearing anything decorative. Now, I finally get to put my skills to use!” Miao Shi laughed, feeling immensely satisfied as she arranged Lian Rong’s hair into two symmetrical four-petal flower buns, tying the hair ribbons in the center into butterfly knots. The effect was stunning—like two delicate flower buds resting atop her head.

Seeing how adorable Lian Rong looked after the makeover, Miao Shi felt an overwhelming sense of fulfillment. “Qing Ge’er never let me dress him up like this—he always wanted to look like a little adult. Finally, I get to practice!”

Since uncovering the truth about Shen Zhang’s death, Miao Shi had been visibly downcast for days. Now, with something to focus on, she seemed to have a bit more energy, which made Shen Qing happy. He excused himself to his room but actually retrieved a box of velvet flower hairpins from his storage space.

These were custom-made by artisans he had hired in the post-apocalyptic world—delicately crafted, with a variety of designs. Miao Shi picked a peach blossom and a tiny velvet peach, which perfectly matched the ribbons. She placed them symmetrically on Lian Rong’s two flower buns, making the already cute little girl look even more like a porcelain doll.

“Oh my heavens, this must be expensive! She can’t possibly wear something so valuable!” Second Aunt Lian waved her hands frantically. The ribbons were one thing, but these hairpins were obviously exquisite. Back when she was a young maiden, she had bought some cheap decorative hairpieces at the market, but none compared to what Shen Qing had just taken out. She immediately reached out to remove them. “She’s just a child—how could she wear something this fancy?”

But Lian Rong quickly ducked behind Miao Shi, clutching her new hair accessories. “I like them! I’ll only wear them for two days, I swear! I’ll even work for Qing Ge’er to pay for them!”

Shen Qing laughed. “What kind of work could you do for me?” He then glanced at the trampled grass butterfly. “But, go call Ou Ge’er over. Have lunch at my place today—I’ll make you that full egg feast.”

Lian Rong, however, grimaced at the mention of eggs. “I don’t want to eat eggs anymore—I want meat! I want the sausages from our workshop!”

“What’s this ‘full egg feast’ about?” Miao Shi and Second Aunt Lian still weren’t sure what the two were scheming. But seeing Lian Rong, now dressed up and no longer upset, Second Aunt Lian let go of her frustration over what had happened.

Then Lian Rong finally explained how her birthday eggs had been taken by Wang Shi and given to Lian Bao, and how her grass butterfly had been stomped.

Miao Shi and Second Aunt Lian finally understood why Shen Qing had suddenly taken it upon himself to dress up Lian Rong—it was to cheer her up.

Now that Lian Rong had stopped crying and seemed happy again, Second Aunt Lian sighed. “Forget it, let’s not bother with that foolish woman anymore.”

After all, their second branch of the family was doing better and better with Shen Qing’s support. Even though their earnings had to be handed over to the shared family fund, Miao Shi still found ways to give little gifts—whether it was fabric, shoes, or a good meal for the kids. In both appearance and lifestyle, their household was already pulling ahead of the eldest branch. No wonder Wang Shi was jealous.

But Second Aunt Lian had made peace with it. “She can be envious all she wants. We’re doing well, and that’s enough.”

Even if they had to pool their earnings now, the bond with Miao Shi and Shen Qing was something Wang Shi could never take away. When the time came for the family to split, they would still have each other’s backs, and Shen Qing would always be there to support their children.

And over on Wang Shi’s side—who would keep sending them money after the family split? So what if she had another son to dote on like a treasure? In the end, their household would never catch up to Second Aunt Lian’s.

The only question was when the family would finally divide. Second Aunt Lian sighed and whispered with Miao Shi again. The village custom was that families could only split after the elders passed away. She wasn’t heartless enough to wish for her in-laws’ early demise, but she truly wanted to separate as soon as possible. “If only we could split the family now. We’re even willing to take care of the in-laws. Even if the eldest branch gets nothing, it’s fine with us.”

She had lost count of how many times she’d sighed over this.

Meanwhile, Lian Rong, with the silk ribbons and velvet peach blossoms gifted by Shen Qing, flaunted her new look all around the village. She basked in the envy of all the young girls and gers before leisurely making her way back home. When she left, she was just an ordinary country girl; when she returned, she looked as bright and fresh as a noble lady. It was impossible not to attract attention—everyone in the house stared at her adorned head.

Just as Shen Qing had predicted, Wang Shi was inwardly burning with jealousy. Lian Rong was already adorable, but now, dressed up like a young lady from a rich family, she was even harder for Wang Shi to tolerate. She instinctively wanted to drag Lian Rong back down to earth. With a twisted smile, she reached out to touch Lian Rong’s head. “Oh my, what’s this on your head, Rong Jie’er? Looks so fancy. You must be doing well, huh? Your mother must be rolling in money from the workshop to afford such expensive hair accessories for you.”

The implication was clear—she was accusing Second Aunt Lian of hiding private savings.

Lian Rong, having just experienced the grass butterfly incident, was already on guard against Wang Shi. She quickly ducked away, covered her head, and ran behind Old Lady Lian. “This wasn’t bought by my mother. Qing Ge’er saw my woven butterfly got ruined and pitied me for not even getting a bowl of birthday eggs, so he lent me these to wear. My own things are one thing, but if Big Aunt accidentally breaks these too, she won’t be able to afford to compensate Qing Ge’er!”

Lian Rong took the opportunity to tattle on Wang Shi to Old Lady Lian, then poked her head out to add, “Grandma, Qing Ge’er said he’s making me a full egg feast and told me to bring my second brother along to eat. When I come back, I’ll bring you some delicious pastries!”

Old Lady Lian glanced at Wang Shi’s darkened face with displeasure. How could anything in this house escape her notice? As the Second Branch thrived, the conflicts with the First Branch only intensified, giving her constant headaches. She knew Wang Shi had taken out her frustrations on Lian Rong today but couldn’t be bothered to reprimand her. If she scolded Wang Shi, it would only stir up more trouble. She was simply exhausted from it all.

After all, it was just a child. How big a deal could a little grievance be?

But she hadn’t expected Qing Ge’er to stand up for Lian Rong. Knowing that today was Lian Rong’s birthday and that she had been wronged, Old Lady Lian simply said, “Go on then, no need to bring anything back for me. You’re lucky to have Qing Ge’er looking out for you, but don’t overdo it. If you keep eating and taking from them all the time, people will get annoyed.” She then turned to Lian Ou. “Ou Ge’er, you go too.”

Wang Shi bit her lip. “Mother, it’s almost noon. If Ou Ge’er leaves, who’s going to do the chores for the Second Branch? We can’t be expected to do everything for the whole family. That’s just too unfair—”

Old Lady Lian couldn’t take it anymore. Her expression darkened as she snapped, “I’ll do it. I’ll do it for him, is that good enough for you? You just can’t stop stirring up trouble! Your Second Brother and Lian Shi both eat at the workshop, your Second Sister-in-law took the children to Qing Ge’er’s house, and none of them are even eating at home today. Do you still need to cook? Are you working for the Second Branch, or are you expecting them to serve you? On any other day, I wouldn’t say anything, but today is Rong Jie’er’s birthday, and Qing Ge’er invited them over. You can’t even let this one day go? Do you actually care about the chores, or do you just hate seeing others comfortable?!”

Wang Shi hadn’t expected Old Lady Lian to lash out at her so openly. She was caught off guard, her face turning purple with humiliation. She gritted her teeth and muttered under her breath, “So that’s how it is. Mother just favors the Second Branch now that they’ve climbed up in the world. I see it clearly now—you’ve abandoned the Eldest Branch.” Then, clutching Lian Bao in her arms, she stormed off into her room.

Old Lady Lian actually found it laughable. Favoring the Second Branch? If she were truly favoring them, would their earnings still be going into the family pot? If anything, she had been favoring the Eldest Branch so much that she had lost face.

But one thing Wang Shi said wasn’t wrong—the Second Branch had risen. The future of the Lian family rested on Miao Chunlei, Second Aunt Lian, and Qing Ge’er’s connections.

Since the incident with Shen Zhiwei, many village elders had started re-evaluating their treatment of their children. It was customary to favor the eldest son, but there had to be limits. If parents were too biased, they might end up raising another Shen Zhiwei—and that was a terrifying thought.

Although they didn’t believe the unfilial Shen Zhiwei was right, who wouldn’t fear raising a child like him?

So Old Lady Lian and her husband had done some reflecting. Now that she saw how much importance Qing Ge’er placed on Lian Rong and Lian Ou, she decided to soften her attitude toward the girls and gers in the family. “Be polite when you’re with Qing Ge’er. Learn from him. Don’t worry about the chores—Grandma will take care of them.”

Inside the house, Wang Shi watched in secret as Lian Rong and Lian Ou left hand-in-hand. Her usual tricks were useless now, and her frustration nearly made her tear the cloth in her hands.

She was furious and jealous but had no outlet for it. When she turned and saw her youngest ger, Lian Ye, she lashed out at him instead. “You useless thing! Look at Lian Rong—so clever, always thinking ahead, sticking to Shen Qing like a lapdog, already planning her future. And you? You can’t even string a proper sentence together! No wonder Wu Guixiang won’t let you work at the workshop. Why did I have to give birth to such a useless ger?!”

Lian Ye had been quietly changing Lian Bao’s drool cloth. The child was already older but was coddled by Wang Shi to the point of being slow in both speech and walking. He still drooled frequently. Suddenly being scolded, Lian Ye just lowered his head and silently wept.

Why would Qing Ge’er or Madam Guixiang choose him? He wasn’t Qing Ge’er’s cousin. His mother wasn’t related to Miao Shi or on good terms with her. Why should they offer him a job?

It wasn’t his fault he wasn’t born into a good family like Lian Rong and Lian Ou. But now his parents were blaming him for it? What kind of twisted logic was that?

He cried quietly, not even daring to sniffle. Unlike Second Aunt Lian, Wang Shi had always been harsh on her ger, only doting on her son, who made her look good. If she saw him cry, she’d only scold him harder.

Meanwhile, Lian Ou hesitated as he walked with Lian Rong toward Shen Qing’s house. He kept looking back. “Why is Qing Ge’er calling me? Maybe I should go back. If I leave, Big Aunt will just cause trouble again.”

“Are you scared of her?” Lian Rong smirked. “I think Grandma’s different now. Maybe she realizes Qing Ge’er’s opinion matters more than Big Aunt’s.” She was quick to pick up on the shift in family dynamics. If this change continued, it could reshape their family structure entirely.

Lian Rong thought, Wow, Qing Ge’er really is like the Living King of Hell—even Grandma listens to him!

Lian Ou thought about it. “Maybe you’re right.” His gaze fell on the velvet peach blossoms in Lian Rong’s hair. “They look so pretty. Qing Ge’er is really generous, giving you such an expensive gift.”

Lian Rong touched her hair happily and grinned. “It’s my birthday gift from Qing Ge’er! I just scared Big Aunt with it.”

Lian Ou was surprised. “Qing Ge’er really is kind.”

Excitedly, the siblings continued toward the small house at the foot of the mountain.

Shen Qing’s household had long planned to raise dogs—not just for guarding the house but also for protecting the workshop. He had previously asked Liu Yue’e and Li Yanzi to keep an eye out, but puppies weren’t always available on demand. Now, they had finally secured one.

Upon hearing this, Miao Shi said, “Qing Ge’er should go pick one when he has time.”

But Shen Qing shook his head. “I’m not home often, and in a few days, I’ll have to leave for business again. It’s better if you go, Mother. Pick one that will be most protective of you.” He had been caught up in a string of events lately and hadn’t returned to the apocalypse world for several days—he could already imagine Song Kaiji sulking in resentment.

“Qing Ge’er is going on a business trip again?” Second Aunt Lian had heard about these trips before and had seen all the fascinating goods Shen Qing brought back. She couldn’t help but be curious. “What’s the world out there really like? It must be even bigger than the county town, right? How come there’s everything you could imagine?”

The farthest she had ever been was Anping County, and even then, she might not visit more than once or twice a year. Many villagers had never even dared to step foot in a county town. To her, the concept of traveling for business was mysterious and distant.

“When my business grows bigger, I’ll take everyone on a trip outside so you can see for yourselves,” Shen Qing said with a smile. Of course, he couldn’t take them to the apocalypse, but a trip to a nearby county or prefecture would do just fine as a casual excursion.

Second Aunt Lian immediately recoiled, shaking her hands. “No, no, no. I’d be scared to death before even reaching the prefectural city.”

Meanwhile, Lian Rong and Lian Ou’s faces showed a bit of longing.

Shen Qing didn’t dwell on the topic of his travels and instead shifted the conversation. He took out the trampled grass-woven butterfly and asked Lian Ou, “Did you make this, Ou Ge’er?”

Lian Ou nodded.

“Can you weave it with a different material?”

“Uh… I think so?” Lian Ou wasn’t sure why Qing Ge’er was asking this but still answered truthfully. “This one was made with the stalks of foxtail grass. It’s thin but strong—really useful. I’ve also used fine willow branches and purple-leaf locust strips before. Those work too, but they don’t look as nice.”

He had put a lot of effort into making his little sister’s birthday gift.

Shen Qing took out two spools of silk cord, one pink and one purple, and handed them to him. “Try weaving with these.”

Lian Ou: !!!

Even though he wasn’t the sharpest, he immediately understood—Qing Ge’er was looking after his family again, this time pulling him in! But when he saw the smooth, glossy silk threads, he hesitated, curling his fingers inward, not daring to take them. “Can I really? My hands are rough, and I have calluses… I might ruin the silk threads.”

“It’s fine. Just try it out first—these threads aren’t worth much. If it turns out well, I’ll help you take care of your hands and teach you new patterns. From then on, you’ll just focus on weaving. I plan to open a ‘Cuihua Shop’ in the county, and you’ll supply goods for me,” Shen Qing explained. This time, he didn’t say that a benefactor was opening the shop—he simply claimed it was his own venture. But none of the Lian family members questioned him. Either they didn’t notice or they had already grown accustomed to the idea that Qing Ge’er having his own shop wasn’t surprising at all.

Gradually and subtly, he was letting the villagers accept the fact that he had wealth and numerous businesses. This was a good approach.

Lian Ou stared blankly at Shen Qing, while Second Aunt Lian’s gaze flickered with uncertainty.

It was Lian Rong who first stood up to encourage her brother. “Ge, just give it a try! You’re so skilled—you can weave butterflies, swallows, and even goldfish beautifully. You’ll definitely do great! Big Aunt didn’t let you work at the workshop, stopping you from earning money. But if you weave for Qing Ge’er, you can make money at home! Let her stew in jealousy!”

Second Aunt Lian gave her a light smack. “Watch what you’re saying.” But her gaze toward Lian Ou was complicated.

Lian Ou was nearly at marriageable age. If not for Qing Ge’er suggesting they wait a year or two for a better match, Second Aunt Lian might have already agreed to marry him off to the Xiahe village chief’s youngest son as a husband.

Qing Ge’er was wonderful—capable, intelligent, and business-savvy, seemingly perfect in every way. But… he was also too opinionated. A ger like that—Second Aunt Lian didn’t even know how to describe it.

It just wasn’t in line with the traditional values of their time.

It was one thing to work at the workshop, but if Lian Ou followed Qing Ge’er’s lead, would he also become independent-minded and less obedient? Second Aunt Lian loved her children no matter what, but she feared that this personality shift could affect Lian Ou’s marriage prospects.

Look at Qing Ge’er—he didn’t even plan on marrying. When he first left the Shen family, he had mentioned it once or twice, but now he didn’t even bring it up anymore. Even Chunlei didn’t seem to be in any hurry, acting like she had no say in the matter.

To Second Aunt Lian, the idea of not marrying was unthinkable. When the time came, you got married—it was just the way things were. If Lian Ou followed Qing Ge’er into business, would he turn out the same way?

But she hesitated for a long time, torn between her concerns and her love for her child. In the end, a mother’s heart always leaned toward her child’s future. Taking a deep breath, she made up her mind and smiled, encouragingly. “Qing Ge’er thinks highly of you and is giving you a chance—just try it out.”

Whatever happens in the future, they could deal with it then. Maybe she was just overthinking things.

Now that even his mother had spoken, Lian Ou finally gathered his courage. Under everyone’s expectant smiles, he nodded and reached out to take the two spools of silk cord from Shen Qing’s hands.

Later in life, Lian Ou would look back on this moment with endless gratitude. He would thank Shen Qing, thank fate, and most of all, thank himself for not backing down—because this was the turning point that changed the life of an uncertain, directionless ger forever.

◦°˚(*❛‿❛)/˚°◦

Ever since the day she flew into a rage, the Empress had been plagued by unrelenting abdominal pain.
The imperial physicians at Hua Feng Palace had been coming in nonstop.
Emperor Wen He, more concerned than anyone, dropped everything—after morning court, he would hurry straight to her palace and stay by her side day and night.

He had made Su Miao the Empress partly because she was the “daughter” of Prince Xingyuan, but more truthfully, because he genuinely liked her.
Even knowing she was spoiled and headstrong, Emperor Wen He often turned a blind eye.
He liked her because she was willful.

Now, seeing the Empress suffering daily, her complexion haggard and unable to eat,
the emperor hovered around her calling her “my precious” with every breath, wishing he could bear the pain in her place.

At last, the Empress fell asleep. Emperor Wen He quietly stepped outside and asked,
“What is it?”

Liu Zhengping replied in a low voice,
“Your Majesty, Princess Huachao has been in the capital for quite some time now.
This marriage remains unsettled—if word gets back to the Tao Kingdom that she’s been left in limbo, it might reflect poorly…”

Emperor Wen He, consumed with worry for his Empress and the little prince she carried, responded impatiently,
“Let Consort Shu find a few noble ladies to keep her company.
They can go to Chunmei Palace or Liu Garden Hill.”

After a pause, he added,
“Prince Kang’s residence is close to Chunmei Palace. Have Princess Consort Kang accompany them as well.”

“Your servant understands.”

Without another word, the emperor turned and hurried back inside to tuck in his Empress and their future son.

Liu Zhengping bowed until the emperor disappeared, then turned and exited. Eunuchs and palace maids along the path bowed low and greeted him respectfully:
“Eunuch Liu.”

Just as Liu Zhengping stepped out of the courtyard, Chang Bai rushed forward to hand him a handwarmer.
“It’s cold, Father. Keep your hands warm.”

Chang Bai was fifteen or sixteen, fair-skinned and delicate in appearance.
His especially bright, clear eyes were like still water—pure and untainted, a rare sight in the palace.

He didn’t resemble a lowly palace servant at all.

Chang Bai was Liu Zhengping’s adopted son.
Eunuchs were supposed to be childless. Those with higher status often selected promising young eunuchs to adopt, compensating for their inability to have children of their own.

“Good boy.”

Liu Zhengping patted his shoulder and continued on his way to carry out the emperor’s orders.

Chang Bai watched his foster father leave, then turned to go.
Just then, he heard someone call, “Qing’er!”

He paused and turned around.

Two palace maids rushed by with arms full of clean laundry from the washing house.

“Qing’er, hurry up or the mistress will be furious!”

“I know, I’m coming…” The one called Qing’er was small and thin, struggling to hold up the heavy pile in her arms.

In a flash, the two maids were gone from view.

Chang Bai stood under the warm midday sun, smiling softly.

He looked like a harmless, obedient child.

—

At Jinghua Palace, Liu Zhengping delivered the emperor’s order to Consort Shu.

She was brushing the hair of the Eighth Princess. After dismissing Liu Zhengping, her arched brows furrowed slightly with irritation.

She preferred quiet and disliked noise and bustle.

Still, an imperial command was not to be ignored. She could only carry it out dutifully.

That afternoon, she summoned two noble daughters: Cheng Mujin, the Left Chancellor’s eldest legitimate granddaughter, and Tao Ningxin, the youngest granddaughter of the Right Chancellor.
She also sent word to other palaces, inviting Princess Huachao to Chunmei Palace the next day for plum blossom viewing.

—

Meanwhile, Qing Yan was curled up in the corner of her bed, bundled in blankets like a little ball.

“If you’re sick, you need to take medicine.”

Wen Xi frowned at her.

Qing Yan curved her eyes into crescent moons and gave a winning smile.
“When I was little, I’d just bundle up and drink hot water when I was sick.
I always got better on my own—no medicine needed.”

She wasn’t lying. Back when she was just a servant, she couldn’t afford medicine for every cold.
Instead, she’d drink as much hot water as she could, bury herself under a quilt, and sweat it out.
Only when it became unbearable would she splurge on medicine.

That day she jumped into Ouhé Lake, soaking herself through.
With the late winter wind, catching a chill was inevitable.

Still, it had taken two days for the fever to show, which even Wen Xi found odd.

Wen Xi reached over and touched her forehead.
Sure enough, she wasn’t running a fever like she had the night before.

“Can you manage to go to Chunmei Palace tomorrow?”

Qing Yan nodded enthusiastically.
“I promise to be a perfectly healthy Princess of Huachao for you, Sister Wen Xi!”

Wen Xi didn’t press further. She handed her a cloth soaked in medicinal water.
“Use this on your eyes.”

Qing Yan paused before taking it.
She didn’t place it on her eyes right away, but asked suddenly,
“Sister Wen Xi… is Prince Zhan’s fief along the Zhan Yuan River?”

Wen Xi nodded.

“Then why hasn’t he ever gone there?
Will he stay in the capital forever?”

“Prince Kang was a special case—he had a leg condition and withdrew completely from court affairs.
Other than that, no adult prince stays in the capital indefinitely.
Especially not someone like Prince Zhan, who poses a threat to the throne.
Even if His Majesty were willing, the court officials would never allow it.
Now that he’s taken monastic vows on behalf of the emperor, once the three years are up, he’ll likely leave for his fief.”

“Oh…” Qing Yan held the medicinal cloth in her hand, a bit absent-minded.

“What’s the matter?”

She shook her head, lay down obediently, and covered her eyes.

Wen Xi didn’t ask further, quietly closing the door behind her as she left.

The medicinal cloth stung the moment it touched her eyes, making them tear up uncontrollably.
Qing Yan gritted her teeth against the pain and thought of the Zhan Yuan River.

She was from Zhan Yuan.
Born and raised in Zhan Yuan Prefecture.
Her former mistress was the daughter of the Prefect there.
She didn’t want to go back—she couldn’t go back.
Someone there would surely recognize her true identity.

“What do I do…” she mumbled, eyes gradually lighting up as an idea formed.
Why did it have to be her, using seduction to change Emperor Wenhe’s mind?

“Maybe I’ve been thinking about this all wrong…”
Qing Yan suddenly pulled the cloth from her eyes.
“No one can force Prince Zhan. If I annoy him enough, he might just go to the emperor himself and ask not to marry me!”

Outside, Wen Xi knocked firmly and scolded,
“Your time’s not up—don’t take the compress off secretly.”

Startled, Qing Yan flopped back onto the bed and obediently lay still.

---

The next morning, just as she’d said, her fever was gone.
Wen Xi observed her closely—Qing Yan now moved with ease, showing no trace of yesterday’s heat or weakness.

It was honestly impressive.

Chunmei Palace, a winter imperial retreat for viewing plum blossoms, was vast and filled with dozens of varieties of plum trees—truly a spectacle.
In addition to the flowers, the palace also had hot springs, a great indulgence in winter.

But Qing Yan had no interest in flower viewing. She was distracted and inattentive.

Consort Shu was quiet and only spoke occasionally to fulfill her duty as hostess.
Cheng Mujin was gentle and quiet by nature.
Tao Ningxin was lively, but only when she felt like it.

Seeing how silent everyone was, Qing Yan lost the desire to make small talk. She propped her chin in her hand and stared silently at the blossoms.

Lunch was served at Chunmei Palace.
The moment it arrived, the dazed Qing Yan immediately perked up, eyes lighting with focus as they locked onto the array of delicacies.

When Wen Xi handed her chopsticks, she subtly pressed Qing Yan’s palm with her pinky—
a signal.

Qing Yan understood and straightened up properly, letting the maids serve her before taking small, delicate bites.

Still, she felt like eating this way sucked all the joy out of food.

She thought her bites were small and elegant, but in others’ eyes, it was a picture of serious, almost reverent eating.

Consort Shu couldn’t help but glance at her.

Qing Yan kept her gaze lowered, focused on the food. Her lips opened and closed slightly as she chewed, her soft pale cheeks moving just a bit.

It was the same food, yet when she ate it, it somehow seemed more delicious.

Consort Shu took a sip of tea, glanced at Qing Yan again, and—perhaps infected by her enthusiasm—ate a little more than usual herself.

After lunch, trays of fresh fruit and delicate pastries were brought out.

Qing Yan didn’t care that no one was speaking. She nibbled on cakes quietly.
Following Wen Xi’s earlier instructions, she took tiny bites and let each one melt slowly in her mouth.

Just then, a maid announced that Princess Consort Kang had arrived.

But her presence did little to warm the chilly atmosphere of the room.

Only after Qing Yan had sampled every unfamiliar pastry on the table did she wash her hands in the basin provided.

Then she turned to Consort Shu and said directly,
“Your Ladyship, I have something I’d like to ask.”

Everyone looked up—finally, someone was breaking the awkward silence.

“What is it, Princess?”

“I wanted to ask—does Your Ladyship know what Prince Zhan dislikes?”

The room fell into stunned silence.

Though it was no secret that the emperor intended to marry her to Prince Zhan, to ask so bluntly was… a bit much.
Everyone, including Consort Shu, assumed she was trying to find a way to win Prince Zhan’s favor.

“Prince Zhan…” Consort Shu did know a bit more than others, but she had to choose her words carefully.
After some thought, she replied,
“In my opinion, Prince Zhan dislikes women who are too forward.”

Tao Ningxin let out a little laugh and added,
“Her Ladyship’s not wrong. Plenty of bold girls have tried throwing themselves at him—best case, they got a cold look. Worst case… they didn’t survive it.”

Not fond of forward women?

Qing Yan’s eyes moved slightly as she recalled their first meeting at Yongzhou Temple—her nervous awkwardness mistaken for seduction…

Consort Shu added,
“Also, he hates cats.”

Cheng Mujin looked at Qing Yan.
“Princess, when are you to marry Prince Zhan?”

Tao Ningxin teased,
“Sister Mujin, don’t be so direct—you’ve made the princess blush!”

Qing Yan touched her face and muttered dejectedly,
“But I don’t even get to see him…”

“Cough!”
Consort Shu choked on her tea, shocked by Qing Yan’s honesty.
This princess… was even more blunt than County Princess Zhenxian.
That… might be a problem.

Princess Consort Kang, who had been listening quietly, finally spoke:
“These plum trees bloom every year—there’s nothing new in seeing them.
This winter, I raised a few in my own garden. Perhaps you’d like to visit?”

She smiled at Qing Yan, then added:
“By the way, Princess Huachao may not know this, but Prince Zhan’s residence was damaged three years ago.
Since then, he’s stayed at the Kang residence whenever he’s returned to the capital.”

Qing Yan’s calm eyes lit up like starlight flooding a river.
Her pretty face seemed to glow with it, dimming everyone else’s by comparison.
A single look, a single smile—some faces truly did change with emotion.

Qing Yan tilted her head.
“Bring me a food box.”

The others watched in confusion as she carefully selected one of each pastry from the table and packed them into the box.

—

Their group arrived at Prince Kang’s residence, and just as they entered the front courtyard, they encountered Duan Wucuo and Prince Kang, Duan Wuyu.

Prince Kang, with his leg ailment, sat in a wheelchair.
Duan Wucuo walked beside him.

Consort Shu was just considering whether they should step aside when something lavender darted past her peripheral vision.

She froze.

Before anyone else could react, Qing Yan, holding the food box with both hands, skipped straight toward Duan Wucuo.

She stopped in front of him, raised her face, and looked up with affectionate eyes.

Then, lifting the lid of the box, she said sweetly,
“I made these myself—won’t you try one?”

Everyone behind her—Consort Shu, Princess Consort Kang, Cheng Mujin, and Tao Ningxin—stood frozen in disbelief.

Duan Wucuo’s gaze drifted from her clear eyes to the little box she held.

After a pause, he picked up a lotus-flavored crisp cake.

Under Qing Yan’s expectant gaze, his long, well-shaped fingers brought the delicate pastry to his lips and took a bite.

Then he said,
“Open your mouth.”

Qing Yan blinked in confusion.
“Huh—?”

Before she could finish, Duan Wucuo stuffed the bitten pastry into her mouth, his thumb slowly wiping the jam off the corner of her lips.

Then, he said,

“Disgusting.”

°❀.ೃ࿔°❀.ೃ࿔

The Empress experienced a disturbance in her pregnancy and even began bleeding through her skirt.

Everyone was terrified.

Emperor Wen He, in a panic, rushed to her side, calling out “Empress” over and over as he tried to help her sit down.

The Empress, furious and disgusted by the smell of the room, cast a vicious glare at Su Ruqing and insisted on returning to Huafeng Palace.

All eyes were on the Empress and the unborn child in her belly—no one spared a glance for Su Ruqing, who sat huddled in the corner of the bed.

Su Ruche took the opportunity while everyone had left to quietly enter the room.

She looked at her dazed and broken sister lying on the bed, and scenes of their many years of closeness as sisters flashed through her mind.

She walked slowly to the bedside and softly called, “Sister.”

Su Ruqing, disheveled, clutched the blanket tightly around herself.

Her hair was a mess, her hairpin broken and hanging askew. Her makeup was ruined, her face covered in tears.

She lifted her head and looked at Su Ruche, voice hoarse: “Why?”

“I did it for your own good,” Su Ruche said gently, sitting on the edge of the bed and wiping her sister’s tears with a handkerchief.

Su Ruqing shoved her away violently and slapped her hard across the face.

Su Ruche touched her cheek, then calmly sat upright again and straightened her pristine new clothes.

With a cheerful tone, she said, “I want to be Princess Zhan too.”

Su Ruqing was stunned, her voice trembling: “You’ve only seen Prince Zhan once—you didn’t even speak to him!”

“So what? Didn’t you also fall for Prince Zhan after seeing him just once, casting aside the pride of a county princess and the modesty of a woman—crying, chasing, using every tactic—becoming a joke among the daughters of the capital?
I never understood why you were like that until the day, thanks to you, I met Prince Zhan. Then I understood what it meant to fall for someone at first sight. Seems we truly are sisters—with such similar taste.”

Su Ruqing was shaking with rage, her entire body trembling.

“If I helped you get rid of the Princess Huachao,” Su Ruche continued, “I’d just have to go through the trouble of dealing with you again to win Prince Zhan. But now, by making you His Majesty’s consort, you’ll live out your life in luxury and honor. Isn’t that a wonderful ending?
I did it for your sake—to help you choose the best path.”

She smiled innocently.

“You’re shameless!”

The physical pain on Su Ruqing’s body was nothing compared to the pain in her heart.
To be betrayed by the one she trusted most—it pierced her deeper than a thousand arrows.

After pain came hatred.

Clutching the brocade quilt, Su Ruqing glared at Su Ruche and rasped, “You think you’ll get away with this?
Even if it kills me, I’ll make sure the world knows what you’ve done!”

Su Ruche chuckled and asked lightly, “And who would believe you?”

“First, you once clung to Prince Zhan relentlessly, using every underhanded method and shaming your own dignity.
Now that you know Prince Zhan is set to marry Princess Huachao, and you can’t be Princess Zhan, you suddenly want to climb into the emperor’s bed. No one would be surprised.”

“Second, it was you who asked Nanny Su for the Passion Smoke.
Chun Chi is your maid.
These things can be checked. None of it has anything to do with me.”

“Third, I told the Empress that you resented her for ruining your match with Prince Zhan and wanted revenge—
wanted her, while pregnant, to know the pain of losing the one she loved. Think the Empress won’t believe that?
You did say she was selfish and ignored sisterly bonds, didn’t you?”

“Fourth, if you tell our parents—
we’re both their daughters. What makes you so sure they’ll believe you over me?
I remember Mother often saying, ‘Your sister is younger. You must yield to her.’”

“Fifth, what truth can you speak of?
That we helped Princess Huachao sneak into the emperor’s bed?
Such a plot against His Majesty is a serious crime.
And besides… with things as they are, do you think the Princess will admit it?”

“Sixth, if you plan to make a public fuss—
what will you say?
That you were… violated by His Majesty?”

Su Ruche’s voice dropped low: “Sister, do you want to die?”

Su Ruqing shivered.

The chill reached her bones.

Su Ruche’s words were like blades, cutting her bit by bit.

From flesh, to bone, to marrow.

Leaving her bloodied and torn.

After a long while, Su Ruqing slowly closed her eyes.

Su Ruche bent over and gently hugged her, smiling: “Have you thought about what comes next, Sister? Probably not. But I couldn’t bear to see you suffer, so I’ve thought it all through for you. His Majesty will think you seduced him deliberately. And they say men fall for this sort of thing.

You’re beautiful, Sister. If you show a little care, winning his favor shouldn’t be hard.

Besides, as long as Father remains Prince Xingyuan, no one in this palace would dare mistreat you.

As for the Empress… just apologize.
You’re sisters—she’ll only be angry for a while.”

Su Ruqing said nothing. It was unclear if she was even listening.

“Today is my coming-of-age ceremony,” Su Ruche said cheerfully. “The other ladies are waiting for me.
I won’t keep you company any longer.”

She waved her hand and ordered,
“Chun Chi, Qiu Wan—take good care of your mistress. Don’t let my dear sister catch a chill.”

Chun Chi and Qiu Wan bowed their heads and acknowledged the command.

Su Ruche rose and walked out.

Her lips still carried a smile, and in her mind appeared the face of Duan Wucuo.

Her sister said she’d only seen him once. That wasn’t true.

She had seen him three times.

The first time, in the palace, when she first felt her heart stir.

The second time, at the viewing pavilion, when she climbed the stone steps toward him and stood behind him, gazing at his back.

The third time… was today.

Just past noon, Su Ruche went to report it a second time.

“Prince Zhan, my sister wants to take Princess Huachao and sneak into His Majesty’s bed.
No matter how I tried to dissuade her, she wouldn’t listen.
The Princess is young and naive—she’s been fooled!”

He replied, “No matter.
His Majesty has been resting in the side hall recently.”

Prince Zhan smiled at her—the first time he’d ever smiled at her—and it completely scattered her senses.

Watching Su Ruche walk away, Su Ruqing’s tear-filled eyes slowly lost their confusion and pain.

She gripped the blanket tightly, snapping her fingernails.
Blood seeped into the brocade, but she didn’t even notice.

After a while, she turned her gaze toward Chun Chi.

Chun Chi kept her head bowed low, trembling and crying as she said,
“It was County Princess Zhenshan who threatened me with Dong’er’s life… I didn’t dare beg for mercy. Please punish me…”

“You must’ve been forced. Good girl, I don’t blame you.”

Chun Chi looked up in shock, unable to believe what she had just heard.

Su Ruqing slowly smiled.
The madness in her eyes spread freely, like thorned vines growing wildly in every dark corner of her heart.

—

In the wardrobe next door, Qing Yan had her ear pressed to the wall, straining to hear. She vaguely made out that the Empress had suffered a complication in her pregnancy and was summoning the imperial physician.

After a fresh wave of commotion, the people in the neighboring room seemed to have gradually dispersed.

She heard Su Ruche had been there—and had left.

But the sisters hadn’t spoken loudly, so Qing Yan couldn’t make out their words.

Not knowing whether any palace staff still lingered outside, she didn’t dare to leave rashly.

She peeked up at Duan Wucuo.

He was already looking down at her.

She quickly looked away, pretending she hadn’t seen him.

But Duan Wucuo simply opened the wardrobe door wide. Light flooded in, scorching Qing Yan’s eyes like fire.

She shut them tight at once.

Duan Wucuo stepped out. When she didn’t follow, he turned back and asked,
“Does the princess plan to live in the wardrobe?”

Qing Yan shook her head and slowly opened her eyes, which were misted with tears, soaking her violet pupils and making them look lighter than usual.

Duan Wucuo stared at her eyes a moment longer, then swept his gaze toward the closed window.

The afternoon sun was cut into slices by the window lattice, casting patterns on the floor.

Still, it was only indoor light.

Qing Yan rubbed her eyes to ease the burning.

Then she asked in a quiet voice,
“So… we’re just walking out the main entrance, just like that?”

“There’s no back door, and no dog hole for the princess to crawl through.”

Qing Yan furrowed her brows, just about to retort—
When footsteps approached, she darted back into the wardrobe in a flash.

“Come back here!” she whispered, waving to Duan Wucuo.

But he completely ignored her.

A gorgeously dressed noblewoman hurried in. She didn’t seem surprised to see Duan Wucuo.

Qing Yan recognized that face—she’d seen her once in Chang’an Hall. This must be one of His Majesty’s consorts.

No need to guess—it was Consort Shu.

“Your Highness.”
Consort Shu lowered her eyes and knelt respectfully before Duan Wucuo.

Qing Yan’s eyes widened.

How could a consort kneel to a prince?

And Duan Wucuo didn’t even offer courtesy in return. With a casual, “You may rise,” it was clear this was their usual dynamic.

Qing Yan’s heart pounded—
Could it be… the rumors about Prince Zhan and Consort Shu weren’t about an affair, but coercion?
Was he forcing her…?

Consort Shu rose and looked toward the wardrobe.
With one door open and one closed, Qing Yan was half-hidden, hand on the handle as if she’d been about to shut it.

She felt terribly awkward and forced down her curiosity, stepping out of the wardrobe.

Duan Wucuo glanced at her and said to Consort Shu, “Escort her out.”

“Yes.”

Consort Shu approached Qing Yan and spoke kindly, “Princess, this way please.”

Qing Yan smiled politely and nodded, following her.

As she passed Duan Wucuo, she quickened her pace noticeably.

Outside Jinghua Palace, Qing Yan spotted Wen Xi waiting in the distance.
She stopped Consort Shu from escorting her further and walked off on her own, taking graceful steps just as Wen Xi had taught her.

Consort Shu remained at the roadside, watching her go with a quiet sigh.

Wen Xi came forward, shook out the cloak over her arm, and draped it over Qing Yan, even adjusting the hood for her.

Mistress and maid walked onward together, composed and unhurried.

Wen Xi asked in a low voice, “Are you alright?”

Qing Yan murmured, “Mm,” and said no more.

Wen Xi didn’t press. The palace wasn’t the place for open talk—this would have to wait.

Once they boarded the carriage and sat down, Qing Yan spoke:

“I think it was County Princess Zhenshan who set up her own sister.”

The palace was already abuzz with the news:
The Empress had rushed into Jinghua Palace, only to find the emperor and County Princess Zhenxian disheveled on the same bed. She had been so enraged that it triggered her pregnancy complications.

Wen Xi had been waiting outside and knew the rough outlines, but the details had eluded her.
Now, hearing Qing Yan’s take, it did seem the most plausible explanation.

As for why Zhenshan would harm her sister—Wen Xi didn’t know.

And neither did Qing Yan.

After a pause, Qing Yan suddenly said,
“I guess I won’t be marrying the emperor after all…”

When Xi’s heart sank, unease creeping in.

…

The carriage rocked—this road ahead was anything but smooth.

All this struggling… was only for a smoother path.

The secret of impersonating the princess weighed on her constantly, leaving her no peace.

Qing Yan blinked slowly, then cautiously peeked at Wen Xi’s expression.

She reached out and tugged Wen Xi’s sleeve, saying sweetly,
“Sister Wen Xi, if anyone ever gets suspicious—
please make me a beggar’s chicken with rat poison inside.

Let me die early, under the princess’s name.
Then no one would ever suspect anything.”

Wen Xi’s heart trembled violently.
She snapped, “You really don’t want to live right, do you?!”

Qing Yan flinched, shoulders trembling, shrinking away.

She was terrified of Wen Xi’s scolding.

Wen Xi suppressed her anger and softened her tone:“You’re going to impersonate this princess properly. Don’t you dare entertain such thoughts again!”

Qing Yan hugged her knees and nodded hard.

A while later, Wen Xi’s face was still dark.

Qing Yan cautiously tugged her sleeve again.

When Wen Xi looked over, Qing Yan immediately lifted the corners of her mouth, dimples deepening as she smiled sweetly:

“Sister Wen Xi, so… do we get beggar’s chicken for dinner tonight?”

Wen Xi, exasperated, grabbed a red bean pastry from the tray beside her and stuffed it into Qing Yan’s mouth.

°❀.ೃ࿔°❀.ೃ࿔

The moment the palace doors closed behind her, Qing Yan hesitated.

Climbing into someone’s bed… was truly disgraceful.
Just the thought of it made her feel deeply uncomfortable.

If she were Qing’er, she would never have agreed.
Just like before.

But she was Qing Yan now.
She had returned to Yi Kingdom only to repay Princess Huachao’s life-saving grace.
Even her life could be given in return—so what was a little discomfort?

She had known from the start this was a political marriage. That matter would have to happen sooner or later.
She always joked to Wen Xi about wanting to live a peaceful life in the Cold Palace.
That was partly true—but mostly, it was a tactic to make herself seem insignificant, so no one would dig into her true identity.

The inner palace was filled with women. As long as she kept her head down, eventually people would forget her.
Even if the palace was a cage, it was one that could protect her. She didn’t want to leave it.
She feared meeting anyone from her past—even if it was unlikely.

If she were married to someone else, she’d inevitably have to attend banquets and meet others.
And more importantly, she truly didn’t want to marry Prince Zhan.

Every time she thought of that title, she remembered being scolded as a child by older maids:
“If you can’t even do this, just wait till Prince Zhan gets hold of you—he’ll break your arms and legs and boil you for the wolves!”

Especially after meeting Duan Wucuo in person, Qing Yan had treated him like a plague god.

She didn’t dare look into his eyes. His smiling eyes always seemed like they could see right through her.

She didn’t even know why, but whenever she met Duan Wucuo’s gaze, she felt a guilty conscience—like he would expose her any second.
And if he did, her death wouldn’t matter—but she couldn’t drag down Princess Huachao because of her own foolishness.

Qing Yan quietly took a breath to steel her nerves.

So what if it was seduction?

She could handle this.

On the way to Yi Kingdom, she had secretly studied little pamphlets on the subject.

She finally crept to the side of the bed and cautiously lifted her eyes—Emperor Wen He wore pale snow-colored trousers.

Just one glance, and she quickly dropped her gaze, not daring to look higher.

Her heart thumped wildly.

“If I dawdle, he’s going to wake up…” she muttered.

She bit her lip, slipped off her shoes at the foot of the bed, and—bracing herself—climbed in.

She moved carefully, bending to avoid the emperor’s legs, inching along the wall like a little snail.

She didn’t make a single sound, not even in her breathing.

At last, she made it to the far side of the bed, pressed against the wall, still on her hands and knees, motionless.
She didn’t dare look at the man lying beside her.

“I need to lie down…” she told herself three times before her stiff body finally moved again.

Still cautiously, she straightened her legs, slowly turned onto her side, and lay down facing the wall.

Her face was nearly flush with it.

Such a simple action—yet Qing Yan felt she’d used up all her strength.
Her hand near her face clenched slightly, fingers trembling.

Now that she had climbed into the bed and thrown away her shame, she was terrified for her life again.
What if the Yi emperor woke up and found her there? Would he fly into a rage?

Should she wait for him to wake naturally, or wake him herself?

If he needed to be called awake by servants, there’d be no moment alone to carry out the “seduction” plan.

Qing Yan was still lost in worry when the man behind her suddenly rolled over.

She stiffened at once.

His breath brushed against the back of her neck, sending a chill and a tingle down her spine.

Then, a weight pressed down on her waist—his hand.

Qing Yan froze for a long time, but he made no further move.

Was he still asleep?

She quietly let out a breath, but couldn’t relax.
The arm across her waist felt like a thousand pounds.

She scolded herself—
Qing’er, you’re so stupid!

Don’t be afraid. Grab his hand, turn around slowly, and look at him with the gentlest, most affectionate gaze of your life!

She finally summoned her courage and inched her little hand toward his.
Her fingers just touched the back of his hand—she flinched, then tried again.

She placed her palm lightly on top of his.

Her five fingers were stiff and outstretched.

His hand was slightly cool.

Now what?

Qing Yan slowly curled her pinky and lightly scratched the back of his hand.

It was feather-light.

Warmth rose from her pinky like a tiny flame slowly crawling upward.

Her hand froze again. Her mind blanked. She had no idea what to do next.

Then he suddenly flipped his hand over and caught hers.

Her hand was so small. His was large and strong.
Her fingers lay limp and obedient in his grip.

His thumb gently, slowly stroked the back of her hand.

Qing Yan froze.

Was he… awake?

People might unconsciously grab someone’s hand in their sleep.
But this slow, deliberate stroking—he was definitely awake.

Qing Yan shut her eyes and took a deep breath.
When she opened them again, she’d switched to the sweetest, gentlest smile she could manage.

She reached out and grasped his hand—cold and heavy—carefully holding his index finger.
Then, as gracefully, tenderly, and alluringly as she could, she turned to face him.

Her eyes lifted slowly, full of soft shimmer.

But the moment her gaze met Prince Zhan’s—

All the grace, all the charm she had painstakingly summoned—collapsed in an instant.
What remained was pure embarrassment.

The tenderness on her face hadn’t even faded yet—now it only served to mock her.

“P-Prince Zhan…”

Duan Wucuo had propped himself up, clearly watching her for a while now.
Who knew how much of her squirming, flustered performance he’d already seen.

He spoke at last, voice unhurried and indifferent:

“This humble monk is a man of the cloth, devoted to precepts and worship.
For a woman to tempt others into breaking their vows and harming their cultivation—
In death, such a soul must descend to the Eighteenth Level of Hell.”

Qing Yan’s scalp tingled. She instantly yanked her hand from Prince Zhan’s and scrambled backward.

But the wall was behind her—there was nowhere to run.
Her head struck the wall hard, the pain bringing tears to her eyes.

Everyone said Prince Zhan killed with a smile.
If he smiled at you, you ought to feel danger.

Yet as Qing Yan glared at him with wide almond eyes, she found the legend lacking.
It was this expressionless version of Prince Zhan that made her hair stand on end, made her tremble with dread.

He spoke again, slowly and deliberately:
“At Ouhé Lake, I thought the princess was merely naive, being used by the two county princesses.
Now I see—you were an accomplice from the start.”

Qing Yan hurriedly stammered,
“I—I… I won’t tell anyone what I saw between you and Consort Shu, alright? So please don’t tell anyone I tried to seduce the emperor either, okay?”

Prince Zhan was visibly stunned, his gaze faltering for a moment.

“Me and Consort Shu?”

Wasn’t that the case?

If not, why else would he be resting in her bed?

Qing Yan nodded firmly, whispering,
“Let’s just keep each other’s secrets, alright?
We’ll pretend none of this ever happened—we didn’t see each other at all!”

Prince Zhan let out a breathy laugh, clearly exasperated.

Ever since he returned from Yongzhou Temple, he had cultivated peace of mind and rarely lost his temper.
Yet today, Qing Yan had managed to provoke him twice in a single day.

He raised his hand, knuckles brushing her cheek.

To Qing Yan, it felt like something cold and slithering—dangerous and numbing.

His hand slowly trailed down to her slender neck.
Then, without warning, he gripped it and lifted her before him.

Her face was mere inches from his.
At such close range, her every exhale warmed his face—slightly sweet.

Her eyes were full of panic, like a startled fawn lost in the misty woods after rain.

Qing Yan forced herself to be bold:
“If you don’t let go of me, my imperial father will send troops to defend my honor!”

But as soon as she spoke, the sweet scent brushing his face grew stronger.

Prince Zhan didn’t respond.
He only furrowed his brow slightly, the disgust between his brows obvious—
and his hand around her neck relaxed and let go.

Just then, Qing Yan—already tightly wound—heard movement from the next room.

A woman’s startled cry, quickly muffled.
Whether by someone else’s hand or her own, she couldn’t tell.

Then came soft sounds—half crying, half moaning.

Qing Yan blinked in confusion.

And then came the unmistakable sound of a canopy bed shaking.

The room next door was built later, sharing only a thin wall with this one. It didn’t insulate sound.

The bed must’ve been pushed right up against the wall, because each time it creaked, it thudded against it—sending the sound straight through.

Qing Yan lifted her head, eyes drifting to the canopy tassels above the bed, which seemed to sway along with the noise.

She finally understood what was happening—and her face flushed crimson.
Utterly humiliated, she buried her face in the bedding.

Prince Zhan glanced down at her.

Even her ornate gown couldn’t conceal how delicate she was—so thin at the waist, she looked like she might break with a touch.

A beauty like a painting… but no trace of regal composure.

Her green skirt pooled messily around her; one foot curled beneath it, the other bare with a silk stocking halfway off, revealing her soft round heel.

She was lying prone, flushed cheeks buried in the bed, her hairpiece askew.
A portion of her nape was exposed—smooth and white as jade.

Prince Zhan reached out and gently adjusted the hair ornament by her temple.

Then he said:
“This humble monk shall gift the princess a tortoise shell one day.”

Qing Yan bit the bedding and mouthed:
Not listening, not listening—stupid tortoise chanting sutras!

Outside, a flurry of footsteps approached—many people, it sounded like.

And faintly, Qing Yan thought she heard the empress’s voice.

Startled, she immediately raised her head to look toward the door.

“What do we do?”
She grabbed Prince Zhan’s hand in a panic, eyes wide with worry.

“Are they coming to catch us in the act?
If they find us like this… and the emperor orders a marriage between us—what then?!”

She didn’t know that the emperor had already discussed such a match with Prince Zhan in private—and Prince Zhan had agreed to it.

He glanced at her hand grasping his, then at her face.

Her face was even redder than he’d expected.

Just as the guards burst in, Prince Zhan picked up her shoe and stocking and dragged her into the wardrobe.

It was cramped, filled with women’s clothes.
Consort Shu’s garments had been perfumed, and the fragrance filled the tight space.

Light filtered in through the carved slats.

It took a moment before Qing Yan noticed what he held—her stocking and shoe.

She froze, then bashfully tugged up her skirt and peeked at her foot.
Sure enough—she was missing a stocking.

She wrinkled her brow in embarrassment, then gently pulled the stocking from Prince Zhan’s fingers and awkwardly tried to put it on.

Balancing on one foot, she nearly toppled into the wardrobe wall.

Prince Zhan steadied her—she stumbled forward, bumping her forehead into his chest.

Her ears turned red.
She shifted away from him, ears perked to catch the sound outside.

The guards hadn’t searched thoroughly—once they saw no one on the bed, they rushed into the next room.

Then came a brief stillness… followed by the sound of kneeling.

“All hail His Majesty!”

Mixed with that, the sound of a woman sobbing.

Qing Yan stared in shock—unable to believe it.

So… Emperor Wen He was in the next room?

“Ruqing?”

—It was the empress’s voice.

High-pitched and sharp, filled with disbelief and fury worthy of her station.

“Elder Sister! Someone set me up! You must stand up for me!”

That was Su Ruqing, crying for help.

The emperor seemed to say something, but it was too far to hear clearly.

Then came another shout—this time from one of the older palace maids:

“Quick! Summon the imperial physician—!”

°❀.ೃ࿔°❀.ೃ࿔

Su Ruche was close with her younger brother Su Hongfang, so naturally, she didn’t like how Qing Yan was speaking. And being used to her own noble status, she disliked Qing Yan’s commanding attitude even more.

The thought that Duan Wucuo might marry Qing Yan first made Su Ruche feel nauseated.
She wanted nothing more than to ruin Qing Yan completely.

But there was no choice—stealing the position of Princess Zhan from Qing Yan would certainly be easier than taking it from her own sister.

So, for now, she could only stomach the disgust and help push Qing Yan into marrying Duan Wucuo.

She said, “All right. If not today, there’s always next time. No need to worry, Sisters. But we can’t just keep hiding here—there are so many guests outside. We can’t risk raising suspicion. We’ll come up with a better plan another day. Besides, since the princess will be staying in the capital, it’s best to meet more people today while there’s a chance.”

Su Ruqing casually replied, “When the princess becomes a noble consort in the future, there’ll be no need for her to reach out to anyone.”

Su Ruche paused, then gave an awkward smile.
“You’re right. That was careless of me.”

The Su sisters had already begun to form different assumptions—or perhaps different hopes—regarding Qing Yan’s future.

“Why not just finish it all in one go today?
As a foreign princess, she can’t just enter the palace freely. After today, seeing His Majesty again will be nearly impossible.
The only question is—does the princess dare take the risk?”

Su Ruqing spoke with resolve.

Su Ruche’s eyes flickered as she asked first, “Sister, what’s your idea?”

“His Majesty always naps at Consort Shu’s quarters in the afternoon.
As someone from Yi Kingdom, it’s not impossible for Princess Huachao to get lost on her first visit to the palace. Consort Shu’s palace isn’t far from here.”

Su Ruche quickly objected, “That’s far too risky.
Even if the princess doesn’t know the palace, it wouldn’t make sense for her to end up at Mirror Flower Palace during a banquet at Yuexi Palace.
And how would we handle the guards there?
Besides, we might have already stirred suspicion today. Shouldn’t we be more cautious?”

She shook her head repeatedly, clearly disagreeing.

Of course, she didn’t want Qing Yan to meet the emperor and actually become a consort.

Su Ruqing had been hesitant at first, but now her mind was made up.

She said,
“Everyone knows Consort Shu and the Empress don’t get along.
If not for Her Majesty back then, Consort Shu’s child wouldn’t have died.”

“Sister! Watch your words!”

Su Ruqing pressed on without fear,
“Huachao is working with us. That makes her one of us.
If she’s going to enter the palace, it’s better she learns about its filth early on.
Consort Shu’s always been trying to place people around His Majesty.
If our princess makes the first move and aligns with her against the Empress, she’ll definitely agree to help.”

“But… still… I think it’s too reckless.
Far too reckless!”

The sisters began to argue.

Qing Yan rested her chin in her hands and silently watched the two bicker.

Wen Xi stood behind her, face expressionless.

“Princess, what do you think?”
Unable to come to an agreement, the Su sisters turned to Qing Yan.

Qing Yan asked,
“What do I do?
Just wait for His Majesty and then try to seduce him?
I don’t think I know how…”

Su Ruche jumped in,
“Exactly. The princess isn’t even prepared.
It really is too hasty.”

Su Ruqing gently took Qing Yan’s hand and said,
“The princess is beautiful. Just walk up to His Majesty, smile at him—and that’s enough.”

Qing Yan imagined Emperor Wen He’s large, round face.

Su Ruqing made it sound so simple, but Qing Yan knew—it still came down to throwing herself into his arms.

She frowned, feeling a little repulsed.

Suddenly, a different image flashed in her mind: Duan Wucuo’s smiling gaze.

She didn’t know why, but her foot suddenly tingled. That strange, numbing sensation crept back from her memory, making her feel it all over again.

Qing Yan’s shoulders shuddered.

Better one sharp pain than prolonged agony. Seeing Prince Zhan every day was simply too terrifying.

She truly didn’t want to see that inexplicable jinx ever again.

Qing Yan nodded—vigorously.

So what if it meant seduction?

If it meant earning a peaceful life in the Cold Palace someday, she could endure it.

Back then, it was because she wouldn’t endure that she ran away from the life she had known for years—turning Qing’er into Qing Yan.

Su Ruqing let out a breath of relief. Su Ruche’s smile faded a little.

The three split up, each assigned a task.

Su Ruqing went to see Consort Shu. Su Ruche, as the birthday girl, had to entertain the guests.

As guests offered their congratulations, Su Ruche grew increasingly uneasy.

She hesitated, unsure whether she should inform Duan Wucuo again.

Would a second message make him think she had ulterior motives?

But even if she didn’t notify Duan Wucuo, she was determined to sabotage Su Ruqing’s plan.

Meanwhile, Qing Yan strolled through the garden like any other guest, once again drawing curious glances from many.

She kept her expression calm and walked exactly as Wen Xi had instructed her countless times—poised and elegant—while quietly admiring the scenery of Yuexi Palace from the viewing corridor.

Of course, she also ate a fair share of the delicate pastries on the small side tables.

Wen Xi lowered her voice, “Something’s off.”

“Mhm…” Qing Yan nodded. “I’ve thought it through carefully.
It’s possible that Prince Zhan being at Ouhe Lake was just a coincidence—he’s always been strange and hard to read.
But it’s far more likely someone from the Su sisters tipped him off.
Princess Zhenxian is desperate to marry Prince Zhan—she’d love to see me get sent into the palace.
So the one who tattled can only be Princess Zhenshan.
As for why? I’ve no idea.
Maybe the sisters don’t get along, and she wanted to mess with her elder sister on purpose.”

“They’re using you.” Wen Xi said grimly.

Qing Yan glanced around to make sure no one was watching, then took a big bite of a pickled goose meatball. She covered her mouth with her sleeve as she chewed and swallowed, saying,
“Isn’t it mutual use?”

Wen Xi glanced sideways at Qing Yan’s carefree face.

For a moment, she couldn’t tell whether Qing Yan was being hopelessly naïve or whether she truly had everything under control.

“Princess Huachao.”

Qing Yan had just reached out for another goose meatball when someone called her. She subtly changed course and picked up a small rose pastry instead.

“From afar, I saw the princess sitting alone. I hope I’m not intruding on your peace,” said the girl, stepping closer.

Wen Xi bowed slightly and explained in a low voice,
“This is Cheng Muxin, eldest granddaughter of the Left Chancellor.”

Qing Yan smiled warmly and invited Cheng Muxin to sit with her.

As soon as she did, the noble ladies who had long been curious about Qing Yan also came over to greet her.

Soon, another girl arrived, surrounded by other young noblewomen.

“That’s Tao Ningxin, the Right Chancellor’s youngest granddaughter,” Wen Xi whispered.

Qing Yan understood immediately—these two were clearly rivals.

Though Cheng Muxin and Tao Ningxin weren’t openly hostile, both represented powerful families. On the surface, they exchanged sweet “sisterly” greetings, but in truth, they had been comparing themselves to each other since childhood.

What appeared to be a group of girls chatting was actually a quiet competition between Cheng and Tao.

At first, all eyes had been on the foreign princess with violet eyes. But soon, the back-and-forth between the two chancellor’s granddaughters stole the spotlight.

Qing Yan was happy to be left alone. She smiled, listening to their half-understood chatter, not caring whether she could follow the conversation—and happily sneaked in several more pastries.

“Did the princess sleep late today and miss breakfast?” someone asked.

Qing Yan followed along and said, “Yes, yes. I’m not used to the local climate, slept poorly, so I woke late.”

Immediately, the other girls started offering caring advice, recommending Yi Kingdom recipes and remedies to soothe her stomach and body.

Qing Yan listened earnestly and didn’t reach for more snacks.

When the midday banquet began, the girls all took their seats according to rank.

Once seated, Qing Yan found herself next to different people and could finally eat in peace.

But every time she reached for something, Wen Xi would let out a quiet cough—so little Qing Yan could only stare longingly at the distant delicacies, unable to eat more.

Nibbling her small portion, she silently counted how many dishes at the banquet she hadn’t tasted before. She memorized their appearance so she could try to find them again later.

Before she was satisfied, a maid from Su Ruqing’s side came to summon her.

She brought Wen Xi along and quietly regrouped with the Su sisters away from the crowd.

Su Ruche was smiling brightly.
“No issues with Consort Shu,” she reported.

Su Ruqing looked at her sister with gratitude.

Though they had disagreed earlier, her sister had clearly meant well—and in the end, had gone with her to persuade Consort Shu personally.

The three of them, accompanied by a few maids, quietly made their way along a little-known path from Yuexi Palace toward Mirror Flower Palace.

Duan Wucuo stood hidden in the shadows, watching their sneaky figures.

The Eighth Princess looked up as if wanting to speak, but before she could say anything, Duan Wucuo lifted her by the collar and carried her toward the other side of Mirror Flower Palace.

The Eighth Princess was Consort Shu’s daughter.

Inside the palace bedchamber, all was quiet. Clearly, Consort Shu had sent away the attendants in advance. Only an older matron remained, waiting for them.

The matron asked them to wait. A young palace maid came out from inside and whispered something into her ear. The matron nodded toward Su Ruqing and led them inside.

Qing Yan followed behind the Su sisters, finally beginning to feel uneasy.

She was only supposed to pretend to be a princess. Why did she now have to perform this bedclimbing seduction act?

Just outside the inner chamber, Su Ruqing grabbed Qing Yan’s hand nervously and said, “Don’t be afraid, Princess.
His Majesty is already asleep. Once you climb in from the foot of the bed and lie beside him, everything will be settled when he wakes.”

Qing Yan took a deep breath. She had escaped death a few times already—now she just wanted to live properly.

Tiptoeing, she silently slipped into the inner chamber.

Su Ruqing dismissed Wen Xi to wait outside, then opened her palm.

“Sister, what’s that?” Su Ruche asked.

“Love-incense,” Su Ruqing replied.

Su Ruche froze slightly, already having an idea.

Such things weren’t uncommon in the harem.

Su Ruqing gripped her sister’s hand tightly, her eyes tinged with madness.
“I can’t wait any longer. I’ve already waited far too long for Prince Zhan! If I can’t marry him, I’ll go insane!”

Her voice trembled.

“I won’t allow any accidents. Only if Princess Huachao really gives herself to His Majesty will the Empress drop the idea of marrying her to Prince Zhan. The Empress only thinks of herself—she never considers her own sister!”

“But… if Princess Huachao finds out what you did someday…” Su Ruche’s gaze flickered.

“I don’t care anymore!”

“Alright, alright—I understand.
But this isn’t something you should personally do.
Let Chun Chi handle it.
And since the princess just went in, to avoid raising suspicion, we should wait before releasing the incense.”

Su Ruqing gradually calmed down.

She nodded and handed the love-incense to Chun Chi.

As the mistress, it was an unspoken rule not to do it herself.

“Good sister, thank you for worrying about me.
Today is your coming-of-age ceremony. You’ll be missed out front.
If you’re gone too long, Mother will start looking.
Go back—I’ll handle things here.”

Su Ruqing said.

“That’s what I was thinking too.”
Su Ruche looked once more at the closed chamber doors and smiled,
“Wishing you good news soon, Sister—may all your wishes come true.”

Su Ruqing nodded slowly.

Just before leaving, Su Ruche gave Chun Chi a meaningful glance.

She looked back at her sister one last time, steeled herself, and walked out.

Once Su Ruche had gone, Su Ruqing didn’t stay waiting outside the inner room either. She went to the room next door.

She waited anxiously, until she suddenly heard a man’s snoring.

Startled, Su Ruqing turned toward the bed behind the screen.

Click! — the sound of a lock falling.

Su Ruqing jolted upright, cold sweat breaking out all over.

Chun Chi poked a hole in the paper window and blew the incense inside.

But—this was not the Emperor Wen He’s usual nap room.

It was the next-door room where Su Ruqing herself waited.

At that very moment, little Qing Yan tiptoed inside the actual bedchamber, lifting her skirt like a sneaky little turtle, inching toward the bed.

Her brows scrunched up tight as she slowly raised her head to look at the man lying there.

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