Listening to Qi Yuchen recount the clan relatives who stood by and watched without helping, the loyal servants who stabbed them in the back, and even the bullying and betrayal they endured all the way south, Qing Luan was nearly furious to death.
She was angry at those Qi family members who put on airs as elders and bullied two fatherless children. She was also angry at Qi Zheng, who had never truly cared for his own children, raising them to be pampered and naive, so much so that they were easily swindled out of all their money with just a few sweet words, ending up homeless on the streets.
Qing Luan herself had received no love from her parents in her childhood. Now, looking at the homeless Qi Yuchen, she felt as if she were seeing herself sold off by her parents, her heart aching with bitterness.
She wiped the boy’s tears and listened as he cried, only learning later that after the brothers arrived in Yunxi, they were harassed by local ruffians. Qi Zhaoye was beaten until his head was bleeding, on the verge of death.
Fearing that his younger brother would be unprotected and sold off by the ruffians, Qi Yuchen followed Xiao Wu, who had helped them, all the way to Su Zhen’s Food Shop—only to find her there.
“My brother said that as long as I behave, Auntie would take me in, and my brother’s illness would get better too…”
Qi Yuchen’s face was streaked with tears, but Qing Luan was puzzled: If Qi Zhaoye still had the strength to plan for his brother, why didn’t he show himself?
After coaxing Qi Yuchen into taking her to Qi Zhaoye’s hiding place, she arrived to find the slender young man already collapsed on the ground.
The cold night wind swept through, chilling him to the bone.
Qing Luan hurried forward to help him up. What met her eyes was a face so swollen it was almost unrecognizable. Those once bright and proud eyes were now filled with nothing but a dazed, bloody emptiness and lifelessness.
“Zhaoye? Wake up!” No matter how she called, he wouldn’t stir, and Qing Luan’s heart clenched.
Thinking it over carefully, she realized Qi Zhaoye had coaxed Qi Yuchen into coming to find her, teaching him to say all those obedient words without mentioning his own injuries or illness. It seemed he had entrusted his brother to her and then resolved to die.
Qing Luan feared death more than anything.
She could do anything, but the one thing she couldn’t bear was giving up and waiting for death without even trying.
This child was only nine years old. Though he had faced many hardships recently, it wasn’t as if there was no way out. How could he so easily give up on himself? Not only was he wasting his own life, but he was also betraying the brother he had “deceived.”
An indescribable mix of anger and heartache surged within her, and she raised her hand, delivering two sharp slaps.
The lifeless young man, struck by the two slaps, instantly opened his eyes.
His gaze held surprise and grievance.
“You… you hit me?”
Qing Luan breathed a sigh of relief. At least she had managed to wake him up. Otherwise, on this chilly autumn night, if he had closed his eyes, he might never have opened them again.
Two wealthy boys who had never even left Jingcheng had traveled thousands of miles, enduring hunger and hardship, only to appear in Yunxi… Qing Luan felt as if fate was hinting at something.
Could it be that Qi Zheng’s spirit in heaven hoped she would take care of his sons?
But then she thought again—when Qi Zheng was alive, he hadn’t cared much for these two little ones, let alone after his death.
It was because she owed Qi Zheng a debt of gratitude and felt guilty that she felt compassion for these two children.
Qing Luan crouched down and asked Qi Zhaoye, “Can you still move? Come on, I’ll carry you on my back.”
The boy bit his lower lip, pressed his palms against the ground, and tried to stand up, but instantly lost his balance, nearly falling face-first onto the ground. Luckily, Qing Luan reacted quickly and caught him.
Seeing his pale and sallow complexion, as if he might faint at any moment, Qing Luan couldn’t bear it. She bent down, scooped him up by the knees with one hand and wrapped her other arm around his slender back, lifting him steadily in a child-carrying position and settling him on her shoulder.
Just as she was about to stand up, the boy in her arms curled up awkwardly, his face flushed with embarrassment.
“I don’t need you to carry me. I can walk on my own.”
Qi Zhaoye was so ashamed he wished he could find a crack in the ground to crawl into, his voice rising as he spoke.
He dared not recall how similar the embrace he had fantasized about in his dreams was to the warmth he felt now. All he could do was breathe in the fresh scent of soap lingering around her, noticing how clean her clothes were and how fair her skin was, while he himself was covered in filth, grimy and disheveled.
Having not bathed for a long time, he must have smelled terrible.
His last shred of self-respect made him struggle, only to see Qing Luan purse her lips impatiently and give his bottom a light slap. It wasn’t hard, but it made his whole body stiffen.
“Enough, stop being stubborn. If you behave, we’ll both save some effort,” Qing Luan said as she stood up, carrying him home.
Qi Zhaoye gritted his teeth, his face flushing with discomfort. More humiliating than losing all dignity in front of his father’s concubine was the fact that she had scolded him like a misbehaving child.
No one had ever spanked him in his entire life!
The strange pride of youth surged within him, but it had no effect on the “stubborn” Qing Luan.
Holding him securely, she turned her head and called for Qi Yuchen to hurry up. The frail little wildcat quickly ran over, clutching her skirt with his small hand as he followed behind her.
Qi Yuchen looked up at his nearly-dead brother being carried in the concubine’s arms, his mind filled only with concern for his brother’s injuries and illness. After walking a few steps while holding Qing Luan’s skirt, he looked down and noticed the small black handprints his muddy hands had left on her beautiful dress.
He blinked, realizing he had done something wrong, and quickly let go.
After a few more steps, Qing Luan looked down at him.
Puzzled, she said, “It’s already dark. If you don’t hold on tight and get lost, I’ll have to go looking for you.”
Hearing this, the boy’s eyes instantly lit up: The concubine said she would look for him if he got lost! She wouldn’t abandon him like others did—she was as good as his brother!
A spark of joy appeared on Qi Yuchen’s face, and he grabbed her skirt again, following closely behind her.
The same words, however, made Qi Zhaoye feel even more frustrated.
Why did she speak so gently to Qi Yuchen, yet scold and spank him, speaking harshly all the while… Even when his father was alive, she had always preferred Qi Yuchen.
If that was the case, wasn’t Qi Yuchen enough? Why did she have to come find him? He might as well have been left alone to die.
Catching a glimpse of the green fabric clutched in his brother’s hand from the corner of his eye, his heart felt heavy. Biting his lower lip, he turned his gaze away, pretending he was already dead, and buried his face in the crook of her shoulder, remaining silent the entire way.
When Qing Luan first decided to help the two brothers, she had worried that her momentary soft-heartedness might lead to great trouble.
Walking all the way home while carrying a half-grown child made her break a light sweat, but the younger one didn’t fuss, and the older one remained obedient and quiet—a stark contrast to the troublesome figures they had been just a few months earlier.
The only bed in the house was in the inner room of the main hall, already laid with the new bedding she had bought that day. The clean cotton quilt had been sun-dried and fluffed with rattan strips. She hadn’t even slept in it herself yet—how could she bear to let these two little dirty monkeys lie on it? So she settled the brothers in the woodshed instead.
She took the worn-out bedding replaced from the old willow-wood bed and made a makeshift bed for the brothers on the haystack in the woodshed, telling them to stay put before heading out.
When she returned, she brought along an elderly physician and had bought some food for the brothers.
Walking into the courtyard, she noticed a flickering light in the kitchen and was startled, fearing the two inexperienced little ones might have set her kitchen on fire.
Panicked, she rushed over and pushed the door open. Inside, a small figure was curled up in front of the stove, his little face flushed red from the firelight. He was holding firewood, feeding it into the stove’s opening, and steam was already rising from the kettle as the water boiled.
“Are you boiling water?” Qing Luan asked him.
Qi Yuchen turned around and nodded with a smile. “Big Brother said it wouldn’t look good if I was idle, so he told me to boil water for Auntie to wash her feet.”
The little thing was so hungry his stomach was pressed against his back, his eyes dazed, yet he still knew to listen to his brother and try to please her. Qing Luan wanted to laugh but also felt a pang of heartache.
“You’ve only been out for a few months, and you already know how to boil water?”
“Grandma Li taught me. Every time Big Brother and Uncle Li and Auntie Li came back from work, their clothes were soaked with sweat. I’d boil bathwater for them—it took two big pots to be enough.”
The boy spoke, grinning foolishly as if reminiscing about some rare, beautiful memory.
Seeing his innocent cuteness, Qing Luan walked over, bent down, and ruffled his hair. “The water’s already hot. In a little while, you and your brother can wash your hands and feet. Here, go eat first.”
She handed him the steamed buns and fried dough twists she had bought from the night market. Qi Yuchen caught the scent of the food, stood up cautiously, dusted off his hands, and took the food with both hands, his mouth almost watering.
“Thank you, Auntie,” he said obediently, then trotted back to the woodshed with the food.
“Big Brother, Auntie bought us food!”
Only then did he notice there was a stranger in the woodshed—an old man with a white beard, sitting cross-legged beside his brother, examining his injuries.
Qi Zhaoye looked toward the door, seeing his brother’s joyful expression, and smiled softly. “Yuchen, you eat first. No need to wait for me.”
The steamed buns were filled with meat—so fragrant!
The fried dough twists were crispy, and paired with hot rice porridge, they’d be soft and soak up the broth—it must be delicious.
Qi Yuchen’s mind was filled with thoughts of food. He swallowed his saliva, his stomach growling, but he still shook his head. “I’m not hungry. I’ll wait to eat with Big Brother.”
Qi Zhaoye felt comforted by his brother’s maturity, unaware of how much fear he had instilled in the younger boy that time he fainted from hunger and rolled down the ridge of the field.
—The young boy had learned that not having food could truly lead to starvation. For the first time, he reflected on his childish demands and had long resolved that, no matter how much or how little food there was, he would always wait to eat with his brother.
Qing Luan boiled more water, brewed a pot of tea, and served it to the brothers and the physician.
“Sir, how are his injuries?”
“This child is truly fortunate to be alive.” The old physician took a sip of hot tea to moisten his throat before continuing, “The bruises and scrapes on his body are relatively minor. If you diligently apply the ointment, they should heal within two months. The more serious issues are the contusion on the back of his head and the prolonged physical depletion. From now on, make sure he eats well and gets enough sleep. I’ll also prescribe a formula—one dose daily—to help disperse the stagnant blood.”
Qing Luan listened attentively, moving a broken plank over for the physician to use as a makeshift writing surface.
As he wrote, the old physician sighed, “It’s a miracle this child has survived until now. If you want him to recover quickly, let him live more comfortably. Why make an injured patient sleep in the woodshed?”
Qing Luan smiled awkwardly and explained, “As you can see, my family isn’t well-off, and we don’t have any extra rooms… I’ll think of something later.”
Seeing her stance, the old physician didn’t press further.
Once the prescription was written, Qing Luan asked him to stay a moment longer. “Could you please examine this child as well?”
Qi Yuchen was called over to the physician.
After a careful examination, the old physician looked somewhat relieved. “He doesn’t have any injuries or illnesses, just too thin from hunger. The older one is the more urgent case. Remember to give him the medicine on time.”
Qing Luan nodded. “Thank you, sir.”
After paying the consultation fee and seeing the old physician off, night had already fallen.
The two little ones were eating in the woodshed. Having run back and forth several times that day, Qing Luan was now so tired she couldn’t help but yawn.
Taking care of children was truly exhausting, she thought. Once they regained their health and fully recovered from their injuries, she would find a good family to adopt them.
She had intended to explain this to them, but as she approached the woodshed and peered through the torn window paper, she saw the two little ones sitting on a tattered quilt, gathered around a small, warm light as they drank water and ate. Cold wind seeped through the cracks in the door and windows, causing the candle flame to flicker, yet they didn’t seem to mind the shabbiness. Instead, their faces were filled with happiness.
Qing Luan’s plans stuck in her throat. She stepped away from the woodshed, her heart feeling unsettled.
Forget it. She would talk to them about adoption slowly, in due time.
Author’s Note: