The next day, before dawn had broken, Xie Hanshuo took Ye Yao and set off on the road into the mountains.
Because they were to stay in the mountains for a period of time, the two of them carried quite a lot of supplies: twenty catties of mixed-grain flour, ten catties of japonica rice, and some vegetables grown at home.
Xie Hanshuo had also asked Mother Xie for twenty eggs. Although Mother Xie had pulled a long face, she eventually packed them for him.
Over the years, the household’s expenses had largely relied on the support of Xie Hanshuo’s hunting; if he were truly disheartened, life would likely become difficult. After all, they had not yet divided the household, and Mother Xie assumed that her second son, though cold in appearance, was soft-hearted and, once he had money, would not truly abandon his mother and brother. Thinking this way, she complied with all his requests.
All items were loaded onto the cart. Xie Hanshuo looped the rope over his shoulders and began to drag it forward. Including the cart and the supplies, it weighed at least a hundred catties or more.
After leaving the village, the two stepped onto the winding mountain road, which was rugged and muddy, making it difficult to travel. Ye Yao could not bear to watch this and was about to go to the back of the cart to help push when the man in front suddenly stopped.
“Get on the cart.” Xie Hanshuo looked back, his words concise.
Ye Yao was startled, doubting she had heard correctly: “Me? Sit on the cart?”
“Yes, the road here is not easy to walk; it’s easy to hurt your feet,” Xie Hanshuo’s tone brooked no argument. “I will pull you.”
The journey would take at least two hours, and Xie Hanshuo worried that Ye Yao’s pace would be too slow, which would cause a delay.
Ye Yao did not feign modesty and lightly leaped onto the cart board as told.
Now, with the person and the load, the weight was no less than two hundred catties—heavier than a fat pig. Yet, Xie Hanshuo’s stride remained steady, his breathing even, and as he pulled the heavy cart forward along the mountain road, there was not the slightest hesitation.
Seeing such astonishing strength, Ye Yao was secretly dumbfounded. She thought of the scholarly, frail Xie Moyan from her previous life, who would pant after walking a few extra steps; compared to this, it was like the difference between clouds and mud.
Ye Yao’s gaze couldn’t help but fall on Xie Hanshuo’s broad back and powerful legs, and her heart skipped a beat. She quickly shook her head to dispel those inappropriate associations, though by this point, her cheeks had already quietly stained with a faint flush.
The two had traveled for more than an hour and were already deep in the mountains. The surrounding trees reached the sky, their dense shade blocking the sun, and the surroundings were so quiet that only the sound of footsteps remained.
Xie Hanshuo pressed his fingers to his lips and blew a long whistle. Not long after, a few barks echoed in the distance.
Woof, woof, woof!
The hunting dogs he kept usually went into the mountains ahead to scout the path. Upon hearing their master’s signal, they rushed over. Ye Yao looked up and saw three large dogs, as sturdy as wolves, piercing through the woods. The leader was pitch-black, its eyes gleaming with a ghostly green light; its fur was covered in dust and mud, making it look exceptionally fierce. Following it were one gray and one yellow dog, both burly, exuding the savage aura of the wild.
Ye Yao felt a slight trepidation and couldn’t help but shrink back.
“Don’t be afraid, they are trained and won’t hurt people.” Xie Hanshuo comforted her softly, then pointed to the three dogs: “Da Hei, Xiao Huang, Xiao Hui. Go ahead and lead the way.”
The dogs seemed to understand human nature; upon hearing this, they immediately changed direction and scrambled to the front.
Autumn mist permeated the deep mountains, and all was silent. Led by the hunting dogs, the cart moved for a while longer before slowly stopping.
“We’re here,” Xie Hanshuo said in a deep voice.
Ye Yao got off the cart. Before her eyes stood a high wall, several meters tall, enclosing a small world securely. Although the buildings in the courtyard looked old, the wood was of the highest quality; after more than a dozen years of wind and rain, it still stood firmly without signs of collapse. Xie Hanshuo took out a key to unlock the gate, and the two walked into the courtyard one after the other.
Ye Yao looked up and saw only waist-high weeds everywhere, a mix of yellow and green, growing wantonly; clearly, this place hadn’t been cared for in a long time. She understood. As a rugged man, Xie Hanshuo might not have the patience for the delicate work of sweeping the yard or gardening. It was likely that even if he grew a few rows of vegetables here, he might not have the leisure to water or weed them.
The two moved the rice, flour, and vegetables they had brought into the kitchen. The kitchen was simple: an iron pot and a few earthenware jars containing common seasonings like salt, sauce, and vinegar.
“Do you usually cook for yourself when you’re here?” Ye Yao asked casually while putting things away.
“Rarely,” Xie Hanshuo replied shortly.
He usually gnawed on a couple of cold, hard coarse-grain steamed buns to fill his stomach; he had no time for proper cooking. Occasionally, when he truly had a craving, he would just carelessly boil some vegetables or meat chunks, sprinkle in some salt, and eat once cooked, with no flavor to speak of.
After finishing, Xie Hanshuo picked up a wooden bucket and went out to fetch water.
Ye Yao was left alone in the kitchen to tidy up. Glancing over the slightly simple but orderly space, a sense of security grew in her heart. In her previous life at the Xie house, she could never find peace whenever she studied cooking; Mother Xie and Ye Hanzhu were constantly watching her, wishing they could steal her recipes immediately. Helpless, she could only work while staying on guard, which was exhausting. Now, deep in these mountains with no one to disturb her, she could finally let herself go and do as she pleased.
Thinking of this, the corners of Ye Yao’s mouth curled up involuntarily, and a faint smile rippled in her eyes.
Just then, Xie Hanshuo returned with water to pour into the vat. Seeing her expression, he couldn’t help but be surprised: “What are you laughing at?”
One moment crying, the next moment laughing—a woman’s emotions were truly as unpredictable as the weather in June.
Ye Yao turned her eyes and came up with a smooth-talking response: “You brought me into the mountains, and just the two of us are here, quiet and peaceful—isn’t it wonderful?”
They were newlyweds, and if not for the man in front of her being overly cold and unromantic, the two of them should have been holding hands and whispering sweet nothings.
Unfortunately, Xie Hanshuo clearly lacked that sentiment. Upon hearing this, not only was he unmoved, he let out a cold snort from his throat, his tone tinged with self-mockery: “Life in the mountains is bitter; what’s so good about it?”
“I don’t think it’s bitter; life is lived the same way regardless,” Ye Yao said, not wanting to argue with him, and switched topics: “You must be hungry, right? What do you want to eat? I’ll make it for you.”
“Fry some eggs,” Xie Hanshuo said almost without thought.
Having tasted her cooking last time, the fragrant and smooth taste of that plate of fried eggs had lingered in his memory. Bringing her into the mountains was, indeed, a selfish desire. They had been married only a few days, and he didn’t want to go long without seeing her; he just wanted to keep her under his nose, seeing her every day. Even if she had no feelings for him, he didn’t want her to be too far away. Originally, he had worried that she wouldn’t be willing to come to this deep, remote mountain, but he hadn’t expected that she seemed… quite happy here.
Xie Hanshuo’s gaze was deep, resting calmly on Ye Yao’s busy figure. In his eyes was scrutiny, and even more, an instinctual possessiveness, like a predator looking at its prey. Yet, whenever Ye Yao felt something and looked over, he would quickly shift his gaze, not letting her glimpse a single clue.
Ye Yao was already used to his manner and simply went about her work as usual. She skillfully kneaded the dough and steamed a pot of mixed-grain buns. Although it was coarse flour, she steamed them until they were exceptionally fluffy and fragrant; they were definitely not choking to swallow. Afterward, she heated the pot and oil, stir-fried three golden-yellow eggs, and stewed a pot of fresh soup with the wild vegetables, mountain mushrooms, and a few slices of cured meat they had brought. They hadn’t brought much cured meat; Xie Hanshuo was accustomed to obtaining wild game from the mountains, so he rarely brought meat from outside.
After a hot meal, the fatigue from the day’s travel seemed to dissipate.