After noon the next day, the sun blazed fiercely overhead.
The leaves hung limp, wilted by the heat. Even the village dogs had found shady spots, lying there with their tongues out, panting lazily, unwilling to move.
The whole village was quiet—most people were taking their midday rest.
Jiang Liao carried an elm-wood crutch in one hand and tucked a small cloth bundle under his arm, the old medicinal plaster inside. He strolled toward the Chen family’s courtyard.
He had deliberately changed into a half-worn but clean coarse-cloth shirt. His face showed little expression, but beneath the harsh sunlight, his narrowed eyes held a sharp, intimidating edge.
The Chen family’s courtyard gate was left ajar.
Jiang Liao didn’t bother knocking. He pushed it open with his foot and strode straight in.
At the entrance to the main hall, Zhou Shi sat on a small stool, picking green beans.
When she looked up and saw Jiang Liao’s tall, solid figure blocking the doorway, she flinched, dropping a few beans to the ground.
“J-Jiang Liao? W-what are you doing here?”
She hurriedly stood up, her voice a little unsteady.
Jiang Liao didn’t have the best reputation in the surrounding villages. Aside from being rumored to bring misfortune to his wife, it was mostly his fierce aura and aloof nature that made people wary of him.
He walked inside, his gaze sweeping the room.
He didn’t see her.
“My father sent me,” he said, lifting the things in his hands. “He heard your daughter-in-law twisted her ankle up the mountain yesterday. He’s still got some medicinal plaster left from when he broke his leg a couple years ago, and this crutch too. Just sitting around gathering dust—so he told me to bring them over, for emergencies.”
At that, Zhou Shi’s eyes flickered, and a smile quickly spread across her face.
“Oh my, how could we trouble your father like this… such kindness, thinking of us. Suier just had a small mishap, nothing serious. She’ll be fine after a couple of days’ rest…”
Though she spoke politely, her eyes kept drifting toward the items in Jiang Liao’s hands.
A free benefit delivered to the door—why not take it?
Jiang Liao raised a brow and stepped closer, his tone sharpening.
“Nothing serious? My father said her ankle’s swollen like risen dough. And you call that nothing?”
Zhou Shi’s smile stiffened, leaving her unable to respond.
Just then, the curtain to the west room was lifted, and Chen Wenqi walked out.
He had clearly heard the commotion. His face showed displeasure at first, but upon seeing Jiang Liao, it shifted into a scholar’s restrained composure.
“So it’s Brother Jiang.”
He stepped into the hall and straightened his somewhat thin back deliberately.
“To what do we owe the honor of your visit?”
Jiang Liao glanced at him sideways, his lips curling into a faint, ambiguous smile.
“No great reason. My father heard Scholar Chen’s wife injured her foot, so he sent over some unused things.”
He emphasized the words “Scholar Chen” just slightly—less respectful than it sounded.
Chen Wenqi’s expression stiffened. He cleared his throat, maintaining his posture.
“I see. Please thank your father on my behalf. My wife’s injury is minor, and we can manage at home. These—”
Before he could finish, Jiang Liao cut him off coldly.
“My father’s been through it. Injuries like this aren’t something you tough out. This plaster helps with blood circulation and swelling, and the crutch will keep her from suffering more. I’ve delivered them—whether you use them or not is up to you.”
The bluntness made Chen Wenqi’s face flush, then pale.
He wanted to scold this rude villager, but looking at Jiang Liao’s solid build and expressionless face, the words stuck in his throat.
Seeing her son at a loss, Zhou Shi quickly stepped in.
“Use them, of course we’ll use them! Such kindness from your father—we couldn’t refuse. Wenqi, hurry and thank Brother Jiang for making the trip!”
She moved forward, reaching to take the items.
Just then, the door to the inner room creaked open slightly.
Lin Suier leaned against the doorframe, standing on one foot, timidly revealing her face.
Jiang Liao’s gaze locked onto her like a hook.
She wore a faded blouse today, cinched tightly at the waist, outlining a startlingly slender figure.
The neckline was higher than yesterday’s, but because she leaned forward, it loosened slightly, revealing a glimpse of her pale neck and faint collarbones.
Her skirt had been tied up at the hem for applying medicine.
That exposed calf—
Smooth.
Slender.
He had held it in his hand before…
Jiang Liao felt his throat tighten. He swallowed hard, his Adam’s apple bobbing sharply.
All the restless, forbidden thoughts from the night before surged back to life.
That narrow waist trembling beneath his rough hand…
That neck arching under his touch…
That delicate face, tearful beneath him…
Calling him in that soft, clinging voice—
“Brother Jiang…”
A surge of heat rushed through him, leaving his mouth dry.
Jiang Liao stiffened his legs, cursing inwardly.
He forced his gaze away from her neckline, dropping it to her injured foot.
But the sight of the bruised swelling only stirred his emotions further.
“Why are you dawdling? Come take it,” he said hoarsely, striding forward.
Startled by his imposing presence, Lin Suier shrank back, nearly losing her balance.
He was already in front of her.
His presence pressed in on her, making her dizzy, her heart pounding wildly, her cheeks burning uncontrollably.
Jiang Liao stuffed the crutch into her arms.
The motion was rough—and his hand accidentally brushed against her chest.
Lin Suier trembled as if burned, her face flushing instantly crimson. Flustered, she clutched the crutch, lowering her head, too embarrassed to look up.
Jiang Liao’s breathing hitched.
That brief, soft contact—clear even through the thin fabric—made the heat in his body flare again.
He could almost imagine what lay beneath…
Damn it.
He clenched his jaw, the muscles in his face tightening, veins faintly throbbing at his temples.
It took all his will to suppress the violent impulse rising within him.
“Hold it steady,” he said, voice rougher than before. “Massage the plaster in and use heat. Don’t mess around and leave a lasting injury—you’ll suffer for it later.”
He practically tossed the bundle of plaster at her feet.
Then he turned away abruptly, taking several deep breaths to force down the surging desire.
Fortunately, his broad frame blocked Zhou Shi and Chen Wenqi’s view from behind.
At that moment, a small figure popped out from beside Lin Suier—it was Xiaocao.
Still drowsy, she rubbed her eyes, looked around, then fixed her gaze on Jiang Liao without fear.
“Uncle, who are you?” she asked in a soft, childish voice.
The intimidating aura around Jiang Liao softened for a moment.
He crouched down, trying to appear less fierce.
“I’m Uncle Jiang,” he said, pulling out an oil-paper-wrapped bundle from his chest. Inside was roasted wild chicken. He handed it to her. “Here—take it.”
Xiaocao looked at the bundle, then up at her mother.
Lin Suier nodded hurriedly.
Only then did Xiaocao accept it, smiling happily, revealing her missing front teeth.
“Thank you, Uncle Jiang!”
Jiang Liao reached out and gently brushed her soft cheek with his rough finger.
The touch made something in his chest soften for a fleeting moment—before hardening again.
He stood up and glanced once more at Lin Suier, whose face was still burning red.
“I’m leaving.”
Dropping those two words, Jiang Liao turned and strode out of the courtyard, his back straight and rigid.
Silence fell over the yard.
Zhou Shi patted her chest, letting out a long breath, muttering, “That jinx… finally gone…”
Chen Wenqi’s face was ashen as he glared toward the west room.
Xiaocao happily nibbled on the roasted chicken from the bundle.
The aroma drifted through the air, as if mocking his poverty and incompetence.
A surge of suppressed anger flared up, reddening his eyes.
Chen Wenqi flicked his sleeve sharply. “Utterly absurd! Crude and uncouth—an insult to civility!”
He turned and stormed back into the west room, slamming the door with a loud bang.
Lin Suier remained where she stood, clutching the crutch.
The lingering sensation of that heated, solid touch on her chest left her body numb, her legs weak.
Her face burned, her heart pounding as if it would leap from her throat.
Unable to stay any longer, she hurriedly retreated into the room and shut the door with a bang.