It was strange—this night passed without nightmares. Chen Jue slept soundly until dawn. When he opened his eyes and saw the bright light filtering through the thick paper window, he was momentarily surprised.
Still drowsy in bed, he stretched his arms and felt remarkably light and relaxed.
So this was how refreshing a good night’s sleep could be. It had been too long.
Chen Jue got up, pushed open the door, and saw the rooster on the tree, its head drooping.
Chen Jue paused. Was it dead?
No wonder he had slept so deeply last night—the rooster hadn’t crowed.
He went over, lifted the rooster by its neck to check, and found it still alive. Pulling it down from the tree, the rooster briefly opened its eyelids before closing them again, its beady eyes rolling slightly.
Chen Jue examined it all over—no wounds.
It didn’t seem to have eaten anything poisonous either… poison…
His gaze shifted to the cuscuta and Yejiaoteng (Night-crossing Vine) drying on the bamboo tray, and he understood. This greedy bird had eaten sleeping pills.
“You even know how to take medicine on your own,” Chen Jue muttered, not knowing what else to say.
He hung it back on the tree branch, letting it wake naturally. Since this rooster was being saved for the New Year, he might as well spare its life for now. Perhaps it could even help him test medicines in the future.
Chen Jue went to the vegetable garden to pick some greens suitable for boiling. With his current cooking skills, he wasn’t ready to attempt stir-frying or other challenging dishes—boiling would do.
Boiled eggs and boiled greens. The egg from the chicken coop was still warm, so he boiled it together with the three pheasant eggs left from yesterday.
Once cooked, he brought them out and placed them on a wooden stump that looked like a dining table. He would wait for them to cool slightly before eating, but the pungent smell of the eggs already assaulted his nose.
This was new. He had eaten boiled eggs before—Director Zhou used to boil eggs for him and Dean Chen every morning. He never disliked eggs, so why did the smell now feel so overpowering?
Even stronger than last night.
Chen Jue couldn’t bear it any longer and rushed to the basin nearby to retch, but nothing came up except water.
Leaning against the wall, his eyes red at the corners, he thought to himself, being pregnant was truly difficult.
The rooster on the tree was awakened by his retching and struggled to fly down.
Finally focusing its gaze on Chen Jue’s vomit and finding nothing, it tilted its head and stared at Chen Jue, its beady eyes filled with suspicion.
Ignoring it, Chen Jue slowly turned back.
This almost supernatural rooster had grown accustomed to freeloading, always waiting for him to vomit.
It really ought to be killed.
With that thought, Chen Jue took a few sips of warm water to settle his stomach, then sat down at the wooden stump. He managed to eat two eggs with some pickled chili peppers from Uncle Liu’s house.
Though pregnant women were advised to eat less pickled food, anything that could be kept down was better than nothing.
After breakfast, Chen Jue shouldered his basket and headed up the mountain again while it was still early.
Today, he took a different route. Dashan was vast enough for him to explore for ten days or even half a month without retracing his steps.
Along the way, he encountered villagers returning from the fields one after another. Yesterday, he had gone up the mountain close to noon and missed these people coming down for meals.
The villagers greeted him, but Chen Jue mostly didn’t recognize them. The original owner had left him with few memories—he hadn’t even remembered the important vegetable plot, let alone these villagers. Still, seeing how warmly they greeted him, Chen Jue simply nodded in response.
He didn’t know how close the original owner had been with these villagers before, but from now on, this was how it would be.
His personality was naturally like this. Even if he forced himself to put on an act, he wouldn’t be able to keep it up for long. So it was better to let things take their course and let them adapt sooner rather than later.
A woman carrying a hoe greeted Chen Jue warmly, “Ger Jue, are you heading up the mountain to gather herbs? You’re so capable!”
Another, slimmer woman also looked him over, “Ger Jue, aren’t you pregnant? Almost three months now, right? Let me tell you, the first three months still require extra care.”
A kind-looking young ger added, “That’s right. You even called a doctor to check on you, so you should rest well.”
Chen Jue paused slightly in his steps. It seemed the whole village knew he was pregnant. Hadn’t it only been four days ago?
Just as he was thinking this, a dark-faced young man who had passed him turned back and said, “I heard you fell into the river and fainted, right? You really need to be careful. It’s not easy for you gers to carry a child.”
A plump woman further ahead turned and shouted at him, “Mind your own business! Are you worried because he fainted?! Is the child in his belly yours?! He has a father to care for him. Don’t go around trying to act like a father when it’s not your place. His father just hasn’t returned yet, it’s not like he’s dead…”
Chen Jue frowned slightly. Those words were quite harsh, especially since Huo Lin really was dead.
Seeing Chen Jue staring at him, the man snorted, turned back, and pulled the dark-faced young man away with large strides.
After the two of them left, the woman with the hoe shook her head and said, “Ger Jue, don’t mind Hehua. She’s just a jealous type. If her husband so much as glances at another ger or woman, she gets all sour.”
That’s quite the jealous streak.
Chen Jue simply nodded and continued walking toward the mountain.
He heard the people behind him commenting again about his lack of manners.
“Why is Ger Jue acting like a mute? He used to greet people before. Why isn’t he saying anything now?”
“This Ger Jue has always been like a wooden puppet. It’s been a year since he married into our village, and I’ve hardly heard him speak a few times. You don’t need to try to get close to him when you see him. What’s the point? He lives so far away from us. There’s no need to bother with him.”
“I just thought, since he’s pregnant and living alone at the foot of the mountain, I’d try to talk to him. Who knew he’d still be like this?”
“He and that Huo Lin really are two of a kind—both cold-faced. That Huo Lin was the same, rarely interacting with us villagers. Look, when his husband fell into the water, aside from the village chief’s wife and his neighbor, Widower Liu, who visited him? No one else stepped foot in their house. Their family just doesn’t get close to people.”
“Alright, enough talking. Let’s hurry home for dinner. I wonder if my wife has finished cooking yet.”
Widower Liu probably referred to Uncle Liu. Chen Jue didn’t know what to make of this title for a moment. It probably wouldn’t be long before he himself was given a similar title—Widower Chen.
Thinking of this term, Chen Jue’s lips twitched slightly.
Forget it, call it whatever you want. It's all said behind his back anyway, so he can't hear it.
Chen Jue turned and stepped onto another mountain path. Today, he felt much more energetic, and his body seemed lighter. Although the child in his belly was nearly three months old, it was still far from showing, so when his spirits lifted, he felt no different than usual.
His harvest for the day was quite good. He had explored most of the front mountain’s side, familiarizing himself with the distribution of medicinal herbs there. He located patches of honeysuckle and chrysanthemums, gathering half a bag of each while the sun wasn’t too harsh. He also collected a small half-basket of angelica and a wild ginseng plant roughly fifteen years old.
Chen Jue sat under a tree, examining the ginseng and brushing the soil off it.
This was pure wild ginseng. Even after fifteen years, it was only as thick as a fingertip, though it had many fibrous roots—a characteristic of wild ginseng, which grows much slower than cultivated varieties.
He was eager to exchange it for silver now, so he couldn’t wait for it to grow any larger.
After cleaning the ginseng, Chen Jue tucked it into the inner pocket of his robe, close to his chest.
Then, leaning against the tree, he ate a little.
He planned to eat smaller, more frequent meals. At noon, he had vomited after eating an egg, and for the first time, he felt a pang of regret over wasting food.
After finishing another egg, he ate a handful of Milk-berries he had picked that day. They were milky white in color and smelled fragrant.
He must have been truly craving it. In the past, he disliked milk the most—he wouldn’t even add it to his coffee.
But now, he found himself drooling over these small berries that exuded a milky aroma.
Chen Jue crunched into one of the berries, savoring the sweet, creamy flavor bursting in his mouth.
He sighed softly, somehow reminded of what Jiang Xinhe had once said. She mentioned that after becoming pregnant, her tastes changed drastically. She used to hate cilantro—couldn’t stand the smell, couldn’t even look at it. Because of this, she often gave her father a hard time, as he loved cilantro but gave it up entirely for her peculiar preferences.
"Now, I can’t eat without cilantro. It seems the child takes after him, and that’s a good thing…"
Jiang Xinhe’s conversations always circled back from the child to his father. There was no trace of complaint in her words, so Chen Jue had nothing to say.
He didn’t have a favorable impression of Huo Jilin, the father of the child in Jiang Xinhe’s belly. No reasonable person would let their wife risk her life to have a child.
Even if the child was crucial to their shared interests.
In a doctor’s eyes, life was paramount.
So, thinking of Huo Jilin was always a mood dampener. Chen Jue took a deep breath and pushed the man from his mind.
After finishing the entire handful of Milk-berries, Chen Jue leaned against the tree, watching a few squirrels frolic happily among the branches.
It was late spring in the fourth month of the lunar calendar—neither too cold nor too hot. The little creatures, just emerging from hibernation, were lively and carefree, not yet burdened with the task of foraging for food…
Chen Jue thought with a hint of envy, his mind growing increasingly hazy. He leaned against the thick tree trunk and closed his eyes.
The afternoon sunlight filtered through the leaves, scattering over him like shards of silver scattered on the ground. But Chen Jue didn’t gather them—he had fallen asleep.
Author’s Note:
None.