It was somewhat inconvenient to carry a whole set of bedding back to the village, so Song Bo took a carriage for the first time. Since Chuanfu Town and Jinli Village were very close, the ox cart was cheap, costing only two coins.
There were other villagers on the cart heading back to the village, but they all kept their distance from him. Some women with children even pulled their little ones tighter into their arms.
Song Bo did not take them seriously. After all, those terrible things were done by the original host of this body and had nothing to do with him.
Closing his eyes, Song Bo leaned against the cart frame to rest. After a tiring day, he could finally relax for a moment.
The cart moved slowly, and the fresh scent of soil drifted into Song Bo’s nose. Under the rhythmic swaying, his head tilted back against the bedding, and he was comfortably on the verge of falling asleep when a sudden jolt from the cart jolted him awake.
“So sorry, everyone, the wheel is stuck in the mud.” The driver climbed down from the front. He first tried to pull the wheel, but finding that his strength could not budge it at all, he said apologetically, “I might need to trouble the men on the cart to come down and help me pull the wheel together.”
Most healthy men would choose to walk back instead of taking a cart, so there were not many men on board; there were only five including Song Bo.
However, with six men including the driver, pulling the wheel out was possible.
Everyone got off. Song Bo and the other men walked over to the driver. Everyone was anxious to get home and did not want any further delays on the road. In their haste, the five men used their strength, but they only had brute force without cleverness. Instead of coming out, the wheel sank even deeper.
Song Bo observed, looking at the wheel and then at the surroundings.
Seeing Song Bo standing idly by, some women huddled together and began whispering.
“Look at that rascal. Everyone else is working hard, and he is just standing there watching.”
“Exactly. A grown man unwilling to even lend a hand.”
“Looking here and there, who knows what beautiful scenery has caught his eye.”
Their voices were not loud, but the surroundings were quiet, so the words entered Song Bo’s ears clearly, one by one.
Song Bo took a step forward and said, “The mud under your feet is soft. The harder you push, the easier it is to sink.”
The spot where the wheel was stuck appeared to be damp year-round, and the surrounding ground was soaked with water. Stepping on it and applying force not only dispersed the strength but caused them to sink in as well.
Reminded by Song Bo, the men realized their feet had unknowingly sunk into the mud, and it took a great effort just to pull them out.
One of the sturdily built men put his hands on his hips and asked, “Then you tell us, what should we do?”
The position where they were stuck was decent. Several small trees grew nearby. Though the trees were not tall, the branches were of moderate thickness, which was sufficient to be used as levers.
“We will break off a branch. Stand on the dry ground, brace it against the axle, and we can pry the wheel up quickly,” Song Bo said.
As there seemed to be no better way, the men followed Song Bo’s lead. They chose a suitable tree, snapped off a branch, and braced one end against the axle. The six of them pressed down on the other end together. Using the dry ground as a fulcrum, they gritted their teeth and pressed down in unison. The wheel popped out of the mud. They then moved the branch slightly, and the wheel landed steadily, clear of the muddy patch.
“Impressive,” the driver praised, saying that it was thanks to Song Bo that they were able to pull the wheel out.
Those who had been whispering witnessed the whole process and involuntarily fell silent. It turned out Song Bo really was helping. They had judged a gentleman’s heart by the standards of a petty person.
“It was just a small effort,” Song Bo smiled in response. He brushed the dust off his hands, and as he passed those people, he did not even give them a glance, being the first to climb back onto the cart.
The cart moved forward again. After the little interlude, Song Bo was no longer sleepy. He propped his chin on one hand and gazed out the side.
Among the women who had been gossiping, there was a younger one. Looking at Song Bo’s profile, her heart was filled with shame and unease. She was of marriageable age, and her family always used Song Bo as a negative example. Over time, she had believed it, thinking he was a bullying, gambling scumbag. That was why she had joined the older women in their blind talk.
Now that Song Bo had solved the problem of the wheel and had not sought trouble after hearing their gossip, he seemed quite different from the rumors.
The contrast was immediate and sharp. The girl felt guilty but found it hard to lower her face to apologize, so she could only sit on the ox cart in mental agony.
After another fifteen minutes of swaying, the ox cart reached the village entrance. The driver had people from other villages to drop off, so the cart only stopped at the entrance, and everyone had to walk the rest of the way home.
Song Bo shouldered his bedding and held the cart handle to climb down. The young woman followed behind him. For some reason, the old yellow ox pulling the cart kicked its leg and tossed its head, pulling the harness upward. This caused the cart bed to lurch. Caught off guard, the woman lost her balance and nearly fell off. Fortunately, Song Bo was close and caught her with a steadying hand, allowing her to stand safely on the ground.
“Thank you,” the woman lowered her head in a bow.
“You are welcome,” Song Bo replied.
After getting off, everyone went their separate ways.
When Song Bo reached home, the house was pitch black. Jiang Jinxi was not there.
Since Jiang Jinxi was unfamiliar with the area, he would only be at Song Chazai’s house at this time.
Song Bo was not in a hurry to find him. He stepped into the bedroom and lit two candles. A dim yellow light filled the room. It was not bright, but it was enough to see the contents clearly.
Song Bo took the bedding off his shoulder, went to the bed, stripped the tattered quilt away, and spread the new one out. New bedding really was different. Song Bo pressed down on the new quilt with delight, thinking he would not have to suffer from the cold tonight. Joy surged in his heart.
After folding the old tattered quilt to be reused later, Song Bo extinguished the candles in the bedroom.
The lantern he had taken from Song Chazai was still by the door. Jiang Jinxi must have left the house during the day.
Picking up the lantern, the faint candlelight illuminated the path ahead. Song Bo was in a good mood and could not help humming a song as he walked along the village path.
Song Chazai’s house was brightly lit. The courtyard gate was open, but the room door was closed. Song Bo blew out his lantern, leaned it against the gate frame, and walked naturally into the courtyard.
“This is the betrothal gift I plan to take to the bride’s house. What do you think, Little Brother Jiang?”
A conversation drifted from the room. The voice was not unfamiliar to Song Bo. He had heard it just yesterday; it was the voice of Song Shenwen.
“I do not understand these things. You should ask Eldest Aunt,” Jiang Jinxi’s voice sounded somewhat timid compared to Song Shenwen’s voice.
“Let me see,” Song Chazai took over the conversation.
Song Shenwen did not reply to Song Chazai but instead fixated on Jiang Jinxi’s way of addressing her. “You call my eldest sister Eldest Aunt?”
“My husband is Song Bo. If I do not call her Eldest Aunt, what should I call her?”
Hearing Jiang Jinxi’s reply, Song Bo’s hand, which was about to push the door open, paused on the frame.
“What?” Although Song Shenwen’s voice remained regular, Song Bo could hear a hint of urgency in it. “Did Eldest Sister not say you were just a patient here for treatment?”
Song Bo pushed the door open. “What are you all chatting about?”
The three people in the room turned to look at him. Jiang Jinxi stood up from his seat, lightly grabbed Song Bo’s arm, and hid behind him. Compared to Song Shenwen, he was much more willing to stay by Song Bo’s side.
Song Shenwen could not hide his expression. While his face wore a polite mask, the desire in his eyes was almost overflowing, making one feel disgusted and uncomfortable.
“Isn’t your Fifth Uncle getting married? He is preparing the betrothal gifts right now,” Song Chazai answered.
“Is that so?” Song Bo asked back, giving Song Shenwen a cool glance.
Under Song Bo’s gaze, Song Shenwen felt as if he were naked, as if the thoughts hidden in his heart were all seen through. Realizing he felt this way, he took a breath and looked back. He was an elder, so why should he fear a junior who had achieved nothing?
“We cannot help much with the betrothal gifts, so I will take Jinxi home first,” Song Bo said. In any case, he had come specifically to pick up Jiang Jinxi. Helping Song Shenwen or getting on good terms with him was not in his plan.
“Have you eaten dinner?” Song Chazai asked.
Staying here any longer meant Jiang Jinxi would be stared at by Song Shenwen for even longer. Song Bo was unwilling to let Jiang Jinxi be looked at that way, so he replied, “I ate when I got back.”
“Alright then, be careful on the road,” Song Chazai said.
Coming out of the room, Jiang Jinxi stepped out from behind Song Bo and walked side-by-side with him. Having walked this path back and forth many times, he was not actually very afraid. It was just that rats were more likely to appear at night, which was why he wanted to stay close to Song Bo.
As Song Bo carried the lantern, Jiang Jinxi chatted with him intermittently. He was naturally a talkative person, and after a few days of getting along, he had become bold enough to converse with Song Bo.
Halfway there, Song Bo felt it necessary to give Jiang Jinxi a warning. He did not want the plot from the original book to happen, and the best way was to prevent it at the root.
“Remember to stay away from Song Shenwen in the future,” Song Bo said. Song Shenwen was not a good person and did not deserve a respectful title.
Jiang Jinxi did not answer immediately. He paused for a few seconds before a muffled “Mm” came from his closed mouth.
There seemed to be a bit of a mood in that “Mm.” Song Bo did not know what had made Jiang Jinxi unhappy, but he could not ask directly. After all, he still had to maintain his scumbag persona in front of Jiang Jinxi.
Jiang Jinxi was definitely unhappy because he did not say a word for the rest of the way, staying by Song Bo’s side like a silent gourd. This silence made Song Bo feel somewhat awkward.
When they reached home, Song Bo led Jiang Jinxi straight into the bedroom. Not knowing how to coax Jiang Jinxi, he decided to use something else to distract him.
“This is a newly bought bedding set; you had better take good care of it,” Song Bo said. Being a scumbag was awkward; even a perfectly kind sentence had to be processed and sharpened with a bit of a sting before it could be spoken.
Jiang Jinxi’s reaction was flat. Just like on the road, he only responded with an “Mm.”
His first diversion strategy having failed, Song Bo moved to the second. He turned around, back towards Jiang Jinxi, took out the green bamboo money pouch he bought today from his robe, and stuffed a hundred coins into it.
“Take this,” Song Bo said, pinching the drawstring of the pouch between his thumb and forefinger.
Jiang Jinxi was confused but still held out both hands, palms up.
The money pouch landed in his hands, feeling heavy. There was a significant amount of money inside.
Song Bo was a poor man. It had only been a few days. Where did he get so much money?
However, since Jiang Jinxi was still harboring anger in his heart, he did not care where Song Bo’s money came from and only replied with a “Thank you.”