For a moment, Pei Mu thought he had gone deaf—or that he was hallucinating.
He had experienced hallucinations before, back when he was wounded on the battlefield, lying feverish in a military tent and muttering nonsense. But now he was standing perfectly fine in his own home—uninjured, not poisoned.
A rare look of astonishment appeared on his face. He stared at Zhong Yizhu in disbelief. “Have you lost your mind?”
Ever since he returned to the village, not a single girl or young man within miles had dared approach him. Wang Ping’an and his husband had worried for him and even tried to find a matchmaker, but as soon as the matchmakers heard his name, they waved their hands in refusal. It wasn’t out of kindness or concern for the other party—it was simply that they feared he might break their legs if he was dissatisfied with the match.
Now that he had spoken, Zhong Yizhu’s nervousness did not lessen in the slightest. He held his breath and said, “I’m not mad. If you’re willing, find someone to come propose. I don’t want a betrothal gift—just protect me and my mother.”
Pei Mu glanced at the injury at the corner of Zhong Yizhu’s mouth and understood something of the situation. His expression returned to its usual indifference as he asked flatly, “What if I’m not willing?”
“If you’re not willing…”
“Then treat it as if I’ve hired you as a guard. On the surface, we marry; in private, I pay you silver. We sign a contract—three years. When the time is up, we part ways, and our lives have nothing to do with each other.”
Zhong Yizhu knew clearly that going to a man on his own to ask for marriage—bypassing his parents—would be considered rebellious and shameless anywhere. But he had been forced into this situation, and he was unwilling to simply accept his fate.
It wasn’t that he hadn’t thought of simply hiring a guard. But they were both unmarried, and living together in the same house without servants or separate courtyards would only invite gossip and damage their reputations.
This was the most secure solution he could think of. Pei Mu would not suffer any loss, and he himself could resolve his immediate crisis and gain time to breathe.
Yet Pei Mu said again, “And if I still refuse?”
Zhong Yizhu froze, staring at the cold-faced man before him.
Pei Mu’s expression didn’t change in the slightest. Though it was phrased as a question, his face had already given the answer.
Zhong Yizhu had considered the possibility of rejection—but he hadn’t expected Pei Mu to refuse so decisively, without even asking about the money.
He was, after all, an unmarried young man. To take such initiative only to be rejected so bluntly—though he knew it was simply the other party’s choice—still shattered his pride completely.
Looking back on his seventeen years of life, he had never felt such humiliation as he did now.
Suppressing his emotions, he spoke in a low, hurried voice, “I was presumptuous. Please forget everything that happened today.”
As soon as he finished speaking, Zhong Yizhu turned and fled toward the mountain.
He had come by circling through the hills to avoid being seen by the villagers, and now he would return the same way. Staring fixedly at the ground, tears streamed down his face like broken beads. His vision blurred, but he didn’t care about the muddy path beneath his feet—he only wanted to leave as quickly as possible.
“Stop.”
The voice in his ear sounded distant, as if muffled by a layer of water. It took him a moment to realize it had truly come from behind him.
He didn’t know what Pei Mu wanted to say and only wanted to keep running—but the next words rooted him to the spot.
“Who hurt you?”
…
When Zhong Yizhu returned to the old house, Sun Yun-niang rushed forward anxiously to meet him.
Zhong Yizhu had heard quite a bit about Pei Mu from Liu Mingtao. Meanwhile, Sun Yun-niang had spent the past days chatting with villagers and knew even more. So when she first heard that Zhong Yizhu wanted to approach Pei Mu, she strongly opposed it.
Even the fortune-teller had said Pei Mu’s fate was harsh—that he brought misfortune to those close to him. And he was known for being good at fighting. What if he had some unspeakable habit of mistreating those in his household? How could her son endure that?
To her, this was like jumping from one pit of poison into another sea of fire.
Even after Zhong Yizhu told her that Pei Mu had been the one to save him when he fell into the water, she still couldn’t rest easy. The Pei family’s situation was complicated—no matter how good Pei Mu might be, it was not a good match.
She thought Zhong Yizhu only wanted Pei Mu because he was strong and suggested other capable men in the village instead. But Zhong Yizhu remained firm.
“If the deaths of elders are blamed on the child, then I must be an ill-fated one too, since my father died. Mother, I don’t know those people you mentioned. I’d rather choose Pei Mu.”
Sun Yun-niang understood—and finally relented.
Normally, it would have been more proper for her to handle such matters, but no elder in the Pei family could control Pei Mu. For her, a stranger, to approach him directly would be strange. Moreover, the situation was delicate and couldn’t be made public, so she let Zhong Yizhu go himself.
She had been waiting anxiously at home. When she saw him return, she hurried forward—only to notice the tear marks on his face.
Her anger flared instantly. “Did that bastard bully you?”
Zhong Yizhu shook his head, about to explain, when a sudden knock sounded at the front gate.
“Is anyone from the Zhong family home? There’s good news!”
Startled, Sun Yun-niang forgot to question him further. She went to answer the door, nudging him and whispering, “Go change your clothes and shoes.”
Zhong Yizhu quickly returned to his room and shut the door. He didn’t know who had come, but it felt like a death sentence hanging over him, making it hard to breathe.
His bedding had all been replaced with fresh ones, wiping away all traces of the nightmare from the previous night. Only the half-finished embroidered sachet remained.
He changed out of his mud-splattered clothes but avoided the bed, sitting instead on a chest by the floor.
Sunlight streamed in through the open window, casting a bright patch on the ground.
He stared blankly at the trees outside for a long time.
Meanwhile, Sun Yun-niang opened the front gate. Outside stood a woman in her forties, a red flower tucked into her hair—the unmistakable attire of a matchmaker.
As soon as she saw Sun Yun-niang, Liu Qiaozui beamed. “You must be Madam Zhong! Such bearing—you’re truly unlike the villagers here. No wonder you raised such an outstanding young man!”
“Oh dear, I’m so excited I forgot to introduce myself—I’m Matchmaker Liu Qiaozui. I’ve come today on behalf of a family to propose marriage. Everyone around here knows I never lie—this is truly a perfect match!”
Despite her enthusiastic praise, Sun Yun-niang felt no joy—only caution. She politely invited her inside and asked which family it was.
When she heard it was Zhang Tieniu from the village—not some rogue from town—she relaxed slightly. But the Zhang family…
She had met Zhang Tieniu’s mother, Zhang Guihua, who had recently been the most eager visitor, subtly probing about their property and remarking that Zhong Yizhu was frail and needed someone to take care of him. Judging by her attitude, if Zhong Yizhu married into that family, he would surely be mistreated.
No matter how anxious she was to arrange a marriage, Sun Yun-niang would never choose such a family. No matter how much Liu Qiaozui praised the match, she politely declined.
Seeing that she truly refused, Liu Qiaozui’s expression stiffened. The Zhang family had promised her extra payment if the match succeeded. With the money slipping away, she dropped her smile, though she held back from causing a scene, thinking there might be future opportunities.
However, Zhang Guihua and Zhang Tieniu could not accept it.
As soon as the matchmaker left, Zhang Guihua began cursing loudly, calling Zhong Yizhu ungrateful and worthless, saying no one else would want him and his sickly mother.
Next door, Wu Cuijuan listened with satisfaction.
Ever since she had been punished and forced to compensate Zhong Yizhu, her husband had ignored her. She dared not provoke trouble anymore, but she took pleasure in seeing Zhong Yizhu suffer. Knowing Zhang Guihua’s vindictive nature, she was sure this wouldn’t end easily.
Sure enough, Zhang Guihua soon went around the village spreading rumors, claiming Sun Yun-niang had agreed to the marriage but then rejected it for a higher bride price.
The villagers, hearing the supposedly generous offer, quickly began criticizing the Zhong family.
Only Liu Fulang, sitting quietly to the side, saw through the lies but said nothing. He even added a few words to fuel the gossip, waiting for Zhong Yizhu’s reputation to fall so he could benefit.
…
In Chuiliu Town, the western district was crowded with noisy, cramped houses.
Lai Lao’er lay on his bed, irritated by the crying of a child outside. When he shouted, the crying only grew louder, and he angrily smashed a bowl.
That morning, he had woken up in a ditch, soaked and with a throbbing pain at the back of his head. His failure only fueled his desire for revenge.
He returned to town, went to a clinic to have an embroidery needle removed from his neck, and bought medicine—losing money in the process.
The more he thought about it, the angrier he became. He swore to teach that young man a lesson next time—but carefully. Someone so attractive could still fetch a good price even after he was done with him…
“Bang—!”
The door was suddenly kicked open, startling him.
Thinking it was an enemy, he cursed—but saw a stranger instead.
The man was taller than him. Though not as bulky, the viciousness in his eyes was terrifying. Lai Lao’er instinctively felt he was dangerous and tried to speak calmly, but the man coldly asked, “Lai Lao’er?” as if confirming his identity.
Before he could respond, the man grabbed him and slammed him to the ground.
…
After finishing his business in the west, Pei Mu bought a roast chicken on his way back. Wang Ping’an and his husband often invited him to meals, and though he couldn’t cook, he would occasionally bring game or food from town.
He returned quickly, the setting sun still hanging by the mountains. Avoiding the village, he headed to Wang Ping’an’s house and saw a young man from the village chief’s family speaking heatedly with Chen Xiaorong.
Upon seeing him, the young man immediately ran off. Pei Mu couldn’t recall his name and didn’t bother thinking about it.
He handed the roast chicken to Chen Xiaorong and turned to leave. At the gate, he hesitated and turned back.
“I heard you mentioning the Zhong family?”