Pei Mu pushed open the main room door. Fortunately, what he saw outside was far better than he had imagined—no thick smoke, no fire.
He let out a breath of relief and walked to the kitchen doorway, where he saw Zhong Yizhu clumsily transferring the flatbreads he had just cooked from the pan onto a plate—well, “flatbreads,” if they could be called that. They were yellow, green, and black, misshapen beyond recognition; staring at them too long made one feel like they might get poisoned.
As for the source of the burnt smell—his gaze landed on the black lump in the bowl beside Zhong Yizhu. That was likely the culprit.
Noticing the sunlight at the door being blocked, Zhong Yizhu looked up, still a bit awkward. “You’re awake.”
How could I not be… Pei Mu swallowed the words and instead asked, “What are you making?”
Zhong Yizhu glanced at the food he had spent half the morning preparing. It looked nothing like what his mother used to make.
He pressed his lips together and answered honestly, “Cornmeal vegetable meat cakes. My mother made them before. You said you were going up the mountain today, so I thought I’d make some for you to take along.”
This time it was Pei Mu who fell silent.
Seeing his reaction, Zhong Yizhu thought he disliked it. Looking at the disastrous result himself, he felt he wasn’t entirely unjustly judged. He quietly added, “I’ll eat the failed ones myself. I won’t waste them.”
Pei Mu walked over, took out a cloth sack from the cabinet where he kept coarse grains, and poured the cakes into it. At the end, he even added the black lump.
“Ah, that one is mine—” Zhong Yizhu started to protest, but the small kitchen left him little room to move, and Pei Mu cut him off.
“Thanks.”
“No… no need to thank me.”
Standing close, Pei Mu suddenly turned his head and smiled. Zhong Yizhu froze, confused.
It was the first time he had seen Pei Mu smile. His brows softened, the harshness in his features melting away. He looked no different from the spirited young men Zhong Yizhu had seen before—if anything, even more handsome.
“Why are you laughing?” Zhong Yizhu asked, ears heating, lowering his head to check his clothes, unsure what was wrong.
Pei Mu looked at his soot-blackened ears and could almost picture how he had been flipping cakes while nervously touching his ears, ending up like this.
He stifled his laughter but, mischievously, didn’t tell him why.
Zhong Yizhu went about his tasks with no idea, his blackened ears on full display. After the morning’s interaction, the awkwardness between them eased noticeably.
Pei Mu packed his things in the main room while Zhong Yizhu reheated yesterday’s leftovers for breakfast. After they ate, Pei Mu slung his bow and arrows over his shoulder and headed into the mountains.
Having watched “a cat with black ears” all morning, Pei Mu felt the irritation from waking up early and not getting enough sleep completely vanish. Before leaving, he reminded Zhong Yizhu to look in a mirror if he went out.
Zhong Yizhu: …
His mother had indeed included a mirror in his dowry. He ran inside, found it, and when he saw his reflection, he froze.
He had always valued cleanliness. Even if he didn’t dress up much, he knew he was good-looking. Yet he had just been wandering around in front of Pei Mu looking like that.
Thinking back to Pei Mu’s earlier smile, he finally realized he had been teased.
He brooded for a moment, wondering if Pei Mu had mocked him because the cakes were bad. But after wiping his ears clean, he decided Pei Mu probably wasn’t that petty—after all, when he thought Zhong Yizhu was asking for fruit before, he had given it without hesitation.
…
The yard was quiet, far from the village. Birds chirped on branches and rooftops.
Zhong Yizhu walked around, noting that although Pei Mu lived alone, the house was well-kept. Aside from some animal pelts, there wasn’t much clutter.
He didn’t touch Pei Mu’s belongings, only swept and cleaned. It didn’t take long.
Feeling drowsy under the sun, he went back inside and sorted through his dowry.
His treasured spices had come with him, along with two books on incense and the scraps of cloth and embroidery threads he had bought before.
After the harvest, the Wu family had returned their farmland. Unexpected, but a good outcome.
They now had twenty mu of land—ten for him, ten for his mother. Since his mother couldn’t manage her share, he arranged for tenants, lowering rent to make things fairer.
He didn’t want to squeeze the poor farmers—he knew how hard their lives were.
As for his own ten mu, he planned to ask Pei Mu whether he wanted to farm it themselves.
…
Meanwhile, in the mountains, Pei Mu was roasting the cakes.
Normally, he wasn’t picky—cold cakes and water were enough. But today was… special.
The cakes Zhong Yizhu made were as hard as stones when cold—good for throwing at rabbits, perhaps.
After struggling through a bite, he gave up and lit a fire.
Heated, they were more edible—but still tasted… strange. Vegetables, meat, flour—yet somehow like pig feed.
After finishing the last burnt cake, he stamped out the fire.
Strangely, even after eating something worse than his own cooking on his wedding’s first day, his mood wasn’t bad.
…
By the time he returned home at sunset, Zhong Yizhu was sitting at the doorway, holding a book in a daze.
“You’re back,” Zhong Yizhu said, standing to greet him.
Pei Mu wasn’t used to being welcomed like that. “The basket is heavy. I’ll carry it.”
Inside, he took out a live pheasant, a rabbit, and two dead rabbits.
“Sell them?” Zhong Yizhu asked.
“No. The live ones are for your return visit tomorrow. One rabbit for Ping’an, one for us.”
Zhong Yizhu’s eyes lit up. “Really?”
“Mm. Take them to the backyard, put them in the cage, give them water.”
“Got it!”
…
That night, Zhong Yizhu went to bed early, already looking forward to seeing his mother the next day.
Meanwhile, Pei Mu finished handling the game and washed up.
Living alone, he was used to bathing frequently. After rinsing off, he casually carried his clothes back into the bedroom—forgetting entirely that he was no longer alone.
By the time he realized, it was too late.
The door opened.
Zhong Yizhu turned his head to speak—and froze.
A completely naked man stood before him.
His beautiful peach blossom eyes widened, his scream stuck in his throat.
Their gazes met.
Pei Mu felt his vision go dark.
Was it too late to knock him unconscious now?