At the end of summer, the sun was still scorching.
Even with a fan in hand, Zhong Youtong felt unbearably hot and irritable. She suddenly lifted the carriage curtain and snapped, “How much longer until we arrive?”
Wang Shun, sitting at the front of the carriage, had his face flushed red from the sun, yet he immediately put on a fawning smile.
“Almost there, Fourth Miss. Just past that bend ahead and we’ll arrive. Please bear with it a little longer—once we reach the residence, it’ll be cool.”
Zhong Youtong lowered the curtain and glanced at her elder brother beside her, who was also flushed from the heat. She couldn’t help complaining again:
“Father and Mother are really too much—insisting we come all this way to suffer. Second Uncle has been gone for two months already, and all the old staff at the incense shop have been replaced by our own people. Who are we putting on this show for?”
Zhong Yourong wiped his sweat. Being heavyset, he feared the heat even more than she did. Already irritated, her complaints only made him more annoyed.
Unlike before, he had no patience to coax her. He threw down his handkerchief irritably.
“You think I wanted to come? Sure, we’ve taken over the incense shop completely, but Second Uncle was the former head of the family business. If no one from our branch comes to pay respects after his death, what will all those families we’ve dealt with think of us? ‘Putting on a show’? Can you use your brain for once?”
Zhong Youtong, the only daughter in the family, had always been doted on—protected by her parents and indulged by her brothers. She had never been scolded like this before. Startled, her lips trembled, and she burst into tears.
After venting his frustration, Zhong Yourong felt much better. Honestly, if not for his grandmother and father persuading him, he wouldn’t have come to this remote countryside at all.
Normally, he had little to worry about and was gentle with his sweet-tongued younger sister. But now, feeling uncomfortable himself, he had no mood to care about her feelings. Hearing her cry, he said impatiently:
“Alright, I shouldn’t have yelled at you. Stop crying. Didn’t Wang Shun say we’re almost there? Don’t you hate Zhong Yizhu the most? Uncle said he had no way out and ended up marrying some ill-fated hunter. Don’t you want to see just how miserable he is now?”
Zhong Youtong’s crying abruptly stopped. Sure enough, she forgot all about being upset.
The third branch of the Zhong family had four children. The eldest, Zhong Yourong, was twenty-two. The second child, Zhong Youzhi, a younger ge’er, had been married for three years and thus didn’t return this time. Zhong Youtong, seventeen, was one year younger than Zhong Yizhu and ranked fourth. The youngest, Zhong Youyao, was only seven and stayed behind.
Because Zhong Youtong was close in age to Zhong Yizhu, she had competed with him in everything since childhood. Whatever Zhong Yizhu had, she wanted; whatever he didn’t have, she wanted even more. With their grandmother’s favor, she had rarely failed to get her way.
But when they both reached marriageable age, things slipped out of her control.
Nearly every family that came to propose marriage to the Zhong family came for Zhong Yizhu. Only after he rejected them would they turn to inquire about her. She cried and made a fuss several times, but it was useless—even their grandmother couldn’t dictate the groom’s choice.
From then on, she regarded Zhong Yizhu as a thorn in her side.
Later, when the Zhong family suffered misfortune and Zhong Yizhu lost his backing—sent away like an object—no one was happier than her.
Hearing from outside that they were about to enter the village, Zhong Youtong quickly wiped her tears and touched up her face with powder.
That’s right—she was still the noble young lady of the Zhong family, while Zhong Yizhu had become nothing more than a rural farmer. She had heard he was even scrambling desperately to reclaim thirty mu of village farmland—truly driven mad by poverty.
Before, she could only choose among the men he rejected. Now, he could only marry a crude hunter, while she herself was already engaged to the Second Young Master of the Liu family in the prefectural city.
Their statuses were now worlds apart.
If Zhong Yizhu saw her, who knew how jealous he would be?
At the thought, Zhong Youtong almost couldn’t wait.
It was the season for sowing and transplanting rice. The fields of Liushan Village were full of people bent over planting seedlings. So when the outline of a carriage appeared on the village road, it immediately drew attention.
When they realized there wasn’t just one carriage, but three, nearly everyone straightened up to look.
As the carriages approached, raising clouds of dust, they slowed down. Someone recognized Wang Shun—the Zhong family servant who had come before—and murmurs spread.
Some guessed the Zhong family had sent supplies for Sun Yunniang and her son. After all, no matter the conflict, they were still family. Others speculated they had come to pay respects to Second Master Zhong. Though the forty-nine-day mourning had passed and the hundred-day mark had not yet arrived, the Ghost Festival in the seventh month was approaching, so an early visit made sense.
Chen Xiaorong, holding rice seedlings, forgot about planting and watched anxiously as the three carriages entered the village.
He had a bad feeling—especially after hearing someone mockingly suggest that perhaps the Zhong family had come to take Sun Yunniang and her son back, and since Zhong Yizhu was already married, that ill-fated hunter Pei Mu might be dragged along too.
Chen Xiaorong knew the comment was meant to provoke him, so he ignored it. But what truly worried him was something else.
He didn’t understand the rules of wealthy households, but he knew sending a pampered ge’er back to the countryside was a serious matter. Villagers said Zhong Yizhu had been punished for wrongdoing, but after spending time with him, Chen Xiaorong didn’t believe those baseless rumors.
If the Zhong family had come, it likely wasn’t good news.
He shoved the seedlings into Wang Ping’an’s hands and hurried toward the field ridge.
Pei Mu had finally found someone he cared for—they had to help look after him.
When Zhong Yizhu received Chen Xiaorong’s warning and rushed back to the Zhong family’s old house, Zhong Youtong was already directing servants to clear out his bedroom—throwing away his belongings so she could move in.
Sun Yunniang stood in their way, refusing to let them.
Zhong Youtong crossed her arms, dressed in bright silk robes that sharply contrasted with Sun Yunniang’s plain clothing. Raising her chin, she smiled maliciously.
“Second Aunt has only been here two months, yet her standards have dropped so low? Treating this trash like treasure. Don’t worry—just name a price, and I’ll compensate you.”
With a glance, she signaled Wang Shun, who stepped forward with others to push Sun Yunniang aside and throw out Zhong Yizhu’s belongings.
“Stop!”
Zhong Yizhu rushed forward, shielding his mother behind him. He glared fiercely at Wang Shun.
“You ungrateful dog! My father should never have saved you.”
Then he turned coldly to Zhong Youtong.
“Do you have any upbringing at all? No matter what, my mother is still your elder. Is this how you treat your elders?”
Zhong Youtong looked him over and burst into laughter, barely covering her mouth.
“Oh my, what authority. I was wondering who it was—it’s Third Brother. I almost didn’t recognize you. I thought you were some poor relative.”
Seeing his expression unchanged, she continued:
“I heard you married a cursed hunter who brings misfortune to all around him? You’re already married—what right do you have to interfere in Zhong family matters? I’m afraid your belongings might bring me bad luck. After all, I’m marrying Second Young Master Liu later this year. If something goes wrong, can you take responsibility?”
She waved her hand dramatically.
“Wang Shun, throw the box out. Farther—don’t let it offend me.”
“How dare you!” Even Sun Yunniang, usually gentle, snapped in anger and stood firm.
Zhong Yizhu knew he couldn’t win in a physical struggle. Instead, he suddenly shoved Zhong Youtong hard.
Amid her shriek, he said coldly:
“If you don’t make him stop, I’ll call everyone in the village to come see how you disrespect your elders. There are nearly three hundred people here—if even one has ties to the Liu family, what do you think will happen to your precious reputation?”
Then he raised his voice:
“Aunt Zhao—!”
Zhong Youtong panicked instantly. “Shut up!”
“Enough. Stop this.”
Zhong Yourong finally stepped out, scolding the servants perfunctorily before changing the subject.
“It’s getting late. Let’s go pay respects at Second Uncle’s grave first. We’ve brought plenty of offerings.”
At the mention of this, Zhong Yizhu fell silent, turning his face away.
Yourong shot Youtong a warning glance and ordered the servants to prepare for the trip up the mountain.
Zhong Yizhu’s belongings were returned to his room. Youtong stopped insisting on taking it, though she glared at him resentfully.
Ignoring her, Zhong Yizhu supported his mother and walked out.
Though only two siblings had come, they brought three carriages—two filled entirely with offerings.
Soon, word spread through Liushan Village: the Zhong family had arrived with lavish gifts.
People said the parents couldn’t come due to illness, so they sent their eldest son and daughter instead. Despite the long journey, they had hurried up the mountain to pay respects—clearly sincere.
Villagers praised them endlessly—calling Zhong Yourong promising and accomplished, and Zhong Youtong graceful and filial.
Some even belittled Zhong Yizhu to elevate them, claiming that if not for his “mistake,” such filial siblings would have returned earlier, and Second Master Zhong wouldn’t have died without a proper heir to perform rites.
After a long day, Chen Xiaorong returned home fuming.
“When do you think Pei Mu will be back?” he asked anxiously.
Wang Ping’an was worried too—but for a different reason.
With Pei Mu’s temper, if he returned and saw this situation… it was hard to say whether that would be good or bad.
Meanwhile, deep in the mountains, Pei Mu tightened the rope, firmly trapping a stag in his snare.
The deer struggled violently, but the knot only tightened the more it fought, until it finally collapsed from exhaustion.
After securing it, Pei Mu tied the rope to a tree by the stream, filled his bamboo tube with water, and prepared to return to his temporary camp before dark.
Counting the days, it had only been three since he entered the mountains. Yet for some reason, time felt unusually slow.
Normally, he would stay for eight or nine days without feeling this way.
With a live stag already caught, there was no need to continue hunting much longer. This alone would fetch a good price.
He might as well go down the mountain tomorrow.
Closing his eyes, a pair of smiling peach-blossom eyes flashed in his mind.
…Maybe he’d catch two rabbits first.
Then go back.