It was dinnertime. As the weather grew warmer, many families in the village liked to set their tables out in the courtyard, and every household was gathered together.
Hearing the commotion, people had already begun poking their heads out over nearby courtyard walls, watching with keen interest.
Zhong Yizhu had never encountered such blunt, vulgar insults before. Nor did he understand where the woman’s hostility toward him came from.
He had been taught since childhood to treat others with kindness—but what had blind tolerance ever brought his family?
Thinking of the whispers behind his back, Zhong Yizhu understood that if he didn’t fight back today, everyone would think he was easy to bully.
What’s more, the woman’s accusations were outright slander, meant to ruin his reputation—malicious to the extreme.
A whistle sounded from somewhere behind him, followed by scattered, ill-intentioned laughter. Someone shouted from afar, clearly enjoying the spectacle:
“Wu Cuijuan, didn’t you go back to your maiden home? Why are you back so soon?”
Wu Cuijuan spat in that direction. “What’s it to you whether I’m back or not?” Then she shot Zhong Yizhu a gloating look. “A little seductress who spends all day luring other people’s men—served you right, didn’t it? Even the Zhong family thinks you’re shameful and won’t take you back. If I were you, I wouldn’t have the face to keep living. Might as well find a rope and hang yourself!”
Hearing this, Zhong Yizhu suddenly understood. A sense of absurdity welled up inside him.
“I’ve never even met you.”
“No thief ever admits they’ve stolen…”
A breeze passed by. It wasn’t cold, yet Zhong Yizhu shivered.
In the dim light, Wu Cuijuan’s sharp, triumphant expression looked almost like a demon’s mask.
Only then did Zhong Yizhu truly understand something his father had once told him—
In the village, people can devour people.
Seeing his disbelief, Wu Cuijuan assumed he couldn’t argue back and was about to heap more accusations on him, but Zhong Yizhu cut her off coldly.
“Even the apprentices hired by our Zhong family shops must be decent-looking and of upright character. Your husband doesn’t even meet our hiring standards—what makes you think I’d be interested in him?”
He didn’t even spare Li Siniu a glance. Looking straight at Wu Cuijuan’s furious face, he added lightly:
“If you have the time to cling to people like a leech and make trouble, you’d be better off visiting a clinic to treat your eyesight.”
Wu Cuijuan prided herself on her sharp tongue, but she was only used to trading insults with fellow villagers. Zhong Yizhu, though plainly dressed, carried himself with an unmistakable refinement that made his words all the more convincing.
For some reason, she suddenly felt her momentum falter. When laughter broke out from nearby courtyards, her anger flared even higher, and she lunged forward to grab him.
“You little wretch—how dare you insult me!”
Zhong Yizhu wasn’t about to stand there and be hit. He dodged aside, debating whether to call for help, when Li Siniu stepped in to stop Wu Cuijuan.
“That’s enough! Stop making a scene!”
Taking advantage of their scuffle, Zhong Yizhu steadied himself, turned down a side path, and hurried toward the Zhong family’s old residence.
“Why are you in such a hurry?”
Before he reached home, he saw Sun Yunniang standing at the courtyard gate, waiting for him. He quickly ran up to her.
“Mother, you’re still unwell—why did you come out?”
She reached out to smooth his disheveled hair. She knew her son well—he couldn’t lie, and whenever he didn’t know how to answer, he would change the subject.
She gently patted his back and didn’t press further.
“It’s fine just standing for a moment. Come inside—I saved you some food. It should still be warm.”
…
After a tasteless meal of coarse grains and stir-fried wild vegetables, Zhong Yizhu felt a pang of regret. He could endure such food, but his mother needed nourishment to recover—how could this be enough?
…
Later, in the east room, he placed a small box in front of Sun Yunniang. Inside were scattered pieces of silver and a few pieces of jewelry—worth about thirty taels in total.
“Mother, you should keep this.”
She sighed. “Silly child—if you give it all to me, what will you use?”
Zhong Yizhu lowered his gaze. “I’ll find a way to earn money.”
…
But Sun Yunniang shook her head and retrieved a small bundle from beneath her pillow. Inside were two silver ingots and several pieces of jewelry from her dowry.
“I have money. Keep yours.”
As Zhong Yizhu was about to argue, she opened a hollow silver bracelet—and to his astonishment, pulled out a banknote worth three hundred taels.
…
“Do you think your father already knew this day would come?” she said softly, tears in her eyes. “Even in death, he still found a way to protect us.”
…
That night, Sun Yunniang lay awake, worry etched between her brows.
Her son was simple-hearted—he only wanted to stay by her side. But he would soon turn eighteen, long past the age to marry.
If only she could find him a good husband…
Yet with no support and no standing, this money must never be revealed.
The next morning brought rare clear weather.
Zhong Yizhu followed Zhao Auntie’s example and aired out the new bedding in the courtyard. The house lacked everything—he wanted to go into town to buy supplies, but his mother insisted he wait until she recovered so they could go together.
Instead, he exchanged some coins with Zhao Auntie for necessities.
After he left, Zhao Auntie’s daughter-in-law hesitated. “Mother… is it really right to charge him so much?”
Zhao Auntie chuckled shrewdly. “What do you know? These city-bred boys who don’t even recognize basic crops always spend freely. Didn’t you see him pay without blinking?”
…
At the riverside, Zhong Yizhu arrived early. No one else was there yet.
He stared at the shimmering water for a while before crouching down, trying to figure out how to wash clothes.
He had never done such work before—but now that they lived in the village, he had to learn.
After some fumbling, he dumped all the soap pods into the basin, squeezing them until foam finally appeared.
By the time his hands were sore, he stopped, unsure if the clothes were even clean.
…
On the opposite bank, Pei Mu watched the entire scene in silence.
After a moment, he lifted his basket of shrimp and crabs out of the water.
Even if the current didn’t flow across, it was better not to use water someone so clumsy had touched.
…
Pei Mu had just come down from the mountains after several days, his hunt plentiful. Avoiding the village, he crossed the river and took a side route toward the county to sell his game.
As he walked, calculating his earnings, a sudden scream sounded in the distance.
He frowned, uninterested in trouble, and kept walking—until a faint cry for help reached his ears, growing closer.