The martial attendants that Pei Qinghe had assigned to Pei Du reported for duty right after Pei Du finished his lessons at the family school. Both were young men who had just come of age, their muscular builds straining against their winter garments. Standing in the open space of the courtyard, they seemed to radiate white steam—positively brimming with vitality!
"Greetings, Young Master!"
The two knelt in unison, half-prostrating themselves, which startled Pei Du so much he nearly stepped back. But then Ye Jinghe's hand pressed firmly against his lower back, and Pei Du's heart suddenly steadied. He asked:
"Rise. What are your names? Where did you serve before?"
"We are Pei Shiyi / Pei Shier. We previously trained at the martial arts hall. Having received the Patriarch's summons, we have come to serve the Young Master!"
As the two spoke in unison, Pei Du's initially flustered eyes gradually calmed:
"The Pei family martial arts hall?"
"Indeed."
Pei Du pressed his lips together:
"I see. From now on, you'll take your orders from Changfeng."
With that, Pei Du turned and led Ye Jinghe back into the house. Before the dishes were served, he picked up a book to read, but before long, the book was snatched from his hands.
"Young Master, you don't have to read if you don't want to. No one would say anything if you just sat in your own courtyard and stared into space."
Pei Du was silent for a moment, then said gloomily:
"Changfeng, you deceived me. Father doesn't value me at all. Aunt also said my attendants don't follow proper protocol. And the Pei family martial arts hall—I never even knew our household had such a thing. I…"
Pei Du felt as though a wad of wet cotton were stuck in his throat, unable to rise or fall, and his eyes had turned red.
"Then go compete for it, Young Master. Go seize it. You are the legitimate eldest son—by ritual law, the Pei family should one day be yours to inherit. If you become strong and capable enough, the entire Pei family will have to look to you for their survival."
The Pei family's affairs had little background exposition in the original book. Apart from a few words exchanged when Pei Du opened his heart to the female lead, Ye Jinghe knew nothing.
But things had reached this point, and he could vaguely sense Pei Qinghe's neglect of Pei Du, as well as… his separation from Madam Pei.
Mere words of comfort wouldn't work anymore. It was time for a strong dose of medicine!
"Strong and capable enough… is that so? Then what counts as being strong and capable enough?"
"At the very least, Young Master, you should become an official, shouldn't you?"
"Mm! I'll work hard!"
Seeing Pei Du regain his fighting spirit, Ye Jinghe breathed a sigh of relief—but new worries soon followed. The Young Master's ears were far too soft. If he didn't change that, wouldn't anyone be able to manipulate him at will?
He'd transmigrated here, become the Young Master's book boy, had to serve as his psychological counselor as well, and now he had to worry about his future on top of everything.
Even a real father wouldn't do more than this, would he?
And that so-called real father—ha! All he did day after day was cause trouble!
The next morning, Pei Qinghe slipped out of Jianjia Courtyard with great secrecy, just barely missing Yang Wanyue, who had come to have breakfast with Madam Pei.
The moment she saw Madam Pei, Yang Wanyue couldn't help but frown:
"Seriously? I dressed you up so beautifully yesterday, and that man surnamed Pei could sit there without being tempted? Shouldn't his surname be Liu instead?"
Madam Pei looked embarrassed and didn't know how to broach the subject, mumbling vaguely:
"No, no such thing. Wanyue, don't overthink it…"
Yang Wanyue's sharp eyes caught sight of the love bite on Madam Pei's neck. Her gaze sharpened:
"Could it be… he's impotent?"
"Could it be… I'm impotent?"
Pei Qinghe stared anxiously at the household physician, who had been dragged out of bed before he'd even risen. The old man was now wrapped in his robes, taking Pei Qinghe's pulse, and tried to soothe him:
"Please calm yourself, Master."
"How can I calm myself? Easy for you to say—it's not you who's impotent!"
"At my age, being potent would be the real problem, wouldn't it? Though, my wife has always maintained that I'm quite potent indeed."
Pei Qinghe: "…"
As the physician fell silent with a hiss, frowning while pressing his fingers to the pulse point, Pei Qinghe's heart climbed higher and higher.
"Master, your pulse is neither hurried nor slow, neither sunken nor agitated…"
"Speak plainly, old man!"
Pei Qinghe urged impatiently, and the physician stroked his beard:
"Plainly speaking, Master, your pulse is normal. There is nothing unusual about you."
"Then why can't I…"
"That is a question for you, Master. Why is it that you are unwilling to have children with your wife?"
The physician said this slowly, and Pei Qinghe's heart felt as though it had been struck by a heavy hammer. He said in disbelief:
"Because… of myself?"
"The pulse indicates as much. I can only make this inference. If you don't trust me, Master, then…"
"Never mind that. How is this treated?"
Pei Qinghe said dejectedly. Those slender, jade-white hands that ordinarily only held a brush and ground ink were clasped tightly together, blue veins curving and rising beneath his pale skin.
Seeing this, the physician couldn't help but sigh:
"Actually, the pulse just now also revealed that you haven't relieved yourself in many years. No wonder the household has only had one child in all these years. Your pipes are blocked, so naturally they don't work well."
Pei Qinghe's face was expressionless, but in truth his soul had already left his body some time ago:
"Then what am I supposed to do? I have a wife—it's not like I don't. Relieving myself manually would be improper, wouldn't it?"
The household physician shot Pei Qinghe a disdainful look, scanning him from head to toe.
"Then why does the master—"
"Old Zhao!"
Pei Qinghe's temper flared, and the physician quickly scribbled out a prescription:
"Take the medicine according to this prescription. During this time, try more often with your wife. Of course, if the master is afraid of losing face, you may seek others to try with."
Pei Qinghe said nothing, grabbed the prescription, and left. If he was going to lose face, better before his wife than before outsiders.
So when dusk fell, the medicated Pei Qinghe shamelessly made his way to the Jianjia Courtyard. The old woman guarding the gate nearly grinned from ear to ear at the sight of him!
The lady of the house had finally seen the light at the end of the tunnel!
Inside the room, Madam Pei had not dressed elaborately today. She wore a blue jacket patterned with lotus motifs, a pleated skirt embroidered with flowers and butterflies, and her hair was simply coiled at the back of her head, adorned with a single jade hairpin—a sight that was refreshing to behold.
Seeing Pei Qinghe again, Madam Pei was somewhat surprised. She set down her ledger and rose to greet him:
"Why has the master come?"
"Er, well, I've assigned two martial-arts-trained servants to Du'er. The boy is growing up, and I fear the estate will soon be too small to contain him…"
"It's wise to guard against trouble before it arises. But a man should aspire to roam the four corners of the world—the master needn't confine Du'er too tightly. Wenxin, serve tea! Master, would lotus seed tea be to your liking?"
Pei Qinghe, utterly disoriented by a single glance from his wife, hastily agreed. He then used the children as a pretext to ramble on about this and that with Madam Pei.
When his throat went dry from talking, Pei Qinghe casually picked up his teacup and drained it in one gulp. A wave of bitterness flooded his taste buds—bitter enough to parch the throat, bitter enough to make one retch, bitter enough to rob him of speech!
It took a full quarter of an hour for Pei Qinghe to recover from the numbness. He looked at Madam Pei, who was quietly flipping through her ledger, and his eyes reddened:
"My lady, I was wrong. The life you've endured all these years… it must have been far harder than that brief moment of bitterness I just tasted, wasn't it?"
The ledger in Madam Pei's hands slipped and fell to the floor with a thud. The composure she had maintained could no longer hold. Her eyes grew hot and misty, and faint tears welled up. Wenxin quietly slipped out of the room.
Pei Qinghe rose, scooped Madam Pei into his arms, gently kissed away the tears at the corners of her eyes, and walked with steady steps toward the inner chamber.
Layer upon layer of bed curtains hung down, much like the confusion in his heart when he had first learned of the Celestial Fate from his mother's lips. Now, years had passed, and still he could not bring himself to speak of it.
His mother, knowing the depth of his love, had taken Du'er away so that his wife would not one day come to blows with the boy. He knew his wife cherished her son, and she had concealed the matter of the Celestial Fate while neglecting Du'er. Through all of this, only his wife and Du'er had been kept in the dark—and he had no intention of revealing the truth, only hoping to make it up to mother and son in the days to come.
He had fled for years. Now he was tired, weary, and no longer wished to run.
The short journey was filled with a rich inner monologue for Pei Qinghe. When he set Madam Pei down on the couch and was about to lean in, she raised a hand to press against his chest and produced a small porcelain bottle from beneath the pillow, stammering:
"Mas—master, take one of these. They say… they say it works wonders…"
Pei Qinghe laughed—a bitter, incredulous laugh. What kind of man drove his own wife to buy such things?
He, Pei Qinghe, had certainly made something of himself!
"My lady, I don't need medicine to bring you pleasure. Do you believe me?"
Pei Qinghe took Madam Pei's hand and gently kissed her fingertips. The bed curtains fell, and amid the shifting shadows of their figures, sounds that made one's cheeks flush drifted out.
…
The masters of the Pei estate had been in excellent spirits these past few days, and with the new year approaching, their rewards were especially generous.
Ye Jinghe alone received a reward of three to five qian of silver, and on his day off, he received the good news that his uncle had regained consciousness.
Pei Du unhesitatingly gave Ye Jinghe leave to return home to visit his family. Ye Jinghe repeatedly urged the young master not to follow him this time, insisting he would be back soon, before finally leaving the Pei estate.
The gatekeeper at the Pei estate was now extremely strict. When he saw Ye Jinghe coming out, he was on high alert—until he realized it was a rest day, and then he breathed a sigh of relief:
"Changfeng, go early and return early. Don't worry the young masters!"
The gatekeeper gave the reminder. Though he had only met this young master's book attendant twice, the lad had real ability!
Not only had he earned the family head's permission to study at the estate's school, but he had also taken the young master out of the estate without being expelled. His future prospects were certainly bright!
Ye Jinghe smiled and acknowledged the words. When he rode the oxcart back to Little Stone Village, he spotted Ye Yufang standing at the village entrance from afar.
"Sister Fangfang, why are you here?"
"The doctor said he'd sent word that Father had woken up. I figured you'd be coming back soon, so I came to meet you! Let's hurry home—Mother has already prepared the meal!"
Ye Yufang urged him on in a rapid stream of words. Ye Jinghe responded as he walked inside. The moment he stepped through the door, he saw a middle-aged man propped up against the bedding, sitting upright. His cheeks were sallow and withered, his hair dry and lifeless, and the whole of him radiated a sense of deathly stillness. Hearing footsteps, Uncle Ye finally snapped back to attention:
"Jing—Jinghe, you're back?"
"Uncle, are you alright?"
Uncle Ye nodded, and two streams of murky tears immediately rolled down his face:
"You… you shouldn't have saved me! It's all your uncle's fault, making you spend so much silver, dragging you down…"
"The child just came back, why say such things? Jinghe, come, eat first! You must be hungry after the long journey back?"
The Ye family's meal was simple—almost too simple. There were only three bowls of coarse rice mixed with lard, a rare delicacy in the depths of winter.
However, given the Ye family's circumstances, even the lard was likely borrowed. On the tip of each bowl sat a piece of snow-white lard the size of a fingernail, with a small dish of paste set on the table beside them.
Ye Jinghe only learned later that in the Pei household, his lard-mixed rice had been topped with meat paste, while the paste at the Ye family's table was more like sweet bean paste.
As Ye Jinghe stirred the coarse rice, he discovered a large spoonful of lard hidden at the bottom of his bowl. When he looked up, Aunt Ye was sitting in the farthest corner, avoiding his gaze.
Ye Jinghe slowly chewed and swallowed a mouthful of the coarse rice. The rough grains scratched his throat, but he still ate it with relish.
"Since Uncle feels the silver was spent, then wait until you're better and earn it back for me. This silver was lent to me by the young masters—on my own, I'd probably be paying it off until I'm old. But with Uncle around, perhaps it'll be a bit easier."
Thanks to the young masters, he'd become especially skilled at handling people who liked to dwell on such things!