Yan Feng'an stared at the bowl of dark, murky medicine for a long while, then forced it down, sip by sip, despite the discomfort.
Seeing the obvious relief on both Wen Xi's and Chen Lanfang's faces, Yan Feng'an couldn't quite tell what he himself was feeling.
After Chen Lanfang left, he shifted toward the inside of the bed and, eyes closed with exhaustion, gently patted the spot beside him.
"Come up and sleep."
Those were the last words he spoke before consciousness slipped away.
Once he sank into his coma, Yan Feng'an could neither speak nor act, and with the threat gone, Wen Xi's fear eased somewhat.
Sleeping on the floor would have let him avoid sharing a bed with Yan Feng'an, but it would also bring plenty of trouble later. After a moment's hesitation, he carried his own bedding and carefully climbed onto the bed.
Yan Feng'an's bed was large and soft, and the covers had been changed just the day before, not yet tainted with the smell of herbs.
Wen Xi had never slept in such a comfortable bed. Lying on it, he didn't even know where to put his hands and feet.
At home, he slept in the woodshed when the weather was hot, and when it was cold, he made do on a makeshift bed cobbled together from stools and planks in Wen Liu's room.
Wen Liu said he stank and had a weird smell, and never allowed him anywhere near his bed.
Wen Xi felt deeply wronged by this. Every night before bed he washed himself thoroughly, and even without hot water he would scrub his face and feet with cold—how could he possibly have a strange odor? At the thought, he raised his arm and sniffed, and only after confirming there was no smell did he finally relax. He quieted his breathing, slept pressed against the edge of the bed, and slowly closed his eyes.
Perhaps the bed was too comfortable, or perhaps it was having another person beside him, but even after closing his eyes, Wen Xi couldn't fall asleep for a long while.
Replaying everything that had happened that day, he found it almost unbelievable.
It was only his second day since marrying into the Yan family, and he hadn't been beaten, hadn't been bullied, had received a red envelope, and had been shown care. Compared to life in the Wen household, it was heaven and earth.
Life like this was simply too good. Even sharing a bed with someone he didn't love, Wen Xi still felt content.
He had no grand wishes. He only silently prayed in his heart, hoping the Guanyin in the temple would bless him with a longer stay in the Yan family.
Perhaps because he had taken his medicine and rested well, by the next day Wen Xi's dizziness had mostly faded.
Everyone in the household had work to do, and being the only idle one left him uneasy. After breakfast, he took it upon himself to handle the task of brewing the medicine.
Li Wan asked him, "Do you know how to use the medicine stove? Do you want me to show you?"
Finally able to be of some use, Wen Xi quickly shook his head. "I know how. No need."
Back home, he had always been the one caring for the sick, so he was very experienced at brewing medicine. The work wasn't tiring, but it demanded attention—the fire in the stove had to be watched at all times.
Wen Xi remembered one time when Li Qiaozhen was sick and he was busy chopping firewood, he briefly forgot about the medicine. By the time he remembered, it had already burned. Li Qiaozhen insisted he had done it on purpose and, even while sick, gave him a beating. From then on, Wen Xi was always extremely careful when brewing medicine.
Li Wan said with a smile, "Then from now on, Third Brother, we'll be counting on you to look after him."
Though it was just a polite remark, it warmed Wen Xi's heart.
Setting aside what the Yan family members truly thought of him, at the very least they all genuinely treated him as a person.
Here, Wen Xi was not a beast of burden, nor an animal to be beaten and cursed at will—this alone was enough to make him grateful.
The medicine the doctor prescribed lasted three days per dose; today it just needed to be reheated. Once the medicine had cooled a little, Wen Xi gulped down his whole bowl like a thirsty ox.
He hadn't reacted at all, but Li Wan's face had already scrunched up. She clicked her tongue. "Doesn't it taste bitter to you?"
Of course the medicine was bitter, but this bit of bitterness really meant nothing to Wen Xi. After all, back in the Wen family, unless he was truly at death's door, the family would never spend money on a doctor for him. To him, being able to drink medicine when sick was already a happy, luxurious thing—how could he complain about the bitterness? He rinsed the bowl clean and replied to Li Wan, "It's fine."
Li Wan said, "You're just like Third Brother in that respect. He's never afraid of the bitterness when taking medicine either."
Then who was the person yesterday who refused his medicine because it was too bitter?
Wen Xi found this strange, but he also felt Li Wan had no reason to lie about such a thing. Could it be that Yan Feng'an had deliberately deceived him?
With this question in mind, when it came time to administer the medicine later, Wen Xi paid special attention to Yan Feng'an's reaction.
"Little mute, why do you keep staring at me?"
Wen Xi had thought his furtive observation had gone unnoticed. Being called out so bluntly by Yan Feng'an left him feeling utterly embarrassed.
Wait—what had Yan Feng'an just called him?
Wen Xi's eyes slowly went wide. He didn't dare argue loudly with Yan Feng'an, but he was too upset to let it go, so he could only timidly push back: "I'm not a mute."
"You won't say a single word to me. If you're not a mute, what are you?"
Calling him ugly and complaining he was illiterate wasn't enough before—now he was calling him a little mute too. How could anyone be so hateful?
Wen Xi felt wronged and hurt, and quietly defended himself: "I've said two sentences to you."
Yan Feng'an said, "Two isn't enough. From now on, you have to say at least twenty sentences to me every day."
Wasn't this just deliberately making things difficult? Wen Xi thought back carefully—in all these years, he hadn't said even twenty sentences to Yan Feng'an in total.
As if puzzled, or perhaps complaining, Wen Xi muttered, "What is there for us to talk about?"
He hated him, and he hated him back.
Yan Feng'an was in somewhat better shape today than yesterday. He tugged at the corner of his mouth and said, "Anything is fine to talk about. Wasn't I terrible to you before? If you'd like, you can even curse me a couple of times."
Wen Xi thought this man's head must really have been damaged in the fall—who ever went looking to be cursed at?
He lowered his head. "I don't know how to curse people."
The person before him was as slight as a willow, always speaking in a small voice with no confidence. When his two round almond eyes accidentally met someone else's, he looked like a startled fawn in the forest, timid and full of fear.
Yan Feng'an shook his head. "So frail and weak. No wonder you're always being bullied."
Those words made no sense at all.
Perhaps because he'd been holding in his grievances all along, or perhaps because the sick Yan Feng'an was in a humbled position and not so arrogant and detestable, Wen Xi mustered the courage to reply: "Just because I'm frail and timid, does that mean I deserve to be bullied by all of you?"
"Of course not." Yan Feng'an chose his words carefully. Watching the tears fall down Wen Xi's face from the hurt, he was silent for a moment before saying, "The things that happened before were my fault. I'm sorry."
Wen Xi hadn't meant to cry, but the emotions came too fast, and the tears were beyond his control.
Without a handkerchief at hand, Yan Feng'an could only use his hand to wipe away the tears at the corners of Wen Xi's eyes. Feeling the cool fingers brush across his cheek, Wen Xi froze for a moment, then sprang to his feet and hurriedly carried the medicine bowl out of the room.
Seeing that he seemed startled, He Jin asked with concern, "So jumpy—what's wrong?"
Wen Xi shook his head and said nothing.
He stayed in the kitchen for quite a while before his heartbeat gradually calmed down.
He truly couldn't figure it out. This man, who once couldn't even spare him a glance without looking disgusted, had not only apologized to him of his own accord just now—why would he also wipe his tears with his hand?
Could it be that because Yan Feng'an was currently unable to move around and needed his care, he was deliberately trying to get on his good side?
Wen Xi couldn't guess what was in Yan Feng'an's mind. He only felt that this man changed from one moment to the next—truly the sign of a brain addled by that fall.
In the days that followed, Yan Feng'an continued treating him with this attitude. Compared to the malicious insults of before, he now seemed more like someone bored of lying in bed, teasing Wen Xi the way one might amuse a child.
Most of the time, Wen Xi still didn't talk to him much, only snapping back a retort or two when pushed too far.
Though their interactions remained awkward, Wen Xi no longer felt quite so much fear and wariness in his heart when facing him.
Wen Xi took his medicine on time every day, and the pain from his injuries slowly healed under the treatment of the herbal decoctions. When he moved, his chest no longer felt as suffocating as before.
External wounds were easy to heal, but a constitution worn down to its foundations was not so easily restored.
It just so happened that a doctor from the Baoning Hall in town came to the countryside for Yan Feng'an's follow-up examination, and Chen Lanfang took the opportunity to ask him to take a look at Wen Xi as well.
When she learned that Wen Xi was merely underdeveloped and weak from years of going hungry, and that with more nourishing food he would have no trouble with fertility, Chen Lanfang was finally completely at ease.
As for Yan Feng'an, the doctor said he was recovering well, and that the family could help him up to walk around a bit when they had time. His food still couldn't be too greasy, but they could add some nourishing accompaniments to his porridge.
Now that caring for Yan Feng'an had fallen entirely to Wen Xi, he quietly committed the doctor's words to memory. When cooking porridge, he added some minced lean meat and greens, salting it only after it was done. Though the ingredients were plain and ordinary, to Yan Feng'an, who had been drinking plain porridge for days on end, this already counted as a rare delicacy. He who usually ate only half a bowl had, these past few days, for once had a hearty appetite and eaten more.
Once a person's appetite improved, the body would recover along with it. Chen Lanfang murmured prayers of thanks to the Bodhisattva, and her opinion of Wen Xi grew more favorable by the day.
On the day of the autumn equinox, the weather was crisp and clear. After lunch, the sun was lovely, warm and bright, and Wen Xi helped Yan Feng'an out to the courtyard to bask in it.
At this time of year, the work in the fields had gradually lessened, and Chen Lanfang led her daughters-in-law to sit with him in the courtyard, chatting while doing some mending.
The autumn sun was not as scorching as in summer; when it fell upon a person, it felt as warm as being covered with a thin quilt.
Yan Feng'an lay on the bamboo chair. The pouring sunlight was like a warm current, flowing from his limbs into his very core, nourishing his spirit.
He stretched out his hand and held it open in the sunlight. In the bright light, the hand was almost pale—the veins prominent on the back, the lines of the palm distinct, and a callus from years of writing still on the middle finger of his right hand.
It was indeed his body.
Feeling his eyes grow warm, Yan Feng'an closed them and let out a deep breath. After three long years, he had finally reclaimed his own body.
Three years ago, a lonely soul from another world—no one knew where it came from—had seized his body while he was weakened by a chill, driving out his own spirit and leaving him to wander the darkness like a restless ghost.
He was wrapped in overwhelming shock and absurdity. If the desire to reclaim his body had not been so fierce, his spirit might long since have scattered without a trace.
Having endured something so bizarre with no one to tell, Yan Feng'an spent these past days recalling everything that had happened, and an unreal feeling would always rise in his heart.
Only now, bathed in sunlight, did he feel that he had truly come back to life.
Wen Xi knew nothing of this. Thinking Yan Feng'an had discovered something interesting, he sat nearby and quietly imitated him, carefully opening his own hands.
Sunlight slipped through his fingers, casting several coin-sized spots of light on the ground. When he clenched his fists, the spots vanished; when he opened his hands again, they reappeared.
It was nothing remarkable, but Wen Xi found it great fun. How had he never noticed before that sunlight could turn into coins?
A soft chuckle came from beside him. His childish antics had been seen perfectly clearly, and Wen Xi's face flushed red in an instant.
He hastily hid his hands behind his back, fidgeting, wanting to say something, but no words would come out. In the end he could only hang his head and stare fixedly at his own toes.
He had been married into the Yan family for about ten days and hadn't done any heavy work, yet his shoes had gone and worn a hole all the same. With the slightest carelessness, his big toe would poke its head out.
The thought that Yan Feng'an's gaze was still on him made the already embarrassed Wen Xi feel even worse. Whether it was finding a crack in the ground to crawl into or a hollow tree to hide in, right now all he wanted was to get far away from Yan Feng'an.
His usually muddle-headed brain turned quickly for once. Wen Xi stood up and hurried over to Chen Lanfang, stammering, "Mother, I want to go… go to the river and catch some fish and shrimp, to give Yan… Yan the Scholar a change of taste."
"What 'Yan the Scholar'? That's your husband. You're a married couple now—you can't be so distant with what you call him." Wen Xi's injuries had mostly healed, and Chen Lanfang no longer kept him confined, but this was his first outing since marrying into the Yan family, and she wasn't quite at ease. "Let Tiezhu and Tao'er go with you."
The two children loved playing by the river more than anything. The moment they heard this, they abandoned their ant-hill hunting and scrambled over each other to grab the fish baskets: "We're going fishing!"
Ignoring her earlier remark, Wen Xi said in a soft, timid voice, "I'll take good care of them."