Zhang Chunfen had never imagined Ye Jia’s half-dead husband would look like this. Was he even real? The sunlight caught the young man’s shoulders, making him look like a celestial being descended to earth.
She stared at Zhou Jingchen, completely entranced, until her older brothers—who had come looking for her after she failed to return home—spotted her dazed expression and quickly pulled her away.
This sister of theirs had always been competitive and jealous, unable to stand seeing others succeed. Who did she take after?
“Ten coins.”
Ye Jia didn’t care about their family drama. She had sold the pancakes, and she expected payment.
The Zhang brothers were built like black bears—burly and strong—but their temperaments were dull and awkward. They stood there for a long moment, unable to speak, a stark contrast to their sharp-tongued sisters. Seeing Ye Jia’s cold expression, one of them hurriedly fumbled through his pockets. He stammered as he counted out ten coins and handed them over, his rough, dirt-caked fingernails marking him as a simple farmer.
Zhang Chunfen still seethed with indignation. “What’s the big deal? I only ate two of her pancakes! My sister is her sister-in-law—she bore five children for the Ye family! Don’t I have the right to eat a couple of her pancakes?”
She glared at her brother. “Second Brother, you’re always taking a stranger’s side!”
The brothers, too embarrassed to even look up, could only mutter that they wouldn’t bring her along next time.
“It’s just shredded radish pancakes,” Zhang Chunfen spat, taking a spiteful bite. Before being dragged away, she threw out a final threat: “I’ll set up my own stall tomorrow! Mine will definitely be better than hers!”
“Alright, alright…” The brothers practically dragged her off, their struggle a chaotic mess of shoving and pulling.
***
With the troublemakers gone, the crowd dispersed. It hadn’t been much of a spectacle—just a scoundrel trying to eat without paying. Such incidents were common enough in Libei Town. In these lean times, those truly desperate for food had little room for propriety or shame.
The market was now open. The deer fences had been pulled back, and the vendors, no longer interested in the commotion, hurried to claim their spots.
Wusu and Sile, the two burly men who guarded the market daily, had reserved a space for them near the entrance. As Ye Jia slowly packed up, she asked Zhou Jingchen what he had been discussing with the guards.
Zhou Jingchen didn’t hold back.
“Just chatting,” he said.
He then explained that while the two men looked rough, they were actually soldiers from the garrison. They had been assigned to guard the market after retiring from the front lines years ago, thanks to a connection with the family of a Centurion. The fees collected here were sent directly to the garrison.
Ye Jia paused, her hand hovering over her things. “You only went to deliver some cakes. How did you get them to tell you all that?”
“Just casual conversation,” he replied unbothered. “When you do business on someone else’s turf, it’s best to know who you’re dealing with.”
Ye Jia fell silent.
She had been delivering pancakes to those two for a month and a half, yet she still didn’t even know their names.
As if sensing her thoughts, Zhou Jingchen glanced at her, his gaze piercing through her silent frustration. He found her stubborn streak amusing—she was determined to compete with him, a grown man, over such a trivial matter.
He offered a faint smile and turned to bring the bamboo basket over. With a pair of chopsticks held in his long fingers, he methodically lifted the fried pancakes from the oil and arranged them in the basket.
Ye Jia brooded for a moment longer before taking the lid and covering the stove.
Just as she was about to lift the heavy stove onto the wheelbarrow, a hand pressed down on her arm.
“Stand aside. I’ll do it.”
Ye Jia pursed her lips but took his crutch, stepping back.
Injuries aside, men were naturally stronger. Zhou Jingchen’s leg injury didn’t affect his upper body strength. He effortlessly lifted the stove—a task that usually required both Ye Jia and Madam Yu—and set it firmly onto the wheelbarrow.
Only after securing it did he turn to hoist the large bucket of pancake batter onto the cart. “Let’s go,” he said to Ye Jia.
“…”
He’s taking charge quite comfortably, isn’t he? Ye Jia fell silent for a moment, then decided to enjoy the easy ride.
But Zhou Jingchen’s next words made things crystal clear for Ye Jia.
In truth, Libei Town was held firmly in the garrison’s grasp.
The northwest was a vast, sparsely populated region, unlike the Central Plains where government offices were strictly organized and duties clearly defined. Here, internal administration was a chaotic mess. The entire Beiting Protectorate was controlled by a single Protector-General, a man who had risen through the ranks on military merit alone. He knew how to fight, but not how to govern.
He was little educated and kept a retinue of garrison commanders beneath him—men who were all cut from the same cloth. They held their titles but neglected their duties, relying on their soldiers and past battle honors to extort tributes from the locals.
The northwest was poor, partly due to its geography, but also because of the people in power. Whenever the garrison ran short of silver, grain, or manpower, they simply reached out and took what they needed. With military power in their hands, the common folk dared not refuse.
Ye Jia pondered this as she pushed her wheelbarrow into the tile market beside him.
Whether by luck or some other force, their two hundred and fifty cakes sold out in no time. Strangely, most of the customers today were women from town. They would stroll through the market, circle back to the stall, and linger, chatting with Zhou Jingchen as they picked through the cakes.
Zhou Jingchen maintained a gentle, smiling expression, his voice soft and melodious. Each word he spoke seemed to melt the women’s resolve, leaving them half-weak in the knees. They lingered around the pancake stall, ordering just one or two at a time, and before long, he had sold a considerable amount.
So it all comes down to looks after all!
Ye Jia felt a pang of regret. She wondered if she should take off her ugly headscarf if a pretty face was this effective. But then she shook the thought away. Never mind. Men and women are different; I shouldn’t let a momentary impulse drive me to compete.
Her inner turmoil was written all over her face. Zhou Jingchen noticed and couldn’t help but smirk.
Ye Jia shot him a glare, and his smile vanished instantly.
Rubbing her sore shoulder, she pulled off her arm sleeves and began packing up the stall. Remembering they were out of radishes, she decided to wander through the tile market.
The moment she left, Zhang Chunfen sauntered over. Her brothers’ stall was located in the middle of the market, some distance away. Since radishes weren’t a rare commodity, they hadn’t sold many that morning and were still waiting for customers.
Zhang Chunfen’s slender eyes darted toward Zhou Jingchen’s face, her gaze flickering with a mix of interest and disdain. Zhou Jingchen caught her staring from the corner of his eye but paid her no mind, pretending not to notice.
What else was on Zhang Chunfen’s mind? It was all just the same old grudges she held against Ye Jia.
If she had once looked down on the Zhou family, she now felt a pang of envy. That was human nature—when jealousy took hold, you wanted your rival to suffer every possible misfortune. In her eyes, Ye Jia deserved a life of hardship and misery, married to a man who was both ugly and poor, forever kept beneath her thumb. Who would have thought the rumored “bitter laborer” would actually be a man as handsome as a celestial being? If she had known the Zhou son looked like this, she never would have let Ye Jia get the better of her.
Yes, seeing Zhou Jingchen now, she felt Ye Jia had scored a huge win. It was only thanks to her own matchmaking that Ye Jia had married such a handsome young man. The thought left her seething. What right did Ye Jia have to such incredible luck with men?
Zhang Chunfen approached Zhou Jingchen to strike up a conversation. Without any preamble, she asked, “Why hasn’t Ye Jia been coming to town to see us lately?”
Zhou Jingchen replied casually, “Isn’t she here every day?”
Zhang Chunfen felt a wave of dizziness just looking at his face. She blurted out, “Not to set up a stall in town. She’s here to meet someone. You don’t know, do you? Jia-niang has learned how to charm men. She’s got them practically begging to bring her gifts…”
“Oh?”
Zhang Chunfen was on the verge of spilling Ye Jia’s dirty secrets. But as she opened her mouth, she saw Ye Jia returning with her group. Fearing Ye Jia would cause a scene and humiliate her, Zhang Chunfen turned away, leaving with a lingering, unspoken look.
Zhou Jingchen watched her go, his gaze then sweeping over the foreign merchants in the market. When Ye Jia returned and saw him scanning the crowd, she asked, “What are you looking at?”
“Nothing,” Zhou Jingchen replied, shaking his head. Just then, Old Sun drove up in his ox cart.
Ye Jia studied Zhou Jingchen for a long moment, but seeing nothing unusual, she let it drop.
Old Sun, the man Ye Jia had hired for the cart, quickly helped her load their belongings. A dark-faced young man accompanied him—lean and wiry, dressed in the same ragged clothes, but with an honest face and bright eyes.
Old Sun pulled him forward and introduced him as his youngest son, Sun Yushan, who was slated to work for the Zhou family today.
“Boss lady,” Sun Yushan said, grinning broadly, which only made him look more simple-minded.
Ye Jia sized him up. He seemed a bit short, but for a day laborer, height didn’t matter much as long as he could do the job properly.
After a brief inspection, she nodded. “Alright. You can come back with us in a bit.”
Beside them, Zhou Jingchen watched Sun Yushan for a long moment. His eyes flickered as he noted the man’s light, silent footsteps.
Ye Jia, oblivious to his gaze, directed Old Sun to drive the ox cart away. She then went to the man selling goat’s milk and bought a small bucket, followed by a large basket of radishes, which she had delivered.
Laden with their purchases, the group returned to the Zhou family home.
The roof tiles had been delivered the day before. The Sun father and son helped unload the stove and the radishes.
Hearing the commotion, Madam Yu emerged from the house. Seeing the abundance of goods, she hurried over to help. She wasn’t working her stall today and had been idle at home, so she had prepared breakfast—which, in reality, was just a simple porridge. She didn’t know how to cook anything else. After helping carry the items inside, she noticed the grimy steamed bun cradled in Old Sun’s arms.
“Come in and eat with us,” she insisted.
Old Sun naturally declined. He was here to deliver goods, not to be a guest. How could he accept their money and then eat their food? But after a few polite refusals, seeing her sincerity, he agreed to a bowl of porridge.
The Zhou family was generous and kind, and the Suns were determined to repay them with their best work. Before leaving, Old Sun instructed Sun Yushan to work diligently. Only after his son nodded in agreement did he depart, his spirits high.
Sun Yushan was indeed as diligent as Old Sun had claimed. As soon as he finished his meal, he climbed onto the roof to inspect it.
Ye Jia stood in the courtyard, gazing up at the roof from a distance. Curious, Rui’er tried to follow her example, but she was too short to see anything. Madam Yu, however, stood beside her, her face beaming with a smile. She couldn’t resist glancing at her son.
With the roof needing repairs, they couldn’t keep anyone inside the house. Zhou Jingchen’s leg hadn’t fully healed yet, so he couldn’t stand for long and had to sit. He was currently perched on a stool outside the house.
“How was your trip with Jia-niang today?” Madam Yu asked, hoping the two of them would get along. It was a rare chance for them to be alone, so she naturally wanted to know.
Zhou Jingchen’s expression remained impassive. “Business was booming.”
“Is that what I’m asking you?”
His refusal to get to the point exasperated her.
“I’m asking how things are between you and Jia-niang. Yun’an, you two have been married for over two months, yet you’re still sleeping in separate rooms. Forget about that girl from the Gu family; just settle down and live a good life with Jia-niang.”
Zhou Jingchen remained silent.
After a long moment, he abruptly asked, “Does Jia-niang go to town often?”
Madam Yu’s heart skipped a beat at the question. She turned to study her son’s expression, wondering whose side of the family he’d inherited such a brooding nature from. Unable to read him, she replied vaguely, “She grew up in town, so she goes back often.”
“I see.”
The conversation between mother and son ended there.
The roof was just as Ye Jia had suspected. It hadn’t been sealed with mud, only layered with tiles. The tiles were badly cracked, and the straw covering them had rotted. No wonder the room reeked of mold; the smell must have been coming from the decaying straw.
Sun Yushan asked Madam Yu for a broom and swept the straw off the roof.
As the debris fell, the wind whipped up a cloud of dust and stench that nearly choked Madam Yu and Rui’er. Madam Yu quickly covered her granddaughter’s nose, her face pale as she asked Ye Jia if they still wanted the straw.
“No,” Ye Jia replied. Why would we want it when it’s this rotten? She kept the cloth tied around her head and had somehow found a long strip of fabric to cover her nose. “If you were thinking of using it for kindling, Mother, I’d advise against it.”
Madam Yu looked away, embarrassed that Ye Jia had seen right through her. “It’s a waste to throw it away,” she muttered. “Burning it would at least give us a couple of days’ worth of firewood.”
Ye Jia glanced at Madam Yu, about to speak, when she spotted Zhou Jingchen in the corner of the courtyard. He stood there, utterly bewildered, covered in the rotten grass that had just fallen on him. Dust and debris coated his clothes and shoulders, and a few stray blades of grass were even stuck in his hair.
He was usually a man of little expression, and this was the first time she had ever seen him look so disheveled. Ye Jia couldn’t help but laugh aloud at his misfortune.
Zhou Jingchen leaned on his crutch, swatting at his head and clothes.
His efforts were half-hearted. Perhaps he couldn’t see the grass, or perhaps he just couldn’t reach it. A single blade remained stubbornly lodged in his hair, untouched by his clumsy patting.
Ye Jia had been enjoying the show, but as she watched his hand miss the grass again and again, her amusement turned to frustration. After the third or fourth attempt, her obsessive-compulsive streak took over. Unable to bear it any longer, she strode forward, grabbed his collar, and forced his head down to pluck the grass from his hair.
Only after she pulled the blade free did she realize how close they were. Their eyes met, their faces nearly touching.
Madam Yu stared, speechless. When Ye Jia turned her head, the older woman hurriedly feigned busyness, cradling her granddaughter and hurrying away. “Jia-niang, I’ve washed the radishes! I’ll take them inside to chop…”
Ye Jia, a woman who prided herself on her composure, could only stare blankly.