In the courtyard, Qi Chong was walking with his crutch, pushing himself despite the sweat soaking through his clothes. He wasn’t sure if his leg would ever fully heal, but his body had to stay strong—lying in bed all day would only make things worse.
Since Yu Chunmiao went up the mountain earlier, Chen Ruolan’s heart hadn’t been at ease for a moment. By around five in the afternoon, she was peeking anxiously through the courtyard gate.
Finally, when she saw her son and daughter-in-law laughing and chatting on the path, a relieved smile spread across her face as she turned to go back inside and start preparing dinner.
Qi Chong, sensing that his little brother had returned and that the “foolish” new wife had come back with him, silently turned and went back into the house.
Yu Chunmiao entered the courtyard just in time to catch a glimpse of Qi Chong’s retreating figure. Tall, at least a meter eighty, with a well-built frame, he looked imposing. She called out instinctively, “Qi Chong!”—curious to see the husband she’d been sold to.
Qi Chong didn’t turn around. He walked straight into the house and slammed the door. That was the first coldness she’d felt in this household.
“My eldest brother is like that. His leg hurts, so he’s not in the best mood,” Qi Rong explained hastily, as any younger brother would, “but he’s really a good person.”
Yu Chunmiao bent slightly, asking softly, “What happened to his leg? Can it heal?”
Qi Rong, worried that she might look down on his brother’s injury, waved his hand. “It’ll heal, it’ll heal. It just takes money, and right now we don’t have enough. Once we do, he’ll be fine.”
He feared that if she discovered Qi Chong’s leg might never fully recover, she might run off—like that clever girl in the village whose mother had left when her father was bedridden. Yu Chunmiao understood immediately: her money-making mission had just gotten more urgent.
They made their way to the back yard and dumped the wild vegetables into a large wooden basin. Yu Chunmiao, taking charge like an adult, grabbed the water bucket from Qi Rong and drew water from the well. Qi Rong washed everything carefully.
She brought over two small wooden basins, washing the snails and clams separately, keeping them in water to stay fresh.
Chen Ruolan came out to fetch water and, upon seeing the basin of snails, made the same disgusted face as her son. “What…what are we doing with these? Sticky, soft, slimy—yuck.”
Mother and son, indeed, thought alike.
Yu Chunmiao giggled. “Mother, they’re edible, I’ve eaten them before. Don’t worry.”
Chen Ruolan thought, well, at worst, it’ll waste a little firewood. If she doesn’t like it next time, they won’t make it again. Seeing Yu Chunmiao washing the vegetables with efficient, deft movements, she realized the girl wasn’t dumb after all—and quietly left her to work.
Wasn’t this supposed to be the girl who hadn’t spoken or laughed in six years? Everyone in Laosong Village had said she never fought back, never spoke, worked diligently, and endured hardships without complaint. This didn’t seem like the same girl. Was there a mistake? But her father had personally delivered her here…
The more Chen Ruolan thought, the more puzzled she became. She turned back to ask, “Chunmiao, you’re the Yu Chunmiao from Laosong Village, right? Your father is Yu Daman? Who else is in your family?”
Yu Chunmiao immediately understood what she was thinking and replied, almost like reciting her family tree: “Yes, I’m from Laosong Village, the Yu family in the west of the village. I’m sixteen this year. My father is Yu Daman, a gambler. My brother is Yu Qingshan, his wife Liu Xiuzhen, and my nephew Yu Wenjie, three years old.”
She needed a reason for her change in behavior, so she blurted out: “Mother, my father hit me with a stick. I passed out, and when I woke up, I was like this. I don’t know why—maybe… it opened something in me.”
Then she quickly added a second, more heartfelt explanation: “Also, the first time I saw you, mother, I thought of my own mother. I just wanted to be close to you, so I talk a lot. Please don’t mind me.”
Perhaps some people like talkative children over silent ones? Maybe she could change her ways later.
“Ohhh~~!” Chen Ruolan walked over, hugging her. “Good girl, you make me so happy! How could I ever dislike you? Qi Chong is a closed-off man, so you need to speak up more, alright?”
Qi Rong nodded in agreement. “My eldest brother is quiet, but mother says father was the same. Once he had mother, he changed. Maybe with a wife now, my brother will be better too.”
Chen Ruolan lightly tapped her son on the head and scolded playfully, “Stop talking nonsense!”
The tap looked harsh, but it was gentle, her smile still warm.
Yu Chunmiao couldn’t help but giggle at Qi Rong’s earnest, slightly awkward expression. This family… they were so kind, giving her the two things she had always lacked: maternal love and a sense of belonging. Her heart felt warm, and she leaned in to nuzzle Chen Ruolan’s neck.
Qi Rong glanced at the smiling new sister-in-law and didn’t feel wronged at all. After all, she really did look beautiful when she smiled. He found himself grinning along with her.
Yu Chunmiao, thinking of Qi Chong still hiding inside, resolved to show him her skills tomorrow. After all… the mouth that eats is short. Once she broke through this frozen exterior, it would feel like a small victory.
Meanwhile, in the kitchen, mother and daughter-in-law were busy preparing food, while in the backyard, Qi Chong and Qi Rong were bathing in cold water. The two brothers were completely naked. Qi Chong sat on a bamboo chair, his injured leg resting on a stool.
They weren’t worried about being seen; both courtyard gates were securely latched. The back wall was a steep stone cliff, easily five stories high—no one could get near it.
Qi Rong acted like a dutiful little servant, scooping water over his brother while wiping his back with a cloth.
“Big brother, is that enough?”
Qi Chong closed his eyes, leaning back with a satisfied hum.
Once he had finished washing everywhere except the wounded leg, he picked up the bucket and cloth. “Little Rong, I can finish the rest myself.”
Qi Rong paused for two seconds. “I wasn’t planning to do it anyway,” he muttered. It was better for Qi Chong to wash himself; the memory of being splashed with water as a child had left scars.
A gust of wind made Qi Rong shiver. “Hurry up, I need the bucket! It’ll get cold soon.”
Mountain evenings were always chilly, even in summer. The well water only made it worse.
After Qi Chong finished, wringing out the cloth, Qi Rong handed him the crutch. Leaning on it, Qi Chong let his little brother help with his back, his leg, handing him clothes and helping him dress—a master of being waited on. Only once he limped away did Qi Rong wash himself.
He couldn’t help it—he admired his big brother too much.
“Mother, bring some hot water for Rong, he’s cold!” Qi Chong called from the doorway. Chen Ruolan responded immediately, boiling water, while Yu Chunmiao ran to check—but all she saw was a door closing in front of her.
Her “cheap” husband… always hiding from her.
Dinner that evening tasted different. The cold dish of purslane, normally tossed with scallions, garlic, vinegar, and chili, somehow tasted extraordinary. Qi Chong polished off a plate and had his little brother fetch more. Meanwhile, the chicken soup went cold, half-eaten cornbread waiting.
Qi Rong stacked the vegetables high on a plate before bringing them back. Qi Chong devoured them like a cow grazing, muffled words escaping, “Why did it take so long? Did mother put it up high again?”
Qi Rong leaned on the table and said casually, “No, it’s all freshly tossed by your sister-in-law.”
Qi Chong paused mid-chew, a strange feeling of life seeping in from the outside world washing over him. But it didn’t matter—the food was real. Two seconds later, he was back to eating, mouthful after mouthful.
It had been a day filled with wild vegetables, warmth, and small comforts—a simple, complete day.