Early spring.
The mountains are misty. A frail figure runs down the slope, carrying a bamboo basket on his back. His breath fogs the air, almost obscuring the path, and he occasionally stumbles, quickly scrambling back up to keep running.
Just before, He Ge’er from the neighboring village hurriedly ran into the mountains to deliver a message: Yuan Zhao’s second uncle’s family finally insists on marrying him off—but not to a good family, to the old widower living on the village hill!
The widower is over forty, ugly, and a drunkard. He’s married before, but none of his wives survived.
How could he marry such a man?!
It’s like being pushed straight into a pit of fire.
Years of living under others’ roofs taught him patience, but now they want to devour his last value—he cannot accept this.
The path down the mountain is rougher than ever, but he dares not stop. He must find out if this is true.
Gasping for breath as he reaches home, he hears sharp laughter inside, as if some goal has already been achieved.
“I’m back!” He takes a deep breath in the courtyard, suppressing the metallic taste in his mouth. His pale, thin face flushes from the run, giving him an oddly honest, simple look. “Second Aunt, I have something to say—”
“Just in time! Come meet him!” Second Aunt Wang Xiaohua steps out smiling, behind her the old widower. “Brother Wang wants to marry you! Your luck’s about to change!”
Yuan Zhao’s eyes fall on the widower—his face turns pale.
He didn’t expect him to come to the house now! And it seems everything is decided?
“I won’t!” Yuan Zhao shakes his head.
“What do you mean?” The widower frowns, displeased. “You haven’t agreed?”
“No, no!” Wang Xiaohua hurriedly reassures him, then glares at Yuan Zhao. “Child, what’s wrong with you? Older men know how to care for you. Why won’t you accept it?”
Yuan Zhao’s young face is troubled. “Care for someone to death? You know he hits people!”
Wang Xiaohua glares at the widower, scolding sharply: “Every wife gets hit! You just need to take care of your husband—this you can do!”
“I could do it, but I won’t! He’s no good! Didn’t all his previous wives die? Or do you want me dead too?” Yuan Zhao chokes back tears, furious. “Auntie, you said he only drinks and kills! Now you want me to marry him!”
“Don’t talk nonsense!” Wang Xiaohua scolds.
The widower downs from his flask, his murky eyes fixed on the crying Yuan Zhao. Indeed, the boy looks the most appetizing.
He spits, wipes his mouth, and sneers, “Wang Xiaohua, I don’t care about your family. You asked for ten taels, I gathered the money. If this marriage fails, you wait and see!”
“You’ll hit me if I refuse?! Is there any justice?” Yuan Zhao stares in disbelief, feeling the cruelty of being targeted by this filthy old man.
The widower is momentarily silenced—he didn’t expect the boy to know how to use that against him. But as long as Yuan Zhao marries him, he has the final say.
Even an honest magistrate can’t settle domestic affairs—behind closed doors, not even the Heavenly King can interfere.
Years of the deceased were ignored, and now so is this.
Yuan Zhao, usually obedient, surprises Wang Xiaohua with his defiance.
“Don’t make trouble! You’ll marry whether you want to or not! Don’t think you can avoid paying a head tax when you turn eighteen! Don’t forget your household registration papers are still with me! If I say you marry, you marry!”
A chill surges into Yuan Zhao’s chest. The cold wind feels like a blunt knife slicing his heart.
He thought he had some bond with his second uncle’s family, but now he sees clearly: he does not want to marry.
But with his household papers in Second Aunt’s hands, and being too young when their parents died, he was trapped.
“Aunt Xiaohua! That’s not fair! You can’t force someone to drink water if the ox won’t!” A neighbor’s childish voice protests, “You’re spending Grand Uncle Da Wu’s inheritance, and now you want to sell the children—Heaven sees this!”
Before finishing, the voice is cut off.
Neighbors can hear the commotion—they despise Wang Xiaohua’s ways, but it’s ultimately her business.
Still, it reminds Yuan Zhao that he and Yuan Yuan aren’t completely destitute—they were only under others’ roofs because of their parents’ inheritance.
Now, it seems it was all lies.
He wipes his tears angrily. “I won’t marry! Don’t be too extreme, Auntie. I can take care of Yuan Yuan now. We’ll move out ourselves, severing this family tie!”
He’s lively and reasonable, but not foolish. Forcing him to marry Wang Guanfu would be like forcing him to die. Such relatives are not worth keeping.
But severing ties is serious—no one dares speak such defiance in this village.
“You dare rebel!” Wang Xiaohua loses control, shrieking, “Who do you think you are?! I’m giving you a marriage proposal, yet you dare speak back! You’re black and skinny—you won’t marry unless I arrange it! You dare move out, you ungrateful brat! Why not fly to the sky!”
Her furious shouting strikes Yuan Zhao’s heart. He trembles in fear, tears flowing despite his attempts to wipe them away.
Suddenly, a small, thin figure dashed out from the house, leaping into Yuan Zhao’s arms and beginning to sob uncontrollably. The tiny body shook like a sieve, clearly terrified.
Yuan Zhao could not bear to see Yuan Yuan wronged, which only strengthened his resolve.
“I won’t marry, no matter what! Auntie is so eager for silver—why not marry Xiangxiang off instead?” Yuan Zhao’s eyes were red as he glared. “You clearly know he’s nothing but a drunken good-for-nothing. You don’t want your daughter to fall into a pit of fire, yet you want to shove someone else into it!”
After saying this, he crouched down, softly comforting Yuan Yuan.
“Don’t be afraid, your brother is here,” Yuan Zhao gently patted him. “Brother has something to do now. Can you go inside for a bit? Collect the things I told you before—everything that belongs to us.”
“Okay… sob, sob…”
“Remember, what belongs to us—if you can’t find it, look carefully.”
“I remember… sob, sob…”
Yuan Yuan sniffled and returned to the little shed to pack up, carefully following his brother’s instructions, then tiptoed toward the main house.
The commotion had naturally attracted the attention of the village chief, and Yuan Zhao’s mention of “breaking ties” was considered outrageous. The chief hurried over.
Seeing the standoff in the yard, the village chief looked both helpless and angry, launching into a scolding at Yuan Zhao.
“Zhao’er, I’m not saying this lightly, but how old are you? Yet you dare talk back to your elders! Whatever the elders say, you do it—you were raised by your uncle and aunt, so consider it repaying them! You’ve grown up in this village, yet you’ve turned into an ungrateful brat!”
The message was clear: Yuan Zhao was in the wrong.
But Yuan Zhao felt as if a hidden fire burned in his chest, forcing him to restrain the urge to shout, to fight, to curse. He had to wait a little longer.
“I was raised on my parents’ silver,” he quietly added after listening.
Yuan Zhao’s second uncle’s family had taken his parents’ silver and land. It was only natural that they cared for him—it was their duty, not a favor. In fact, over the years, Yuan Zhao had handled almost all the work for his uncle’s family. Even if calculated, he had been the one taking the loss!
“You…” The village chief was momentarily at a loss, and could only divert the topic. “Regardless, your aunt is an elder—you can’t just break ties!”
“Village chief, would you willingly marry your daughter to that widower Wang?” Yuan Zhao asked calmly.
The village chief frowned sharply. “Stop talking nonsense!”
Yuan Zhao smiled faintly. “Everyone knows what kind of man he is.”
Even in the empty courtyard, he felt those murky eyes assessing him with an uncomfortable intensity. He shuddered to imagine how miserable it would be if he were really married off.
The air grew tense, cold winds brushing everyone’s faces. With the village chief present, no one dared continue the quarrel.
Even the old widower sensed the danger—the village chief’s presence could no longer suppress this boy. This marriage was likely doomed, though he was unwilling to admit it.
“I won’t marry. I swear I will never marry…”
“You’re such a stubborn boy!” The village chief frowned, clearly exasperated. “Aren’t all children supposed to obey their elders? If you keep this up, you may not even be able to stay here!”
“Then I’ll leave. I’ll break ties,” Yuan Zhao said firmly. He would never marry.
This casual remark again sparked Wang Xiaohua’s rage. She pointed at Yuan Zhao, yelling, “Then get out! Get out of my house immediately! We raised you for two years, and you’re so ungrateful! What do you think you are? If your parents hadn’t died early, we wouldn’t even have silver to support you! You’ve really got a big head on your shoulders!”
The words were harsh, but Yuan Zhao ignored them.
His gaze remained fixed on the house. After a moment, as if reacting to some command, he lifted his foot and walked inside, soon emerging with Yuan Yuan carrying the packed bundles.
Seeing him ready to leave, the old widower realized something was wrong—they were running away! How could a marriage happen now?
“What are you doing?” The village chief frowned, his tone softening. “If you don’t want to, fine. We can discuss it. Your aunt meant well—you’re just too stubborn!”
“I can take care of my brother,” Yuan Zhao said softly. He had come to his uncle’s home only because he was young and unable to properly care for Yuan Yuan before.
Wang Xiaohua, however, thought he was putting on airs. Standing under the eaves, hands on her hips, she looked down on him with disdain. “If you’re capable, leave. I want to see who else will take in such an ungrateful brat! When you’re starving and come crawling back, maybe I’ll think about feeding you some scraps!”
“What are you saying!” The village chief frowned, blocking her.
“Exactly what I said. I want to see where they’ll go once they leave us!” Wang Xiaohua sneered, clearly anticipating their fate.
Yuan Zhao held Yuan Yuan’s hand and walked out. Before leaving the yard, they ran into a few people.
A blind man and a woman carrying a child. The woman peeked inside, then looked at Yuan Zhao, asking softly, “Is this the Yuan Daguang household?”
“Yes!” Wang Xiaohua quickly replied, running over. “What’s this about?”
“I’m looking for a boy named Yuan Zhao,” the woman said warmly but urgently.
Yuan Zhao was taken aback. “That’s me.”
The woman’s face lit up with surprise. “Really? Old sir, are you sure you were right?”
“Yes,” the old blind man confirmed, then looked at Yuan Zhao. “If I’m not mistaken, you were born at noon on the nineteenth day of the fourth lunar month?”
Yuan Zhao sensed something and did not answer directly. Instead, he asked, “What about it?”
The woman hurriedly explained the situation. In short, her son was gravely ill and needed someone with a matching birthdate to perform a “ritual of luck” immediately.
“I… it’s that date you mentioned…” Yuan Zhao replied, voice trembling, though he tried to maintain a calm expression.
Hearing this, Yuan Yuan looked up, surprised. He remembered his brother’s birthday—it wasn’t the nineteenth of the fourth lunar month!
Yuan Zhao tightened his grip on Yuan Yuan’s hand and said firmly, “I was born on the nineteenth day of the fourth lunar month by the lunar calendar!”
“That’s wonderful!” The woman finally smiled.
Yes, wonderful.
Yuan Zhao blinked dry eyes, and just when he thought there was nowhere to go, fortune arrived.
His parents truly did not want him and Yuan Yuan to sleep on the streets.
Wang Xiaohua understood, squinting. “So they want to take him for the ritual of luck. That’s easy—give silver!”
“No!” Seeing the woman reach for her purse, Yuan Zhao quickly shouted, “We’re no longer relatives. You can’t give her silver!”
“You wretched brat!” Wang Xiaohua yelled.
The woman, realizing the situation, still took a small silver piece from her purse and handed it to Yuan Zhao. “Since it’s for marriage luck, consider this the bride price. You have nowhere else to go, so why not come home with me?”
Yuan Zhao took the silver in stunned silence, clutching it tightly, a smile creeping onto his face.
“I’ll go with you.”
“You wretched brat, if you leave, don’t come back!”
Who cared!