After Shi Wuxiang learned of the incident, he both praised and scolded Yuan Zhao. Although it was good that Yuan Zhao was no longer being threatened, he should not have rushed out with a chopper. Hurting others was one thing—hurting himself would be far worse.
Still, he knew Yuan Zhao had truly reached his limit.
The family listened as Yuan Zhao recounted the gossip from Xiahe Village. The sheer absurdity shattered Shi Wuxiang’s worldview and left him with a headache for quite a while.
After that, the Yuan family became too occupied with their own troubles to bother Yuan Zhao again. Life returned to its routine, and they continued running their stall day by day.
Summer weather was fickle—rain one day, sunshine the next—and before long, summer reached its end.
The wheat in the fields ripened for harvest. Fortunately, rainfall had been sufficient, so the crops were not badly affected. Though their land was small, they did not have to pay taxes, which was enough to sustain them.
If it was not enough, they would simply buy more.
Around the Autumn Equinox, Yuan Zhao stopped going out to sell until the harvest was finished. Only then did he return to town.
With the weather cooling, more people came to buy wraps. The mung bean soup they once sold was replaced with sweet red bean soup.
Yuan Zhao prepared the wraps on one side, while Madam Shi made egg pancakes on the other. Their earlier idea had finally been put into practice—working together made things much faster.
Today was market day, and the streets were especially crowded. It was also a day off for the academy students.
Cheng Du and Fu Ying came to his stall again, accompanied by Hu Lu.
“Scholar Hu, long time no see,” Yuan Zhao greeted with a smile. “I haven’t seen you around the academy entrance—has your coursework been heavy?”
Hu Lu felt conflicted.
He could not deny that he liked Yuan Zhao. He had rarely seen someone so bright and confident—just like his name, like the sun.
Every time they met, Yuan Zhao wore a smile, treating everyone warmly. Even when bantering with Cheng Du, he seemed completely unbothered.
Before, Hu Lu had wondered why Yuan Zhao always helped Shi Wuxiang—choosing paper for him, lending him books. Even for someone from the same village, it seemed excessive.
Only after Yuan Zhao’s stall became successful—drawing even the magistrate’s attention—and eventually being set up at the academy gates did he begin to suspect something.
Yet he still held onto a sliver of hope—until he saw Shi Wuxiang’s mother working alongside Yuan Zhao at the stall.
He had no choice but to believe it.
A sour ache filled his chest, yet he did not even have the right to question it.
“I’ve been a bit busy. Studying also requires a balance between work and rest, so I came out for a walk,” Hu Lu replied gently.
This matter could not be blamed on anyone else. Even without Shi Wuxiang, there was never any possibility between him and Yuan Zhao.
During this period, he had been trying to persuade himself, and at last, he was able to accept it calmly.
Yuan Zhao nodded. “Then today’s egg pancakes are on me!”
Cheng Du quickly glanced at Hu Lu’s expression and cut in, “A Ying and I argued with Li Qingwei for you—aren’t you going to treat us too?”
“Fine, fine, I’ll treat you! You’re so stingy!” Yuan Zhao bantered with him without any sense of distance, then turned to Madam Shi beside him. “Mother, make egg pancakes for the three of them.”
“Alright!” Madam Shi answered, and conveniently prepared some red bean soup for them as well.
The three of them took their wraps but did not leave. Instead, they stood behind the stall, occasionally chiming into conversations or chatting with Yuan Yuan.
For the third time, Yuan Yuan smacked away the hand reaching for his head. He looked up at Cheng Du. “If you want to play with me, just say so. But you can’t interrupt my work—that’s not good.”
Cheng Du, holding his wrap with both hands: “??? Me?”
Fu Ying coughed lightly. “Sorry. Your head is very round—you must sleep very well.”
He got praised!
Yuan Yuan touched his head and grinned up at them. “My brother sleeps with me. It’s all thanks to him. Brother says a round head means you’re smart.”
“Mm.” Fu Ying responded. A perfectly round little head really did feel wonderful to touch—rarely did one see a head shaped so perfectly from good sleep.
Hearing them, Yuan Zhao only smiled. His own head was quite round too. He remembered his mother saying that a round head looked full and pleasing. Now that his parents were gone, it was naturally his responsibility to ensure Yuan Yuan grew up well-rounded.
Fortunately, he had done a decent job.
The three scholars lingered behind the stall, eating and chatting, drawing quite a bit of attention. Some familiar scholars also came over to buy food and ended up joining Cheng Du and the others in conversation.
Even in front of these scholars, Yuan Zhao showed not the slightest bit of timidity. Hu Lu, standing nearby, let out a soft sigh—this was one of the qualities he liked most about him.
But these qualities… Wuxiang had known about them long ago.
Since the academy was on break today, Yuan Zhao did not need to set up his stall in front of it. Waves of customers came and went in a hurry, making Cheng Du and the others seem especially carefree by comparison.
“You don’t have anything else to do?” Yuan Zhao asked, not to chase them away, but simply surprised they had stayed so long.
“Nothing today. We just wanted to come chat with you for a bit. Later we’ll go to the bookshop to buy some paper and ink, and that’s about it,” Cheng Du said.
Yuan Zhao had originally wanted to ask about the academy fees, but with Madam Shi present, he felt inexplicably embarrassed. He worried it might be misunderstood, so he merely responded and said no more.
They stayed for about half an hour before leaving together to buy their things.
As he left, Hu Lu turned back to look at him once more. Yuan Zhao’s thoughts were elsewhere, so he did not notice.
After a summer of running the stall, Yuan Zhao had indeed saved quite a bit. The new house was already built, and daily expenses were mostly just rice, flour, grain, and oil—bought in bulk and lasting a long time. Even accounting for pocket money for the children, they had not spent much overall.
For people like them, studying was the best path forward. He had always wanted Shi Qingyue to attend the academy and earn a degree. That way, even if he and Yuan Yuan eventually left with their trade, he would not feel guilty.
So, as soon as he got home, Yuan Zhao brought it up with the family to hear their thoughts.
“If I go study, what happens to the fields at home?” Shi Qingyue frowned. There was anticipation, but even more hesitation.
He knew his current value well. His older brother, sister-in-law, and mother were all earning money. Xiao Ran and Yuan Yuan were still too young. He himself barely counted as the family’s main support—yet the farm work would not get done without him.
Besides, he was not as good at studying as his older brother.
Yuan Zhao said, “We can hire someone to help with the fields, but studying cannot be delayed. Didn’t you study before? Why not return to your old academy?”
“I think we should wait for big brother to come back and discuss it…” Shi Qingyue was reluctant to decide on his own. After all, he was now the family’s main pillar—the number one farmhand!
“He’ll agree. Next spring, you can go to the academy together. You don’t need to worry about things at home,” Yuan Zhao said. “Studying for official rank is also a way to earn money for the family!”
Shi Qingyue was smart. If he passed the xiucai exam, there would be a reward, and their land would be exempt from taxes. What a great deal!
“A Zhao, there’s no rush. Let Ah Yue think it over first. When Ah Xiang returns, we can ask his opinion too,” Madam Shi said, smoothing things over when she saw her son’s hesitation.
“Alright.” Yuan Zhao smiled. “I was being too hasty.”
The matter soon passed. After washing up the stall cart and resting a bit, it was time to prepare dinner.
After eating, the family sat under the eaves as usual, chatting idly. The conversation circled around everyday matters, and Yuan Zhao even heard from Shi Qingyue that Yuan Xiangxiang was getting married.
Though he had long cut ties with the Yuan family, he still paid attention to such news.
“Which family is she marrying into? The betrothal gifts must be generous.”
Otherwise, Wang Xiaohua would never agree. She had raised her daughter precisely to marry her off for money.
“I only heard a bit. It seems the man is quite old. Honestly, Yuan Xiangxiang isn’t very pretty, and her temper is terrible. It’s already good that someone is willing to marry her!” Shi Qingyue still remembered the wrongs done by the Yuan family and could not help but curse a few more times.
Knowing this much was enough for Yuan Zhao. No matter whom Yuan Xiangxiang married, Wang Xiaohua would certainly get her money. Moreover, he had personally heard Wang Xiaohua mention sending Yuan Jinbao to the academy—clearly, she had not given up on him.
Attending an academy required a lot of money. Even now, they were working hard just to barely afford sending Ah Xiang and Ah Yue.
There was still some time before next spring. They needed to save more—no matter what, they could not give up on education.
Shi Wuxiang was very pleased about Shi Qingyue studying. A half-grown boy being able to attend school was naturally a good thing—it was the right age for it.
“I’ll pay for his expenses, and you’ll pay for mine,” Shi Wuxiang said. “It’s shameless of me, but I do need your help.”
“This is what I should do,” Yuan Zhao murmured.
Their family truly got along well. No one was constantly thinking about how to take money from the others, nor plotting against one another.
Money was earned together, so it was only right to spend it together.
He did not like the idea of family members calculating everything so precisely—after all, how could family be measured so clearly?
“In the future, we can divide our earnings into categories—daily expenses, food and necessities, gifts, and so on. Do you understand what I mean?” Shi Wuxiang said.
Yuan Zhao frowned, a hint of irritation in his eyes. “Do you think I’m an idiot every day?”
“Not to that extent,” Shi Wuxiang replied.
“To that extent? What’s wrong with Cheng Du?” Yuan Zhao stared at him blankly.
Shi Wuxiang’s expression became colorful. His fingers twitched with the urge to pry open Yuan Zhao’s head and see what was inside. Was there even a brain in there?
He sighed softly. “Shake your head.”
Though confused, Yuan Zhao did as told, holding his head with an innocent look. “What is it? There’s nothing wrong.”
“Didn’t you hear water sloshing?” Shi Wuxiang asked.
“No.” Yuan Zhao answered obediently, even shaking his head again. “There’s nothing inside.”
Shi Wuxiang laughed. “You’re right.”
Yuan Zhao blinked, thinking it over carefully.
There’s nothing inside your head.
You’re right.
“…”
“I’m not talking to you anymore.” Yuan Zhao lay down stiffly, turning his back to him, his entire posture radiating stubbornness.
Shi Wuxiang held back his laughter, though his shoulders trembled slightly. After calming down, he gently tapped Yuan Zhao’s back.
“I’m not teasing you anymore. Don’t sulk in silence.”
“Sulking is supposed to be done quietly! If you don’t want to see me sulk, then you leave—no, I’ll leave! I’ll go sleep with Yuan Yuan. He’s better than you!” Yuan Zhao said, grabbing his blanket as he prepared to go.
Shi Wuxiang simply lifted his leg to block him. It was such an ordinary action, yet somehow carried an odd sense of mischief.
Yuan Zhao was stunned.
He widened his eyes slightly, disbelief in his voice. “How can you be like this? Aren’t scholars supposed to be proper and upright? Why are you so bad?”
“I’m bad again?” Shi Wuxiang could not help but laugh as he nudged Yuan Zhao back inside with his leg. “Lie down properly. If you go over there, you’ll wake Yuan Yuan and make him worry we’re arguing. Do you want to scare him?”
“It’s clearly all your fault!”
“Mm, my fault, my fault. Now lie down.”
Yuan Zhao huffed and lay back down with his blanket. He still wanted to be angry, but with the other’s attitude so gentle, the anger could not even gather before it dissipated.
Under the cover of night, he tilted his head slightly to look at Shi Wuxiang.
That budding feeling in his heart had, at some unknown point, been nurtured by the other’s indulgence and protection. It was slowly sprouting, growing—one day, it might become a towering tree.
A faint bitterness rose in Yuan Zhao’s chest.
He really liked Shi Wuxiang.
But that very feeling… was wrong.
Even so, the other person could still tolerate his faults, could meet his affection-filled gaze—every glance they exchanged seemed tinged with indulgence.
So Ah Xiang was bad too, just innocently bad.
“I’m going to sleep,” Yuan Zhao said softly, turning onto his side.
A young heart’s feelings always came in fierce waves, but one good sleep would settle them. He could go back to hiding them away again.
After all, Ah Xiang would understand and tolerate him.
Shi Wuxiang did not know why he had suddenly grown downcast again. Just moments ago, he had already coaxed him back to normal. Besides, he knew Yuan Zhao only liked to throw little temper tantrums—there was no one easier to comfort than him.
Even Yuan Yuan needed a few words.
Yuan Zhao only needed one.
He treated these complicated and inexplicable emotions as nothing more than a rebellious phase of youth and did not dare disturb him further. He gently patted his back and soon fell asleep as well.
Yuan Zhao had thought that after sleeping, he would feel better—but this sleep was especially uncomfortable. When he struggled to sit up, the world spun around him, his vision darkening in waves, his throat aching terribly.
“Yuan Zhao?”
At the sound of his name, his fingers twitched slightly—so faint it was almost imperceptible, yet Shi Wuxiang still noticed.
He set the food on the table, walked to the bedside, and took hold of Yuan Zhao’s rough fingers. With his other hand, he felt his forehead. “Still not cooled down. I made some porridge—do you want some?”
Yuan Zhao lightly scratched his palm.
Shi Wuxiang chuckled. “Then I’ll bring it over and feed you. Let go first.”
The plain porridge was bland, but for someone feverish with a swollen throat, it was the best choice—gentle and non-irritating.
Yuan Zhao barely had the strength to open his mouth, making feeding him difficult. It took nearly fifteen minutes to finish a single bowl of porridge, but thankfully, it was done.
“Mother took Xiao Yuan and Ah Yue to the stall. Ranran and I are home taking care of you. This is a bell—if you feel unwell, ring it twice; if you need the restroom, keep ringing,” Shi Wuxiang said, placing a small bell in his hand.
He had specially taken it from beneath Village Chief Niu’s eaves—he would have to return it later.
Yuan Zhao scratched his palm again to show he understood.
“Ranran will bring the medicine shortly. Drink it, then sleep some more. I brought candied fruit,” Shi Wuxiang added.
Shi Qingran entered with the medicine. Before she even approached, Yuan Zhao could already smell its strong bitterness. Even without opening his eyes, he knew he was about to face a bowl of dark, bitter liquid—no wonder he always hated getting sick.
Though his eyes remained shut, his whole body radiated resistance.
Shi Wuxiang lifted him and pulled him into his arms, taking the bowl and bringing it to his lips. “It’s not hot anymore. Just gulp it down in a couple of swallows—better one sharp pain than a long one. Come on.”
Nestled in Shi Wuxiang’s embrace, his back pressed against the other’s chest, Yuan Zhao could hear the steady, powerful heartbeat behind him. He opened his mouth in a daze, all thoughts of bitterness forgotten—his attention fixed entirely on the warmth at his back.
Only when the bitter medicine filled his mouth did he snap back to reality. He tried to pull away, but Shi Wuxiang pinched his nose and forced the medicine down.
“Cough, cough—ugh—”
“Sorry. The medicine works faster this way. Drink some water, then have some candied fruit.” Shi Wuxiang held him, gently rocking him. “Yes, I’m bad—but don’t cry. Your eyes are already swollen. The more you cry, the worse it’ll get.”
Yuan Zhao dug his fingers into his palm in protest.
Shi Wuxiang assumed he was muttering about how much he hated him again and coaxed him patiently. When drowsiness overtook him, he laid him down. “Rest. Remember to ring the bell.”
This time, Yuan Zhao made no further movement. As soon as he was laid down, he fell asleep.
“Is sister-in-law alright?” Ranran asked softly. “He suddenly got sick.”
Shi Wuxiang patted her head. “He’ll be fine. A few days of medicine and rest will do it.”
At the end of the day, Yuan Zhao was still just a child. With the changing seasons, his weak constitution and unstable emotions made him prone to illness. Was it really just a rebellious phase?
After a dose of strong medicine, Yuan Zhao slept heavily for an entire day. He woke only because of the sticky discomfort all over his body—sweat from his fever had soaked his clothes, clinging unpleasantly to his skin…
He lay there in a daze, not daring to move.
When Shi Wuxiang entered, he saw him staring blankly ahead, as if he had transcended worldly concerns. He stepped closer, feeling his forehead—it was true, children recovered quickly; a sweat after medicine and the fever was gone.
Yuan Zhao stared at him. The person from his dreams now stood right before him.
“Does it hurt a lot?” Shi Wuxiang wiped the sweat from him with a cloth. “Open your mouth—let me see your throat.”
Those long, well-defined fingers seemed especially alluring in Yuan Zhao’s eyes. He swallowed, lowering his gaze, not daring to look further, yet obediently opened his mouth.
His throat was still red and swollen. The fever had subsided, but the inflammation had not fully gone.
“Another couple of days of medicine and you’ll be fine. Do you need the restroom?” Shi Wuxiang asked gently. “I’ll bring the chamber pot. You’ve just sweated—you can’t go outside.”
Yuan Zhao jerked his head up, horrified. He was already this old—how could he use a chamber pot in broad daylight?
He shook his head rapidly. Absolutely not!
Shi Wuxiang had considered his pride, but the fever had only just broken. If he caught a chill again, it might worsen.
“I won’t watch. You handle it yourself,” Shi Wuxiang said. “When you’re done, ring the bell. This is as far as I’ll step back. If you’re still not satisfied—then wet the bed.”
Yuan Zhao: “???”
I can’t talk right now, and you’re really taking advantage of that?!
But what could he do? He could only obediently follow, since wetting the bed was not an option.
Afterward, Yuan Zhao looked even more dazed.
Remembering something, he rang the bell.
“I… cough, cough—”
It hurt so much!
“What do you want?” Shi Wuxiang brought water to his lips. “Hungry? Or want to say something? Mother and the others are back. Yuan Yuan is fine.”
Yuan Zhao lifted his clothes slightly—he wanted to bathe and change! The discomfort was unbearable!
After thinking a moment, Shi Wuxiang said, “We’ll heat water and wipe you down, but afterward, you have to drink another bowl of medicine. That’s the condition. Understood?”
Yuan Zhao nodded.
“Good boy,” Shi Wuxiang praised with a smile.
Yuan Zhao’s face flushed instantly. He turned away, not daring to look at him again—otherwise, those embarrassing dreams would keep haunting him.
Hot water soon filled the tub. Shi Wuxiang had intended to help undress him, but Yuan Zhao refused. Only after he got into the water did he allow Shi Wuxiang to turn around.
“Just a quick wash for now. When you’re fully recovered, I’ll wash you properly,” Shi Wuxiang said, wiping him down with a cloth.
Since Yuan Zhao kept himself fairly clean, there was not much dirt. A simple soak and wash made him feel much better, and putting on clean clothes felt even more refreshing.
By evening, the room gradually darkened.
Shi Wuxiang lit a candle and told Yuan Zhao to wait inside while he went out to bring food.
Madam Shi had prepared thin noodles with two eggs. “How is A Zhao? Feeling better? Bring out his dirty clothes later—I’ll wash them. They’ll dry by night.”
“I can wash them myself,” Shi Wuxiang said.
Having barely eaten all day, Yuan Zhao was starving. But with his sore throat, he ate slowly, leaving the round egg yolks untouched in the bowl.
“I forgot to tell Mother about your throat—it’s my fault. Give me the yolks.”
Yuan Zhao nodded. Normally, he loved egg yolks.
After eating came medicine again. Once he finished, all his strength seemed drained. He lay on the bed, face scrunched up like a wrinkled bitter melon.
“I told you to rinse your mouth before eating candied fruit, but you wouldn’t listen. The more you eat, the worse it tastes,” Shi Wuxiang said, making him rinse with tea. “Never seen someone as stubborn as you—and you’re even pouting? You’ve got some nerve.”
Yuan Zhao angrily grabbed the bell and shook it hard by his ear.
Serves you right for scolding me!
If I could talk, I’d scold you right back!
Shi Wuxiang closed his eyes. “Alright, alright, my fault. You’re the patient—you’re the boss. Don’t hold it against me…”
Yuan Zhao pouted. He was no “young master.”
“Stop shaking it. I’m only saying it for your own good. You’ve cried so much your nose is running,” Shi Wuxiang clicked his tongue, quickly holding a cloth to his nose. “Blow. Harder. Is there more? Try again.”
“Mm!” Yuan Zhao dodged—there was nothing left to blow!
“Then sleep. Don’t wait for me,” Shi Wuxiang said. “I’ll go wash your clothes. It wouldn’t be right to let Mother do it.”
After taking the medicine, Yuan Zhao was already half-asleep, completely forgetting what secrets his dirty clothes held. He simply nodded.
After reminding him a few more times, Shi Wuxiang took the clothes Yuan Zhao had changed out of and went to wash them.
Along with the sweat, there was another distinct scent. Shi Wuxiang was no child—he had lived comfortably before and naturally knew what it was.
He simply smiled.
It seemed he could no longer call Yuan Zhao a child—otherwise, he might get chased and beaten for it.
Shi Wuxiang: “What are you muttering about? If you won’t use the chamber pot, then wet the bed!”