“Which shameless scoundrel dares run wild in your house?”
The man rolled up his sleeves and stormed toward the door to teach someone a lesson, but Qin Xiaoman yanked him back.
“Who asked you to meddle? That’s a man I brought home myself today!”
The man exclaimed, “You let a refugee stay in your house?!”
“So what? I have empty rooms. If I want someone to live here, I can. I was worried about finding a live-in husband… and now he’s here! Even praying at the temple isn’t this effective.”
“You… you’re a virtuous young master, and you bring a man home? How is that proper?”
“Proper? Who asked you, an outsider, to care?”
The man said urgently, “It’s not proper, what will people say outside?”
“Outside people don’t feed me or care if I’m warm. Why should I care what they say? He’s my husband now. Living together isn’t a problem!”
Du Heng, hearing the shouting outside, limped forward.
Seeing him walk awkwardly, one shoulder higher than the other, the man’s eyes widened further.
Pointing at Du Heng, he scoffed: “You want a live-in husband? That crippled man with all his limbs messed up—how can that work?!”
Qin Xiaoman, exasperated, snapped: “You think just because he’s lame he can’t be my husband? Can you marry me yourself? Or move in?”
The man faltered, losing his confidence and speechless.
Du Heng, being a man himself, immediately caught on. Seeing Qin Xiaoman truly annoyed, and with the rain growing heavier—soon everything looked dusted with white frost—he asked:
“Who’s this?”
The man gritted his fists, glaring at Du Heng. “I’m Xiaoman’s brother!”
“I’m not your brother. Get out. We’re having dinner.”
Qin Xiaoman shoved Zhao Qi out and closed the courtyard gate, ignoring his knocking.
Frustrated, Zhao Qi could only shout from the short stone wall beside the gate: “Xiaoman, don’t be foolish!”
Qin Xiaoman ignored him and led Du Heng inside.
Outside, Zhao Qi fretted. Seeing the two disappear into the house, there was nothing he could do. After a few unanswered shouts, he followed the path to another house.
Half a quarter-hour later, he reached home and banged on the door loudly.
“Second Uncle Qin! Are you home?!”
Soon, a well-built man emerged. His shoulders and arms moved with powerful ease, showing off his sturdy physique. Despite the cold, rainy winter day, he wore only a thin autumn jacket and didn’t shiver.
Beneath thick eyebrows, sharp eyes gleamed with the cold precision of a sharp blade. From afar, he could frighten any child.
Seeing Zhao Qi standing in the rain, Qin Xiong frowned. Opening the door, he asked, “It’s pouring. Why did Qizi come here?”
Zhao Qi panicked: “Second Uncle Qin, you have to talk to Xiaoman! He brought a man home to be his live-in husband! The guy is scrawny, like a monkey, and he’s a cripple!”
Hearing that his young nephew had actually found a live-in husband, Qin Xiong’s brows knitted tightly.
Not long ago, villagers were talking about a young man from the next village bringing in a refugee as a live-in husband. Now Xiaoman had done the same—but faster.
Qin Xiong wasn’t particularly fond of Zhao Qi. The kid spent all his time meddling in Xiaoman’s trivial matters and couldn’t handle the important ones. Such a man wasn’t worth much.
Still, Xiaoman bringing a man home was a serious matter. Qin Xiong said, “I’ll grab a straw hat and go see for myself.”
Zhao Qi watched him move slowly and panicked. “They’ve probably been living together for a while. I saw their underclothes hanging under the eaves just now. Inside, they were tugging and pulling at each other. Xiaoman even locked me outside the yard!”
Xiaoman had always been headstrong. From a young age, he did things his own way. Fights with other boys were nothing unusual.
Qin Xiong had gotten used to his nephew causing trouble. He wasn’t usually surprised, but hearing that the man’s underclothes were hanging under the eaves—well, he had children of his own—he realized this might not end well.
Village families weren’t as strict as people in the city. Widows remarried, and in the city, divorces were common—but those were after the marriage. Xiaoman was still a young, unwed boy. If the man he brought home wasn’t trustworthy, it could make it harder for him to find a suitable match later.
“This child!”
Inside the house, others had overheard the men shouting outside. Qin Xiong’s wife, Li Wanju, curious for a little drama, came out of the kitchen, braving the cold wind.
She cracked pumpkin seeds under the eaves while watching her husband grab a straw hat from the wall. “Put on your raincoat too. It’s pouring. Xiaoman’s trouble enough as it is. You wanted him to come here so you could look after him, but if he actually did, who knows what mess he’d cause?”
Qin Xiong shot her a look.
Seeing her husband rush off with Zhao Qi, Li Wanju noticed their nephew sliding out the door as well. She dropped a handful of pumpkin seeds into his hand. “Your dad’s still glaring at me. He’s heartless.”
Then she laughed. “Xiaoman really knows how to stir things up. He actually went and brought a man home after listening to the village gossip!”
Qin Xiaozhu added, “Xiaoman’s always had his own ideas. He’s headstrong, he can do whatever he wants. No one in the village wanted him anyway. If he didn’t shamelessly find a live-in husband himself, he’d end up alone for life.”
Mother and son chuckled together for a while before shrinking back inside.
“It’s chestnut season,” Du Heng remarked, gazing out at the fine rain.
Qin Xiaoman, just about to scoop rice into his bowl, paused. He was about to speak when Du Heng asked, “Did that man like you?”
“You only think about liking or not liking someone,” Xiaoman replied. He placed a bowl of rice in front of Du Heng and set a pair of chopsticks across it.
He hesitated a moment, then explained: “When my father was alive, he often dealt with the Zhao family. He verbally promised that when we grew up, we’d marry.”
Du Heng’s brow twitched. “So you had a falling out… and brought me home to get back at him?”
“I’m not a child. I may have been immature, but I’m not stupid,” Xiaoman said, picking at his rice. He wasn’t upset—just impatient. “After my dad passed, the Zhao family ignored that promise.”
Du Heng frowned. “Why?”
Xiaoman looked at him like he was naive. “I have a bad temper and I’m headstrong. Even in the village, my reputation wasn’t great. When my father was alive, people respected him. Now he’s gone, no one pays me any mind.”
“The Zhao family is well-off and only has one son. Zhao’s wife wouldn’t marry her son to someone like me—that’s normal. Once the chance arose, of course they backed out.”
“It’s not their fault. Everyone tries to live well. The Zhao family refusing the match is fine; we just keep our distance. But Zhao Qi insists on fussing over me, and if his mother finds out, she’ll scold me for messing with her son. It’s so annoying.”
Du Heng frowned. Even though he had only known Qin Xiaoman for a few hours, he already realized this boy had a surprisingly calm perspective on human affairs.
“People who give you things get your thanks,” he said. “Next time he bothers you, I’ll help you drive him off.”
Xiaoman laughed. “Come on. You think you can scare anyone? Zhao Qi is strong and capable—but a coward. You’re slower on your feet, forget it.”
Du Heng opened his mouth to argue that cowardice comes from temperament, not physique—but before he could speak, a loud thump-thump-thump rattled the courtyard door.
The force made it feel like the door might be pushed down.
“Can’t anyone leave me in peace for one day!” Xiaoman slammed his chopsticks down and frowned. “That damn Zhao Qi must’ve gone to complain to my second uncle!”
“Quick, don’t sit there! Go hide inside and lock the door. Whatever happens, don’t come out,” he instructed, tugging Du Heng from the bench and pushing him into the inner room.
Du Heng looked puzzled. “Why?”
“My second uncle is a butcher. He’s spent half his life slaughtering animals—he’s fierce! If he hits you, how many blows could your body take?”
Xiaoman shut the door. “Just trust me on this. Lock the latch.”
Before Du Heng could speak, he heard Xiaoman leave the room. Outside, a rough voice shouted:
“Xiaoman, open the door!”
“You brought a man home? Where is he?”
Du Heng heard footsteps approaching.
Xiaoman glared at Zhao Qi, who was trailing behind Qin Xiong. “What man?”
“You even set two bowls for dinner—you can’t deny it!”
Qin Xiong, entering the house, noticed the clothes hanging under the eaves. He didn’t see the undergarments, but he assumed the worst and instantly got angry. “Clothes hanging under the eaves! What kind of behavior is this?!”
Qin Xiaoman said, “Where else could I hang clothes on a rainy day if not under the eaves?”
“You… you actually say that with a straight face?” Qin Xiong fumed, flailing his hand. Not seeing anyone at first, he stormed through the house looking around. “Where is that man hiding? Bring him out!”
Xiaoman held back, refusing to speak, letting his uncle search the house while he casually sat back down and continued his meal.
“Xiaoman, don’t make your second uncle angry. He’s only doing this for your own good. Let the man come out,” Zhao Qi urged.
Xiaoman slammed his chopsticks on the table. “You still have the nerve to talk!”
He made a move as if to go hit Zhao Qi, but Qin Xiong grabbed him.
“If it weren’t for Zhao Qi telling me, I wouldn’t even know about this!” Qin Xiong said, growing angrier. “You’re completely lawless! Bringing a man home and hiding him so long—if this gets out, who’d want to marry you?”
Xiaoman’s face hardened. “Whether it spreads or not, no one’s marrying me. I’m just planning for my own future.”
Qin Xiong gritted his teeth. “I have wider connections than you. If you wanted a live-in husband, I could’ve inquired for you. Was it necessary for you to go find one yourself? What if you brought back someone with bad intentions?”
“He’s going to live with me, not with you. Why can’t I choose myself?”
“You think you can push me around because I don’t dare hit you?”
Xiaoman set down his chopsticks. “Then hit me, second uncle. I can take it.”
“You little brat! Where’s my bamboo stick?”
Qin Xiong’s eyes bulged with anger. Zhao Qi had meant to step forward and reason, but seeing Qin Xiong’s fierce demeanor, he shrank back by the door, muttering weakly.
Chaos reigned inside the house.
Qin Xiong, unable to find his bamboo stick, grabbed a shoe from the floor to strike Xiaoman. Xiaoman didn’t resist, sitting rigidly in his chair.
Qin Xiong, known for his temper, slammed the shoe down. Xiaoman furrowed his brow but felt no pain.
Confused, he looked up and saw Du Heng standing in front of him, taking the blow on his shoulder instead.
Xiaoman’s eyes widened in disbelief.
“Hit me instead. He’s just a kid; he doesn’t understand,” Du Heng said.