Chapter 22: If you want, then do as you say.

Once the Fan family returned home, everyone, with full stomachs, went about their own business.

Kang He also prepared to go to Fan Jing’s room to pack up the bedding.

Later, when everyone in the house had gone to sleep, he would quietly move to another room to rest.

Given the current state of affairs with Fan Jing, it was naturally not appropriate to continue sharing a room with him.

Kang He could shamelessly stay, but he feared getting too close would only annoy Fan Jing further.

Entering the room, he saw Fan Jing sitting by the table, head slightly lowered, quietly sitting there, lost in thought.

He didn’t even glance up when Kang He came in.

Kang He felt a pang of discomfort in his heart.

He dawdled, slowly gathering the bedding and blanket he had placed at the foot of the bed earlier, setting them on a stool, hoping Fan Jing might ask him something.

But Fan Jing carried on as if Kang He were invisible.

Kang He’s heart soured with frustration, and he turned to give Fan Jing a resentful glare.

Yet, Fan Jing seemed frozen, still in the same position as when Kang He had entered.

Puzzled, Kang He couldn’t help but sneak closer to take a look.

Fan Jing, who spent much of his time outdoors, weathered by wind and sun, had a complexion not particularly fair, more like ripened wheat—healthy and vibrant.

Up close, Kang He noticed that Fan Jing’s usually cool, wheat-colored face was now faintly flushed.

That day at the main house, Fan Jing hadn’t spoken a single word to him.

Kang He was busy dealing with the crowd there, barely able to spare a moment.

Ever since their earlier conversation, they had been like strangers all afternoon.

At dinner, Fan Jing drank several bowls of wine in a row. Kang He knew Fan Jing could handle his liquor, but back in the mountains, he drank sparingly—a single gourd of weak wine could last him ten days.

It was less about drinking and more about savoring the taste.

Ever since Kang He learned that Fan Jing liked sweets, he would always bring a bag of candied fruits from the city.

Fan Jing enjoyed them even more when drinking.

The gourd of wine they brought to the mountains still had at least half left by the time they came down this time.

The wine at the main house, Kang He could tell by the smell, was much stronger than what Fan Jing drank in the mountains.

Downing several bowls in quick succession was bound to make anyone drunk.

Kang He’s brow furrowed, and he couldn’t help but ask, “Fan Jing, are you drunk?”

“Should I make you a bowl of ginger soup to sober you up?”

Hearing his voice, Fan Jing slowly raised his head to look at him, his eyes carrying a hint of warmth, the corners slightly red.

He said, “I’m not drunk.”

A faint smell of alcohol drifted to Kang He’s nose.

Only someone drunk would insist they weren’t, so Kang He didn’t respond.

Worried Fan Jing might get a stomachache later, he decided to prepare the soup anyway.

As he turned toward the door, Fan Jing called out to him.

“I’m really not drunk. Just feeling a bit warm in the face.”

Kang He paused, hearing the tone of Fan Jing’s voice, now even more convinced he was drunk.

But it was odd—Fan Jing wasn’t loud or rowdy when drunk.

He had managed to walk back steadily despite the slippery roads.

If it weren’t for his flushed face, it would’ve been hard to tell.

Seeing Fan Jing stubbornly refuse to admit it, Kang He went along with him.

“My mistake, I thought you were drunk. You’ve got a strong tolerance—drinking all that and still fine.”

After a couple of placating words, seeing Fan Jing’s mood stabilize, Kang He was about to go make the soup when Fan Jing called out again, “Where are you going?”

“I’m going to the kitchen to get some hot water. It’s so cold—how can you sleep without soaking your feet?”

Fan Jing stood up, intending to follow.

Kang He quickly said, “I’ll get it for you. Just wait a moment.”

Fan Jing frowned and grabbed Kang He’s arm.

“I’m not washing.”

His grip was surprisingly strong, causing Kang He to stumble.

“Fine, you don’t have to wash, but I do.”

Fan Jing didn’t let go.

He glanced at the neatly packed bedding on the stool.

“Where are you going to sleep?”

At the mention of this, Kang He’s heart ached.

He softened his voice.

“Once they’re all asleep, I’ll go to the west room to sleep on the floor.”

Fan Jing stared into Kang He’s eyes and, after a long pause, said, “You’re not allowed to go.”

Kang He was stunned.

But then again, the west room was the new room the family had prepared for Fan Jing.

Sleeping there on the floor might not be appropriate, especially since Fan Jing would eventually share it with someone else.

But if not there, was he supposed to sleep in the kitchen?

“Then where do you want me to sleep?”

Fan Jing’s brow twitched, but he didn’t answer.

Suddenly, he went to close the door, locking it from the inside with a click.

Returning, he said to Kang He, “I’m going to sleep.”

With that, he kicked off his shoes and climbed into bed.

Kang He stood there, dumbfounded.

He had thought Fan Jing, even when drunk, was well-behaved—not talkative or erratic.

But it seemed the real surprise was waiting for him here.

He walked to the bedside.

“You’re going to sleep with your face and feet unwashed? Give me the key, and I’ll get water to clean you up.”

The man on the bed, eyes closed, didn’t open them.

As Kang He spoke, Fan Jing tucked the key under his back.

This was outright shameless!

Kang He bent down to snatch the key, but Fan Jing slyly kicked him, causing Kang He to lose balance and fall onto him.

Their foreheads collided with a thud.

Kang He rubbed his forehead as he got up.

“If you won’t give me the key, I can’t soak my feet, and it’s freezing. If I can’t sleep on the floor in your room, then I’ll just sleep in your bed.”

To his surprise, Fan Jing, unfazed by the threat, actually shifted inward to make room.

Kang He stood by the bed, dumbfounded, thinking Fan Jing’s behavior when drunk was worse than he’d imagined.

Who was the one who rejected him earlier that day?

Yet now, drunk, he was willing to share a bed.

Kang He felt a spark of anger.

If he were a proper person, he would…

But looking at Fan Jing lying there, cheeks flushed, breathing steadily, Kang He sighed softly.

What could he do?

Nothing but pull the blanket over them both and call it a night.

…

The next morning, Fan Jing woke with a dull ache from the previous night’s drinking.

Sitting up in bed, he noticed it wasn’t fully light outside, the room dim.

Kang He was still asleep on the floor.

His mouth was dry from the wine, so he quietly got out of bed to get some water.

At the door, he realized it was locked from the inside.

Frowning, he instinctively glanced back at Kang He on the floor.

He couldn’t quite recall why the door was locked.

As he puzzled over it, a voice came from behind.

“Can’t find the key?”

Fan Jing turned to see Kang He, who moments ago was asleep, now awake, nestled in his blanket, lazily watching him with a slight smile.

“Check the bed.”

Fan Jing felt something was off but returned to the bed.

Lifting the blanket, he found the key.

Kang He watched him hold the key, dazed, and chuckled inwardly.

“You were drunk last night, you know that?”

Fully awake now, Fan Jing didn’t deny it, giving a soft “mm.”

“Do you remember what you did?”

Fan Jing looked at Kang He.

“I said I was going to sleep elsewhere, but someone wouldn’t let me, locked the door, hid the key, and made me sleep in their bed.” Kang He had waited until Fan Jing was asleep to sneak the key, unlock the door, and get water to clean his face and feet.

Teasingly, he added, “I don’t know if some people just love locking others in when they’re drunk, or if they just couldn’t bear to let me go.”

Hearing about his drunken antics, Fan Jing didn’t seem embarrassed.

Instead of unlocking the door, he sat back down on the bed, looking at Kang He.

Seeing Fan Jing’s calm demeanor, Kang He stopped his teasing, suddenly wary of Fan Jing’s serious expression.

He feared Fan Jing might say something that would overwhelm him.

“Those words you said yesterday—I heard them.”

Kang He’s heart skipped, thinking, ‘Here it comes.’

But he was slightly confused.

“What words?”

Fan Jing looked straight into Kang He’s eyes.

“You said you like me.”

Kang He’s heart jumped.

He hadn’t expected that to be it.

He hadn’t been drunk when he said it, yet Fan Jing acted as if he hadn’t heard it before.

Seeing Kang He silent, Fan Jing continued, “Do you stand by it?”

“How could I not? I’m not some fickle person who spouts sweet words to deceive others.”

Fan Jing paused, then said, “If you’re willing, then it’s as you said.”

Kang He froze.

“What… what do you mean?”

“I’m saying, as you said before, if you’re willing, I’ll go along with it.”

Kang He’s heart raced.

He hurriedly said, “Since I said it, of course I’m willing. The question is whether you are!”

Fan Jing looked at Kang He’s earnest expression and nodded.

“You’re really willing to be with me?” Kang He asked, then, fearing he sounded too forceful, added, “I mean, I’m willing to give it a try.”

Fan Jing said, “If that’s what you mean, I agree. If it’s something else, pretend I didn’t say anything.”

“That’s exactly what I mean—wanting to live together with you!” Kang He was overcome with joy, his tone brimming with excitement.

He leapt up from the floor.

“Fan Jing, you’re not still drunk, are you? No, no, even if it’s drunken talk, it still counts!”

Yesterday, when Kang He had confessed, Fan Jing had been caught off guard, unable to respond immediately.

It wasn’t until later that he sorted out his feelings.

At the main house, surrounded by people, Kang He hadn’t spoken to him, making Fan Jing wonder if those words were just a spur-of-the-moment outburst.

So, at dinner, he drank a bit more, only to end up drunk.

He had thought that speaking his heart would be straightforward, no big deal.

But seeing Kang He so thrilled, asking repeatedly, Fan Jing found it hard to speak up again.

“Why aren’t you answering? Are you trying to drive me mad?”

Fan Jing glanced at Kang He.

“I’m not drunk anymore. What I’ve said, I won’t easily take back.”

With such a firm reply, Kang He felt like he was floating.

He had thought he’d be turned away, but now things had taken a bright turn.

He desperately wanted to know if Fan Jing agreed because he felt the same or was just going along to get by.

Either way, Kang He was happy with the former and undeterred by the latter.

As long as Fan Jing let him stay, there would be plenty of time ahead.

That morning, the Fan family noticed Kang He was unusually cheerful, humming an unfamiliar tune, though no one knew why.

Fan Jing, as always, kept his usual stoic demeanor, a man who could keep things to himself.

This time down the mountain, Kang He and Fan Jing stayed two nights before returning.

Before leaving, Fan Jing asked if the family had paid their taxes and gave Chen Shi five hundred coins.

Chen Shi, surprised by Fan Jing’s generosity, asked if it was for a banquet.

She and Fan Shoulin had been thinking about it but hadn’t dared to plan without the money, fearing Fan Jing might back out.

“The new house needs money too,” Fan Jing said. He had given the money for the new room.

Earlier, thinking Kang He might leave, he had been hesitant and standoffish with Chen Shi.

Now, giving the money was his way of accepting the new room.

Chen Shi was delighted.

“Your father put in a lot of effort, and it didn’t cost much.”

She pocketed the money and asked Fan Jing what else was needed, so she could prepare it for their next visit.

Fan Jing told her to handle it as she saw fit, and Chen Shi agreed readily.

“What about the banquet…” Fan Shoulin, still worried about the event, had bragged to his friends but was cut off by Chen Shi’s elbow.

Fan Jing understood his father’s meaning and said coolly, “We’ll talk next time.”

Chen Shi glared at Fan Shoulin, thinking that with so much money for the house, surely there’d be enough for a banquet.

“Just asking,” Fan Shoulin said.

“If we’re holding a banquet, we need to prepare early. Prices rise around the new year.”

Chen Shi replied, “When the time comes, we’ll slaughter a pig from our pen. No need to worry about outside prices.”

Fan Shoulin had no more to say.

As long as the banquet was happening, that was enough.

Fan Jing left the house, and Kang He was waiting outside.

Seeing him, Kang He asked, “All settled?”

Fan Jing nodded.

Kang He breathed a sigh of relief.

He had urged Fan Jing to discuss the new house with Chen Shi and Fan Shoulin.

Though they were family, some things needed to be said openly to avoid resentment over time.

The family had put effort into the new room, and expressing satisfaction would make them happy too.

The next morning, the two headed back to the mountains.

After two days of rain, the mountain paths were muddy, but thankfully not too trampled since few traveled in the rain.

Each carrying a basket, they brought plenty of dried food, planning to stay until the snow fell before coming down again, likely not returning to the mountains this year.

Together, they could look out for each other, unlike when Fan Jing was alone, giving the family peace of mind about his longer stays.

“When we have more money, we’ll buy a mule to carry things up and down the mountain. It’ll make things easier,” Kang He mused.

Fan Jing replied, “We’ll see.”

The family had long wanted a large animal—cow, donkey, or mule—to help with plowing or carrying loads.

Every farmer dreamed of such help, but money was always tight.

Listening to Kang He plan for the future, Fan Jing felt a quiet sense of stability.

Kang He fell silent, knowing they couldn’t afford it now, especially with big expenses looming by year’s end.

But with both of them working together, life would surely get better.