The Wen family estate was a grand four-courtyard compound. Entering through the front gate, the main hall stood on the left, while the right housed the kitchens connected to a blooming garden.
A corridor ran down the middle, and once you passed the intricately carved chuihua gate, you entered the inner quarters.
The guest residence was located in the western wing.
The steward personally led Chu Xiangtian inside, made sure he was comfortably settled, and then arranged for two servants to stand by for orders before taking his leave.
Waving the servants off, Chu Xiangtian picked up a teacup from the table and examined it.
The Wen family really lived up to their reputation as Sifang Town’s wealthiest household—even the guest wing was furnished with exquisite care.
The blue-and-white porcelain teacup, patterned with twining branches, was smooth and translucent to the touch—clearly no ordinary item.
He poured himself a cup of tea and took a quiet sip, pondering his next steps.
What he’d said earlier to Fu Youqin wasn’t entirely made up. Zhou Chuanqing had already scouted the gold mine and gathered the details.
The labor force was large and disorganized, and government soldiers stood watch around the area. The mine itself was located between Sifang and Lehe Towns—neither could possibly be uninvolved.
In fact, this could go even deeper than expected. His task now was to find out just how entangled the Nanning Commandery was in this gold mine business.
It was tricky moving around as a bandit, but if he could take this opportunity to stay at the Wen residence, things would be different.
He’d already heard the rumors circulating outside—might as well use them as a convenient excuse to remain.
However…
Chu Xiangtian tapped his fingers on the table, a pleased smirk curling at his lips. That young master from the Wen family would probably be fuming again.
***
Meanwhile, in the eastern courtyard—
Laifu carried Wen Tian on his back and rushed home. The household doctor had been summoned in a panic and arrived promptly to re-examine him.
After redressing the wound, the doctor commented, “Whoever bandaged the young master did a fine job. The medicine used is excellent—the wound isn’t infected.
Just make sure not to get it wet. I’ll come back tomorrow to change the dressing.”
Wen Tian pouted unhappily. “Can’t we just change it now?” He didn’t want to use anything that bandit leader had touched.
“Well…” The doctor looked troubled.
“That medicine is better than anything I have. It’ll help you heal faster.”
Wen Tian wiggled his toes, clearly dissatisfied, but relented.
“Fine. We’ll wait till tomorrow.”
Once the doctor left, Wen Tian insisted on taking a bath. Truthfully, Chu Xiangtian had cleaned him up thoroughly the day before—but the mere thought of it made Wen Tian squirm.
Even the clothes on his body had belonged to that man. It was unbearable, like having an itch under his skin.
But with the doctor’s warning against water exposure, Laifu didn’t dare let him bathe properly. Instead, he had the servants bring in a large wooden tub for a sponge bath.
Behind a screen, Wen Tian removed his clothes. The bruises from the earlier impact no longer hurt as much. In fact, he was surprised to see they had faded significantly.
A few pale blotches were all that remained. That was definitely faster healing than he was used to—in the past, he’d stay black and blue for half a month.
He didn’t dwell on it, though. He let Laifu help him wash up and then complained his hair felt greasy and demanded it be washed too.
Laifu had no choice but to bring another basin of water, wash his hair, and wrap it in a soft towel.
After putting on a clean inner robe, Wen Tian felt like a whole new person—refreshed, light, and clean.
He threw on a light outer robe and went to sit by the window. Laifu followed behind with a towel to help dry his hair.
***
Chu Xiangtian, with nothing better to do, asked a servant where Wen Tian’s courtyard was and casually strolled over.
As soon as he entered, he spotted Wen Tian sitting by the window.
The young man’s long black hair was damp and loose around his shoulders, his delicate features still kissed with steam.
Wearing a loose inner robe beneath a pale blue outer layer, he leaned against the windowsill with one elbow, gazing out with clear, glossy eyes—right at Chu Xiangtian.
Chu Xiangtian had just opened his mouth to speak when he saw those bright eyes widen, followed quickly by a flash of annoyance. Then came the sharp, angry question:
“Why are you still here?!”
Chu Xiangtian almost laughed. He found the boy’s pouty anger absurdly cute and decided to tease him.
“Madam Fu said I could stay in the residence for a few days—and in your courtyard, no less.”
“WHAT?!” Wen Tian shot to his feet, nearly toppling out the window. He glared at Chu Xiangtian like a furious little kitten.
“Absolutely not! There’s no room for you here!”
Chu Xiangtian put on a show of distress.
“But Madam said…”
“I only have spare rooms for servants or a study with a bamboo couch!” Wen Tian cut him off.
There was no way he’d let this man sleep in the servant’s room, and that bamboo couch was good for a nap—not a night’s sleep. He assumed Chu Xiangtian would back off now.
With a smug little smile, Wen Tian said, “I hear there’s a nice inn in town…”
“I’ll take the study,” Chu Xiangtian replied cheerfully. He gave a polite bow.
“Thank you for your hospitality, Young Master Wen.”
The smile on Wen Tian’s face vanished instantly. He stared at Chu Xiangtian like he was possessed, then let out a frustrated snort and flopped back into his seat.
“Fine, sleep there if you want!”
Another tantrum successfully provoked. Chu Xiangtian found it more and more entertaining.
He leisurely sat in the pavilion opposite the window, sipping tea served by the servants, completely at ease and looking far too pleased with himself.
As the sun dipped below the horizon, the kitchen prepared an elaborate banquet to welcome Wen Tian home. Since he couldn’t walk properly, Laifu arranged for two strong servants to carry him over in a sedan chair.
Given the sensitivity of Chu Xiangtian’s identity, Fu Youqin had a separate meal sent to him under the pretense of it being a “family dinner,” excluding him entirely.
For the first time in a long while, the family of four was seated at the same table—but the atmosphere was anything but harmonious.
Wen Boli sat alone at the head of the table. Fu Youqin didn’t take her usual seat as matriarch; instead, she sat beside Wen Tian, with Wenshuyue on his other side.
The three huddled close, deliberately leaving Wen Boli out.
Halfway through the meal, Wen Boli claimed he wasn’t feeling well and left.
Wen Tian smirked slightly, then looked at his mother, half-curious and half-probing.
“Mother, what got you so angry this time?”
Fu Youqin sighed deeply, her brows furrowed with worry. She looked at her son with deep affection.
“I just… feel like your father isn’t the same man he used to be.”
She had been married to Wen Boli for eighteen years. Before and after marriage, he had always respected and loved her, doted on their children—especially Wen Tian.
She never imagined that when danger struck, Wen Boli would hesitate… even consider abandoning their son.
That realization stabbed at her like a thorn. The more loving and attentive he’d seemed in the past, the more absurd and hurtful his recent behavior now felt.
Fu Youqin didn’t want to believe her husband was that kind of man—but this time, his actions truly disappointed her.
Wen Tian held her hand and whispered, “People change.”
“Maybe…” Fu Youqin smiled faintly, her eyes distant.
“Let’s not talk about sad things. Let’s eat.”
After dinner, Wen Boli sent a servant to summon Wen Tian to the study.
The three exchanged looks. Fu Youqin gently caressed Wen Tian’s cheek.
“Go on. He’s still your father. Don’t let my anger cloud your heart.”
Wen Tian nodded obediently and made his way to the study.
The servants helped him into a chair. Wen Boli stood with his back to the window, brooding. When he turned around, there was an uncharacteristic tenderness in his eyes.
“Those bandits dared lay a hand on you!”
“I fell. It was my own fault.”
Wen Tian stared at him calmly. On the way back, he’d already guessed what Wen Boli might say.
Sure enough, Wen Boli’s outrage faltered at those words. He looked awkward, then quickly changed the topic.
“The doctor checked you? Nothing serious?”
“He did. I’m fine.” Wen Tian’s replies were brief and cold, a far cry from the respectful, adoring son he used to be.
Wen Boli studied him with a trace of unease, then sighed.
“Did your mother say something to you? I know… she’s still angry at me.”
Wen Tian’s eyes snapped up sharply, a sudden cold glint in them. Wen Boli flinched, but when he looked again, Wen Tian’s expression was as serene as ever.
“She wanted to hire local men to rescue you. I didn’t agree, and she’s been upset for days. Even your sister won’t speak to me.”
Wen Tian lowered his gaze without responding. Not knowing if he was being heard, Wen Boli continued, “But those West Mountain bandits are vicious.”
“Who could we trust to save you? Only the government had the power to intervene. If they hadn’t stepped in, would you have come back so safely?”
That almost made Wen Tian laugh out loud.
He looked up seriously and asked, “But wasn’t it Mother who forced the government’s hand by confronting them with the ledgers?”
“Wasn’t it also her who climbed the mountain with the soldiers to fight the bandits? Where were you then? How could you let her go up there alone?”
Wen Boli’s face turned red, mouth opening and closing without a sound.
Wen Tian felt only cold contempt. This man didn’t love them. That’s why he never truly cared about their lives.
He’d worn his perfect mask for years, but the moment real danger struck, the cracks showed.
It’s during hardship that a person’s true heart is revealed.
Wen Tian rubbed his forehead, his voice weary.
“I’m tired. I’d like to rest.”
Wen Boli tried to speak again, but Wen Tian had already called the servant in, giving him no chance.
As the sedan chair carried him away, a loud “bang” echoed from the study behind him. But Wen Tian, far from weary now, smiled brightly.
It was time to quietly tell his mother the truth.
On his way back, he passed by the study and noticed the lamp was still lit. A tall shadow moved behind the paper window.
Wen Tian, in an unusually good mood, couldn’t help thinking: If it hadn’t been for Chu Xiangtian stirring things up, it would’ve taken a lot more effort to expose Wen Boli’s hypocrisy.
His grudge against Chu Xiangtian suddenly felt much lighter.
After returning to his room, he specifically asked Laifu to deliver two thick quilts to the study.
Chu Xiangtian had just been about to lie down. The bamboo couch was a bit hard, but for someone used to sleeping in battlefields, it was practically luxurious.
Laifu arrived with the bedding and knocked.
Raising an eyebrow, Chu Xiangtian asked, “What’s this?”
“Young Master sent it for you,” Laifu replied.
He’d always taken Wen Tian’s side—when Wen Tian disliked Chu Xiangtian, Laifu had shown him no kindness either. Now, although he wasn’t sure what had changed, he was noticeably more polite.
“Please thank Young Master Wen for me,” Chu Xiangtian said as he took the quilts, still faintly scented with herbs.
As he spread them over the bed, his smile deepened.
A prickly little hedgehog on the outside… but soft as a dumpling on the inside.