Both of them had earned some money, and Kang He was preparing to buy some things to take back to the mountains, but Fan Jing stopped him.
In the past, Fan Jing would return home every five or six days when he went into the mountains, or at most ten days if the hunting was good.
It had been nearly ten days since they left home for the mountains, and the dried rations they brought should have run out long ago.
However, Kang He always bought some supplies in town to take back, which was why they had managed to eat for so long.
Fan Jing figured they still had one or two days’ worth of rations left in the mountains.
Once those were gone, it would be a good time to head back home, as staying away too long might worry the family.
If Kang He bought more food now, they’d have to stay in the mountains even longer.
Kang He listened and thought it made sense.
So, the two of them ate a couple of steamed cakes at a roadside stall and headed back to the mountains empty-handed.
On the first day of winter, around noon, Fan Jing and Kang He finished the last of their rations in the wooden cabin.
They packed up their things and descended the mountain.
When they reached the Fan household, the courtyard was unusually lively.
There were women and husbands chatting and joking around.
“Zhen’er, I’ve passed by your house a couple of times, but I never see your brother-in-law. Is he shyer than a little girl like you?” an adult teased the young girl.
Zhen’er, being sensitive, got upset by the teasing and, after feeding the chickens and ducks, hid inside the house, refusing to come out.
Qiao’er, always bold, spoke up to the teasing husband, “My brother-in-law is hardworking! When Big Brother goes to the mountains, he follows to help with the work. He’s not shy at all!”
Chen Shi came out from the house with tea for the visiting women and husbands, picking up on Qiao’er’s words.
“That Sanlang is dependable and hardworking. When our Dajing rushes to the mountains before the snow falls, Sanlang refuses to stay idle at home. He insists on going along to help, just to feel at ease.”
“You’ve got yourself a fine son-in-law. What good fortune!”
The women and husbands sipped Chen Shi’s tea, naturally saying kind things.
But in their hearts, they thought, ‘With such a good man, why would he fill the pit of a poor family like this? Couldn’t he have chosen a better match?’
Ever since Kang He joined the Fan family, Fan Shoulin had been more talkative when drinking with others, boasting about his tall, strong son-in-law, a capable worker.
Chen Shi also bragged to her regular companions that they only spent five guan to bring him into the family, not a penny more.
In the village, families with eligible sons or daughters felt a twinge of envy hearing this.
They asked those who had seen Kang He what he was like.
People were fair, saying Kang He was decent in appearance and ability, just a bit of a stammerer.
Those envious folks latched onto this flaw, and through gossip, Kang He was turned into a foolish, stuttering simpleton in the village’s rumors.
As the saying goes, an ugly daughter-in-law must eventually meet her in-laws, and a “foolish” son-in-law was bound to be a curiosity.
Just as they were chatting, Fan Jing opened the courtyard gate and stepped inside.
The group, laughing and talking, fell silent when they saw Fan Jing return.
Moments later, Kang He followed behind him into the house.
The group got a good look at the son-in-law.
His face was strikingly handsome, and he stood nearly a head taller than the already tall Fan Dajing.
With big eyes and a high nose, even in rough hemp clothes fresh from the mountains, he looked striking.
On his broad back, he carried a large basket of firewood, and on his shoulders, two sturdy bundles.
He wiped the sweat from his brow, revealing the prominent veins on the back of his hand.
The women and husbands stared, thinking, What a fine, sturdy young man!
“Goodness, why’d you bring so much stuff?” Chen Shi had been muttering to Fan Shoulin that morning about how Kang He and Fan Jing had been in the mountains for days, their rations likely gone, and yet they hadn’t returned.
But now, here they were.
“Dajing, did you get some good haul in the mountains this time?”
Fan Jing shook his head, set the basket down in the kitchen, and strode off to get some water.
The villagers were used to his temperament and thought nothing of it.
If he ever started chatting idly with them, that would make them think he was possessed.
Kang He, having learned some local dialect over time, picked things up quickly, especially when he put his mind to it.
By now, he could understand much of the conversation.
He knew what they were talking about but didn’t join in, just offering a polite smile.
He handed a basket to Chen Shi, who came to meet him.
“Fish caught in the mountains. Need to put them in fresh water to keep them alive.”
Chen Shi was surprised to hear Kang He speak so fluently.
She took the heavy basket.
“You two worked hard in the mountains. You could’ve cooked and eaten it yourselves. Why always think of bringing things home? We’ve got everything here.”
Kang He knew Chen Shi was just being polite.
“Mama’s cooking is the best.”
Chen Shi beamed at the flattery, delighted.
“Tonight, I’ll cook this fish for you and Dajing.”
Then she introduced the people in the courtyard to Kang He: this one’s an aunt, that one’s a cousin.
Kang He greeted them accordingly.
After dealing with the pleasantries, he finally went inside.
“Calling her ‘Mama’ already, Sanfang? What great luck you have!”
The group, who had thought Chen Shi was exaggerating about her son-in-law, now genuinely envied her.
“Who was the matchmaker for your family? Introduce them to me! My second son’s of age too.”
Chen Shi, surrounded by their questions, was secretly thrilled but kept a calm face.
“Give me some water too. It’s hot as hell.”
Kang He entered the main room and reached for Fan Jing’s water.
“You’re quick to learn the dialect and call people ‘Mama’ so smoothly,” Fan Jing said, finishing his bowl of water and setting it on the table without fetching another for Kang He.
Kang He grabbed the water jug, poured tea into the bowl Fan Jing had just used, and took a couple of sips.
He knew Fan Jing was teasing him about calling Chen Shi “Mama.”
“Did I get it wrong? Teach me again—what should I call her?”
Fan Jing didn’t take the bait.
“You’ve got her all happy. No need to go back to the mountains. Stay home a couple of days, and she’ll probably hand you back your contract.”
Kang He didn’t like hearing Fan Jing talk like that, as if he was always reminding him to leave.
But he also knew he’d said something similar before.
“Then maybe I should make you happy. In the Fan family, your word counts the most.”
Fan Jing didn’t respond.
Outside, the chatter died down, and Chen Shi invited the guests to stay for dinner, but no one felt comfortable lingering and left one by one.
Moments later, Chen Shi rushed back in, shouting, “Dajing, someone’s here for you!”
Wringing her hands, she lowered her voice and said to Fan Jing, “That Qin kid from Shangqiu Village is here!”
Fan Jing’s brow twitched, and he turned to go outside.
Kang He didn’t know who this “Qin kid” was or why he was looking for Fan Jing, but he didn’t follow like a clingy shadow.
Chen Shi, delighted, pulled Kang He aside to ask how he’d gotten so fluent.
She’d always thought Kang He didn’t seem foolish, but his speech had been a clear issue for the family.
Now, though still a bit halting, he spoke better than Fan Jing.
Today, in front of the villagers, it gave her so much face, and she couldn’t stop smiling.
Kang He gave his usual excuse about a head injury and said Fan Jing had been teaching him to speak again.
Chen Shi was skeptical—not about the injury, but about Fan Jing, who barely opened his mouth, patiently teaching Kang He to talk.
Still, Kang He’s improving speech was a blessing.
She whispered to him, “A while back, I had your and Dajing’s birth charts read. The old fortune-teller said you two are a good match and will have a good life together. I thought she was just after my money and didn’t fully believe her, but it seems she was right.”
Kang He gave a dry laugh.
“Maybe the marriage brought good luck.”
“Exactly, exactly!”
Though Kang He was chatting with Chen Shi, his mind wandered outside.
Unable to resist, he glanced out and saw a young man, about twenty-something, with a slightly sunburned but decent face.
His pant legs and sleeves were tightly bound, giving him a sharp, capable look, not unlike Fan Jing.
“Why are you here?” Fan Jing asked the visitor directly.
The young man, surnamed Qin, was visibly happy to see Fan Jing.
“I was passing through your village on my way back from the county and stopped by.”
He took a cloth-wrapped bundle from his back.
“I’ve been wanting to give you this. It’s hard to run into you in the mountains, so I thought I’d come to your house. I was worried you’d still be up there, but lucky me, you’re home.”
He scratched the back of his head shyly.
“I can give it to you myself.”
Fan Jing didn’t take it.
Young Qin quickly unwrapped the bundle, revealing a newly made longbow inside.
Seeing the fine deer sinew string, Fan Jing glanced at it.
“Why give me something so fine?”
Young Qin said, “No other meaning. I just thought you could use a good bow in the mountains.”
His voice lowered, bashful.
“Besides, you’re such a good shot.”
Fan Jing said flatly, “I injured my arm recently. Can’t use your fine bow. It’d be a waste. You keep it.”
Unbeknownst to him, Kang He had drifted to the doorway.
Their voices were low, and he couldn’t hear everything clearly, just bits about “thinking of you,” “so good,” and “a pity.”
A flood of emotions surged in Kang He’s heart, like a mountain torrent raging.
“Who is he?” Kang He asked Chen Shi urgently, turning back to her.
It was odd—Fan Jing didn’t invite the guest to sit, which was typical of his temperament, but even Chen Shi didn’t offer a cup of tea.
Chen Shi seized the chance to gossip quietly with Kang He.
“That young man was someone Dajing was once matched with. He’s also a hunter who makes a living in the mountains.”
“Previously matched?!” Kang He’s eyes widened.
“It didn’t work out?”
“Silly talk. If it had, how could we have gotten a fine son-in-law like you?” Chen Shi treated Kang He like family.
“That Qin kid, when he was seventeen or eighteen, was introduced to Dajing by a matchmaker.”
“The Qin kid really liked Dajing, sending things to our house every now and then. We thought he was enthusiastic, and Dajing wouldn’t suffer going to the Qin family. But who knew? The Qin family looked down on us, saying we were too poor, not a match for their status. They also said Dajing’s temperament was bad, too quiet, not virtuous enough.”
“The Qin kid was spineless, listened to his family, and married another family’s son.”
Kang He frowned.
“He’s married and still comes looking for Dajing?!”
“Well, bad luck. A couple of years after his marriage, his husband got sick and passed away, leaving no children. The Qin kid, widowed and seeing Dajing still unmarried, started coming around again.”
Chen Shi and Fan Shoulin had initially liked the Qin kid—decent, capable, and compatible with Fan Jing.
But after the Qin family’s rejection, Fan Shoulin, who valued face, couldn’t stand him.
Both parents were furious.
The Qin kid, after losing his husband, thought he could come back for their Dajing—like the Fan family was some fallback option.
For him to show up today was shameless.
In the past, Chen Shi wouldn’t have given him the time of day and might’ve even thrown some sarcasm his way.
But now, with a son-in-law in the family, Dajing wasn’t alone anymore.
Letting the Qin kid in today was Chen Shi’s ploy to have Kang He drive him off, letting him stew in frustration—a satisfying revenge for the humiliation the Qin family caused, which had made the Fans the butt of village jokes.
After explaining, Chen Shi egged Kang He on.
“Sanlang, go out there and show that Qin kid that Dajing’s with you now. Make sure he doesn’t have the nerve to come back to our door again.”
Kang He wanted the same—to keep the Qin kid away from Fan Jing.
But what right did he have?
He and Fan Jing weren’t truly married.
In the mountains, he could mouth off to pests like Sun Dasheng without fear, but this was different.
If he went out rashly and ruined Fan Jing’s prospects, wouldn’t Fan Jing resent him?
His mind raced. Earlier, when Fan Jing learned Kang He wanted to leave, he wasn’t surprised and even said he’d return Kang He’s contract once the bride price was repaid.
At the time, Kang He thought Fan Jing was just easygoing.
Now, he wondered if Fan Jing didn’t want to marry him because he already had someone else in mind.
This Qin kid was around Fan Jing’s age, and they shared the same trade.
They probably had plenty to talk about.
The thought felt like a wet cloth smothering his heart, a wave of loneliness washing over him.
Kang He mumbled, “I’ll go clean the fish for dinner.”
Chen Shi, expecting Kang He to go confront the Qin kid, was stunned to see him act so deflated.
She瞪d at him, thinking, ‘Does this guy have no backbone?’
“Why rush to clean the fish? Don’t you want to see what they’re talking about?”
“Whatever they’re saying is fine.”
Chen Shi caught the sour tone and gasped.
If she’d known he was so sensitive, she wouldn’t have said so much.
“That’s all in the past! Our family doesn’t recognize that guy. We only care about you.”
Kang He stayed silent.
Seeing him sulking in the house like a shy bride, Chen Shi thought, What a blockhead.
She slipped outside.
“Little Qin, haven’t seen you in a while!” she said.
Young Qin, embarrassed that Fan Jing wouldn’t take his bow, brightened at Chen Shi’s greeting.
“Been stuck in the mountains all autumn, so I haven’t had time to visit you and Uncle Fan.”
Chen Shi asked, “We’re all good. How’s your family?”
“Thanks for asking, ma’am. My parents are doing well.”
Chen Shi smiled.
“You’ve come all this way. Stay for dinner.”
Young Qin’s eyes lit up, thrilled at the invitation.
“Oh, that’s too kind.”
“Why not? Dajing and his Sanlang brought back some fish from the mountains. Sanlang’s in the kitchen preparing it now, saying he wants to treat you.”
Young Qin froze, looking at Fan Jing.
“San… Sanlang? Who’s that?”
Fan Jing didn’t know Chen Shi was stirring trouble and didn’t answer Young Qin’s frantic question.
Instead, hearing that Kang He was preparing fish for the guest, he took it seriously and glanced toward the kitchen, thinking, ‘Why’s he cooking for just anyone?’
Chen Shi grinned.
“You didn’t know, Little Qin? Sanlang’s our son-in-law. We’re holding a banquet at the year’s end. Come have a drink then.”
Young Qin felt as if a bucket of ice water had been dumped over his head, nearly knocking him off his feet.
Desperate, he asked Fan Jing, “Dajing, is… is this true?”
Fan Jing snapped back to reality.
Not wanting Young Qin to keep coming around, he nodded.
Young Qin’s heart churned with a hundred emotions.
He quickly said his goodbyes and left.
Chen Shi watched him slink off like a drenched dog, tail between his legs, and felt a weight lift from her chest.
“Dajing, you and Sanlang are together now. If that Qin kid comes looking for you again, don’t pay him any mind. Sanlang wouldn’t be happy about it.”
Fan Jing hadn’t paid much attention to Young Qin in the past.
They’d only talked a bit during their matchmaking days since they both made a living in the mountains.
After Young Qin got married, they’d lost contact for a long time.
Fan Jing only learned last year, when Young Qin found an excuse to meet, that his husband had passed away.
“Did you hear me?” Chen Shi pressed.
Fan Jing grunted.
“Good, you heard me.” Chen Shi added, “I’m off to the fields to pick some vegetables for dinner. Your father’s been working there half the day, and Zhen’er and Qiao’er should be back soon from gathering pig feed.”
Having stirred up trouble, Chen Shi slipped out. Unaware, Fan Jing walked back inside and immediately bumped into Kang He sitting on a stool.