Chapter 7: Acting Stupid
Jiang Changxin was about to step down from the sedan chair when the corner of his clothing had already touched the ground. One of his attendants said, “Young master, don’t make the old master worry. We’d better return.”
Jiang Changxin did not respond and returned to the sedan chair. The heavy curtains of the chair blocked his face completely, revealing only that corner of clothing and a hand with clearly defined bones. Beyond that, nothing else could be seen.
Soon, the sedan chair left the dilapidated small noodle stall, surrounded by attendants, heading back to the Jiang family estate.
Zhang Zhiyuan watched the sedan chair fade into the distance and sighed, “What a pity. We should have properly thanked Young Master Jiang. Ye Ning, you don’t know—apart from… well, he’s a little foolish… actually, his character is noble. More importantly, the Jiang family’s upbringing is completely different from the Zhou family’s.”
“Apart from?” Naturally, Zhang Zhiyuan meant aside from the fact that Jiang Changxin was a little simple-minded…
Ye Ning withdrew his gaze. He really had no interest in Jiang Changxin. After all, Jiang Changxin was the main character, and he was merely a supporting character. Their paths didn’t intersect, and he only wanted to live quietly here without worrying about anything else.
Right now, the most important thing was the small noodle stall.
Ye Ning said, “Let’s get the stall in order.”
“Ah!” Zhang Zhiyuan responded enthusiastically. Although he was a scholar, he wasn’t so delicate as to avoid physical labor. He was clearly used to helping with chores at home and busied himself without complaint.
By the time evening fell, Zhang Zhiyuan looked outside and said, “It’s getting late. Let’s head back and continue organizing tomorrow.”
Ye Ning was a Ger, and Zhang Zhiyuan was a male scholar trained in etiquette. Naturally, he could not spend the night outside with a Ger, even if they were cousins.
The two returned home, planning to resume tidying the stall the next day. Ye Ning had observed the stall: though small, it had everything necessary. In front was the noodle counter, now only with one table, but if arranged tightly, it could hold three. Behind it was a tiny room, just enough space to turn around, yet sufficient for Ye Ning to live in without needing to return to the Ye family.
Ye Ning had originally transmigrated to this world. Father Ye and Mother Ye were not his real parents, and he sensed from their words and behavior that they considered him a burden—a Ger incapable of bearing children, bringing shame to the family. Accustomed to surviving alone in the post-apocalyptic world, he didn’t miss this kind of familial attachment. He decided that once the stall was ready, he would move out and avoid unnecessary frustrations.
The two returned to the Ye household. Mother Ye was feeding the only male in the family, cradling him tenderly. Her eyes, narrowed into slits from her smile, caught sight of Ye Ning and quickly pulled the food back, as if she didn’t want him to see—it was a bowl of meat.
The Ye family was not wealthy. Cured meat hanging under the eaves would last a long time before it could be eaten. Any piece obtained was reserved for the family’s most precious male, because only male heirs carried the family’s hope. The Gers were meant to marry out and were of lower priority.
The meat had only been boiled, releasing a strong fishy, gamey smell. Ye Ning frowned slightly, feeling no appetite at all. Ye Zhu, standing nearby, stared longingly, silently swallowing but not daring to argue with Mother Ye.
Ye Zhu shifted his attention and spoke teasingly, “Ah, Ning Ger is back. The sky’s so late—I thought… hehe, you were going to spend the night outside with Cousin Zhang! You didn’t make it to the Zhou family, but you don’t have to go to such extremes!”
Zhang Zhiyuan blushed deeply at this, shaking his hands repeatedly. “I study the teachings of the sages; I could never commit such a breach of propriety!”
Ye Ning, noticing how Ye Zhu’s words belittled Zhang Zhiyuan, said calmly, “You’d better be careful with your words. Cousin still has exams to take—don’t come back and try to change your tune after he passes.”
“Pfft!” Ye Zhu scoffed, muttering, “Poor scholar, poor scholar—gets more pedantic the more he studies!”
His eyes shifted, and he added, “How’s your noodle stall coming along? Don’t tell me you came back just to grab some things. I’m just saying—Father and Mother gave you the stall to train yourself and focus. Don’t think you can take a bit of meat or even a grain of rice from our house!”
At this, Mother Ye paused mid-feed, lifting her head to glare at Ye Ning.
“Yes!” she said, as if a nerve had been struck. “The stall is yours to manage as you like, but don’t even think about taking anything from the Ye household—no noodles, no rice, and certainly no meat!”
She said this while shoving the meat into Sanlang’s mouth, worried that Ye Ning might try to take it, nearly choking the precious boy.
Father Ye, always the “fair” one and concerned with maintaining face, sighed deeply. He spoke with the air of a seasoned elder: “Ning Ger, since the stall has been given to you, it’s yours. You’ll have to handle everything yourself. Never expect the family to do it for you. Back when I herded cattle, there was no one to rely on—everything depended on yourself.”
Ye Ning finally understood. Mother Ye was afraid he would ask for things, and Father Ye spoke a heap of high-minded principles. Though their words were confusing, their refusal was obvious—they were both clearly worried that Ye Ning would take the household’s rice, flour, or other food to the noodle stall.
Ye Ning found it somewhat amusing and said, “Please rest assured, Father and Mother. Since the noodle stall has been given to me, I will take care of it properly. I won’t cause trouble for anyone, nor will I take even a single grain of rice or a pinch of flour from others.”
Mother Ye beamed. “That’s exactly what you said!”
Father Ye said, “See, you’re speaking sensibly. Even though your engagement was broken off, we are still a family. I’m not heartless; I just want you to gain some experience. As long as you understand that principle, that’s enough.”
Ye Ning did not respond further. He said instead, “By tomorrow, the noodle stall will be ready. There’s a small room in the back where I can stay. Running back and forth would only be exhausting, so I won’t return to stay at home.”
Hearing that he would not take anything from the household, Father and Mother Ye were delighted. They did not care whether Ye Ning stayed outside or not. Waving their hands, they turned to feed the family’s only male child, fussing over him and keeping him happy.
Ye Ning returned to his own room. There was a knock at the door—someone standing there, not barging in. It was his cousin, Zhang Zhiyuan.
Ye Ning stepped out and said, “Thank you for your hard work today, Cousin. Why didn’t you rest earlier? Do you still have business to attend to?”
Zhang Zhiyuan furrowed his brows so tightly it almost looked like a twisted rope, hesitating as he said, “Ye Ning, don’t take it to heart. Actually, what Uncle and Aunt mean is…”
Ye Ning almost laughed. Even “his own family” didn’t care about him, and yet Zhang Zhiyuan had come to console him.
“I’m not taking it to heart,” Ye Ning said.
Zhang Zhiyuan didn’t believe him. After all, Gers were delicate, and their thoughts were subtle. He seemed to remember something, rummaged in his repeatedly patched sleeve pocket for a while, and finally pulled out a handful of copper coins. Not nearly enough to string together, just a few scattered coins clutched in his hand.
“I’ve managed to get a small job at the Jiang family,” Zhang Zhiyuan said. “This is some money I withdrew in advance. Most of it I spent on paper and brushes. Only this little bit is left. The noodle stall just opened, and you’re bound to need cash. Take these for now.”
He tried to hand the coins to Ye Ning, but Ye Ning stepped back, refusing to take them.
Zhang Zhiyuan grew anxious. “Even though it’s just a little—”
“I’m not rejecting the money because it’s too little,” Ye Ning said calmly. “These coins are earned by your hard work. You still have exams to prepare for, and there will be plenty of opportunities to use money later. You should save it for yourself.”
“But you…” Zhang Zhiyuan hesitated, unsure whether to bring it up. He worried about hurting Ye Ning’s feelings. Father and Mother Ye had so decisively refused to help a fragile Ger like Ye Ning—how could he possibly manage a noodle stall?
The previous Ye Ning had been a doormat in the Ye household for years but had managed to save a little. He usually sold braided grass ropes for money. These coins were few, but with careful budgeting, it would be enough to run the stall. Ye Ning had survived hardship in the post-apocalyptic world; a little challenge like this was nothing.
Ye Ning’s face was delicate, his frame like a willow at the village entrance, seemingly fragile enough to break in a strong wind. Yet he was composed and calm, inexplicably reassuring. He smiled lightly and said, “Cousin, rest assured. I have my own method.”
*
“The young master has returned!”
“Old master! Master! The young master has returned!”
A sedan chair, surrounded by attendants, was carried into the Jiang family mansion. It wound past the shadow wall, through the side corridors, and finally stopped in the courtyard in front of the main hall. The bearers lowered the chair, and a servant lifted the curtain. That same sharply jointed hand pushed the curtain aside as he bowed and stepped out.
Jiang Changxin was probably around twenty. Inside the sedan chair, his height and build were hidden, but once he stepped out, his tall, upright figure was apparent. His broad shoulders contrasted with his lean, narrow waist, and even just from his back, he looked like a refined young master of extraordinary bearing.
“Xin’er has returned?”
The old master, leaning on his cane, personally came out from the main hall to greet him. Old Master Jiang and the matriarch of the Jiang family followed closely behind.
The matriarch stepped forward to support Jiang Changxin. “Child, where have you been? The sun is almost down, and you still haven’t returned home. Your grandfather is worried—don’t make anyone fret!”
Master Jiang had the air of a stern elder, cold on the outside but caring inside. Seeing Changxin unharmed, he relaxed and snorted, saying, “You have no sense of discipline. I told you to study at home, yet you sneak out each day to play, causing worry for your mother and grandfather!”
The matriarch, however, defended her son. “Alright, alright, master. Xin’er is unharmed. Isn’t that what matters? He just… he just can’t sit still with the boredom at home.”
She paused, searching for the right words.
Why couldn’t Jiang Changxin sit still at home? The reason was obvious—he was, after all, considered a fool.
Jiang Changxin was different from others. The villagers of Qingtian Village laughed at him as the foolish son of a landlord. He was handsome, tall, and upright, but he was a fool—unable to comprehend reason. When others spoke, he would just smile. Even if they insulted him as an idiot or a simpleton to his face, Jiang Changxin would only grin foolishly.
Just as now, Master Jiang scolded him in an urgent, stern tone, yet Jiang Changxin only looked at him with a silly smile, seemingly unaware of the reproach. He even tilted his head and blinked innocently, his sharp eagle-like eyes betraying a faint, foolish daze.
Master Jiang pointed at him in frustration. “You!”
Finally, the Old Master spoke. “Enough. Xin’er is unharmed, and he’s been tired all day.”
He turned to the attendant. “Help the young master back to rest.”
The servant replied promptly, “Yes, Old Master.”
The servant guided Jiang Changxin gently as the group returned to his private courtyard. The other servants stayed at the entrance, while only the attendant who had carried the sedan followed into the main house.
The moment Jiang Changxin stepped inside, the foolish grin disappeared from his face. His lips pressed into a firm line, the habitual downward curve lending gravity to his sharp and handsome features. The light in his eyes faded, replaced by the calculating glare of eagle-like eyes, faintly revealing a sense of severity and sharpness.
No matter how one looked at him now, he no longer seemed like a fool.
“Close the door,” Jiang Changxin said in a low, commanding voice.
The attendant moved quickly, shutting the door and latching it before stepping forward.
He stood before Jiang Changxin with even greater respect than before. His face was slightly troubled, as if he had a question he could not keep to himself. Bowing his head slightly, he said, “Master, usually you do not concern yourself with the trivial matters of the village… but today—”
He hesitated, then continued, “Master, with regard to Ning Ger, it seems you make an exception?”
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