Bullshit! As if you could forget—in your dreams!
Zhou Liu-lang gritted his teeth. So what if I took one of your maids? How come you still remember and hold a grudge till now?
“Cheng Jiao-niang, stop playing dumb,” he said. “You remember every little slight others have done to you, yet you forget all the debts you owe?”
“Who do I owe?” Cheng Jiao-niang asked.
“You!” Zhou Liu-lang glared.
“Do I owe you? And yet you dare shout in my face?” Cheng Jiao-niang retorted. “Even if I owe someone else, and they don’t care, what’s it to you?”
The maid watched Zhou Liu-lang with a faint, mocking smile.
Zhou Liu-lang was visibly irritated by her gaze. With a flick of his sleeve, he turned and strode away.
But before long, he returned—this time with someone else in tow.
“Did he offend you again? And he just had to drag me along,” said Young Master Qin with a helpless smile. “That’s just how he is—please don’t take it to heart.”
Zhou Liu-lang sat stiffly to the side, accepting the tea handed to him by the maid.
It was the same fragrant tea as before.
He raised the cup and drained it in one gulp.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at Young Master Qin and smiled faintly.
“You say that as if you’re completely innocent,” she remarked.
Zhou Liu-lang’s expression froze, and even Young Master Qin’s face stiffened for a moment—but he quickly regained his composure.
“Cheng Jiao-niang, can’t you just say what you mean properly?” Zhou Liu-lang snapped.
“Then you speak,” Cheng Jiao-niang replied, turning to him and gesturing for him to continue.
“You—!” Zhou Liu-lang gritted his teeth, glaring.
Young Master Qin chuckled and took a sip of tea.
“Indeed, if I hadn’t said back then, ‘With such a friend, I have no regrets,’ he wouldn’t have carried this guilt all this time—even more anxious than I am,” he said with a smile. “In truth, the greater fault lies with me.”
Before Zhou Liu-lang could respond, he set down his teacup.
“These past few days, between handling loose ends to avoid trouble and you managing two new shops—keeping you busy—I didn’t want to intrude. That, too, was my mistake.”
“Actually, you’re the most anxious of all. The difference is, you can control it, while this poor fool can’t,” Cheng Jiao-niang remarked. “And instead, you push him to be even more frantic.”
“Cheng Jiao-niang, spare me your false kindness. I know exactly who I am and what I’m doing,” Zhou Liu-lang barked.
Cheng Jiao-niang looked at him and smiled.
“So you do realize what a hypocritical, pretentious man he is,” she said, pointing at Young Master Qin.
Zhou Liu-lang shot halfway up from his seat, his face flushed with anger.
“Cheng Jiao-niang!” he bellowed.
Young Master Qin chuckled and held out a hand to stop him.
“My lady, please stop teasing him,” he said with a smile, then bowed slightly. “Might I trouble you to treat my lame leg?”
Cheng Jiao-niang glanced at him.
“You really want your leg healed, don’t you?” she asked.
“What kind of question is that?!” Zhou Liu-lang snapped through gritted teeth. “Would you have wanted to stay a fool your whole life?”
“Who knows?” Cheng Jiao-niang replied coolly. “When I was a fool, I didn’t think I was one. In a fool’s eyes, it’s not always clear who the real fool is.”
Zhou Liu-lang choked back his fury, speechless.
“Yes. Absolutely,” Young Master Qin agreed with another easy smile. “I truly do wish to be cured.”
“See? Was that so hard?” Cheng Jiao-niang said, eyeing him. “Why bother with all the pretenses?”
“Who’s being pretentious?!” Zhou Liu-lang exploded. “Cheng Jiao-niang, enough is enough—will you ever let this go?”
She turned her gaze back to him.
“No,” she said, tilting her chin up slightly. “What are you going to do about it?”
The door slammed shut with a heavy thud.
“Liu-lang! What’s gotten into you?”
Young Master Qin hurried after him, calling out.
“That damned woman!” Zhou Liu-lang shouted, turning back to glare at the closed door.
Jin Ge’er stuck his tongue out at him and swiftly bolted the gate.
“So this is what they call ‘kicking down the bridge after crossing the river,’ huh?” Zhou Liu-lang growled, gripping his horsewhip tightly.
“She never said she wouldn’t treat me,” Young Master Qin said, shaking his head. “Why waste your breath arguing with her?”
“I just can’t stand her attitude!” Zhou Liu-lang spat through clenched teeth. “Does she expect people to kneel and beg her? That high-and-mighty air of hers—does she have no conscience at all?”
“We’re the ones asking for a favor here. Did you expect her to beg you instead?” Young Master Qin chuckled, tapping Zhou Liu-lang’s shoulder lightly with his cane. Lowering his voice, he added, “Thank heavens your temper is written all over your face. Otherwise, after drinking so much of her tea, you’d have choked on your own rage by now!”
Zhou Liu-lang felt a chill run down his spine.
“Shi’san, if you’re unhappy, just say it outright,” he said, grabbing Young Master Qin’s arm. “Stop always putting on this smiling, unflappable act! And for heaven’s sake, stop accepting that woman’s food and drink.”
“What do you mean ‘putting on an act’?” Young Master Qin chuckled. “This is just how I naturally am – neither hurried nor angry.”
Zhou Liu-lang stared at him with undisguised skepticism.
“I’ve already waited all these years,” Young Master Qin said with a smile, patting Zhou Liu-lang’s arm. “What’s another ten days or half a month? Stop worrying needlessly. I’ll handle this matter with her myself – don’t go making more trouble for me.”
Zhou Liu-lang exhaled sharply and shot one last furious glare at Cheng Jiao-niang’s courtyard gate before swinging onto his horse.
In the flickering night light, Young Master Qin saw his mother turn around.
“Shi’san, how is that matter you mentioned last time about treating your leg?” she asked.
“It’s going well, should be healed soon,” Young Master Qin replied with a nod, reaching down to pat his leg – this numb, unfeeling limb.
Madam Qin’s face lit up with surprise as she hurried forward a few steps, examining him intently.
“Really?” she asked, her expression suddenly animated. “You can walk already? Shi’san, take a few steps for me to see?”
“Mother, it’s not healed yet,” Young Master Qin chuckled. “Don’t be impatient.”
“I’m not impatient, not at all. I can wait, would wait a lifetime if needed,” Madam Qin said, tears welling in her eyes. “As long as I can see you walk again, I could close my eyes in peace.”
Young Master Qin smiled, unable to describe the complex emotions in his heart.
The truth was, everyone still cared deeply – and he himself cared about whether they cared.
“Alright, I’ll take a few steps,” he said, and moved forward.
“Shi’san! Shi’san, you’re really walking!” Madam Qin cried out, covering her mouth with her hand.
Young Master Qin looked down and only then realized he wasn’t leaning on his crutch.
He could walk?
For a moment, he stood frozen.
“Shi’san, walk again, take another step for me to see,” Madam Qin called out, stretching her hand toward him from across the room—just like when he was very young.
Was this a dream?
The thought flashed through his mind when suddenly he felt the ground vanish beneath his feet. With a gasp, his eyes flew open.
The night was deep, summer insects hummed softly, and his attendant’s snores rose rhythmically by the bedside.
His hand found the familiar crutch in its familiar place.
“It seems… I’ve grown somewhat… impatient,” Young Master Qin murmured, pressing a hand to his chest.
His heart pounded wildly.
Gazing at the canopy above, he took a deep breath and closed his eyes.
When the sky was fully bright, Chen Shao, having returned from court, heard his wife’s words.
“She wasn’t joking?”
Pausing in the middle of changing his robes, Chen Shao looked at his wife in surprise.
Madam Chen nodded.
“She said she was quite serious,” she replied. “Though it was a newly formed idea.”
After changing into casual attire and sitting down, Chen Shao picked up his teacup, deep in thought.
“I’m afraid this might not be suitable,” he said.
“Why not?” Madam Chen asked, somewhat astonished. Hadn’t her husband always held this Lady Cheng in high regard? Was admiration only reserved for distant observation? Did it become entirely different when it concerned oneself?
“It’s not that I find her unsuitable as a person,” Chen Shao quickly explained, choosing his words carefully. “I simply feel the match would be inappropriate.”
“How exactly would it be inappropriate? True, she was previously ill, a motherless eldest daughter from a humble family. But your fourth brother’s household holds no official position, and Shi’liu isn’t even the main-line heir. When they return home to manage the family lands and live quietly in the future, who would dare mock them?” Madam Chen said discontentedly.
Chen Shao burst into laughter.
“I meant I’m afraid she might be unwilling,” he said.
Madam Chen froze—this was rather unexpected.
“She… unwilling?” she asked.
Now their earlier conversation could be reversed…
Previously ill, a motherless eldest daughter from a humble family—while Shi’liu isn’t the main-line heir and won’t need to busy himself with official duties, just living peacefully off their lands—why would she possibly be unwilling?
Chen Shao gave her a meaningful look.
“Perhaps precisely because of that,” he remarked.
Because of what?
Did she think their family would look down on her? That this marriage proposal would be charity?
How could that be!
“Sister-in-law means well,” Madam Chen said after a moment’s contemplation. “Since she’s brought it up, why not help her inquire? Otherwise, if it’s just our suggestion, I fear she might never truly accept it wholeheartedly.”
Chen Shao fell into thought. Truth be told, he held this Lady Cheng in exceptionally high regard. Had she been a man, he wouldn’t have waited for his wife’s prompting—he would have long considered a marital alliance and even begun matching her with suitable candidates from his own family or clan.
If she were male, such intelligence coupled with remarkable medical skill would make her a highly sought-after son-in-law. The fact that she’d saved lives could even become a celebrated story. But as a woman… there were inevitably more reservations.
“Very well, in that case, I’ll set aside my concerns,” he said. “Let’s make the inquiry.”
Seeing her husband’s agreement, Madam Chen nodded.
“Only, her mother is gone, and her paternal family abandoned her for years. Fortunately, she has a maternal uncle, but he’s rather… problematic,” she frowned. “Once we decide, whom should we approach for formal negotiations?”
Matchmaking was a serious matter—determined by parental authority and go-betweens, with no room for error.
Chen Shao laughed again.
“My dear, you’re overcomplicating it. Naturally, we ask her,” he said. “Whomever she designates to decide, that is who we approach.”
