During the busy farming season, people in Qi Shan Village could be seen all around, constantly hauling wheat. Some families, with enough hands to spare, didn’t even bother bringing the wheat home, opting to take it straight to the drying fields.

Among the most leisurely in the village were Shen Qingzhu and his household, outsiders with no fields of their own. With nothing to do, Shen Qingzhu, driven by curiosity, wanted to see the harvesting for himself. Growing up in the capital, he had never witnessed such a lively wheat harvest.

Walking along the edge of the fields with Aunt Wu Lanshu, Shen Qingzhu saw that most of the endless wheat fields had already been cleared, though many villagers were still bent over, working hard.

Shen Qingzhu took a light breath, the air filled with the fragrance of wheat. He sighed, “I always knew grain was hard-earned, but seeing it firsthand, I realize just how hard. This is something new for me.”

Occasionally, villagers passed by, either pushing carts or carrying wheat on their backs. Their faces were dripping with sweat, their skin sunburned and red, yet they never stopped working. They had no time to be curious about the unusual outsider that was Shen Qingzhu. They hurried past without even glancing at him.

For them, no matter how interesting or lively something might seem, nothing was more important than the grain they were gathering.

“I faintly remember helping to harvest wheat as a child,” Wu Lanshu said, a little nostalgic as she looked at the scene before them.

Shen Qingzhu suddenly recalled something. “That’s right, Aunt Wu, you used to live in Qi Shan Village.”

But for her, those memories of family weren’t likely pleasant ones.

Wu Lanshu’s parents had favored boys over girls, never liking her. While her brother roamed freely around the village, she had been stuck helping with the housework. Later, when her brother grew older, the family sold Wu Lanshu to raise money for his education.

Back then, Wu Lanshu had thought her life was hopeless. Who could have predicted that, because of her somewhat pleasing appearance, she would be chosen by a broker and taken to the capital, where she eventually met Shen Qingzhu’s mother? That woman became her benefactor. Now that she was gone, Wu Lanshu was determined to look after her child in her place.

So when she was tasked with taking Shen Qingzhu to a remote location, the first place she thought of was the village where she had once lived.

Wu Lanshu had already done her homework. Her once-beloved brother had grown spoiled and gotten into trouble years ago for trying to harass a village girl. The incident caused such an uproar that the entire family had to move away, and no one knew where they were now.

Today, only a few elderly people in the village had any memory of Wu Lanshu. She had changed so much that no one recognized her, and she hadn’t gone out of her way to mention it. She simply passed as a true outsider. The only person she told was the village head, who was deeply moved to learn that she was the Wu family’s daughter from back then.

“At the time, seeing the wheat, I felt like it was the most precious thing in the world.” Wu Lanshu smiled softly. Over the years, she had long since stopped caring about such matters.

Shen Qingzhu chuckled. “No matter the time, grain will always be the most precious thing.”

Wu Lanshu laughed as well. “That’s true. From royalty to common folk, no one can go without food.”

They continued walking along the edge of the fields. Even though Shen Qingzhu wasn’t doing anything, the sun’s heat was already making him feel uncomfortable, let alone those working hard in the fields.

As they walked, they saw a villager quickly moving past them with a load of wheat, a small bundle falling unnoticed to the ground. Shen Qingzhu bent down, picked it up, and called out, “Hey, brother!”

The man turned at the sound of the voice and realized he had dropped some wheat.

Shen Qingzhu smiled as he handed the wheat back. “Better be careful with it.”

The man blushed at Shen Qingzhu’s smile, dumbfounded as he accepted the wheat. Only after walking some distance did he realize that he hadn’t thanked him.

Wu Lanshu noticed the sweat on Shen Qingzhu’s forehead and pulled a handkerchief from her sleeve, handing it to him while looking around for some shade to rest in. Suddenly, her eyes caught something. “Isn’t that Zhou Song over there?”

Shen Qingzhu followed her gaze. Not far away, Zhou Song was tying bundles of wheat. He had rolled up his sleeves to his elbows to work more easily, exposing his muscular forearms, which were clearly strong and capable.

Zhou Song finished tying the wheat, wiped the sweat from his brow, and took a drink from his water pouch. He noticed that Lin Erzhu’s family wasn’t harvesting near him today, and he wondered how their crop was doing.

After taking a breath, Zhou Song put away his water pouch and was about to return to work when he heard someone call his name from afar.

He turned and, upon seeing who it was, froze for a moment. His first instinct was to quickly roll down his sleeves and brush off the wheat husks from his clothes.

As Shen Qingzhu approached, he noticed Zhou Song’s self-conscious movements and smiled lightly. “Zhou Song.”

Zhou Song hurriedly responded, glancing at him and Wu Lanshu. “What brings you out to the fields in this heat?”

The entire area was filled with fields, and there wasn’t even a crooked tree to provide shade. There had been a tree near where he had worked earlier, but not here. Shen Qingzhu, with his delicate skin, looked like he was already sweating under the sun.

Zhou Song lowered his eyes and pursed his lips. He could still catch a faint scent of orchids in the air.

“We just got here,” Wu Lanshu said, glancing at the large bundles of wheat at his feet. “Looks like you had a good harvest.”

“Better than last year,” Zhou Song replied, though his gaze kept drifting to Shen Qingzhu.

Shen Qingzhu shaded his eyes with his hand as he looked over Zhou Song’s nearly harvested field. His curiosity was piqued, and he turned to ask, “Can I try cutting some wheat?”

Zhou Song was startled and immediately looked at Shen Qingzhu’s hands. They were pale and delicate, clearly unused to hard labor. He couldn’t imagine what would happen if he accidentally cut himself with the sickle.

When Zhou Song didn’t respond, Shen Qingzhu thought he was worried about him wasting the wheat, so he quickly added, “I’ll only cut one bundle to try. I’ll be careful not to ruin the wheat, and you can watch over me, even teach me if needed.”

Seeing the sincerity in his eyes, Zhou Song couldn’t bring himself to refuse. He just had to make sure Shen Qingzhu didn’t hurt himself.

The two of them made their way into the field, with Zhou Song leading the way. There were still a few leftover wheat stalks from the harvested sections, and Zhou Song kept his voice low, reminding Shen Qingzhu to watch his step to avoid getting scratched.

Shen Qingzhu followed closely behind, stepping exactly where Zhou Song stepped.

Wu Lanshu stood at the edge of the field, watching their backs as they walked together. For some reason, she thought they made a rather good pair.

She suddenly remembered the day when her young master had mentioned wanting to find someone to marry in the village. If that were truly the case, Zhou Song seemed like a good choice. Whether or not he was a Qian Yuan, his character was certainly upstanding.

Shaking her head, Wu Lanshu thought, What am I even thinking? I’ve been led astray by the young master’s talk.

“Hold the wheat in one hand, and use the other to cut here with the sickle.” Zhou Song bent down and demonstrated the movement swiftly and efficiently. “Make sure your hands aren’t too close, the sickle is sharp and can easily cut you.”

Shen Qingzhu watched closely, thinking it looked simple enough, and nodded. He took the sickle from Zhou Song.

As he approached, the faint orchid scent mixed with the scent of sweat became more noticeable. Zhou Song’s heart skipped a beat, and he stepped back, putting some distance between them.

The sickle’s wooden handle was a little rough, but it wasn’t slippery, which piqued Shen Qingzhu’s curiosity. He examined it for a moment, turning it over in his hands.

Zhou Song felt increasingly anxious as he watched Shen Qingzhu toy with the sickle, afraid that he might accidentally cut himself. He repeatedly raised his hand, wanting to intervene, but hesitated.

Despite Zhou Song’s worry, Shen Qingzhu handled the sickle steadily. Once he’d had a good look, he bent down, mimicking Zhou Song’s posture, grasped a handful of wheat, and attempted to cut near the base.

Only a few stalks were cut. Surprised, Shen Qingzhu had thought it would be easier, given how effortless Zhou Song made it look. He looked up at Zhou Song.

Meeting his gaze, Zhou Song quickly reassured him, “It’s fine. Just be careful. It doesn’t matter if you can’t cut it cleanly.”

Feeling underestimated, Shen Qingzhu tightened his grip and, with more force, sliced through the wheat in one go. The problem before had just been figuring out how much strength to use.

Although he said he’d only cut one bundle, he ended up trying a few more times to get it right. His technique was decent, but nowhere near the skill of a seasoned farmer. After all, his previous experience with plants was limited to tending flowers and arranging plants.

When he finally straightened up, he realized that even after cutting only a few handfuls of wheat, his lower back was already sore, and his hand, which had been gripping the sickle, was starting to hurt.

He opened his palm to find it red and slightly irritated.

Tsk, Shen Qingzhu frowned slightly. His Kun Ze body really was too fragile.

Seeing the redness in his palm, Zhou Song frowned too. He quickly took the sickle from Shen Qingzhu and pulled out his water pouch. “How about washing it with some water? It might feel better if you cool it down.”

“No need,” Shen Qingzhu said, stopping him by placing a hand on his arm. “That water is for you to drink. You still have work to do. If I use it, what will you drink later?”

Zhou Song wanted to say it didn’t matter if he drank it or not, but the warmth from Shen Qingzhu’s hand, even through the thin fabric of his sleeve, rendered him speechless. He could even feel the softness of his touch.

These sensations left Zhou Song frozen in place, unable to utter a single word.

Realizing that Zhou Song was tense, Shen Qingzhu also noticed his own actions were a bit inappropriate and quickly pulled his hand away.

Having satisfied his curiosity, Shen Qingzhu didn’t want to linger and distract Zhou Song from his work any longer. “I’ll head back now. Don’t let me keep you from harvesting.”

Zhou Song steadied himself, trying to ignore the lingering warmth on his arm, and nodded. “I’ll walk you back.”

“There’s no need for that. I can find my way,” Shen Qingzhu declined, lifting his robe slightly and starting back on his own.

Zhou Song, still worried, stayed where he was, watching him closely.

“Zhou Song!”

Halfway down the path, Shen Qingzhu stopped in his tracks when he heard someone calling Zhou Song in an unfriendly tone. He turned to see where the voice was coming from.

Zhou Song had heard it too. The warmth in his eyes faded, replaced by a cold expression.

The oppressive heat had made Zhou Xiaofu irritable. His chubby face was covered in sweat, giving it an oily sheen.

Seeing Zhou Xiaofu approach, Wu Lanshu instinctively took a few steps back, wary of being covered in his sweat. Who is this person, charging in like this?

Zhou Xiaofu didn’t even notice the old woman nearby. He was there for Zhou Song, frowning as he prepared to speak. However, his gaze was quickly drawn to the figure standing in the middle of the field—Shen Qingzhu.

Zhou Xiaofu’s eyes widened as he stared. When did someone so good-looking appear in the village?

The way Zhou Xiaofu was staring at him made Shen Qingzhu uncomfortable. He frowned slightly and stood where he was, reluctant to move any closer.

Zhou Song noticed Zhou Xiaofu’s gaze and his expression grew colder. Not wanting Shen Qingzhu to come face-to-face with Zhou Xiaofu, he grabbed his sickle and strode over, positioning himself directly in front of Shen Qingzhu, blocking him completely.

Now Shen Qingzhu’s view was filled with Zhou Song’s broad back, the back of his shirt damp with sweat. But instead of an unpleasant odor, all Shen Qingzhu smelled was a fresh, natural scent, like pine trees in a forest after the rain.

He looked up and saw the back of Zhou Song’s neck, slightly flushed from the sun. The scent seemed to come from there.

Suddenly, Shen Qingzhu’s lips curled into a smile. He had once revealed his scent glands to Zhou Song, and now Zhou Song had unknowingly returned the favor.