Chapter 3: Marriage is a protective umbrella

She had memorized countless complex and difficult illnesses. But even after a lifetime of healing others, when unexpected death came, she couldn’t save herself.

Save yourself before saving others.

In her past life, she had exhausted herself for the sake of others. This time, she was determined to live peacefully, to be a pampered little girl with no guilt.

Xue Qingdai touched the bulging blue veins on her arm. This frail, sickly body wouldn’t survive past thirty if she didn’t intervene.

Taking out the silver needles she always kept close, she pierced several critical acupuncture points to first restore her vitality.

Standing before three walls lined with traditional medicine drawers, silver needles still embedded in her body, she swiftly located the herbs she needed—Bupleurum, Notopterygium, Angelica… Then she headed to the black soil surrounding her herbal garden and dug up some fresh ginger.

She prepared a simple medicinal bath to drive the cold out of her body and prevent a fever at night.

Sitting in the steaming wooden tub, Xue Qingdai combined the treatment with controlled breathing techniques. Thin wisps of white steam rose from the top of her head.

With the most urgent matters handled, she changed into a white robe and went to the medicine room to take a few gentle, body-nourishing pills she had previously prepared.

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The next morning, Xue Qingdai’s head poked out from under four thick quilts. Her throat still hurt a little, but at least she could talk again.

The quilts made of freshly processed cotton were heavy—several dozen pounds pressing down on her. But it was a heavy weight of love. The family had piled every new quilt they made onto her bed.

The kettle by the bed had fresh hot water, and the hot water bottles under the covers had all been changed. The lingering warmth made her skin itch slightly.

She hadn’t felt a thing the night before, a testament to how gentle her mother Yang Xiaomin’s movements had been.

Before long, Xue Qingdai noticed someone standing silently in the doorway—it was her grandfather, Xue Deming.

“Daidai, Grandpa went to the morning market early just to buy you some tofu pudding. You’re not feeling well, so I only added a little sesame oil—it still tastes good.”

Old Xue Deming was nearly seventy, the most respected and long-lived elder in the village. His hair was still thick, though his tall figure was now slightly hunched with age. A bullet that had never been removed still lay embedded in his right leg, making him walk with a limp and unable to stand for long.

In his hands was a bowl of delicate white tofu pudding in an enamel cup, and he coaxed his little granddaughter to eat with the tenderness of a seasoned warrior.

His eyes, weathered from years of hardship on the battlefield, were firm and steady. He still wore his faded military uniform and liberation shoes, now muddy from his trip. He didn’t step into her room.

“Grandpa, I’ll have it in a bit. Just leave it on the stove to stay warm.”

“Alright, alright.”

Xue Deming followed her instructions, placing the tofu pudding on the red-hot iron plate of the stove to keep it warm.

His obedient little granddaughter wasn’t talking back like usual—it made his ears itch with unfamiliarity.

Yang Xiaomin, watching his back from behind, couldn’t help but laugh quietly. She slipped a freshly warmed pair of white wool socks onto Xue Qingdai’s feet.

Her daughter had been unusually well-behaved the last two days because of illness, and clearly, the old man wasn’t used to it at all.

To outsiders, her daughter might be a troublemaker—but in her arms, she’d always be the sweetest little girl.

Being obedient outside was useless. It only made others think you were easy to bully, especially when you had no one to rely on.

This was the first time Xue Qingdai had ever had someone put socks on her. Her warm feet met her mother’s cold fingers, and all ten toes curled and flexed from the ticklish sensation.

So this is what it feels like to be surrounded by love.

She liked it. Very much.

“Mom, I didn’t mention the engagement cancellation to Grandpa just now.”

Xue Qingdai had noticed at a glance that Xue Deming had many hidden injuries—she didn’t want him to exhaust himself standing at the door.

Yang Xiaomin said, “It’s fine. Grandpa’s always spoiled you the most. If you cry, he panics more than I do.”

As her mother leaned forward, some strands of hair brushed Xue Qingdai’s wrist, tickling slightly. Two strands of stark white hair stood out against her black hair.

Her mother wasn’t even fifty, yet had so much white hair. It was the result of excessive worry—premature aging.

No matter how busy Yang Xiaomin was with her work, she never brought any negative emotions home. She always wore a gentle smile.

Her uniform was always neat and tidy, even more proper than the other village officials. But the red blood vessels in her eyes betrayed her exhaustion.

Time to give her some treatment and a daily massage routine, Xue Qingdai thought. Her occupational instincts were flaring up again—but this time, it was for her family, so she was more than willing. She had already come up with more than a dozen treatment plans.

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Seeing her daughter eating breakfast, Yang Xiaomin quickly ran next door to work. Though it was less than 30 meters away, she was already late.

Even though her superior was her husband, she was still under the eyes of all the villagers—each one ready to pick apart any mistake.

After finishing her warm breakfast, Xue Qingdai stood at the doorway of their brick-tile house, her little hands busily massaging her belly clockwise and counterclockwise to aid digestion.

She also pressed a few acupuncture points on her neck to make sure there was no stagnation.

Next to her, Grandpa Xue Deming was weaving a small bamboo hat to shade her from the sun.

The Xue family, as one of the first to prosper in the village, had built a brick house. Only one room faced the sun, and the entire family had agreed to give it to Xue Qingdai.

The house had four rooms in total: one for her parents, one shared by her three older brothers, one for her, and a storage room with an old bed she no longer used.

Her brothers took turns using the storage room as their private space. Since the second brother was in the army and rarely came home, the third brother got to enjoy it most.

Grandpa Xue had his own small room made of straw and mud. He valued frugality and refused to build a new house no matter how much others persuaded him.

The whole family stayed busy all year round—only Xue Qingdai, freshly graduated from high school, had some free time.

Even Grandpa was rarely idle. The town’s elementary school had invited him to serve as principal. But for the past few days, he had set aside his beloved work just to stay by Xue Qingdai’s side.

“Daidai, starting tomorrow Grandpa won’t be free anymore. After that, I’ll come keep you company again.”

He worked fast and well—in no time, he handed her a sturdy, fragrant bamboo sunhat.

Worried the bamboo hat might be too hard, Grandpa Xue stuffed it with a bit of straw to soften it, then gently placed it on Xue Qingdai’s head.

Xue Qingdai reached out and discreetly felt around her grandfather Xue Deming’s right knee, her fingers tracing the bones. With a trace of distress, she said, “Grandpa, you’ve only rested for a few days. And the road to Qunyi Academy is so difficult—you practically have to walk the whole way. Your leg really can’t take it.”

Xue Deming simply smiled and gently stroked her hair. “There are still many children who can’t afford to go to school. If I can help, I will. I’ll just think of it as accumulating good karma for Daidai.”

When Xue Qingdai touched his almost deformed kneecap, her heart ached. That school path was probably endured through sheer willpower.

She pouted, her once calm heart now agitated, and said pitifully, “Well, since you’ll be spending time with me anyway, I want to go break off my engagement. Zhao Meiqin laughed at me for having a fiancé who can’t have children. I’ve never been so humiliated in my life.”

“Grandpa, don’t you love Daidai the most?” she said, tugging at her braided pigtails, looking utterly wronged.

The original host was only nineteen, while the male lead, Xie Yan, was already twenty-eight. She hesitated before saying, “And… he’s a little too old.”

Xue Deming closed the dictionary he’d been reading and suddenly grew serious.
“Zhao Meiqin is talking utter nonsense!”

Cough cough “Sorry, Daidai—Grandpa swore…”

“I picked that man for you because he was the best of the best. Back when the engagement was arranged, Xie Yan had just turned twenty. He was one of the most outstanding young men among the capital’s elite—handsome like Pan An, the dream son-in-law of half those old coots in the city.”

“Your grandpa relied on his silver tongue and fought his way through a pack of scheming old men to win him over.”

Xue Deming gestured animatedly, pointing at each stroke of a character in the dictionary as if reliving the glory of that verbal battle.

He took the tea Xue Qingdai handed him and gently blew on it before adding casually, “Besides, him being infertile isn’t a big deal.”

In fact, it suited him perfectly. That way, Daidai wouldn’t have to move away with her husband and could stay in the Xue household under their protection. He had arranged this engagement mainly to establish a powerful ally in the capital. As long as the engagement with the Xie family held, the Xue family’s status in Pengyang Village would be rock-solid.

They could protect his granddaughter for the rest of her life.

“Also, in Xie Yan’s memory, you’re probably still just a little girl chasing behind him calling ‘big brother.’”

“You cried with a runny nose, begging him for White Rabbit milk candy.”

Xue Qingdai: “……”

“Yet he hasn’t replied to a single letter in six years. He must be a heartless man!”