Chapter 15  

Shen Qingran hadn’t slept the previous night and was now yawning incessantly. Resting his head on the bundle, he slowly closed his eyes, with Xue Feifeng’s handsome, silent profile lulling him into dreams amid the warmth of the campfire.  

The embers dimmed, and daylight broke.  

With disheveled hair, Shen Qingran trailed behind Xue Feifeng.  

Xue Feifeng was angry.  

Shen Qingran was acutely aware of this. Ever since his offer to apply medicine had been refused, not a single word had passed between them.  

The man ahead walked swiftly—so swiftly it reminded Shen Qingran of the Shen family’s abrupt move. By the time Shen Qingran had hitched the donkey cart, Xue Feifeng was already a hundred meters ahead, hardly resembling someone with a limp.  

Xue Feifeng refused to let him write, refused to read his lips. Scratching the back of his head, Shen Qingran realized he had lost every means of communication with Xue Feifeng.  

The winding, endless mountain path, lush and secluded, suddenly felt like an isolated, eternal night. Under the pale sky, with orioles singing sweetly, Shen Qingran stood frozen in place, like a wild ghost—neither man nor woman—choked and muffled, unable to scream.  

In the silence of deep contemplation, a single thought suddenly gripped his heart. The sharp pain brought unexpected clarity.  

If not for mooching food and shelter, why was he following Xue Feifeng back?  

Thinking this way seemed heartless. To put it differently—did Shen Qingran hold any value to Xue Feifeng? Would Xue Feifeng be better off without him?  

Yes.  

Shen Qingran wanted to give himself a different answer, but he couldn’t find one. His initial excuse had been that he couldn’t navigate the mountains alone—but now he could. Later, it was to wait for the female lead. But when would she arrive? And even if she did, could he really latch onto her coattails?  

Fate was unpredictable. What if the female lead looked down on a useless rich second-generation like him, who had achieved nothing in this ancient world? Could he really leech off Xue Feifeng forever? Using this cross-dressing identity to hinder Xue Feifeng from marrying and having children normally?  

He would be abandoned.  

Shen’s mother had acted improperly, dumping her son on Xue Feifeng to raise. And he was even worse—going along with the deception, aiding and abetting. Shen Qingran despised Cai Shi, yet Cai Shi had spent half her life raising her children. Aside from her gossipy nature, which added some amusement to the dull farming life, Shen Qingran truly fell short in comparison.  

“Like a pine standing tall in the wind, unyielding and proud.” Wiping away tears, Shen Qingran thought—when he was born, the high hopes his grandfather had placed on him certainly hadn’t included becoming a freeloader.  

The autumn wind swept up the withered leaves at his feet, sending them dancing through the air before landing on Xue Feifeng’s shoulders.  

Xue Feifeng stopped. There was no sound behind him except the howling mountain wind. After a pause, he turned and saw that stubborn, frail figure still standing where the cave had been.  

His heart stirred uneasily. Though the wind blew toward him, it felt as though it was pushing Shen Qingran further away.  

Xue Feifeng halted, watching as the other slowly caught up, yet the tightness in his chest remained unrelieved.  

It was the principle, not the person. Xue Feifeng despised concealment and deceit. Those who approached him with ill intentions wore the gentlest, most amiable masks—acting for decades before striking without warning, nearly sending countless souls to the underworld, banners waving, agony unbearable.  

A general who had won countless battles wouldn’t dare claim he had never made a wrong command—let alone a young man and woman from a mountain village?  

But a general also owned his mistakes and retired from service.  

Xue Feifeng could forgive Shen Qingran for once succumbing to temptation, but he couldn’t tolerate being kept in the dark. No one could predict how far a person might go to cover up a lie.

What angered him was Shen Qingran’s defensive attitude, like a startled bird.

But he wasn’t being entirely honest either. They were both at fault, so he might as well turn a blind eye—after all, this was Shen Qingran.

Shen Qingran led the donkey at a leisurely pace, his thoughts unreadable. He caught up with Xue Feifeng, his clear, bright eyes standing out like the morning star in the dim forest before sunrise.

“Sorry, I was too focused on the journey and didn’t pay attention to you. We’ve been away for two days, and no one’s fed the goose at home…” Xue Feifeng offered a clumsy excuse.

Shen Qingran nodded, flashing a radiant smile. “It’s fine. Let’s just walk faster.”

Neither mentioned riding the donkey cart again, as if they had become too distant to share the same vehicle.

…

When they reached the entrance of Li Family Village, the laborers in the fields looked at them in surprise. They were spending money so recklessly—did they really need a donkey cart?

Naturally, they assumed it was Shen Qingran being spoiled, unable to walk, forcing Fengzi to buy it for him.

After the troublemakers were driven off by Chang Bai, no one had visited the thatched cottage at the foot of the mountain again. The fence was crooked and collapsed with the slightest breeze.

Shen Qingran’s fence-repairing skills were indeed lacking.

Further inside, the front door was broken too. Xue Feifeng recalled Chang Bai mentioning the troublemakers and instantly regretted not taking Shen Qingran with him. Had Shen Qingran left the mountains because he couldn’t bear the harassment?

Xue Feifeng berated himself for his thoughtlessness, growing increasingly concerned about the wound on Shen Qingran’s abdomen. Yet it was like a forbidden zone—Shen Qingran refused to show it, straining their relationship further.

“Qingran, you…” Xue Feifeng called out to him.

Shen Qingran guiltily surveyed the damaged yard. Hearing Xue Feifeng, he turned to him with an ingratiating, pleading look.

It all felt familiar, just like when Xue Feifeng had first returned home.

Xue Feifeng wanted to say more, but he sensed something different in Shen Qingran’s eyes—something heavy, unintentionally revealing a hint of something deeper.

Shen Qingran unhitched the cart from the donkey and led the animal to the backyard to tie it up. Xue Feifeng wanted to say, “Let me handle it,” but Shen Qingran had already disappeared into the backyard.

After the exhausting journey, it might not be the best time for a serious talk. Xue Feifeng went inside, set down his bundle, and took the initiative to wash rice and cook.

At least let Shen Qingran eat first.

Shen Qingran patted the donkey’s rump and whispered, “I’ve brought you home. From now on, when Li Feng needs to go somewhere, be more proactive—don’t let him walk. Got it?”

The little black donkey ignored him, focused on munching a carrot.

“Stupid donkey,” Shen Qingran sighed, imagining the black donkey decked out in red ribbons, swaying its head as it carried dowry and betrothal gifts for Xue Feifeng’s next wedding.

A pang of sadness struck him.

Shen Qingran concluded that whether one was undeserving or truly suited for a role, staying in a position for too long made it hard to let go.

After all, he would never meet another Xue Feifeng.

To accommodate his muteness, paper and brushes were hung everywhere in the house, even in the backyard. Shen Qingran took a sheet from the wall, hesitating over what to write.

He had considered turning back and leaving right outside the cave, but seeing Xue Feifeng stride ahead without looking back, he worried the donkey cart would be abandoned halfway—what a waste.

Shen Qingran stretched his legs, sitting atop a pile of firewood. After gnawing on the pen for a long while, he finally made up his mind and wrote decisively: “I’m leaving. The world beyond the mountains isn’t bad. Next time, remember to marry a wife with better character.”

Shen Qingran was worried. Xue Feifeng was so easily swayed—what if he got tricked into marrying someone like him again? Wait, as long as it was a woman, she couldn’t possibly be worse than him.

From start to finish, Shen Qingran didn’t step foot back into the house. He left cleanly, without taking a single copper coin.

As he set foot on the mountain path again, Shen Qingran thought, *Even if I die, I’ll die outside, far away from here.*

Otherwise, if someone found Xue Feifeng’s wife starved to death on the road three days after running away, it would be too humiliating!

When he made the decision, he was fearless in his ignorance. But now that he was truly leaving, fear crept in.

Would he really starve to death, just like the original story’s ending?

Clusters of lush mushrooms grew on the damp, shaded roots by the roadside. Shen Qingran shuddered at the sight.

As long as he refused to eat mushrooms even if he starved, he should be able to hold out until… begging for food, right?

…

Xue Feifeng chopped firewood and cooked. It wasn’t until the meal was nearly ready that he realized how eerily quiet the house was.

Shen Qingran was mute, so silence was normal when they weren’t together. But there wasn’t even the sound of footsteps… Xue Feifeng abruptly snapped a thick cedar branch in his hand.

The unease he’d felt all day finally made sense. Xue Feifeng read Shen Qingran’s note three times. Those few words carried the weight of a thousand pounds. He strained to discern if there was any hidden meaning. His fingers clenched the paper, veins bulging, until the edges began to crack and crumble into dust.

Shen Qingran… ran away?

Shen Qingran ran away carrying someone else’s child?

One trip outside the mountains, and he didn’t want to come back?

He tossed aside his crutch in despair. If this was Shen Qingran’s wish, was there any point in chasing after him? Shen Qingran had been married for less than a month. If he was certain he was pregnant, the timing suggested it couldn’t be from anyone in Li Family Village… Xue Feifeng couldn’t help but suspect Shen Qingran wanted to leave to find…

Xue Feifeng closed his eyes.

He entered the house and saw the untouched bundle and the wheelchair standing quietly by the wall. Suddenly, as if struck by lightning, he grabbed his crutch and rushed out the door.

Shen Qingran had taken nothing with him.

At night, he’d fear wolves and ghosts. During the day, he’d walk three steps and rest two. How could he possibly make it out of the mountains?

Xue Feifeng avoided the main road, not wanting villagers to see his limp and ask questions. He leaped into the mountains, moving swiftly, estimating Shen Qingran’s progress before finally descending back onto the path to continue his pursuit.

Somewhere between Xue Feifeng’s starting point and Li Family Village, Shen Qingran—whose traveling speed had been severely overestimated—sat on a rock, exhausted.

He couldn’t walk anymore.

So tired.

If Xue Feifeng came after him now, he’d follow him back without a shred of dignity, wagging his tail for a sip of water.

Xue Feifeng sprinted two *li* without spotting a single footprint. Dark thoughts swirled in his mind, but he forced himself to stay calm and think rationally.

That idiot was probably behind him.

With a grim expression, Xue Feifeng turned back. Before long, he spotted a limping figure in white among the trees.

…

Shen Qingran looked up, panting as he leaned on a bamboo staff, his lips dry and cracked, sweat beading on his forehead.

*Was this road elastic or something? When we came back together, it wasn’t this exhausting!*

“Shen Qingran!”

An unfriendly voice suddenly exploded from behind, calling his full name sharply.

Shen Qingran trembled, nearly dropping to his knees.

Holy shit!

“You promised you’d never leave the mountains alone again,” Xue Feifeng said, not mentioning his runaway attempt but holding him to that vow instead.

Shen Qingran pressed his lips together, tears shimmering in his eyes. His red-rimmed eyes stood out starkly against his snow-white complexion, eyelids swollen like two large peaches.

He never wanted to leave alone.

The road was long and dark, teeming with snakes, insects, rats, and ants. Rocks tumbled down the mountain unpredictably—Aunt Zhang said wild boars were active nearby.

Not to mention he had no idea where to go.

Xue Feifeng walked over slowly and firmly grasped his hand. “If it’s because of my attitude this morning, I apologize again. Don’t go alone. If wolves took you, where would a cripple like me find another wife?”

Shen Qingran: “But I’d just be a burden to you.”

“I only wish I could pamper you like an imperial consort, exempt from all work. It’s not your fault—it’s my lack of capability.”

Shen Qingran’s eyes widened slightly in alarm. “Are you planning a rebellion? Better not—you can’t defeat the Crown Prince.”

During his outing, he’d heard the court had moved south, playing weak, while all northern defenses were led by the Crown Prince.

Xue Feifeng scoffed. Who said he couldn’t win?

He was surprised Shen Qingran would casually jump to rebellion but didn’t dwell on it.

No matter—it wasn’t important.

“Still leaving?” Xue Feifeng turned Shen Qingran around with a hint of force. “If you don’t like Li Family Village, we’ll move.”

His subordinates had urged him repeatedly to relocate, but Xue Feifeng refused. The moment Shen Qingran ran away, Xue Feifeng reconsidered—maybe the place was unsuitable.

Shen Qingran looked at Xue Feifeng, tears welling up with every blink.

“Ran away on your own, yet you’re the one crying.” Xue Feifeng used his knuckle to wipe the tears away.

His rough, calloused thumb brushed against the delicate skin around Shen Qingran’s eyes, leaving red marks with every touch.

Making him look even more pitiful.

“Let’s go home,” Xue Feifeng coaxed.

Shen Qingran didn’t move.

“Hmm?”

“I’m thirsty,” Shen Qingran sniffled, mouthing the words silently.

Above them, an eagle soared across the vast blue sky.

On the quiet mountain path, the beauty with his delicate features and sharp chin licked his dry lips, pouting as he wordlessly begged for water.

The general had left in haste—he hadn’t brought any.

Xue Feifeng’s eyes darkened. Suddenly, he gripped Shen Qingran’s chin and lowered his head.

He bit and licked fiercely, wetting the parched lips until they glistened, sweetness blooming between them.

“Still thirsty?” Xue Feifeng’s voice was hoarse, his gaze wolfish. The grip on Shen Qingran’s chin was unyielding as a mountain, leaving his prey no room to squirm or whimper.