Qin Bin squinted at the honey chrysanthemum tea in front of him but didn’t reach for it. His expression carried a trace of thoughtful wariness.

For someone who never acted without personal gain to suddenly shower him with hospitality—it couldn’t possibly be a good sign.

“Fifth Brother, try it quickly. Is the sweetness right for you?” Shen Zhihuan eagerly blew on the tea.

“These chrysanthemums aren’t fully ready for harvest yet, but I handpicked the best blooms, so the flavor should be fine. Try it. If you like it, I’ll save some for you when it’s harvest season.”

Qin Bin took the tea, sipped it, and said flatly, “If you have something to say, just say it. Don’t bother with this pretense.”

It was unsettling.

The tea’s subtle chrysanthemum aroma paired with the honey’s smooth sweetness melted pleasantly on the tongue, refreshing him. Qin Bin took a few more sips.

“My neighbor Aunt Wang is preparing for her son’s wedding,” Shen Zhihuan began cautiously. “Her future daughter-in-law has had a hard life—lost her mother young, got a stepmother later, and now she doesn’t even have a decent dowry. Aunt Wang wants to get some cotton for bedding as a gesture for the bride. She asked if you could help.”

Qin Bin placed the teacup down, glancing at her. “How much does she need?”

“Twenty pounds,” Shen Zhihuan stretched out two fingers hesitantly.

Qin Bin’s lips curled into an ambiguous smile.

Frightened, Shen Zhihuan quickly retracted one finger.

“Ten pounds would be fine too,” she added with a forced smile.

“Is her family very close to yours?” Qin Bin raised an eyebrow, skeptical. He couldn’t believe she’d go out of her way for anyone.

“Very close,” she said with a nod.

If they weren’t, why would she go out of her way to help? She wasn’t some selfless saint.

Qin Bin chuckled dryly. “Then tell me, how many families are ‘very close’ to you? I’d like to prepare myself mentally.”

“Just Aunt Wang’s family,” Shen Zhihuan replied, letting out an awkward laugh.

“So, you’re not exactly popular, huh?” Qin Bin couldn’t suppress a laugh, much to her dismay.

“….”

A herd of alpacas rampaged through Shen Zhihuan’s mind.

No wonder someone his age hadn’t even dated yet while others already had kids old enough to run errands.

With his blunt attitude, it was practically a miracle if any girl could stand him.

Noticing her irritation, Qin Bin cleared his throat awkwardly. “Do they need it immediately?”

“By next month,” she replied stiffly, forcing a smile.

Despite her annoyance, she knew better than to show it while asking for a favor.

“Are you upset?” Qin Bin asked cautiously.

“Of course not.” Shen Zhihuan’s smile became even stiffer.

She wouldn’t risk jeopardizing the deal over some fleeting anger.

From the doorway, Huang Xiao’er, playing with a tin toy train with Xiao Weidong, couldn’t help but sympathize as he peeked into the room.

Ah, love does make a person humble.

When Aunt Wang received the good news, she left in high spirits, and Li Qiuhua, equally elated, began preparing a lavish meal.

Just as the food was laid on the table, loud pounding erupted on the old wooden gate.

“Open up! Open the door!” A coarse voice barked harshly.

Shen Zhihuan’s heart sank.

Though she hadn’t experienced such a situation before, she wasn’t entirely clueless about what was happening.

“Fifth Brother, Brother Huang, leave through the back,” she instructed decisively.

The commotion from Qin Bin and Huang Xiao’er’s earlier delivery must’ve drawn attention and triggered someone’s jealousy, leading to this visit.

“If we leave, what will you do?” Qin Bin narrowed his eyes.

“At worst, we’ll hand over the goods. What’s the big deal? We only have a few tattered quilts at home. What could they possibly charge us with? Just go!” she urged anxiously.

Still, Qin Bin remained calm.

But before he could respond, a group of burly men burst through the gate, storming into the courtyard.

In an instant, Qin Bin and Huang Xiao’er were pinned against the dining table.

Shen Zhihuan sighed in defeat and closed her eyes.

The commotion quickly drew a crowd of curious villagers, who filled the yard. Those unable to squeeze in climbed onto the walls for a better view.

A middle-aged man with a face full of flesh entered the house, his leering gaze sweeping over Shen Zhihuan. She shuddered, feeling repulsed by his scrutiny.

Terrified, Li Qiuhua instinctively shielded Shen Zhihuan and Xiao Weidong behind her.

Meanwhile, Su Changjiang and Wang Tiezhu who arrived later, stood in the yard and whispered something to a stranger.

“Your nerve is impressive!” the burly man sneered, his fleshy face quivering with his mocking expression.

“My nerve?” Qin Bin’s retort was icy. “Seems like yours is the one worth commending.”

Shen Zhihuan frowned, glancing at Qin Bin.

Wasn’t this the time to defuse the situation? Why was he aggravating them instead?

“You little punk! You won’t cry until you see the coffin, huh?” the man snarled, his face twitching in anger. He gestured to his men, who moved to drag Qin Bin and Huang Xiao’er away.

“What gives you the right to take me?” Qin Bin pushed away the thug restraining him.

“I’ll show you what right I have,” the man growled, his eyes glinting with menace.

“Qin Dahu, wouldn’t dare pull this crap on our Fifth Master, but you’re here strutting like you own the place? Bold of you!” Huang Xiao’er barked, struggling against the hands pinning him down.

The man froze, his expression flickering with doubt.

“Do you know our boss?” he asked cautiously, signaling his men to release Huang Xiao’er.

Huang Xiao’er smirked and pulled a receipt from his pocket, slapping it onto the table.

The murmurs outside quieted as the villagers tried to piece together the sudden shift in atmosphere. Even Wang Tiezhu and Su Changjiang looked puzzled.

“What’s happening? Weren’t they supposed to take them away?”

Huang Xiao’er puffed out his chest, smugly declaring, “Even your boss has to call our Fifth Master ‘Uncle.’ And here you are, acting all high and mighty—quite the guts you have!”

The man frowned, scrutinizing Qin Bin with a mix of doubt and hesitation.

“Uncle? Who’s pretending to be my uncle here?” a sharp voice rang out from the entrance.

The crowd parted, making way for a wiry man with a pointed face and a Parker pen tucked in his chest pocket.

The burly man’s demeanor instantly shifted to one of subservience as he hurried to greet the newcomer with a flattering smile.