Chapter 17

Shen Qingran reluctantly withdrew his gaze, hesitantly nodded, then shook his head in denial.

What if Xue Feifeng wanted to visit with him? The truth would be exposed.

The female lead had just arrived, and their first meeting had to be carefully planned—he couldn’t afford to leave a bad impression. In the novel, supporting characters who were negatively portrayed by the author from their very introduction usually met grim fates. Especially himself—the author had devoted five thousand words to exaggerate just how despicable he was, ending with his corpse rotting before being discovered.

I’m really pitiful, truly.

Xue Feifeng watched his evasive demeanor, irritation simmering inside. “Let’s go back.”

Shen Qingran nodded and moved to gather the sugarcane leaves onto the cart, only to realize Xue Feifeng had already taken care of everything without him noticing. Eager to make up for it, he volunteered to drive the cart while racking his brain to recall the female lead’s circumstances, completely oblivious to Xue Feifeng’s unusual mood.

In the early chapters of the novel, before the female lead embarked on her two-million-word farming journey, Shen Qingran had read attentively. The female lead, Pan Yunxi, was often bullied by her elder brother Pan Yanshan, while their parents turned a blind eye due to their favoritism toward their son. Pan Yanshan had spent two years studying in the city, absorbing little scholarly knowledge but mastering the art of hypocrisy.

Pan Yanshan, convinced of his own erudition, looked down on those who practiced martial arts and frequently gathered with wealthy young men to compose mocking poems. After the bandit uprising, the rich either fled or were robbed, while those skilled in martial arts joined either the bandits or the government, gaining the upper hand over Pan Yanshan and making life difficult for him. Unable to stay in the city, the Pan family encountered Sun Lao Er and relocated to Li Family Village.

Once in the village, Pan Yanshan sought to form his own clique, dragging his sister along to visit neighbors and using her as a social tool, even calling local ruffians “brothers.” When the female lead refused to accompany him, she was pushed into a pond and nearly drowned.

This was Shen Qingran’s chance to build a good relationship with her.

However, this incident wouldn’t happen until two days later. Tomorrow, Xue Feifeng’s friend would come to buy sugarcane. Shen Qingran grew excited at the thought—the female lead needed land for farming, but no one initially believed in her unconventional farming plans. Without land, even the most capable woman couldn’t cook without rice. Once the sugarcane field was cleared, he could lend the plot to her.

To be honest, Shen Qingran wanted to become a landlord outright.

Xue Feifeng, who had never retreated from the battlefield, watched Shen Qingran’s distracted expression and suddenly felt the urge to move away.

Someone as soft-hearted and impressionable as Shen Qingran was easily swayed by sweet talk. Xue Feifeng silently resolved to prevent any chance of contact between them.

…

Chang Ming, playing the role of a sugarcane merchant, boasted to his brothers before leaving—envious of his chance to openly interact with the “madam,” weren’t they?

A considerate elder brother, Chang Ming didn’t forget his juniors when good opportunities arose. The moment he met Shen Qingran, he introduced himself and detailed his three brothers’ situations, hoping to leave a favorable impression.

“Madam, is there anything else you’d like to know?” Chang Ming asked eagerly, lavishing praise on his brothers’ looks, family backgrounds, and virtues like a matchmaker promoting candidates.

Xue Feifeng shot him a warning glare: Enough.

He shouldn’t have let Chang Ming improvise.

Shen Qingran: Don’t call me “madam,” and I don’t care how many people are in your family.

But not wanting to offend a customer, he politely made small talk, writing: “Do you also have an elder sister?”

Chang Ming shuddered, thinking that the infamous female demon’s reputation truly preceded her. Even though he had deliberately kept her out of the picture, his wife still found out.  

“My lady is truly prescient!” Chang Ming flattered shamelessly. “A perfect match for our master!”  

“My elder sister is named Chang Chan—like the summer cicada.”  

The kind of cicada that’s especially noisy when scolding her younger brother!  

“You flatter me,” Shen Qingran smiled. The four siblings’ names combined meant “long life and prosperity”—vulgarly elegant. Who even came up with these names?  

Xue Feifeng sneezed.  

Clueless as he was, Chang Ming found himself facing the equally clueless Shen Qingran. Through written communication, they negotiated and bought up all the sugar cane at a high price.  

“Clang—” Xue Feifeng flicked his sword with a finger. Understanding the hint, Chang Ming immediately put on a troubled expression. “My lady! It just occurred to me—my dashing and brilliant younger brother went to Wang Village yesterday and bought ten acres of sugar cane. So, I’m afraid we can’t take all of yours. How about this? We’ll deduct one acre and take four. You can keep the rest for personal use.”  

The sugar cane was originally bought by Xue Feifeng as snacks for Shen Qingran. Selling it all would’ve been a wasted effort.  

Shen Qingran was easygoing and agreed.  

After selling four acres of sugar cane, the land was freed up. Three acres were leased to the female lead, while one acre was kept to purchase seeds from her.  

Labor brings prosperity. After some thought, Shen Qingran foresaw with great clarity: being a landlord in a farming novel never ends well.  

As Chang Ming was leaving, Xue Feifeng quietly stopped him. “Go find the Miracle Doctor and get some prenatal medicine.”  

“My lady—she’s—she’s expecting a little master!” Chang Ming was overjoyed. “I’ll go buy it right away!”  

Chang Ming nearly spiraled into the sky with excitement—a dragon egg!  

How could the general remain so calm? Truly befitting of a general! Such composure—no wonder he was destined to serve him for life!  

“How far along is the little master?” Chang Ming rubbed his hands eagerly.  

Xue Feifeng wasn’t sure, so he said, “Get prescriptions for two, three, and four months.”  

“Understood!” Chang Ming left the mountains as if blessed by the gods, soaring on wings, covering a thousand miles in a day with his light body technique. But mid-flight, he suddenly frowned and plummeted straight down.  

“Two to four months… the general has only been married for one month.” Covered in dust, Chang Ming was heartbroken and bewildered.  

……  

Lately, Shen Qingran had been sneaking out at every opportunity, always heading to the Pan family. Xue Feifeng, strangely enough, would often appear out of nowhere, complaining that his leg hurt.  

Of course, the current breadwinner Xue Feifeng’s matters took priority.  

Shen Qingran frequently watered the Green Du Sapling, hoping it would sprout new shoots soon. Xue Feifeng’s leg injury seemed to worsen with the onset of winter. Shen Qingran knew nothing about medicine, so he could only pin his hopes on this sapling working miracles.  

One day, seizing the moment when Xue Feifeng was busy tending the kitchen fire, Shen Qingran set down the carrots meant for the donkey and slipped out through the back door.  

Once he reached the village path, Shen Qingran straightened up, suddenly feeling a bit confused—why did this feel like sneaking around for an affair?  

I’m clearly doing something good!  

The fish pond that Sun Lao Er had handed over to Xue Feifeng wasn’t far from the Sun residence. Using the excuse of inspecting the fish pond, Shen Qingran confidently approached the Sun—now Pan—household.  

By the fish pond stood a group of young men led by Pan Yanshan, laughing and teasing the female lead. She looked listless, lacking energy, and shrank timidly behind her brother in the face of their unreasonable demands to “call us ‘good brother.’”

Pan Yanshan frowned and pulled his sister out, “What are you hiding for? Mother said you look pale and are afraid of strangers. I brought you out to get some sun and meet friends. Why are you hiding?”  

A bully was always a bully, only now he had switched targets. While flattering his “scholarly” brother, he surrounded the frail female lead, spewing vulgar and obscene words.  

The sky was overcast and gloomy—where was the sun? The female lead, realizing she had been tricked, tried to break free from her brother and go back. Pan Yanshan, relying on his size and strength, shoved her and scolded her for being ungrateful.  

Shen Qingran was furious. He had been bullied like this before and understood the female lead’s fear and helplessness all too well. He rushed forward, grabbed Pan Yanshan by the back of his collar, and yanked with all his might. The collar tightened around Pan Yanshan’s neck, forcing him to let go of his sister and claw at Shen Qingran’s hand instead. He dug in hard, leaving four bloody scratches on Shen Qingran’s hand, but he didn’t come out unscathed either—staggering back a few steps before falling to the ground.  

Shen Qingran shielded the female lead behind him, just like that day when Chang Bai had descended like a hero to deal with the troublemakers at home.  

At least, that was how he saw it.  

The bullies, remembering Chang Bai, backed away fearfully, leaving Pan Yanshan to fend for himself. Humiliated, Pan Yanshan looked up and saw it was just a meddlesome woman. His chest heaved with anger. When he heard the onlookers mutter, “The mute from the cripple’s family is here,” his cowardly nature took over. Enraged, he shoved Shen Qingran into the fish pond.  

“Ah!”  

Amid the female lead’s scream, Shen Qingran toppled face-first into the pond.  

The winter water was bone-chillingly cold. At first, Shen Qingran wasn’t too afraid—he knew how to swim. But he soon overestimated himself. The edges of the pond were thick with deep mud. Shen Qingran struggled to keep his upper body above water, but his legs were trapped in the sludge, impossible to pull free.  

He pressed his hands into the mud, but his elbows quickly sank as well, leaving him with nothing to grip.  

The female lead lunged toward the pond in horror, but Pan Yanshan held her back, sneering, “She fell in herself.”  

Shen Qingran glared coldly at Pan Yanshan, realizing he had to save himself. As he tried to pull his hands free, his fingers brushed against something hard—a wooden stick, perhaps. He tightened his grip, intending to use it as a support.  

But when he yanked it up, it wasn’t wood at all.  

A nearly meter-long lotus root emerged from the mud. Shen Qingran, recalling the local legends of corpses sunk in ponds, was terrified. He frantically threw it away, only to sink deeper.  

“Well, since sister-in-law is busy digging for lotus roots, we won’t disturb her.”  

Pan Yanshan knew Shen Qingran wouldn’t die immediately—she’d either climb out on her own or wait for help. At most, he’d come back in half a day to check. If no one had rescued her by then, he might show some mercy.  

“After ten years of diligent study, I’ve been reduced to living among these uncouth villagers. I’ve already disgraced the teachings of the sages. If some vulgar peasant woman dares to meddle, she’d better be ready to face the consequences!” Pan Yanshan spat, using Shen Qingran to assert dominance over the bullies and ensure they wouldn’t dare challenge him later.  

With that, he clamped a hand over the female lead’s mouth and dragged her home. The rest of the troublemakers scattered.

Mud-covered Shen Qingran was left alone, stuck in the fish pond, stunned by Pan Yanshan’s shamelessness. He watched helplessly as everyone walked away, not a single soul willing to pull him out. He silently opened his mouth, then closed it again.

What had Pan Yanshan just said?

Lotus root? What lotus root?

Was it that thing dug up earlier?

Shen Qingran covered his eyes, peeking through his fingers at the “wood” he had tossed aside—segmented and caked in mud. Was this lotus root?

He shifted his legs and suddenly felt another one on his right side.

Shen Qingran brightened. This was his family’s fish pond—anything that grew here belonged to him. Immediately forgetting his predicament, he bent down to grope around in the muddy water.

Xue Feifeng’s legs had been aching frequently these past two days, and Shen Qingran had been planning to make him a nourishing bone broth.

Like lotus root and peanut chicken soup.

All he needed now was the chicken!

Shen Qingran frowned, then relaxed. The sugar cane had been sold today, so he could buy a chicken from Aunt Zhang first.

Labor temporarily numbed the cold. Shen Qingran fished out three more scrawny sections of lotus root before sneezing violently three times.

Once the excitement of discovery faded, the chill slowly seeped into every bone in his body—insidious, relentless, bone-deep, threatening to steal his senses. His teeth chattered uncontrollably as he hugged himself futilely, occasionally slapping the water with the lotus root to make noise.

Would Xue Feifeng notice he’d sneaked out?

When would Xue Feifeng come?

Covered head to toe in mud, the shallow water gradually rose to his waist as he waited endlessly.

He didn’t even realize it himself—that in his helplessness, he was pinning his hopes on Xue Feifeng at home, who knew nothing, rather than the female lead who had witnessed the scene.

……

For the eighth time in two days, Xue Feifeng discovered Shen Qingran had gone out without a word. Before the Pan family arrived, Shen Qingran had hardly ever left the house.

He sat silently at the dining table, waiting for Shen Qingran to return on his own. Beside him were steaming rice and egg drop soup, their warmth curling into white mist that blurred the expression of the man at the table.

After lunchtime, Aunt Zhang brought over a bag of glue she had made with Shen Qingran earlier. Seeing only Xue Feifeng at home, she hesitated, torn between speaking up or staying silent.

“Aunt Zhang, speak your mind,” Xue Feifeng pushed aside the cooled dishes and poured her a bowl of tea.

“W-well, then I’ll just say it.” Aunt Zhang steeled herself. “While you were away, I heard someone talking in the house—sounded like a scholar, not from our village. I asked Qingran about it, but he said there was no one. Isn’t that strange? So I thought I’d tell you when you got back. Does Qingran have any brothers…? No, what I mean is, if there’s nothing else, we should probably invite a couple of Taoist priests to check the house…”

Aunt Zhang, afraid of wrongly accusing Shen Qingran, twisted her words into talk of ghosts and spirits.

Xue Feifeng sneered. The Shen family was planning to move away quietly—since when did Shen Qingran have brothers?

A scholar? More faithless than scholars, who could there be!

Secret dealings, lingering affections, yet shirking responsibility—was Shen Qingran blind?!

Xue Feifeng grabbed his cane, his expression more severe than when drawing his sword.

He stormed out, but before he could reach the Pan residence, he suddenly spotted Shen Qingran weakly flailing in the fish pond.

“Shen Qingran!”

Xue Feifeng blinked, hardly daring to believe the mud-covered figure was Shen Qingran. He rushed to the pond’s edge, his cane barely touching the ground in the last few steps.

Shen Qingran could barely open his eyes, caked with mud, and didn’t see how Xue Feifeng had arrived. When two crutches were laid before him, and Xue Feifeng knelt upon them, gripping his arms to pull him up, Shen Qingran couldn’t hold back—tears welled up. But the dried mud around his eyes mixed with the tears, only to seep back in.  

He had no choice but to shut his eyes tightly and cling to Xue Feifeng.  

The crutches were good.  

Xue Feifeng was even better.  

Xue Feifeng felt the body in his arms trembling incessantly, as if holding a block of ice. Heart aching, he wiped away the mud and water around Shen Qingran’s eyes, but like the hot tears that kept spilling, it was impossible to clean them completely.  

For the first time, Xue Feifeng hated how the battlefield had roughened his fingers, leaving them unable to be as soft and delicate as fine silk to wipe away the filth from Shen Qingran’s face. In his urgency, he lowered his head and licked, swallowing the tears and mud with tender devotion.  

Only when those eyes finally opened, revealing a wounded, aggrieved expression, did Xue Feifeng pull Shen Qingran into a tight embrace and ask with forced calm:  

“Who did this to you?”  

Calm as the night before a killing.