Chapter 18  

Shen Qingran steadied himself by holding onto Xue Feifeng’s shoulder, mouthing the words: “Cold. Let’s go home first.”  

Xue Feifeng’s clothes were also half-soaked from coming down here. Though his tone was calm now, Shen Qingran had a gut feeling that Xue Feifeng was on the verge of losing control—and the Pan residence was right next to them.  

He was afraid Xue Feifeng might suffer some underhanded scheme from Pan Yanshan. Who knew what despicable methods such a shameless person might employ? Xue Feifeng hadn’t brought his sword, and on top of that, he had Shen Qingran—a deadweight—to worry about. No matter how formidable his martial arts were, he was still a man with limited mobility.  

Where in the world would he find another person who treated him this well and understood him so deeply? Even the female lead would have to take a backseat.  

Because of this, Shen Qingran had always been more cautious about Xue Feifeng’s affairs than his own. It was probably a mindset of, “I’m already freeloading off him—if I cause him any more trouble, I might as well apologize with my life.”  

As for Pan Yanshan, Shen Qingran sneered inwardly. He would regret what he had done today.  

The fish pond was only five meters away from the Pan residence. Stirring up trouble wouldn’t be hard.  

Gritting his teeth, Shen Qingran yanked Xue Feifeng’s cane out of the mud and handed it to him. Then, he made sure to cradle the lotus roots he had dug up in his arms, forcing a smile. “I found treasure.” He’d make soup with them for Xue Feifeng.  

This was completely out of character for Shen Qingran’s usual lazy self. Xue Feifeng stared at him intently. “Did he make you dig them?”  

He didn’t specify who “he” was.  

Was that scum really worth this much effort? Digging through the mud just to maintain some lingering connection?  

Shen Qingran looked at Xue Feifeng in surprise. Had his image really become so ingrained in Xue Feifeng’s mind that he even knew Shen Qingran wouldn’t recognize lotus roots?  

He refused to admit that he had indeed taken the scumbag’s advice—it would ruin the taste of the lotus roots.  

Shaking his head, Shen Qingran nudged Xue Feifeng with his elbow. *Let’s just go home already.*  

Xue Feifeng stood rooted in place like a wooden post. The fact that Shen Qingran refused to speak up about being bullied left him feeling frustrated. People said married couples should be of one mind, yet the secrets between him and Shen Qingran only seemed to multiply—every time he asked, Shen Qingran would clam up.  

*Married couples…* A thread in Xue Feifeng’s mind suddenly tightened. Had his subconscious already placed Shen Qingran in such a unique position?  

But Shen Qingran was… Li Feng’s widow.  

The wife of a guard who had served under him, someone who had nothing to do with Xue Feifeng himself.  

This thought hadn’t crossed his mind in a long time. He had selectively forgotten about it—whether it was the desperate kiss to quench thirst or the inexplicable jealousy. Yet now, the words “married couple” loomed before him like a *Celestial Net* inscribed with curses, determined to strip away all emotions and desires, forcing delusions and ghosts to reveal their true forms.  

Xue Feifeng suddenly felt like a scoundrel—he had entertained the thought of keeping Shen Qingran for himself.  

He had wanted to keep hiding the truth, to let Shen Qingran continue seeing him as a husband, relying on him, growing close to him.  

A general who upheld strict discipline and unshakable military orders—during campaigns, any soldier who harassed women or seized private property would be severely punished without exception. And now, the offender was Xue Feifeng himself.  

Shen Qingran rested his chin on Xue Feifeng’s shoulder, urging him to go home with a whine. Suddenly, Xue Feifeng took a step forward with his cane. “Let’s go home.”  

Shen Qingran stumbled slightly before quickly catching up.  

……  

Not only did Shen Qingran wash himself clean, but he also scrubbed the three lotus roots until not a speck of mud remained. If Xue Feifeng hadn’t been outside, he might have even hummed a tune.

The wild lotus roots exuded a refreshing fragrance. Shen Qingran didn’t have the ability to judge their quality, but he simply felt overjoyed by this unexpected windfall.  

Even if this windfall was just three lotus roots.  

For someone who was neither diligent nor willing to farm, was there anything more delightful than food falling from the sky?  

Shen Qingran forgot how icy the fish pond water was, silently praising the pond a hundred times in his heart before feeling a twinge of regret a second later.  

Though the lotus roots from the fish pond were delicious, to spite that bastard surnamed Pan, he wouldn’t hesitate to turn the fish pond into a bioweapon pool.  

Shen Qingran imagined the scene and couldn’t help but smirk.  

The only downside was that it might offend the female lead.  

After calmly considering it, Shen Qingran decided to go talk to her in the afternoon. If she sided with her brother, then he wouldn’t bother groveling for her favor. He had no need to be spineless—except in front of Xue Feifeng.  

Xue Feifeng was just too good. No matter what happened, he never let Shen Qingran down.  

…  

Lunch had long gone cold. Xue Feifeng scooped a bit of each dish onto a plate and reheated them over boiling water.  

After returning from the mountains, cooking duties had been split fifty-fifty. Their culinary skills were equally terrible, so neither could complain about the other.  

Shen Qingran ate rice with a fried egg while Xue Feifeng watched him, his own plate empty.  

“Why aren’t you eating?” Shen Qingran gestured, his expression questioning. Ever since returning from the pond, Xue Feifeng had been in low spirits, his brows furrowed as if facing the most difficult problem of his life.  

In Shen Qingran’s eyes, nothing could stump Xue Feifeng, so he couldn’t help but worry too. He leaned in, eyes filled with concern, trying to get a better look.  

He leaned too close—so close that less than an inch remained between them. Their gazes locked, breaths mingling, the distance so intimate it seemed they might kiss at any moment. Shen Qingran abruptly held his breath, his eyes and the tips of his ears turning red. He gasped lightly and retreated to his chair, frozen in place.  

His eyes were red, his lips were red.  

What was happening?  

Was he allergic to Xue Feifeng’s saliva? Every spot Xue Feifeng had kissed before now burned with heat at even the slightest proximity, making his heart race with embarrassment.  

Unaware that his entire face was flushed, Shen Qingran quickly reached a conclusion.  

It was definitely an allergy.  

A second exposure to the allergen, and the reaction was this intense!  

He needed to keep his distance from now on.  

…  

Xue Feifeng’s gaze traced the reddened tips of his eyes, his lips, his cheeks, before he forced himself to look away, barely holding back from surrendering to temptation.  

When Shen Qingran set down his bowl after eating only half, Xue Feifeng picked it up. “Full?”  

Seeing Xue Feifeng about to take it to the kitchen, Shen Qingran hastily snatched it back. He had deliberately only eaten from the left side, leaving the right untouched.  

He speared a perfectly intact boiled egg with his chopsticks and held it up to Xue Feifeng’s lips.  

Trying to fool him? Xue Feifeng hadn’t eaten at all.  

Struggle flickered in Xue Feifeng’s eyes. He turned his head away, his voice rough. “Shen Qingran, you’d better not feed me right now.”  

If the general took even one bite, his defenses would crumble completely.  

Undeterred, Shen Qingran pressed the egg against Xue Feifeng’s lips, smiling brightly as if coaxing a child. “Open up, ah—”  

His arm grew sore from holding it up before Xue Feifeng reluctantly took a bite. Though his expression remained unchanged, Shen Qingran inexplicably felt that Xue Feifeng was chewing with unusual intensity, as if grinding bones to suck out the marrow.  

Was the egg really that bad?

Outside, a figure in a coarse blue shirt passed by. Shen Qingran, sharp-eyed, quickly pulled Xue Feifeng out the door. “Hurry, help me call Aunt Zhang back.”

Xue Feifeng was yanked so abruptly he nearly forgot to grab his crutch to maintain his lame act. Resigned to playing translator, he called out, “Aunt Zhang, wait a moment.”

Shen Qingran swiftly wrote on paper. Xue Feifeng relayed, “Qingran says he’d like to buy a chicken from you.”

“For soup?” Aunt Zhang tactfully avoided asking whether those eggs had hatched. “That works—just so happens a few of my chickens have grown plump enough for slaughter.”

“Could you bring one over this evening?”

As Xue Feifeng reached for money, Shen Qingran pressed his hand down. Xue Feifeng had stubbornly refused to take the earnings from the sugar cane sales, insisting it stay with Shen Qingran. Counting out enough copper coins from his own pocket, Shen Qingran handed them to Aunt Zhang, then fetched a section of lotus root from the house.

While delighted, Aunt Zhang couldn’t help worrying over Shen Qingran’s generosity.

Her memory far surpassed the couple’s, and she reminded them, “When Sun Lao Er left, he sold both the sugarcane field and the stone mill for sugar pressing in the house—black and white in the contract. Now that he’s sold the house to the Pan family, you’d best move that mill back soon, before they settle in and deny it. If you’re too shy to confront them, just call me along—and Xingqing and his wife too. With more of us, we won’t fear them.”

Li Xingqing was Aunt Zhang’s eldest son, an exceptionally burly young man.

“We’ll move it tomorrow,” Xue Feifeng declared. Initially, he hadn’t wanted it, thinking it’d burden Shen Qingran. Now he’d changed his mind—what was rightfully his shouldn’t be left for Pan Yanshan to taint, even if it meant tossing it into the fish pond.

For once, Shen Qingran’s thoughts aligned perfectly with Xue Feifeng’s.

Seeing the couple take it seriously, Aunt Zhang finally felt somewhat relieved they weren’t being careless. She chatted a bit more: “Exactly, it must be done tomorrow. Just now, I heard from Aunt Wang that the Pan family is already arranging a match for their son—the whole family’s going to meet Li Dadao’s youngest daughter later. Look at that, is this how scholars behave? Who goes to inspect a girl before the engagement’s settled?”

“The Pans are shrewd, aiming to establish themselves by courting the village’s most influential family. They’re moving fast, afraid of rejection, even bringing their son along. Probably counting on his good looks to charm the young maiden.” Aunt Zhang scoffed. “Personally, I’ve no respect for such people—no good comes of them. Once you’ve moved the mill, keep your distance.”

Shen Qingran listened slack-jawed, utterly stunned by Aunt Zhang’s intelligence network. He glanced at her nervously, terrified she might blurt out his own misdeeds to Xue Feifeng like spilling beans—past humiliations from the original owner when Xue Feifeng was absent, or the recent incident of being pushed into the pond by Pan Yanshan at noon…

No wall is airtight, especially against a whirlwind like Aunt Zhang.

Feeling guilty under her gaze, Shen Qingran sensed hidden meanings in her words, as if she were deliberately hinting at him.

After seeing Aunt Zhang off, Shen Qingran paced around the house twice before eagerly hoisting a hoe. “I’m going to weed the sugarcane field,” he told Xue Feifeng.

In truth, he intended to secretly find the female lead. With the Pan household empty except for her, the opportunity was perfect—he couldn’t let it slip.

Little did Shen Qingran know, farming would forever remain his most transparent excuse—one even a fool wouldn’t believe.

Xue Feifeng’s face darkened with impending fury. The moment Shen Qingran heard about Pan Yanshan’s marriage proposal, his expression changed drastically. Now he was in such a hurry to go out—could he still be delusional enough to try and stop it?

Shen Qingran, do you even have a heart? Don’t you know what pain is?

Xue Feifeng’s thoughts were in turmoil, but before he could speak, Shen Qingran had already walked away with unprecedented urgency.

…

Shen Qingran circled the Pan family’s house, observing carefully. Pan Yanshan lived in the main house, closest to the fish pond. If anything untoward appeared in the fish pond, he would be the most affected.

And the female protagonist… A faint cry came from a storage room.

“Let me out…”

After being dragged back by her brother, the female protagonist had been locked in the storage room the entire time. Pan Yanshan, afraid she might cause trouble and help Shen Qingran escape, lied to their parents, claiming his sister had gone out and made a mistake—accidentally pushing someone into the fish pond. Mr. and Mrs. Pan believed him without question.

Shen Qingran confirmed that only the female protagonist was home and took a deep breath.

It was time for the reunion.

Now was the moment to rely on the power of words!

He hid behind a pile of hay, ensuring that if anyone else was around, no one would know who was speaking.

Shen Qingran cleared his throat and, facing the female protagonist’s small room, enunciated clearly and solemnly, like a documentary narrator—

“The people have faith, the nation has strength.”

Unsure of the era the female protagonist was from, he quickly added another line.

“Socialism is strong; transmigrators meet their kin.”