Zhou Song lifted his foot towards the main hall. Just at the doorway, he bumped into a visibly displeased Zhou Xiaofu, who shot him a look that was all cold sniffs and disdainful glances before twisting his head and stomping back to his room. Zhou Song didn’t care at all, keeping his gaze steady as he entered the main hall.

Inside, only Granny Zhou and Hu Lan remained. As he stepped in, he overheard the old woman saying that Zhou Xiaofu was getting older but still had the temperament of a child. “How is he supposed to run a household in the future?” she sighed.

Hu Lan, sitting beside Granny Zhou, took the chance to speak up on behalf of her son. Her eyes flicked toward Zhou Song when he walked in, her smile fading for a moment before it lifted back up. “My nephew’s back,” she greeted him.

Granny Zhou’s stern expression softened at the sight of him. “Ah, Song, come sit by Grandma here. Why were you gone so long?”

Obediently, Zhou Song walked over and took a seat beside her. She grasped his hand and patted it. “Just spent some extra time talking with Father and Mother.”

“A devoted son, always thinking of his parents,” Hu Lan chimed in with a sly smile.

Zhou Song glanced at her but didn’t respond.

Not minding his silence, Hu Lan continued, “Now that my nephew’s all grown up, if you really want to set your parents’ minds at ease, isn’t it about time you found yourself a wife?”

Her words hit Granny Zhou right in her soft spot. “Yes, Song, you’ll be twenty next year. How long will you be living all alone like this? Do you have any plans for marriage?”

To Granny Zhou, her grandson was perfect in every way—except when it came to marriage. His unhurried attitude toward finding a partner, always going about his days alone, left her worried. She even had moments when she, as his elder, wanted to step in and make the decision for him. But he was so stubborn, quiet on the surface yet inflexible deep down. She feared that if she pushed too hard, he might shut her out entirely.

“Maybe my nephew’s standards are just high,” Hu Lan’s voice turned mockingly sweet. “Not even the daughter of Li Yuanwai seems to catch his eye. Wonder what kind of goddess he has in mind?”

Zhou Song raised his gaze. “This is no concern of yours, Auntie.”

“Of course, of course. My nephew is a man with his own ideas. I wouldn’t dare worry,” Hu Lan said, her tone layered with false humility. She turned to Granny Zhou. “I’m only asking because your grandmother can’t seem to stop worrying about you.”

This time, Granny Zhou was firmly on her side. “Your aunt says this for your own good, Song. Really, what do you think about marriage?”

Zhou Song looked down, his mind conjuring up an image of that clear and gentle face belonging to Kun Ze. He pressed his lips together slightly and replied, “I don’t have any particular plans. I don’t want to marry.”

“What kind of talk is that?” Granny Zhou gave him a sharp look. “Who doesn’t get married? You need someone by your side to care for you, to have a few children. A lively family life—what’s wrong with that?”

Then, softening her tone, she continued, “I think Li Yuanwai’s daughter would be a perfect match. She’s raised in a well-off family, sure to be well-mannered and knowledgeable. And she’s a Kun Ze—there aren’t many Kun Ze in the surrounding villages. It would be a great match. Your children would inherit both Qian Yuan and Kun Ze bloodlines. Our Zhou family would thrive more and more, and your grandfather would surely be happy from where he rests.”

Zhou Song remained silent, his eyes still lowered, showing no reaction to Granny Zhou’s heartfelt persuasion. No matter how wonderful Li Yuanwai’s daughter might be, she wasn’t the one he held in his heart.

Hu Lan listened closely on the side, hoping he would agree but also hoping he wouldn’t. If he did, their family could establish a wealthy connection, and they would surely benefit. But a part of her resented the idea, not wanting this unpleasant boy to secure such a good marriage and make her own son look bad in comparison.

Whenever Zhou Song came by now that he was of marrying age, he was sure to be pestered about taking a wife. It was the same old script, usually just going in one ear and out the other. But today, after honoring his parents’ memory, his mood was especially sour, and he found himself growing irritable.

He frowned. “Can we talk about something else?”

Seeing his demeanor, Granny Zhou sighed and dropped the topic.

But Hu Lan gently chimed in, “Nephew, your grandmother only wants the best for you. Sometimes you should listen to what your elders say—don’t hurt her feelings.”

This kind of insinuating talk wasn’t new from Hu Lan. Zhou Song shot her a glance without responding, instead turning to Granny Zhou. “Earlier, you were outside on the mountain. Are you feeling alright now?”

“I’m fine, just getting old.” Granny Zhou patted his hand, and the conversation drifted to another topic, much to Hu Lan’s annoyance. She opened her mouth as if to say more, but finding no room to interrupt, she finally stood up, claiming she would check on how the meal was coming along.

Zhou Song watched her annoyed figure leaving the room, his expression calm and unaffected.

He remembered his childhood here when his mother was still around. Hu Lan would often speak to her in the same insinuating way, but his mother’s gentle nature meant she never held a grudge. Still, Hu Lan had never appreciated her kindness, always competing over every little thing.

After all these years, Hu Lan was more restrained on the surface, but she hadn’t changed at all inside.

When she left the main hall, she didn’t actually go to the kitchen but instead headed straight to her son’s room.

Zhou Xiaofu was still fuming, especially after Granny Zhou’s scolding, so his mood was sour. Seeing his mother enter, he said nothing, continuing to shell peanuts and stuff them into his mouth.

Unbothered, Hu Lan went over and sat beside him. “How many times have I told you not to throw tantrums in front of your grandmother? If you want to complain about your wife, do it in private. Acting like this only makes you seem immature.”

“Tch. In her eyes, only her precious Qian Yuan grandson is good enough. Nothing I do is ever right.” Zhou Xiaofu snorted, throwing the peanut shells to the floor without a care, leaving a mess that he fully expected Wang Cuixiang to clean up.

“I know, I know, but you should still put on a good show,” Hu Lan brushed peanut bits off his lap. “Granny is still in charge of the household for now. You don’t want her leaving everything to that kid, do you?”

“He’s already been given his share of the family assets! Why should he still get any of the good stuff?” Zhou Xiaofu was visibly annoyed, his voice rising.

Hu Lan tapped him lightly, signaling him to lower his voice. “You know your grandma; she’s always favored Qian Yuan. She used to dote on your uncle, and now she dotes on his son. Even though he’s moved out, who knows if she’ll still show favoritism?”

“She’s senile, I tell you. Zhou Song doesn’t even care for her, yet she still…”

“Enough, let’s not dwell on that. Just make more of an effort around her. Even if it’s just for show.” Hu Lan herself was frustrated that Granny Zhou had always sided with Zhou Song, but she had to rein in her son’s temper so he wouldn’t end up with nothing.

Though still unhappy, Zhou Xiaofu said nothing more.

Seeing him somewhat appeased, Hu Lan added, “Speaking of, your wife’s lack of fertility really isn’t helping matters. You’ve been married for years, and she hasn’t even given us a single child. No little one to keep the old lady’s heart on our side.”

Mentioning his wife brought Zhou Xiaofu to a boiling point. “Can’t bear a son, doesn’t even know how to be pleasant. Always with that sour look, as if she’s been wronged! It’s annoying! Mother, if you ask me, we might as well just get rid of her. She’s useless.”

The idea tempted Hu Lan. It had been years without any progress, and she could only wait so long. But divorcing Wang Cuixiang wasn’t simple. To find a better wife, they’d need a good deal of money.

Moreover, while Wang Cuixiang wasn’t exactly likable, she did work hard. Over the years, Hu Lan had become quite accustomed to letting her handle all the chores. Replacing her might be inconvenient.

She weighed her options but chose to reassure her son, “If you really don’t like her, we’ll bring in a concubine once we have some savings. This time, I’ll find someone who knows how to please.”

Zhou Xiaofu’s eyes lit up instantly. “Mother, what about that new guy in the village, Shen Xiaolang? He’s attractive, a Kun Ze—should be quite fertile!”

“Shen Xiaolang…” Hu Lan hesitated. The young man had come from a big city, and he certainly carried himself differently from their village folks. It didn’t seem like he’d be interested in someone like Zhou Xiaofu.

“What’s the problem, Mother?” Zhou Xiaofu sensed her hesitation, tugging at her sleeve. “Sure, he might act all high and mighty now, but in the end, he’s just a Kun Ze with no family support. He’ll have to marry someone eventually. Their family has fallen on hard times, so who are they to look down on us?”

Seeing her son’s reasoning, Hu Lan found herself agreeing. After all, without family support, he’d have to settle down sooner or later, and her son would be doing him a favor by taking him in.

“Of course, our son is great; he’d be a match for anyone,” she murmured. Yet, she hesitated. “The only worry is that he’s used to the lifestyle of a young master…”

“Tch. A Kun Ze, living in the village, will have to lower his standards eventually.” Zhou Xiaofu stroked his chin, picturing how he might maneuver the situation. Once they were together, Shen Xiaolang wouldn’t have a choice but to accept him as a husband.

—

Zhou Song finished his lunch and didn’t stay long at the Zhou household. He had no interest in forcing himself to endure their company any longer than necessary. Heading back to East Village, he stopped first at his backyard to feed the chickens. He had left too early that morning and hadn’t had the chance. The chickens, hungry as ever, clucked and crowded around him, with a couple of the more impatient ones even flapping their wings and trying to snatch food straight from his hand.

Zhou Song stepped back, raising the little basket of feed. His expression remained impassive as he gazed at the noisy flock. Animals, sensing danger more sharply than people, quickly settled down under his silent pressure, waiting obediently at his feet.

Only then did he lower the basket, scattering feed on the ground. The chickens dispersed and pecked at the grains, allowing Zhou Song to collect the eggs they’d laid earlier, which he set aside in a pottery jar in the kitchen.

He paused, then changed his mind. Instead of putting all the eggs away, he packed some in a basket. It was a festival day, after all. It didn’t seem right to show up empty-handed at someone’s home for dinner. They probably didn’t need eggs, but it was the thought that counted.

Besides the eggs, he added a few pieces of cured meat he’d prepared himself. He planned to head over a little early so that Aunt Qian could have time to prepare an extra dish or two.

After getting everything in order, he washed his hands in the courtyard. Noticing the bow hanging on the main room’s wall, he suddenly remembered something. Putting down the water basin, he entered the storage room where he kept his tools and miscellaneous items.

On a small wooden table by the window lay a bow, smaller than the one outside. He picked it up, studying the intricate patterns carved along its length in the sunlight. Unlike his plain, polished bow, this one was crafted with care, even wrapped in leather for a better grip.

This was the bow he had promised to make for Shen Qingzhu. It had been finished for a while now, but he hadn’t found an opportunity to give it to him. As a Qian Yuan, visiting a Kun Ze’s house frequently would only invite gossip.

Today, however, with everyone gathered, might be the perfect chance to give it to him openly.

His brows knit slightly, as he worried if doing so in front of everyone would seem too forward.

After a moment, he shook his head. No, it would actually appear more natural to present it in front of everyone. Besides, he trusted those present not to spread rumors.

Relaxing his brow, he traced the delicate patterns he had carved into the bow. Zhou Song had never been the type to fret over details, but when it came to Shen Qingzhu, he always found himself hesitating a little longer.

He couldn’t help but recall how his mother used to worry when his father went into the mountains. Even though he was the strongest man in the village, she would always frown and remind him to be careful. Zhou Song hadn’t understood her back then, because to him, his father was unbeatable. Why worry?

Only after his father passed did he understand that fear. And now, he understood his mother’s heart back then.

When faced with someone you care about deeply, it’s natural to feel hesitant, anxious, uncertain.

Not because of weakness—but because of how much you care.

Setting down the bow, Zhou Song shifted his gaze to the arrows stacked beside it. He had personally crafted each one, a full set of ten. If they weren’t enough, he would happily make more.

He took a new leather quiver from the table, placing the arrows inside one by one, smoothing the feathers on each carefully.