Zhou Song found a large stone by the roadside, took off his outer garment, and spread it over the stone. His internal heat kept him warm, so even in just a thin layer, he didn’t feel the chill. But Kun Ze’s health wasn’t great, and the stone was cold; he didn’t want him to get sick again from sitting on it.

Shen Qingzhu didn’t refuse his kindness. He pulled Zhou Song to sit beside him and let Zhou Song’s arm rest around his shoulder. Shen Qingzhu tilted his head to look at him.

Zhou Song rubbed his nose, unable to meet his gaze. “It’s getting chilly near evening, and I was worried you’d get cold.”

Shen Qingzhu smiled and didn’t argue, leaning his head onto Zhou Song’s shoulder. He was someone who didn’t mind small comforts and would naturally seek them when he could.

With Shen Qingzhu resting on him, Zhou Song held back a smile, tightening his arm around him slightly. “I suppose you’ve heard bits and pieces about my situation from around the village.”

Shen Qingzhu didn’t deny it and nodded.

“My father was the only Qian Yuan in Qi Shan Village back then, unlike me. My grandparents were both Zhong Yong, so to have a Qian Yuan born to them was really something rare, and the entire village was stunned when he manifested…” Zhou Song continued, recalling how Granny Zhou had always spoken about this, making it impossible for him not to know. “Since then, my grandmother pampered my father in every possible way, practically wanting to give him the best of everything…”

Because of this, Zhou Dashan, my uncle, started feeling bitter over time. My father, Zhou Dashu, felt guilty toward his brother, so whenever Granny Zhou gave him something nice to eat or play with, he’d often secretly share it with Zhou Dashan.

But in Zhou Dashan’s eyes, these gestures were nothing but flaunting. His attitude toward my father grew colder, filled with sarcastic remarks and mocking glares.

My father, Zhou Dashu, was soft-hearted and felt guilty toward his elder brother, so he would always tolerate it and never argue.

When they grew older and reached the age for marriage talks, Zhou Dashan got engaged to Hu Lan, while Granny Zhou started planning to find a Kun Ze wife for my father, hoping that the Zhou family bloodline would strengthen each generation.

But my father, who usually went along with everything, opposed her this time. He’d set his sights on Zhao Yuzhi from the neighboring village and insisted on marrying her.

Granny Zhou would never agree to that. Zhao Yuzhi was not only a Zhong Yong, but her mother had passed early. Her father remarried and had a son with his new wife, leaving Zhao Yuzhi with little status in her own home.

Still, my father was unusually stubborn this time. He was determined to marry Zhao Yuzhi, pleading with Granny Zhou for a long time.

In the end, he married her, but Granny Zhou didn’t approve and would constantly pick on her. Though Zhao Yuzhi entered the household around the same time as Hu Lan, most of the household chores fell to her.

Having grown accustomed to being slighted by her father and stepmother, Zhao Yuzhi could endure it, especially since my father treated her well. Whenever he returned from hunting, he would help her around the house.

But the better he treated her, the more Granny Zhou disliked her, always wearing a cold expression and never saying a kind word.

It was tolerable while my father was home, but when he went into the mountains, Granny Zhou’s treatment worsened, even going as far as slapping her at times.

My father, normally mild-mannered, argued with his mother over this. But every time, Granny Zhou would sit on the ground, wailing about his unfilial behavior, forcing him to back down.

With time, Granny Zhou grew bolder, sometimes scolding my mother even in my father’s presence.

When I was born, they hoped that having another male in the family might ease things.

But things didn’t go as they’d hoped. Perhaps because Zhao Yuzhi had worked hard from a young age and was never truly healthy, I was born weak and sickly, with a cry like a kitten’s.

Granny Zhou was both angry and resentful, scolding Zhao Yuzhi for ruining her son’s Qian Yuan bloodline and giving birth to a sickly child, claiming she had come to the Zhou family to settle a score.

Meanwhile, my cousin Zhou Xiaofu, two years older than me, was as sturdy as a calf. Granny Zhou pinned all her hopes on him, dreaming he would become a Qian Yuan like my father and carry on the Zhou family’s excellent bloodline.

The comparison naturally made Granny Zhou despise me and my mother. She’d give Zhou Xiaofu all the good food and clothes, leaving nothing for me.

Only my parents, pitying me, would secretly give me extra to build up my health.

This continued until one day, Zhou Xiaofu snatched my food and shoved me to the ground, splitting my head open. Even then, Granny Zhou defended him, insisting it was my own carelessness.

Seeing my bloodied head and my tearful mother, my father finally snapped after years of enduring. He made the resolute decision to move out. Even as Granny Zhou cried and cursed, he didn’t back down.

“Those first few years were indeed tough, but my parents were both hardworking. My father worked and hunted to earn money, while my mother managed the household. Soon, things got better.” Despite the hardships, Zhou Song felt happier living away from the main Zhou household.

Shen Qingzhu raised his head at some point, listening intently to the Qian Yuan recounting his past, his eyes unwavering.

Zhou Song glanced over at him. “What’s up?”

Shen Qingzhu shook his head and smiled before leaning back on Zhou Song’s shoulder, speaking softly, “And then?”

Zhou Song lowered his gaze.

When I was ten, my father had an accident in the mountains. They brought him back covered in blood, and my mother staggered when she saw him, staying on her feet only because she saw me.

Granny Zhou arrived upon hearing the news, crying and cursing, blaming Zhao Yuzhi for dragging her son to his death, and pounced on her, clawing and slapping. I stood in front of my mother and took a few blows.

Aunt Qian came and pulled her away, holding my mother, who was dazed and had tears in her eyes.

After that, we cut all ties with the Zhou family. When my mother passed the following year, they didn’t even come to see her, let alone care about me, left behind as a young boy.

Aunt Qian offered to take me in, but I refused, insisting on managing alone. She finally agreed, stopping by each day with food.

Then, when I was fourteen, I transformed into a Qian Yuan. As for Zhou Xiaofu, even nearing seventeen, he showed no signs of transformation, making it clear he’d remain a Zhong Yong.

Suddenly, my grandmother, who had always looked down on me, started treating me warmly, visiting often with food and calling me “her precious grandson,” as if all those years had never happened.

What I’d yearned for as a child had come true, but I didn’t feel happy. Instead, it all felt ridiculous. Granny Zhou’s kindness was only because of my Qian Yuan status, not any family bond.

I held no hope, no attachment, only a bad-natured thought that her sudden affection might anger Zhou Xiaofu and Hu Lan, and remind my uncle, who’d left my father to fend for himself, of his place as the unloved one.

So I accepted her fake affection, occasionally visiting that “home” I never wanted to step foot in again, finding pleasure in their forced politeness.

Hearing this, Shen Qingzhu chuckled softly.

Zhou Song looked at him, puzzled.

“I thought you were a pushover, letting them bully you.” Shen Qingzhu lifted his head from Zhou Song’s shoulder. “Good thing you’re no spineless victim.”

Zhou Song smiled. Lin Erzhu thought he was a pushover too, but in reality, he simply didn’t care enough to bother with those people. His sadness stemmed from memories of his parents.

Shen Qingzhu reached out, held his face, and pulled at his cheeks, distorting his handsome features until he laughed, leaning onto Zhou Song’s shoulder.

Seeing his happiness, Zhou Song laughed too, unbothered by the teasing.

“Zhou Song,” Shen Qingzhu called his name. When he responded, Shen Qingzhu said, “Smile more often. You look nice when you smile.”

Zhou Song froze, then nodded solemnly, brushing his chin over Shen Qingzhu’s hair. “Alright.”

After a moment of quiet, Zhou Song looked at the darkening sky and, worried about the chill, said, “I should take you back; Aunt Wu Lanshu might worry.”

Shen Qingzhu agreed and let Zhou Song help him up. After putting on his coat, they headed back.

When they reached the house, Wu Lanshu was pacing worriedly. Seeing Shen Qingzhu safely returned with Zhou Song, she finally relaxed and invited him to stay for dinner.

Zhou Song hesitated, but she tugged him in, saying, “You two are already engaged. There’s no need for shyness, and besides, I’m here.”

Unable to refuse her hospitality, Zhou Song followed her in.

That day, Aunt Wang had gifted Wu Lanshu a large pumpkin. She’d used part of it to make porridge, which had been simmering for a while and was now thick and sweet.

She and Shen Qingzhu both had small appetites and didn’t eat much at night, so she’d only planned on a simple dish of greens and eggs. With Zhou Song there, she quickly sliced the preserved meat he’d brought earlier, frying it with garlic sprouts from the backyard, filling the air with a savory aroma.

She also reheated a plate of pork buns from lunch, steaming hot and appetizing.

With all the dishes ready, Wu Lanshu handed Zhou Song a bowl of porridge and a pair of chopsticks. “Eat up, Zhou. If it’s not enough, I’ll make more.”

Zhou Song took the bowl with both hands, a bit nervous about eating with them alone for the first time.

Shen Qingzhu, ignoring the interactions, took a sip of the porridge. It had simmered long enough to be perfectly sweet, and he nodded in satisfaction.

Then, he picked up a piece of egg, soft and just to his liking.

Zhou Song occasionally glanced over, silently noting Shen Qingzhu’s preferences.

“Don’t just look at me; eat.” Shen Qingzhu placed a piece of meat into Zhou Song’s bowl.

Caught, Zhou Song lowered his eyes, putting the meat into his mouth with a quiet smile.

Wu Lanshu watched them, smiling and shaking her head.

The warm, steaming dishes, the gentle candlelight—three people gathered around the table, and the autumn chill seemed to vanish.