Chapter 24 – Part 2 out of 3
Qingyan blushed so intensely it seemed he might bleed. The man encouraged him to speak, but he found himself unable to utter a word. Instead, he gently reached out and tugged at the corner of the man’s clothes draped over him, swaying slightly in dependence.
Qiu Henian didn’t press him further.
His voice was extremely low as he said, “What if I hurt you with my confusion?”
Qingyan looked up at him, his gaze like water.
“If it hurts,” he said softly, “I might just bite you hard.”
There were still faint traces of teeth marks on the man’s chest from that first night. Qingyan had bitten him hard in pain, only regaining his senses afterward.
Qiu Henian fell silent for a while, as if pondering something. His voice was hoarse when he said, “The shop burns all day, and it’s hot inside.”
“Yeah,” Qingyan replied, not understanding why he mentioned this now, but still responding.
Then, the man’s voice grew even lower and hoarser as he asked, “Aren’t you hot, Qingyan?”
Qingyan paused, glanced down at himself. He was wearing an outer cotton robe and a padded vest over it. The stove fire was blazing, and even sitting here, he could feel the heat of the flames. He touched his forehead and realized he was sweating.
He was about to answer “It’s quite hot,” but suddenly he seemed to understand something, his eyes widening in realization.
Seeing Qingyan’s understanding, the man took a step back, giving him space.
Qingyan stood up, biting his lip, eyes misty with impending tears, but still willing to lift his hand to undo the buttons at his collar, one by one…
Despite the heat in the shop, his skin directly exposed to the air made Qingyan’s body tremble slightly.
Pale and tender, he leaned into the man’s strong embrace, crying softly in his ear, “You bully me…”
The outer garment draped over the man’s shoulders fell to the ground.
A modern “intellectual giant” was utterly defeated in front of an ancient man.
During the process, Qingyan seemed to hear someone knocking on the shop door from outside, not just once, but he couldn’t care less. Both feet left the ground, hands tightly gripping the man’s arms around his waist and abdomen. When it hurt badly and he wanted to bite, he tried hard to turn his head back, but couldn’t reach it.
Later on, Qingyan’s consciousness became somewhat blurred. He only remembered the stove being very hot and red, and he was very thirsty.
The sun had set, and dusk had fallen.
The surrounding food shops were packing up their stalls, preparing to close and go home.
The blacksmith’s shop, which had been tightly closed for half a day, finally opened its doors.
The apprentice Xiao Zhuang quickly extinguished the fire in the stove, scooped out the cinders with a hook.
He didn’t say anything, but in his heart, he muttered.
He had gone out at noon to deliver goods to the town, and his master had clearly told him to come back early and not to play outside. But he rushed back anxiously, only to find the shop door closed, with no response no matter how hard he knocked.
He thought his master had left for something urgent, but the boss of the nearby steamed bun shop assured him that his master was inside and hadn’t gone out.
He had no choice but to wait outside, going to the steamed bun shop when it got cold.
Later, a woman surnamed Ma from the village came to pick up the newly made iron pot. She knocked on the door for a while, but still got no response. Annoyed, she said she would come back tomorrow to pick it up and left.
Xiao Zhuang waited for over an hour and finally saw the thick, closed door pushed open from inside.
A rush of hot air rushed out, and his master leaned out to look at him, saying, “You’re back.”
Xiao Zhuang thought to himself, “I came back long ago,” stomped his feet to shake off the ash, respectfully calling out, “Master,” and entered the shop.
As soon as he entered, he was stunned because there wasn’t just his master inside. On the makeshift bed where his master had been staying for the past two days, there was now a thin figure lying on it with his back to them, as if asleep.
“This is your master’s wife. He caught a cold on the way here, so I let him rest here for a while,” the master explained.
Xiao Zhuang responded with an “Oh,” speaking in a lowered voice so as not to disturb the mistress.
“I knocked on the door for a long time without anyone answering. Master, did both you and your wife fall asleep?”
As Xiao Zhuang worked and spoke, he didn’t notice the expression on his master’s face. After a while of no response, when Xiao Zhuang felt puzzled and was about to turn back to look, he finally heard his master’s delayed “Hmm.”
Qingyan was carried back home on his back. Luckily, it was dark at the time, and luckily he was already unconscious, so he didn’t know how embarrassed he was.
When he woke up again, it was already midnight.
Qiu Henian leaned against the head of the bed, holding him in his arms and feeding him porridge spoon by spoon. Qingyan felt uncomfortable all over, in severe pain, yet extremely tired, unable to open his eyes and completely lacking appetite. He whimpered, refusing to eat, wanting only to continue sleeping.
Qiu Henian’s attitude was firm.
He said, “Be good, Qingyan. If you don’t eat, we’ll do it again.”
At his words, Qingyan shuddered involuntarily and subconsciously opened his mouth. With eyes closed, he didn’t see the sudden change in expression on the face of the person holding him.
After finishing a bowl of porridge, Qingyan refused to eat anything else.
With eyes closed, he cried, saying, “I’ll die if I eat more.”
The spoon did not approach his lips again, and finally, he was able to sleep again.
It wasn’t until the afternoon of the next day that Qingyan fully woke up.
He heard the sound of pots and pans in the outer room and smelled the aroma of meat, instantly feeling hungry.
He staggered out of bed, draped in a robe, and stepped out of the inner room.
Qiu Henian was scooping up spices like star anise from the soup with a ladle, unaware of the movement behind him.
Qingyan slowly moved over, bent down, and wrapped his arms around Qiu Henian’s neck from behind, softly leaning his whole body against his back.
Qiu Henian turned his head, his hand that wasn’t holding anything gripping Qingyan’s wrist, gently pinching it.
“Awake?” he asked softly.
Qingyan nuzzled into the crook of his neck with his fluffy hair and murmured, “Mm.”
They stayed like that for a while, and Qingyan asked, “You didn’t go out today?”
He originally wanted to ask, “Didn’t you go to the shop today?” But the word “shop” reminded him of yesterday afternoon, where he hadn’t touched the ground with both feet, impulsively standing in that place and getting things done.
Qingyan never thought he could be “licentious” to this extent one day.
“No,” Qiu Henian responded, “Xiao Zhuang is here. He’ll come find me if there’s anything.”
Qingyan blushed gradually from his earlier wandering thoughts. He tried hard to change the topic and divert his attention.
“I heard the rooster crowing outside. Did you feed it?”
Qiu Henian said, “I just fed it in the morning. Maybe it’s hungry again now. I’ll feed it some more later.”
Qingyan nodded and asked, “What about Aunt Li’s courtyard? Did you sweep it for me?”
“Swept it,” Qiu Henian nodded, “Aunt Li gave me a small jar of honey and told me to tell you that drinking it before breakfast clears the intestines and stomach.”
Qingyan chattered with more questions, and Qiu Henian answered each one.
Afterward, both heard the rumbling sound from Qingyan’s stomach.
Qiu Henian smiled and said, “You wait here. I’ll serve you the soup.”
Qingyan moved aside, leaning against the head of the bed, happily drinking the stewed and greasy chicken soup.
The chicken used was a black-bone chicken. Qiu Henian had sent Wang Sanmiao to buy it early in the morning and immediately killed it, removed its feathers and internal organs, and stewed it right away. It had been stewing all morning, until the chicken bones were completely soft.
After finishing the soup, Qiu Henian cleaned up the bowls and chopsticks, then lay down as well. Qingyan nestled softly against his chest, hearing him say, “Aunt Li said you’re going to set up a stall in town on the fifteenth?”
Qingyan replied, “Yes, Auntie’s scented balm should sell well. I also want to try selling some small trinkets.”
Qiu Henian said, “Then I’ll go with you.”
“Okay.”
Qingyan had been lying in bed for three full days this time. On the fourth day, when he could finally get out of bed, his body still didn’t feel very comfortable, but as long as he didn’t do heavy tasks like fetching water, it wasn’t a big problem.
This morning, as Qingyan stepped out of the inner room, he immediately caught a faintly familiar herbal scent upon entering the outer room. After a moment’s reaction, he remembered what the smell was.
Unable to resist, he asked, “Why is there a herbal scent?”
Qiu Henian, sitting on a low stool and tending the stove, turned his head at the question.
“I added some medicinal herbs to nourish the body when stewing the chicken,” he explained.
Qingyan wrinkled his nose again.
“But we finished the chicken soup two days ago. How come there’s still the smell of herbs?”
Qiu Henian didn’t say anything more, and Qingyan didn’t press further. It was just an offhand question for him.
After breakfast, Qiu Henian went to the shop.
Qingyan began preparing for his stall at the Lantern Festival on the fifteenth.
That day, Sister Lan and her husband came to their house. Sister Lan took a liking to the spinning tops Qingyan had made, which gave him inspiration.
Qingyan’s woodworking skills weren’t outstanding, but he had some knowledge about crafting small wooden items. He sketched out the things he planned to make and listed the required materials one by one.
Neighbor Aunt Li also came over and discussed things with him. According to their discussion, Qingyan also made a list of what she needed.
After lunch, Qingyan, Aunt Li, and also Qiniang, along with Liu Fa from the tofu shop, took a ride on his ox-cart to town. They swayed along and made their way to the town.
They bought the materials according to the list in town, and Liu Fa’s cart was empty, so they rode back to the village.
Qiniang kept talking non-stop during the journey, haggling over prices, and both Qingyan and Aunt Li admired her skill.
When they arrived back in the village, Qingyan thanked the driver with a roasted chicken leg.
In the past, people sometimes took rides on ox-carts, but they usually just remembered the shopkeeper’s kindness. This time, because the shopkeeper had specifically made arrangements for the driver to take care of them along the way, the driver had been very polite. He hadn’t expected to receive a big, oil-scented chicken leg, making him extremely happy. He even told Qingyan that next time he went to town, he would look for him.
Back home, they sorted the purchased materials and stored them in Wang the Blacksmith’s room. Qingyan washed his hands and prepared dinner.
The wild boar meat was nearly finished, with just a pig’s head left for the Lantern Festival on the second day of the second month. Qingyan shaved off the pig’s neck meat, divided and cut it, then fried it in oil in an iron pot until it was cooked.
The weather gradually warmed up, and they needed to quickly eat the food stored from the snow. Qingyan reheated the bean buns left over from New Year’s, simmered frozen tofu and soaked seaweed into a soup, and added the roasted chicken legs bought in the afternoon. A sumptuous dinner was prepared.
Qiu Henian came home, washed up, and they sat down to eat.
The pig’s neck meat had a unique texture, crisp and tender compared to other parts. Dipped in Aunt Li’s homemade spicy sauce and wrapped in the lettuce Qingyan bought in town that afternoon, it tasted exceptional.
The two of them quickly finished the plate of meat.
Before bed, as usual, they read for a while.
“Chronicles of Mountains and Rivers” had already been finished. Now they were reading a book Qiu Henian had chosen, titled “Biographies of Immortals,” which recounted the deeds of immortals when they were mortal and how they ascended to immortality, as well as how they punished evil and promoted goodness afterward—it was quite interesting.
However, after a day of bustling activity and with his body not fully recovered, Qingyan started dozing off while listening.
Qiu Henian put down the book, had him lie back on the pillow, extinguished the oil lamp, and returned to bed himself.
Qingyan nuzzled into his neck, rubbed it, and half-asleep murmured, “What’s this smell? It’s quite nice, bitter and fragrant.”
His body stiffened slightly for a moment, but Qingyan didn’t notice because he had already fallen deeply asleep.
Spoiler for the Next Chapter:
Qingyan secretly nestled in Qiu Henian’s arms, watching the relatives and friends ahead who hadn’t noticed anything, feeling embarrassed but unwilling to say anything.
Sleepyblue’s corner:
Hi guys, I hope you’re all doing well… I just wanted to tell you guys that I’ll try my best to upload chapters for the next 3 weeks, it’s not guaranteed but I’ll try my best. We’ve been hit by a really strong typhoon and we’re busy with the aftermaths caused by the calamity. Honestly, I feel disheartened right now, but please be assured that I read and appreciate all your comments, really. I hope you’re all safe and sound.
Sincerely,
Sleepyblue
