Chapter 5

Zhou Tiezhu passed over more than 100 taels of silver to Song Zhiyuan, the money he had earned from selling the tiger. He told Song to use it wisely, to build a better courtyard, and maybe even buy a few extra acres of land before he left in the spring.

"I won't be back for a few years once I join the army," Zhou Tiezhu said, his voice steady but with an edge of determination. "If you’re willing to marry Dingxiang to me, I don’t want her to suffer. Make sure she’s well taken care of."

The two of them sat side by side on the cart, with Zhou Tiezhu watching Song Zhiyuan drive, his eyes fixed on the road ahead. In his hand, he clenched a silver hairpin, engraved with symbols of prosperity and wealth—a gift for Song Dingxiang, his promise, his future.

Song Zhiyuan glanced over at him as he steered the cart. "Where did you hear that?" he asked. "She’ll be fine here while you’re gone. No one’s going to mistreat her. You need to focus on staying safe out there. Just come back in one piece, that’s all that matters."

Zhou Tiezhu gave a low hum in response. He wasn’t one for many words, and neither was Song Zhiyuan. The silence between them stretched, only broken by the rhythmic roll of the cart wheels.

Song Zhiyuan, the older of the two, finally broke the silence, his tone more practical than warm. "I’ve already told Wang Dama to handle the betrothal gifts. She’s the village head's wife—half matchmaker, half organizer. She’ll make sure everything goes smoothly, so don’t worry about it."

Zhou Tiezhu rubbed his hands together, wiping the blood-soaked mud from his fingers, a little lost for words. "I’m not worried," he muttered. But the unease in his eyes betrayed him. There was more on his mind, but neither of them were in the mood to say it.

Song Zhiyuan scanned the road quickly, ensuring no one else was around, and then lowered his voice to a more serious tone as he leaned in towards Zhou Tiezhu. "Listen up," he started, speaking with a deliberate, forceful clarity, "my daughter’s just a kid—only fourteen. Even if you two go ahead and tie the knot, there’s no way in hell you should... well, you know. Her body’s not even fully grown yet. It’s a goddamn risk to be thinking about kids at this point. You’re just seventeen yourself, and when you get back in a few years, you’ll barely be in your twenties. There’s no rush. Are we clear?"

Zhou Tiezhu’s face, already a deep shade of red, flushed even more, and his words stumbled out nervously. "I... I get it, Uncle. Don’t worry, I won’t... I won’t do anything like that."

Song Zhiyuan exhaled sharply, his eyes hardening as he let out a dismissive grunt. "I'm not trying to give you a hard time. I just need to make sure we're on the same page. My concern is simple. If you do something reckless, and you don’t come back, my daughter’s left to raise a kid all alone. That’s a shitty life, and I won’t let her go through that. Think about it. You’ve got your own life ahead of you, and she’ll need someone who can stick around. Hell, I raised her right—she deserves more than to be left holding the bag."

Zhou Tiezhu shuffled uncomfortably, his face full of embarrassment as he muttered, "Uncle, I understand... really."

Song Zhiyuan's lips curled into a knowing smile as he studied the younger man, his tone turning almost approving. "You should consider yourself lucky, kid. You’re marrying Dingxiang, and while she may look all delicate and fragile, she's tougher than you think. She’s more than capable."

Zhou Tiezhu nodded vigorously, as if trying to prove he was on board with the idea. "I know, Uncle. Marrying Dingxiang is a damn good deal for me. And if I don’t make it back, everything’s on her."

Song Zhiyuan's expression darkened once more, and he shot him a warning look. "Quit talking like that. I couldn’t care less about your possessions. The only thing I care about is that you come back safe and in one piece. You got that?"

Zhou Tiezhu wiped the sweat from his forehead, clearly feeling the pressure mounting. "I got it, Uncle. I swear."

As the ox cart rumbled into the village, the bustling scene in front of Old Third Song San’s house caught everyone’s eye. People were coming and going in a flash, clad in vibrant reds and greens, creating a lively atmosphere that felt impossible to ignore.

Song Zhiyuan leaned forward, curiosity sparking in his eyes. “Is Third Uncle’s family celebrating something?” he asked, half to himself, as he studied the busy scene unfolding.

When the cart finally returned to their yard, Song Zhiyuan hopped off, his attention immediately drawn to Fang Shi. She was in the midst of beating and drying quilts in the yard, muttering under her breath as she worked. Without missing a beat, he called out, “Hey, what’s going on at Third Uncle’s house? Something big happening?”

Fang Shi turned, a smile pulling at the corners of her lips as she noticed Zhou Tiezhu standing nearby. “Ah, Zhou Tiezhu’s here,” she remarked with a hint of warmth in her voice, before directing him, “Go warm up in the upper room. Aunt Wang’s got the betrothal gifts ready, and they’re in the back courtyard. You’ll want to check them out later.”

Zhou Tiezhu gave a quick nod, stepping forward to grab the chicken feather duster from Fang Shi’s hands. He began helping with the quilts, his movements quick and precise. The quilts had been neglected for far too long—since last year, in fact. It was long overdue for them to be aired out, but with all the recent chaos, there hadn’t been time for the whole household to get around to it, especially with Jin Qiao’er and the old lady struggling to keep up with the constant laundry and cleaning.

Fang Shi glanced at her son-in-law, amusement flickering in her eyes as she watched him. When he asked about Old Third Song San’s family again, she couldn’t help but frown, her tone becoming pointed. “You still don’t know, do you? Oh, come on… Your Third Uncle’s family—well, their eldest, your eighth uncle’s daughter, Song Taohong—she’s something else, I tell you. Real exceptional.”

Song Zhiyuan looked confused, brushing off some grass and dust from his clothes as he squinted at her. “Song Taohong? What’s so special about her? And why are you back so early today? Isn’t the shop busy?”

Fang Shi scoffed, an edge creeping into her voice. “You still don’t get it, do you? Taohong’s getting married. And guess who she’s marrying?”

Song Zhiyuan’s eyes widened in surprise. “What? Taohong’s getting married? Why didn’t I hear about this?”

Fang Shi gave a sharp, knowing laugh. “Because they’re too embarrassed to say a word about it!”

Fang Shi stood there, her eyes slicing through the yard as if ready to take on the world, her voice just loud enough to make sure it hit every ear nearby. "Song Taohong isn't marrying just any man. She's marrying the scholar from the Xu family. They were up early, hitting the shop before dawn, ordering up all the pork for the wedding feast. Tomorrow, she’s heading into the Xu family for good. And today? We slaughtered a pig for the shop, and most of it’s already sold. There’s hardly anything left to do now."

Song Zhiyuan’s expression twisted with frustration, his brow furrowing as his face darkened with embarrassment. This whole mess was a damn slap in the face to their family’s pride, to Dingxiang’s name.

The Xu family, the same one that had ripped his engagement to pieces barely two months ago, was now laughing in his face by marrying Taohong—his cousin—like it was some kind of joke for everyone to point and laugh at.

"What the hell was Third Uncle’s family thinking?" Song Zhiyuan’s voice cracked with the strain of it all, his temples throbbing with the ache of it all.

Fang Shi let out a sharp, mocking laugh, her tone dripping with disdain. "Who the hell knows? As soon as you two left, they stormed over here like it was some kind of emergency, begging Mom and Dad to arrange everything. But of course, Dad pretended to be sick, and Mom, ever the dutiful wife, said she couldn’t go because she had to look after him. So, they turned to the eldest brother-in-law. What does he do? Says he hasn't chopped firewood yet, so he’s off to the mountains. And the eldest sister-in-law? She says she’s too busy with Dad and even had the nerve to suggest I go in their place. Ha! Yeah, right."

Her laugh was bitter, as though the very thought of being dragged into their mess was the ultimate insult.

Old Third Song’s behavior was beyond ridiculous, absolutely out of line. His granddaughter, Taohong, was two whole years older than Dingxiang. And though Taohong was undeniably stunning, with impeccable taste, the Song family didn’t have much money. So, no one ever bothered to bring her up for marriage. They were stuck in this awkward limbo, unable to make a move.

But of course, nobody saw it coming when she ended up marrying into the Xu family.

The Xu family—well, their son was a scholar, set to marry Taohong. He’d even secured a job, working and studying at the same time. The betrothal gifts were overflowing, the kind of generosity that could make anyone’s head spin. The entire Song San clan was over the moon, giddy with excitement.

But, here’s the kicker: while the Song family had always been nothing but straightforward, honest folks, somehow, they had managed to raise a girl as cunning as Taohong.

Fang Shi couldn’t shake off the memory of what Dingxiang had said about someone pushing her back then. The anger in her chest surged again.

She was about to speak her mind, to say something sharp, when Song Dingxiang emerged from the upper room, pulling the door curtain aside. “Mom, Dad, it’s cold outside, come inside and warm up. Oh, and you too, come on in,” she said, her voice sweet and casual.

The second Fang Shi heard her daughter’s voice, all that pent-up fury just deflated, leaving nothing but a chuckle. “Who’s ‘you’?” she asked, her tone teasing as she let go of the anger.

Song Dingxiang flushed and quickly slipped inside the room.

Fang Shi shared a knowing look with Song Zhiyuan, then, still smiling, made her way to the upper room, ready to follow her daughter.

Zhou Tiezhu, cheeks flushed with embarrassment, gave the quilt a few awkward pats as he tried to pull himself together. But before he could fully recover, Song Zhiyuan was already pulling him back, his voice clear and firm, "Come on, let’s head inside. Wash your face and hands, it’s almost time for dinner."

The scent of food drifted through the air, thick and mouth-watering, as Zhang Shi, Song Dingxiang’s aunt, worked her magic in the kitchen, filling the entire house with the tantalizing aroma of a well-cooked meal.

Once inside, Song Zhiyuan wasted no time. He reached into his coat and pulled out a pouch of silver, placing it confidently on the heated brick bed table with a knowing smile. "Here’s the money from selling the tiger," he said, his voice steady. "Tiezhu insists all of it should go to Dingxiang. She can use it to pick a spot nearby for a big courtyard in the spring, and the rest should go toward buying a few more acres of land."

"Dad!!" Song Dingxiang’s face burned with surprise and embarrassment.

On the sidelines, Song Xingyi, pretending to be sick, chuckled to himself before teasing, "Now, now, son, don’t mess with my granddaughter too much. Go on, sit over there. Where’s Tiezhu?"

"He’s washing up outside, covered in mud," Song Zhiyuan responded with a laugh, making his way over to a bench by the door. He pulled back the curtain and called out, his voice lighthearted but commanding, "Tiezhu, did you finish washing? Don’t scrub too hard, you’ll still be dark as night. Alright, alright, come on in."

The room filled with a chorus of laughter.

Zhou Tiezhu, mortified, had no choice but to swallow his pride and follow orders, walking into the room with his head low, the defiance that usually burned in his eyes nowhere to be found. He sat down quietly next to Song Zhiyuan, his gaze firmly fixed on the floor, avoiding the teasing smiles and sidelong glances.

Fang Shi, lounging on the bed with an almost mischievous glint in her eye, tossed a neatly wrapped parcel to Zhou Tiezhu. She looked at him intently and said, "I’ve made you two brand-new outfits, so for the next few days, don’t even think about heading up the mountain. Stay put and behave yourself."

Zhou Tiezhu caught the parcel and immediately pressed it to his chest, the soft texture of the cotton jacket inside sending a rush of warmth through him. As his fingers traced the fabric, he felt a tightness in his throat, his eyes starting to well up unexpectedly.

"Food’s ready!" Aunt Zhang’s voice rang out as she walked in, her cheerful demeanor cutting through the tension. "Tiezhu, you’re here? Come sit down. Auntie’s made you some meat today, just the way you like it."

She turned to Song Zhiyuan, who had been quietly observing, and continued, "Your eldest brother took a few of the kids out, so could you go find him for me?"

With a polite nod and a faint smile, Song Zhiyuan replied, "Of course, I’ll go right now." The bite of resentment that had lingered from the earlier incident with the third son's family began to dissipate, leaving behind a more neutral, calm expression.

As he made his way out, Song Zhiyuan caught sight of his cousin, Song Zhixing, striding towards him. Song Zhixing, with his weathered face and freshly pressed cotton robe, was the picture of someone about to enter a new chapter of life, soon to be a father-in-law through his daughter’s upcoming marriage to the scholar Xu.

"Brother Zhiyuan!" Song Zhixing bellowed, a grin spreading across his face. "We’re having a big family feast today. You have to come, no excuses!"

Song Zhiyuan’s smile was tight but polite, the faintest hint of reluctance in his voice as he responded, "I really appreciate the invite, but with Father still not doing well, I just don’t think it’s the right time for a celebration. Plus, I’ve got pigs to round up this evening—busy day ahead."

Song Zhixing’s expression faltered only for a second before he clapped his hands together, exclaiming, "Fine, I’ll check with the village head first then. Take care, Brother!"

Song Zhiyuan, utterly disgusted by his brother's shamelessness, yanked him back and shot him a sharp, demanding look. “Eight Brother,” he growled, “Do you even realize what’s going on? The Xu surname scholar just broke off his engagement with Dingxiang right here at our house. You’re aware of that, right?”

Song Zhixing’s face flushed a deep crimson as he awkwardly stammered, “Yeah, I know… but, I mean, it’s just a coincidence, right? Our Taohong is getting older, and this is the perfect match—rare even, honestly.”

He knew the whole situation wasn’t exactly proper, but the thought of Taohong’s preferences, and the chance for her to marry into a scholar’s family, was tempting. After all, a high-ranking official position for the son-in-law would set her up to be an official’s wife—how could anyone pass that up?

Song Zhiyuan let out a low, mocking sneer, his eyes narrowing. “You knew all about it and still thought it was okay to come over here and eat? What were you thinking, Eight Brother? What were our third uncle and aunt thinking, huh?”

Now Song Zhixing’s face was practically on fire. His words stumbled out, more awkwardly than ever. “This… this is just pure happiness, right? Brother, come on, don’t hold this against me. You know our family’s situation. We don’t have the wealth you do. Your Dingxiang—whether she marries up or down—will always be alright. But us? We’re different. We’re... poor.”

“Enough with your excuses,” Song Zhiyuan snapped, cutting him off. He couldn’t even be bothered to entertain his brother’s pitiful excuses. Weren’t they poor because of their own damn choices?

At first, he had thought about asking their third uncle and some of the other family members to learn how to slaughter pigs, at least to make some money, but those cowards had turned pale and retched at the thought. As if that wasn’t enough, they weren’t exactly the brightest either, couldn't manage something as simple as money, and couldn’t even hold a conversation without stumbling. They were only good at scraping by from the land, and that was it.

Every year, when the family gathered to visit relatives for Chinese New Year, there was always one thing that managed to rub everyone the wrong way—the endless whining about how poor they were. It was the same broken record each time, and it got under everyone’s skin.

"Unfortunately, I can’t make it today. Since tomorrow is an auspicious day, it wouldn’t be proper to visit either. But don't worry, I've sent my sister-in-law with a gift for you. I truly apologize for any inconvenience, Eighth Brother. Please, excuse me."

With that, Song Zhiyuan bowed, swished his sleeve, and made his exit like he had better places to be.

Song Zhixing, visibly irritated, furrowed his brow but held his tongue. He just lowered his head and walked off toward the village head's house, clearly not in the mood for any more nonsense.

As for Fang Shi's eldest sister-in-law, she knew her role: she had to make the trip herself with the gift. She didn’t bother complaining, simply nodded after a quick chat with Fang Shi, and they pulled together a package—six pouches, a pair of pillowcases, some leather for parcels, and a basket of eggs.

Now, in this village, this was considered a pretty damn generous gift. Only those with a bit of extra cash could afford to be that giving.

But Old Third, Song San, took one look at the gift and shook his head, letting out a heavy sigh. "Looks like we’ve really pissed someone off..."

Tong Shi, the wife of Third Uncle Song, just rolled her eyes and muttered, "What can we do? Dingxiang dug her own grave. How the hell did she end up in that river? Rescued by that poor bastard Zhou Tiezhu? Some people just can’t catch a break. It’s their fate, I guess. But once Xu Qiang lands himself an official position, even if they get rich, they’ll still be lowlifes, just a bunch of butchers."

After she finished, she took one last look at the gift, picked up the pillowcases, and said, "These will do for Tanghua’s dowry. The rest can go to Taohong as side gifts." She shook the basket of eggs with a satisfied grin and headed straight for the kitchen.

———Author's Note: I actually spent Mid-Autumn Festival in a game yesterday, but today my mom is here. We are having stewed fish for dinner and going out for seafood tomorrow. Hahaha.

———T/Note: Hey there, gorgeous readers, how about dropping a little more feedback in the comments, hmm?

I thrive on your opinions, so don’t hold back—let me know what’s working and what’s not. I’m all ears, and I can’t wait to hear what you think!