Chapter 52

Ye Qingshui didn’t fall asleep right away. She lay her head on the pillow. A few strands of moonlight filtered in through the window. Listening to the faint sound of breathing beside her, she felt a strange sense of illusion—As if she could reach out and touch it. The stillness of the night brought a feeling of peace and warmth.

Around 4 a.m., Ye Qingshui woke up and found that Xie Tingyu had fallen asleep holding her foot.

Silently, she drew her foot back and tiptoed out of bed to get dressed and go to the woodshed.

At dawn, Xie Tingyu was awakened by a clattering noise of banging and knocking.

He saw Ye Qingshui bent over a piece of wood, shaving it down. Her casually tied hair was dusted with curled wood shavings. Though her movements were clumsy, they followed a clear method.

The Ye family was in the process of building a new house, so picking up some scrap lumber was easy.

Xie Tingyu was stunned by the scene before him. He asked, “Shuier, what are you doing?”

Without even lifting her head, Ye Qingshui replied, “Making you a bed.”

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Wsa y caklq xsxldv, Dkl Mkdtuw qlzv y vktbvdlpp kd bkp nblpv.

Tl nsxrsple bkxplzq yde nyzxzu pyke, “Fbwkla, rwv vbl osse esod. R’zz es kv xuplzq.”

Tlyakdt vbyv, Zl Ckdtpbwk rwv esod vbl rklnl sq osse pbl bye sdzu byzq-pyole yde bydele lhlauvbkdt shla vs Dkl Mkdtuw.

—

Rd lyazu okdvla, yqvla y pdsoqyzz, vbl Pw qyxkzu qkdyzzu ytalle vs zlv Pw Dkysbl xyaau kdvs vbl Zl qyxkzu.

Rv vwadle swv vbyv vbl lzelpv psd sq vbl Pw qyxkzu qktwale—pkdnl vbl xyaakytl oyp yzalyeu elnkele, jllrkdt vbl tkaz yv bsxl qsa ydsvbla eyu oswze fwpv cl ydsvbla eyu sq oypvle qsse. Mblu xktbv yp olzz xyaau bla sqq lyazu yde cl esdl okvb kv.

Tsolhla, vbl Zl qyxkzu’p dlo bswpl byed’v clld nsxrzlvle ulv, yde xyaaukdt vbl eywtbvla sqq yv pwnb yd yojoyae kd-clvolld pvytl oyp ayvbla wdektdkqkle.

Fs Zl Ckdtpbwk tyhl wr bla sod assx.

The two largest rooms in the house were occupied—one by Ye Qingshui’s parents, and the other by her younger uncle. Mother Ye actually wanted to give up her room, but since her husband had died young, vacating her room would be seen in poor taste.

Mother Ye was worried that her son-in-law might have opinions about this and was about to persuade her daughter to drop the idea.

But Xie Tingyu not only had no objections—he agreed to it readily.

He smiled and said to Ye’s younger uncle, “This room was originally the one you gave to Shuier. We’ve lived in it long enough. Now it’s your turn to get married, and that matters more.”

After saying that, he turned around and neatly dismantled their simple wooden bed and used it as firewood.

During the move, Xie Tingyu was very enthusiastic. He took on all the heavy lifting—carrying the table on one shoulder and balancing luggage with the other. He was busy all morning, barely touching the ground.

Xie Tingyu had a lot of miscellaneous belongings. Once everything was moved into the new room, the space immediately felt cramped.

The room was only a few meters wide—barely enough for two people. Adding another wooden bed would be pointless. One turn in his sleep, and long-legged Xie Tingyu might end up on Ye Qingshui’s bed.

But the bed already there was quite large—a kang-style platform big enough to fit three or four people. Father Ye had originally made it for the future children to sleep together.

Xie Tingyu wiped the sweat from his forehead, a faint smile tugging at his lips.

Ye Qingshui had thought of the same issue. She turned and fetched a few thick ceramic bowls.

The smile on Xie Tingyu’s face slowly faded. He couldn’t help but ask, “Shuier, what are you doing?”

Without a flicker of emotion, Ye Qingshui placed the bowls filled with water in a line along the center of the bed. Looking at the now-divided sleeping space, she calmly said, “Just a reminder for you to stay well-behaved while sleeping.”

The vein on Xie Tingyu’s forehead began to throb slightly.

He seriously wanted to pry open her skull and see what the hell was going on in her head.

“Shuier, what are you thinking? We can’t keep going on like this, can we?”

Xie Tingyu said.

His breathing grew heavier, voice rough, and his eyes darkened.

Ye Qingshui, of course, hoped they could remain like “well water not mixing with river water”—with no emotional entanglements, completely unrelated to one another, so they could each go on to find someone else in the future. With the memories of her past life, she couldn’t deceive herself into continuing a sweet and blissful relationship with him.

Maybe because she had changed in this life, Xie Tingyu was gradually growing interested in her, and perhaps, he might even come to love her one day.

But the sweeter this life became, the more it highlighted how tragically she had been abandoned in the last. Ye Qingshui simply couldn’t make peace with it.

Xie Tingyu stared at her blankly dazed face and repeated his question with emphasis, “We can’t keep going on like this, right?”

Ye Qingshui fluffed up the blanket on the bed, half-kneeling to smooth out the wrinkles.

She didn’t directly express her real thoughts, instead deflecting: “Of course not.”

“Don’t forget—we agreed on one year.”

“On the condition that you follow the rules.”

In the evening, Ye Qingshui neatly laid out the quilts for the two of them, clearly drawing a boundary — she slept on the inside, Xie Tingyu on the outside. Between them sat bowls of water, forming a clear-cut “Chu-Han boundary line.”

Xie Tingyu took off his thick cotton coat, revealing a light gray thermal inner layer. He casually towel-dried his freshly washed hair and sat by the fire to warm up before getting into bed.

It was still early; both were fully awake. Unlike the confused and flustered situation the previous night, this time, they had made specific arrangements during the day.

Under the dim, yellow light, their breathing grew more audible — so much so that one could hear when it quickened or slowed.

Between a mature man and woman, a subtle, unspoken tension stirred.

Ye Qingshui lay stiffly in bed, feeling like even her bones ached from the tension. Her palms began to sweat, and every muscle in her body was taut. In less than half an hour, beads of sweat had formed on her forehead.

She muttered vaguely, “How late are you planning to read?”

“…How about we blow out the lamp?”

She saw his silhouette in the light. After bathing, he smelled faintly of soap, mixed with a masculine scent. The soft glow illuminated his face, making his features appear dazzling — brows like stars, eyes shining brightly. His slightly damp hair was short and cleanly styled.

Ye Qingshui suddenly felt irritated.

It was as if a hidden force within her was waiting to break free — like a seed that had grown too long in the dark, yearning for light, now ready to sprout.

Xie Tingyu responded casually, “I’ll blow out the lamp once my hair’s dry.”

But he, too, was struggling internally. He hadn’t expected that moving into a smaller room would not bring them closer — in fact, she had distanced herself even more. It was like a bucket of cold water dumped on his head — worse than bathing in ice during winter.

After blowing out the lamp, Xie Tingyu lay down. He could hear her breathing — shy and nervous.

For an hour, he lay still, with his heart pounding uncontrollably the entire time.

It was a sweet but torturous kind of awkwardness.

He didn’t dare move either. Sweat had formed on his fingertips. “Shui’er, why haven’t you even turned over once? Aren’t you worried you’ll knock over the bowls in your sleep and soak the bedding?”

He chuckled lightly. “This is really awkward—”

Ye Qingshui turned her face to the side, eyes shut tighter.

Her toes curled instinctively. She was nervous. Despite it being winter, she could still feel the warm presence beside her — and the pressure it brought. Just when she felt her whole body go sore from the tension and her heart racing with unease, the person beside her suddenly lifted the blanket and got up.

With a whoosh, he struck a match and lit the lamp.

Her eyes, adjusted to the dark, flinched at the sudden yellow brightness, and sweat streamed down her forehead.

She saw Xie Tingyu’s eyes — deep as the night sky, with starry pupils under sword-like brows. There was a tangled blackness in his gaze, thick like ink.

He looked at her for a long moment, then silently picked up all the bowls from the bed and poured out the water one by one.

She heard his rough voice say, “Don’t be afraid of me.”

“Sleep. I promise I’ll behave and won’t cross the line.”

“Just sleep well.” He repeated himself.

Xie Tingyu leaned down, tucked her blanket more securely, and gently wiped the sweat from her face with a handkerchief.

After that, he lay back down properly and didn’t move again.

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The next morning, when Ye Qingshui woke up, she saw that the quilt on his side of the bed was perfectly smooth, without even an indentation. The bowl in the center was still standing upright, untouched. Lying on the outer edge, Xie Tingyu slept soundly and calmly, his posture immaculate.

The cool moonlight spilled over his fair face, softening his usually composed features and giving him the innocent look of a young man. His face was so finely sculpted, it looked as though it had been painted.

Ye Qingshui quietly got dressed and climbed out of bed.

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In the depth of winter, as the year-end tasks approached, Ye Qingshui took her pigs to be weighed.

Following Liu Yiliang’s scientific pig-raising advice, every pig she raised weighed over 200 jin (about 100 kg), making her the most sought-after pig farmer in the brigade. Her pigs even outweighed the second-place farmer’s by over 30 jin. The extra weight above 200 jin earned her bonus rewards from the collective.

In total, she received over 20 jin of bonus meat from three pigs, plus the standard 10 jin distributed to each household — totaling 30 jin of pork.

Granny Ye was absolutely ecstatic. Thirty jin of pork — even setting aside 10 jin — was more than enough to host a proper banquet.

Ye Qingshui traded five jin of pork for pig offal that no one else wanted. One set of offal weighed about ten jin. With five jin of fatty pork belly, she got three full sets.

She kept ten jin for making preserved meats and sausages, and saved the rest for her little uncle’s wedding feast.

Granny Ye grumbled about her wasting good pork, poking her granddaughter’s forehead in frustration:

“Shui girl, you’re really wasting food!”

Standing beside them, Xie Tingyu instinctively raised his hand to block Granny Ye’s rough fingernail.

Granny Ye’s finger jabbed straight into her grandson-in-law instead, and her face darkened.

Was everyone rebelling now? She couldn’t even discipline her granddaughter anymore?

Ye Qingshui stared in surprise.

Xie Tingyu realized what he’d done and quickly explained, “Swapping five jin for thirty jin of offal — that’s a good deal…”

Ye Qingshui smiled sweetly and said, “We got the better end of the deal, even if others aren’t happy about it. Granny, we foolish folks have our blessings too.”

“Pig offal can be delicious, you know. Don’t look down on it. Just wait — I’ll cook a meal that’ll make your mouth water. Uncle, go call your new bride. Brother Yu, get Yiliang to come eat too.”

She quickly cleaned the three sets of pig offal with salt, vinegar, and ginger — thoroughly and repeatedly. Two sets were preserved for later use; one was cut into small pieces.

The big pot in the firewood shed simmered with bone broth that had cooked overnight — creamy white, rich and hearty.

She tossed in a spice bundle wrapped in cheesecloth — containing over 30 carefully measured ingredients including Sichuan peppercorns, fennel, white pepper, dried orange peel, and angelica.

Meanwhile, she chopped dried chilies and mixed them with sesame, ginger powder, five-spice, and soybean oil — frying it into a bright red chili oil that glistened and gave off an irresistible aroma.

She added the chili oil into the broth and stirred — the soup turned vibrant, its flavor rich and bold.

At noon, she used bricks to build a makeshift stove in the courtyard, moved the pot outside, and called everyone to eat.

Ye Ma saw the glossy, red-hot pot and couldn’t stop salivating. She quickly set out the bowls and rice.

Once everyone was seated, they watched as Ye Qingshui gently skimmed the foam off the surface. Floating in the vibrant soup were chunks of tender, flavorful ingredients.

Besides the five members of the Ye family, Du Xiaohe, Liu Yiliang, and Zhou Tingting also came over for the “pig slaughter feast.”

Some outsiders laughed at Ye Qingshui for raising pigs so diligently, only to waste her hard-earned meat — but as soon as they smelled the aroma wafting out, their mouths watered uncontrollably.

“What are you all waiting for? Eat!” Ye Qingshui called out.

Her little uncle slapped his forehead and picked up a piece of pig’s blood. It had soaked up the rich broth and was tender, smooth, and soft — melting in the mouth, releasing hot, spicy juice. He was instantly satisfied.

Du Xiaohe smiled shyly and cautiously picked a piece of pork intestine, thinking it wasn’t proper to eat too well at her fiancé’s house. But the moment she tasted it, the intense flavor stunned her — crispy, tender, and utterly delicious. Before she even swallowed the first piece, she was already reaching for another.

Zhou Tingting and Liu Yiliang were just as astonished. Was this the same smelly offal they once knew? Now it was so fragrant they could hardly keep their tongues in their mouths. Fresh, hot, perfectly tender — just the right doneness.

Zhou Tingting was sweating from the spice but felt overwhelmingly satisfied. All her year’s hardships melted away in that moment of joy.

Liu Yiliang ate and drank with his head down, determined to stick close to his sister-in-law in the future — where she went, the big meals followed.

As for Granny Ye and Ye Ma? They had completely forgotten about “wasting” the pork. Wiping the oil from their mouths, they ate heartily.

Xie Tingyu drank his wine, watching Ye Qingshui’s eyes curve into a smile — and his heart, too, was full.

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