Chapter 29: Daily Life

The bright sun streamed in through the small wooden window, illuminating the stove top. In the pot, crucian carp and tofu soup was simmering, with wisps of steam curling upward. The rich aroma was mouthwatering.

Bao Ning sat by the stove, Ah Huang lying at her feet. She was teasing a leech in a jar with a small wooden stick. When she had cleaned the fish earlier, she had saved some blood, and now spooned a little into the jar. The fat leech, attracted by the scent, poked its head out and with a wiggle of its tail, sucked the blood dry.

After a night of rest and having eaten two egg yolks, the leech’s belly seemed noticeably plumper. Bao Ning no longer found it revolting; in fact, she now found amusement in playing with it.

But the leech wasn’t full yet. It lifted its head, mouth agape, asking for more.

Its mouth looked like a round disc, lined with jagged saw-like teeth arranged in a circle. Its gills pulsed. Bao Ning dripped in two more drops of blood—like drops in a large vat, they vanished in an instant.

Seeing the fish blood running low, Bao Ning felt pained. She coaxed it, “Eat sparingly. I’ll feed you again later.”

But the leech wouldn’t yield, still opening its mouth wide. After a moment of hesitation, remembering it was carrying eggs, Bao Ning gave it the rest. Satisfied, the leech shut its mouth and twisted its fat body back into the mud.

Bao Ning placed the lid back on.

From outside came the rhythmic sound of chopping wood.

She stepped out and leaned against the doorframe, catching sight of Pei Yuan’s back. He was shirtless, sitting and splitting firewood. The sun was shining brightly today, and he was sweating—his strong shoulders and back gleaming as though coated in oil.

His waist was narrow and taut, disappearing below his trousers. His spine formed a sunken line down his back.

With each swing, his back muscles flexed and relaxed, brimming with strength.

Bao Ning recalled what Pei Yuan had said to her in the eastern wing: “You can trust me—at any time.”

She really was someone easily moved. Those words had touched her, made her heart ache and tingle. But after a while, as her head cooled, other thoughts surfaced.

Was Pei Yuan truly good to her? Bao Ning couldn’t say.

It wasn’t that he was particularly kind. With that temper of his, he often spoke harshly. Day to day, he wasn’t especially attentive. When he was in a good mood, he might joke around; when in a bad mood, he’d ignore her entirely.

But when danger struck, he protected her—fiercely. It was a kind of protection she had never experienced before. Ji Yun was too young to protect her; her father was too weak—completely incapable of it. Meeting Pei Yuan was an exception.

Bao Ning reflected on why she had married him in the first place. What she wanted was a quiet corner of the world, to raise chickens, plant vegetables, and live a peaceful, content life.

But once, then twice, Pei Yuan had dragged her into storms. The peace she had hoped for had already been shattered. Yet she never thought of leaving.

Perhaps some hidden sense of responsibility was holding her back.

Bao Ning had always believed that, since she had accepted this marriage and accepted Pei Yuan, she would accept all of him—good and bad. She would accompany him, help him become the man he wanted to be. She hoped he would recover his health, that his legs would heal, and that they would support each other and live a stable life together.

At the time, she never expected to want more. She never thought about whether Pei Yuan might someday become her pillar, someone she could truly rely on—like her aunt and Ji Yun, whom she could trust without reservation, knowing they would always stand by her.

But now… she was growing greedy. She hoped Pei Yuan could be like that too.

Bao Ning had always tried to live with a clear head. But now she felt increasingly lost. She no longer knew what to do.

In the yard, chickens were running around. Her attention was drawn to a red-feathered rooster pecking at some peanuts. It tapped at the shells with its beak, cracked them open, but didn’t eat—flapping its wings and clucking once.

In a blink, a gray-feathered hen scurried out from the coop, rubbed heads with the rooster affectionately, and ate the peanuts off the ground.

Bao Ning felt a pang in her heart.

She was envious. She wanted to eat peanuts too.

…

“The soup’s burning.” Pei Yuan had come up beside her at some point. He ruffled her hair and frowned. “What are you daydreaming about again?”

Startled, Bao Ning finally noticed the faint scorched smell. She rushed back into the house.

Ah Huang was spinning in circles, trying to chase and lick his own tail. While dozing, the tip of his tail had dipped into the stove and singed. He was just a simple yellow mutt, with golden fur except for white paws and tail tip. Now his tail was scorched black.

He looked at Bao Ning with wide, pitiful eyes.

Heart aching, she crouched down and hugged him, pressing her face to his and soothing him gently: “Don’t cry, don’t cry. I’ll give you an extra bowl of rice later.” Ah Huang wagged his tail at her.

Pei Yuan said, “Don’t spoil him too much. If you coddle him like this, he won’t listen to you. Dogs have territorial instincts. When they’re young, you need to show them you’re the master.”

Bao Ning knew he was right, but she didn’t like hearing it. She said nothing, only put Ah Huang down, washed her hands, and checked the fish soup.

“Take a break. We’ll eat in about a quarter of an hour.”

Pei Yuan said, “I’m not tired.”

“Still, it’s better to rest…” Bao Ning didn’t turn around as she ladled some soup to test the saltiness. “That female leech is about to lay eggs. In another month at most, we can try to see if it really cures poison.”

She paused, then added optimistically, “I’m sure it will.”

Pei Yuan wrapped one arm around her waist from the side, his voice low: “What if it doesn’t work?”

Bao Ning froze—half from his question, half from his closeness. He was standing at an angle, her ear brushing against his bare shoulder. She could feel his body heat.

And he wasn’t wearing a shirt…

She forced herself to suppress her unease and whispered, “Don’t say such discouraging things.”

Pei Yuan chuckled softly. He didn’t press the topic and instead looked at the soup. “Is it salty?”

“It’s just right.” Bao Ning blew on the half spoonful left and asked, “Do you want to try it?”

Pei Yuan hummed in agreement, took the long-handled spoon from her, took a sip, and praised, “Delicious.”

Bao Ning smiled and turned to get bowls and dishes from the shelf.

Pei Yuan licked his lips. The scent of her hair still lingered near his nose. Watching her small frame move busily about, he stepped forward and offered to take a bowl from her: “Need to wash this one?”

“The water rinse is enough,” Bao Ning said, surprised. Pei Yuan was acting very differently today. He had never cared about these things before, yet now he was helping her with these trivial chores—chopping firewood and washing dishes.

After washing the bowls, Pei Yuan placed them on the stove and stood by watching Bao Ning ladle soup, scoop rice, and reach for the food box.

He stopped her. “What do you need that thing for?”

Bao Ning replied, “The bowl is too hot. I can’t hold it. It’s easier with this.”

“No,” Pei Yuan frowned. “Looks like we’re in the imperial kitchen delivering a royal meal.” He then carried over the low table and set it in place. Turning around, he caught her staring and raised an eyebrow. “What are you looking at me for?”

Bao Ning asked, “You want to eat in my room?”

“Where else?” Pei Yuan leaned closer, and while she wasn’t paying attention, pinched her earlobe. Bao Ning yelped and dodged, twisting her neck in the process and inhaling sharply from the pain.

Pei Yuan gently pressed on her neck. “After the meal, I’ll rub it for you.” It hurt badly, so Bao Ning agreed.

This was the first time they sat and ate together.

Today, Pei Yuan was very different. Bare-chested, he sat across from her and focused on eating. When Bao Ning ladled soup for him, he didn’t complain it was too hot—just blew on it a bit and slurped it all down.

“Hey, it has bones!” Bao Ning tried to stop him but failed.

Pei Yuan moved his tongue and spat out a fishbone. “Swallowed the rest already.” He looked up. “I won’t die from it, will I?”

“Does your throat feel stuck?” Bao Ning asked.

“No. Feels fine.” He scooped some tofu for her with his chopsticks. “Eat more. You’re skinny like a kitten.”

“Okay.” Bao Ning looked down at the soft tofu in her bowl, then looked up at Pei Yuan’s face.

He ate quickly, sweat dotting his forehead. There was something so casual and natural about the way he looked—just an ordinary man enjoying a homemade meal.

For a moment, Bao Ning felt like he wasn’t so lofty or untouchable anymore. As if he’d fallen from grace and was now tinged with the warmth of everyday life. Before, even when they were physically close, it had always felt like there was a barrier between them.

Pei Yuan quickly finished his bowl and went to get more. Bao Ning reached out. “I’ll do it for you.”

“You eat.” Pei Yuan reached for his crutch. “I’m getting a shirt.” After a couple steps, he looked back, a little puzzled. “Where did I take off my clothes?”

“By the firewood pile. Hanging on that hook on the wall,” Bao Ning answered.

Pei Yuan acknowledged and stepped out. Shortly after, he returned with his shirt on and holding something odd in his hand—wooden boards and cloth straps fastened together in a strange shape he didn’t recognize.

“What’s this?”

Bao Ning glanced over and suddenly remembered the walker she’d been trying to make for Pei Yuan. She’d started it yesterday but couldn’t finish drilling holes in the wood. She was going to ask him for help but then got interrupted by that thief.

In her panic, she had tossed the parts aside, and a chaotic night passed. She had completely forgotten.

“It’s a good thing,” Bao Ning mumbled after swallowing her bite. She didn’t know how to describe it and vaguely added, “Once it’s finished tomorrow, I’ll show you. Might be a surprise.”

She wasn’t confident about it and didn’t want to promise too much, worried he might be disappointed.

Pei Yuan didn’t question it, set the contraption aside, and went back to eating. Silence returned.

Bao Ning slowly picked out fishbones for A-Huang. Crucian carp had soft and fine bones—very tricky to handle. But remembering how frightened A-Huang had been earlier, she wanted to treat it to something good.

As she worked, she suddenly heard from across the table, “You’ve never treated me like this.”

…Why was he comparing himself to a dog?

Bao Ning choked and asked, “Have I not treated you well?”

Pei Yuan thought for a moment. “Very well.” Bao Ning pressed her lips together.

“But I haven’t treated you well enough.”

She looked up in surprise. Pei Yuan leaned on his elbow, sitting askew, his black eyes fixed on her. Her heart tightened as she heard him say:

“Bao Ning, I know what you’re thinking.”

He paused, then said, “I’ve never lived that kind of life. I’ve never seen what a normal husband and wife should be like, or how they should get along. Teach me, will you?”

He took her hand and brought it to his lips, gently kissed it.

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