Chapter 28

Here's how it happened.

Xiaohua had been leading the way, but once it got dark, it was as blind as a bat, so Chen Jue had to keep pulling it along. So Huo Lin took the lead instead.

Huo Lin used his machete to part the underbrush and thickets, and that's when he startled a pheasant that was blind as a bat in the dark.

"Shh." Huo Lin grabbed Chen Jue's arm to hold him back, then whipped off his shirt and threw it over the bird.

Chen Jue watched his back and thought, damn, he's way too good at taking his clothes off. Guess he's learned his shirt works better than his arrows.

But Chen Jue was just griping to himself—at least they'd finally get some meat.

Thinking about chicken and mushroom stew, Chen Jue's steps felt lighter on the way back. Huo Lin, worried he might trip in the dark, reached for his arm, but Chen Jue waved him off.

He'd checked Huo Lin's back that afternoon as part of his doctorly duty. He still wasn't his husband.

Huo Lin was a proud man. After being rejected, he didn't say a word the rest of the way, and he didn't reach out again.

Chen Jue nodded. They were both adults—a friendship between gentlemen, light as water, was enough to keep the peace.

By the time they got home, it was pitch dark, so the chicken would have to wait till tomorrow.

Good food is worth the wait—as long as it's tied up so it can't get away. Chen Jue watched Huo Lin tie the bird up tight and felt relieved. He then boiled up a pot of mixed stew, this time with more mushrooms and greens so it wasn't as bad—at least in Chen Jue's opinion.

Across from him, Huo Lin ate in silence. Toward the end of the meal, he let out a sigh like he couldn't hold it in anymore.

Chen Jue pretended not to hear. After eating, he soaked his feet and got up on the kang to rest. He couldn't fall asleep right away, but there was nothing else to do in the pitch dark.

Of course, he wasn't short on lamp oil anymore—he could gather rush pith for wicks, and he'd stockpiled plenty of oil and made several lamps. But those had been for writing his book and drawing anatomy diagrams.

He couldn't do that now.

Chen Jue lay on the hard kang, unable to sleep, and felt Huo Lin watching him.

Huo Lin was on his side, across the small table, peering at him through the gap under it.

What was he looking at? Had checking his back today cleared up his suspicions about his belly?

Or was he still suspicious? After all, Chen Jue wasn't really his husband.

With that thought, Chen Jue rolled over, turning his back to him.

At some point, he fell asleep.

The next morning, when Chen Jue got up, Huo Lin was in the yard killing the chicken.

He killed it right in front of the rooster—that annoying rooster was now trembling and hiding up in a tree.

The pheasant had colorful feathers, especially its long tail, like a little phoenix, with a bright red comb—a real rooster among chickens.

And Huo Lin had chopped its head off with one stroke. If that could happen to a rooster like that, what chance did the house rooster have? So the big rooster had tucked its head under its own belly.

Good.

Very smart.

Chen Jue saw that Huo Lin had already slit the bird's throat, and he hurried to light the fire—finally, meat today.

Once Chen Jue had boiled the water and Huo Lin had plucked the feathers clean, Chen Jue poured water into the pot, ready to make a one-pot stew—his specialty. He figured the chicken broth would make it taste better this time.

Huo Lin said to him, "Take a break. I'll cook."

"?"

"Soak some of the dried mushrooms you've got. Grab some peppercorn skewers and dried chilies too."

Chen Jue did as he said and fetched them.

Huo Lin poured out the water Chen Jue had added, heated the pot with oil, and threw in scallions, chilies, and peppercorns. Within moments, the smell drifted to Chen Jue's nose.

Chen Jue sat at the doorway, couldn't help glancing toward the kitchen.

He was a bit surprised. In this world, men didn't set foot in the kitchen—they'd rather starve than cook, saying "a gentleman stays far from the kitchen."

It seemed Huo Lin had been pushed to his limit by Chen Jue's cooking.

Fine then. He'd see what this guy could cook up.

Watching Huo Lin in his coarse clothes, stirring and flipping at the stove, Chen Jue still couldn't quite get used to it. After all, that face...

That face, in his past life, had been synonymous with having the final say, with being picky and exacting, with ordering people around and dismissing their efforts for a research project that was never going to work, with caring only about his own goals and never about what others put in.

Now watching him wash his hands and cook, it was jarring, but Chen Jue felt a weird sense of satisfaction.

Not that it made much sense—this Huo Lin was just unlucky enough to have Huo Jilin's face. He didn't deserve Chen Jue's resentment.

So Chen Jue took a deep breath and looked toward the distant mountains. Even if only for the sake of that mouthwatering smell, he should try to get along with him peacefully, Chen Jue.

Until you've saved up enough silver and still have to live under his roof, quit giving him the cold shoulder.

Chen Jue took action. He picked up the clothes Huo Jilin had hung on the drying rack to patch them up. Yesterday, Huo Jilin had used his outer robe to catch the chicken, lunging so fast that the inner shirt underneath had been torn open by the brambles.

Their household wasn't well-off—two sets of outer clothes, and only two sets of inner shirts.

If he didn't sew it, Huo Lin would have nothing to change into. He couldn't let the guy sleep shirtless.

Chen Jue couldn't cook, but he was great at sewing. He stitched very carefully, the seams as neat as if he were closing a wound. There were other worn spots on the clothes too, and Chen Jue patched them with a piece of beige linen.

He was so focused on his sewing that he didn't notice Huo Lin standing at the doorway watching him, his eyes distant. If not for the bubbling sound from the pot, Huo Lin might have forgotten the chicken was still cooking. He snapped his gaze away and hurried back to check on his pot.

They finally had some meat—he couldn't let it burn.

That day, Chen Jue ate fragrant chicken and mushroom stew.

The pheasant wasn't fat and had little meat, but the broth was incredibly tasty.

It was packed with rehydrated dried mushrooms, which had soaked up the oil, making the soup rich and fragrant without being greasy.

A bit of chili for kick—Chen Jue thought the mushrooms tasted better than the chicken.

The soup was excellent too. He ate two full bowls of the solids and drank two bowls of broth. Huo Lin had cooked a whole pot, and the two of them finished it off that morning.

Stuffed to the gills, Chen Jue sat under the eaves holding his belly, not wanting to move.

As he shelled dried cypress seeds, he wondered—how had he managed to eat all the way up to his throat?

It must have been the baby in his belly eating for him. Not him.

Huo Lin was off to the side, sharpening a knife and splitting bamboo, starting to make his bamboo arrows again. It seemed he hadn't given up on the idea of hunting.

Once Chen Jue had rested a bit after eating, he went to prepare a remedy for Huo Lin's ligament strain.

His injury was the sort involving strained ligaments and bruising from falls. Besides building up his nutrition and boosting his blood and qi, he could also apply a topical herbal medicine to ease the pain and help him heal faster.

He was still young and healed fast. Even though the injury was serious, with the right care he could get back to how he was before.

Chen Jue whipped up a strong batch of medicine for him. Medicine isn't all the same—older herbs pack more punch. Luckily, he was a herb collector.

And he collected them by season, too. Fall and winter were peak seasons for colds, headaches, and lower back strains, so his stash had all the herbs he needed.

Chen Jue sorted the herbs by type and, come evening, had Huo Lin grind them slowly himself. The slow grinding was gentle exercise, and since the medicine went on at night, the movement left his muscles a bit loosened up.

Then he slathered on the herbal paste. Since he cooked every day now, the kang stayed warm, and the heat would draw out the medicine's effects, helping him heal quicker.

Chen Jue's mix wasn't exactly a miracle cure, but since the herbs were all wild and top-notch, Huo Lin felt a lot better within three days. Especially at night, when the heat of the kang brought out the medicine's special kick, burning through his shoulder blades and getting his blood moving—he felt his whole body lighten up.

Those painful days felt like they were behind him.

He lay on a pillow stuffed with wild grass seeds, turning his head to look at Chen Jue.

He couldn't move his body because Chen Jue had slathered the medicine on thick before bed and told him to stay put.

His shoulder was out of commission, but he could still tilt his head to watch Chen Jue sleep.

Chen Jue was still asleep, facing away from him. The blanket was thin, and the bright moonlight outside cast faint shadows into the room. He could make out the shape of Chen Jue's body, his arms curled around his own stomach.

Chen Jue was dead asleep, with no idea of the complicated look the man behind him was giving him.

Huo Lin had been back for five days when Village Head Zhou came up the hill to the Huo place again, this time with drums and gongs banging.

Last time the drums meant somebody had died. What was it this time?

The villagers came out, nervous, to see what was going on. This time, a county official led the procession, with Village Head Zhou showing the way, and two bailiffs behind holding up big placards. It looked super formal, like somebody had aced the imperial exams. The crowd trailed after them.

This looked like good news.

"What's going on? No one from our village took the imperial exams."

"Of course not—we haven't produced a scholar in years, not even a child candidate. Zhou Shuyao only had a few years of private schooling. Who can afford to study?"

"They seem to be heading to the Huo house. Let's go see."

Out in the yard, Huo Lin was splitting firewood with an axe. He stood up when he saw the whole noisy procession pull up to the gate.

Village Head Zhou smiled at him from behind the fence and said, "Huo Lin, Chief Clerk himself has come to deliver your reward! Open the gate!"

Huo Lin had told him a few days ago that an announcement would come, and he hadn't expected it to be true. This time, the county magistrate's chief clerk had come in person—a ninth-rank official!

And most importantly, Huo Lin had truly rendered meritorious service.

Village Head Zhou gripped the fence tightly, watching the document in the chief clerk's hands with complicated feelings.

The chief clerk, with his goatee, confirmed Huo Lin's identity twice before unrolling a document.

He read it out in flowery official language for a while, but the villagers only caught a few phrases.

Huo Lin had achieved outstanding military merit, and the Grand General of Valor had specially petitioned the emperor to bestow upon him the title of Guerrilla General.

Because Huo Lin wished to retire from military service, he was appointed Regional Commander of Dongling County.

He was to assume office after his wounds healed. Additionally, he was rewarded with one hundred taels of silver. The village of Pingshan was exempted from three years of corvée labor and three years of taxes.

This was explained in plain language by Zhou Shuzong, who had a bit more education.

Village Head Zhou was stunned. The chief clerk had insisted on reading the document only in Huo Lin's presence, so he was just learning of this himself.

Village Head Zhou never imagined that the words he had spoken to soothe his own guilty conscience would come true.

Huo Jilin had not only survived but had achieved outstanding military merit—not only being named Guerrilla General and appointed Regional Commander of Dongling County, but also securing three years of exemption from corvée and taxes for the entire village. What great merit this must be.

Just days ago, the families of those who had died received only two taels of compensation silver, with no mention of exempting corvée or taxes.

His expression shifted as he looked at Huo Lin. He had hoped Huo Lin would do well, redeem himself, so that no one would hold his family's crimes against him again. But he never expected Huo Lin to become so formidable. If he ever found out what he had done...