Chapter 393: A Choked-Up Ji Huan

Chapter 393: Chapter 393: A Choked-Up Ji Huan

Xin Ziqi had been too busy to get away all morning, but he managed to stop by just before Ji Huan closed up shop.

Ji Huan had something she wanted to discuss with Xin Ziqi, but thinking of what Zhou had said, she held her tongue and decided not to bring it up.

’Forget it. When the opportunity arises, I’ll have to look into this County Magistrate Pan myself. I can’t risk trying to help Zhou only to get him into trouble. That would be a classic case of good intentions gone wrong.’

Xin Ziqi, however, did have something to tell her.

"I received a letter from the south the day before yesterday. They’ve found what you were looking for. It’s expected to be delivered before the year is out."

Ji Huan glanced at Guan Shan, who was waiting by the horse-drawn carriage, and said in a low voice, "I appreciate it."

On the way back to the village, Ji Huan lifted the carriage curtain and, resting her chin in her hand, struck up a casual conversation with Guan Shan.

"Guan Shan, we made an agreement before. You marry me, and I’ll treat your face. You remember that, don’t you?"

Guan Shan glanced sideways at her before turning his gaze back to the road ahead.

"A direct relationship between a man’s face and his ability to find a wife? What young lady doesn’t want a handsome husband?"

Of course he remembered. Ji Huan had given him a long speech about the importance of one’s face, and those were the two lines he remembered most clearly.

Ji Huan sputtered and gave a sheepish laugh. "Maybe I’m just a shallow person... So, are you going to let me treat your face?"

For some reason, she felt that Guan Shan seemed somewhat resistant to the idea of treating his face.

Ji Huan clearly remembered his reaction at the time; he had been neither overjoyed nor had he shown the slightest bit of interest.

At first, she had assumed he just didn’t care. The more she thought about it, however, the more she felt... yes, it was resistance.

’Why would someone be resistant to having their own face restored?’

’To prefer keeping a scar that’s a bit frightening, even horrifying, rather than repairing it... It’s just not normal.’

Faced with this question, Guan Shan was indeed silent for a long time.

Just when Ji Huan thought he wasn’t going to answer at all, he gave her a reply.

"If it pleases you."

"What do you mean, ’if it pleases you’? This is about you, so you need to make the decision. Don’t try to shift the responsibility to me."

Guan Shan nodded. "Fine."

The answer was direct and affirmative enough.

That made Ji Huan curious. "So you’ve finally come around?"

Guan Shan glanced back at her. "If my wife is destined to be a shallow person, then I suppose a man’s face is indeed quite important."

"W-what’s that supposed to mean?"

"Don’t worry. I’m not talking about you, I’m talking about my future wife."

The words seemed to hold a deeper meaning, yet they also felt oddly familiar.

Ji Huan thought for a moment. ’Hey, isn’t that from my conversation with Widow Xie the other day...’

’This petty man. He didn’t say anything at the time, but he was waiting for this moment to get back at me.’

’An eye for an eye, a tooth for a tooth.’

"You said it yourself, you marry the man, not his face. If you think about it that way, a man’s looks aren’t actually that important."

In contrast to Ji Huan’s forced, humorless smile, Guan Shan seemed far more sincere.

"I don’t want to scare her off at the first hurdle, and I don’t want her affection for me to be diminished in any way. As you said, one must be considerate of the other’s feelings."

It had to be said, Ji Huan was thoroughly exasperated.

This feeling of having her own spear snatched away to pierce her own shield was absolutely maddening.

’And here he was, claiming he had no sweetheart or fiancée, yet now he was talking about his wife. This dense, unromantic man was truly full of surprises.’

Ji Huan suddenly couldn’t resist pouring some cold water on his plans. "I’m a woman of my word. If I say I’ll treat you, I will. But let me be clear up front: I’m not very confident myself. I can guarantee I’ll try, but I can’t guarantee a cure."

Guan Shan looked completely unconcerned. "Knock yourself out."

"Well, if you put it that way, I can rest easy. If it’s a success, everyone’s happy. If it fails, we’ll just be ’gilding the lily.’ It’s not like it can get any worse, anyway."

’Fine, be ugly for all I care!’

Ji Huan let the carriage curtain fall with a SWISH and fell silent.

Guan Shan sat with one knee bent, a whip in one hand. He glanced sideways at the lowered curtain, and when he turned to face forward again, the corners of his lips seemed to curve into a slight smile.

Just as they entered the village, they heard the news of Zhang Weimin’s death.

Ji Huan found it rather sudden and asked around to find out what had happened.

Apparently, he had gone home that morning and caused a huge scene, then left to find Widow Tian.

He’d thrown all shame to the wind, pounding on her door in broad daylight and repeatedly shouting for "Jinlian."

This time, Widow Tian must have been truly rattled. In any case, he banged on the door for a long time, but there was no response from inside.

Frustrated, Zhang Weimin left, muttering curses. He took an ox-cart to town, bought some wine on credit, and by the time he was heading back to the logging camp, he was dead drunk.

The mountain path was steep; he missed his footing, tumbled into a gully, and was killed on the spot.

Luckily, someone coming down from the logging camp to run errands happened to see him. Otherwise...

Ji Huan had Guan Shan drive the carriage back home while she went to West River Gully.

As expected, Zhang Cuicui wasn’t there.

Ji Xuelan had wanted to find a few people to go and help, but the work schedule couldn’t be delayed. Fortunately, some of the villagers had already gone over.

"They say they’re not holding a wake. He’s to be buried tonight."

The family was already poor, and with such a disgraceful death, a grand funeral was out of the question.

After a moment’s thought, Ji Huan went to the Hu Family’s place and had Widow Xie select a few people skilled in handling funerals to go and help.

A short while later, Ji Huan went over as well.

Although Zhang Cuicui had disowned Zhang Weimin in word, she still wore sackcloth and filial mourning attire for him. She knelt beside Little Brother Zhang in front of the memorial, burning paper offerings.

Little Brother Zhang seemed to realize that he truly only had a mother now, and no father. His eyes were red raw from crying.

Zhang Cuicui hadn’t shed a single tear. Her face was completely wooden.

The Liu Family, surrounded and comforted by the villagers, was in a similar state.

She certainly had a weak side, but she was a resilient person at heart. Or perhaps Zhang Weimin had long ago exhausted all her affection for him. So, while she looked wan and sickly, she showed little sign of grief.

When Zhang Cuicui saw Ji Huan arrive with a condolence offering, she came over to express her thanks.

Ji Huan didn’t know how to comfort her, and could only offer a dry, "My condolences."

"I’m not grieving." Zhang Cuicui shook her head, her expression vacant. "I’m just wondering, if I hadn’t argued with him this morning, if I hadn’t driven him away, maybe he wouldn’t have... I killed him."

Ji Huan could see that the young woman’s inner world was teetering on the verge of collapse.

"You don’t have to blame yourself. I heard about what happened this morning. If it had been me, I doubt I could have handled it any better..."

’In that situation, if she hadn’t driven him out, should she have just let him stay and continue abusing his wife and child?’

"It’s just that no one could have predicted he would go drinking, and no one could have predicted he would lose his footing... He reaped what he sowed. None of this was your fault."

Zhang Cuicui stared at her, dazed, her eyes like those of a drowning person. Her hoarse voice cracked with tears. "Really?"

She desperately needed someone to give her an answer, to pull her from the abyss of guilt and self-blame.

"Really. No one will blame you. And even if someone tries to point a finger at you in the future, you just have to remember this: all that matters is that you have a clear conscience."

Ji Huan looked at this young girl, barely in her teens, who had so suddenly lost her father. She leaned in and gave her a hug.

"You need to pull yourself together soon. Aunt Liu is still sick, and everything, inside and out, needs you to take charge."

Zhang Cuicui’s eyes suddenly welled up. "Thank you... thank you."

Zhang Weimin was buried that night, and the very next day, Zhang Cuicui showed up for work as usual.

Before leaving for Yeyang, Ji Huan made a special trip to West River Gully. She happened to run into Cuicui and asked if she needed to take a couple of days off.

Zhang Cuicui shook her head. "I have to work hard. I want to give my mother a good life."

Ji Huan didn’t say anything more, only, "Then keep up the good work."

Ji Xuelan walked over, and the two stood shoulder to shoulder, watching Zhang Cuicui, who had returned to her station and was deftly chopping vegetables.

"Cuicui is improving so quickly. When she first started, she was very careless and could only sort and wash vegetables... Sigh. Even if your father is a good-for-nothing, having one is still better than having none at all."

Ji Huan remained noncommittal.

’People always romanticize things after a death. In the end, it’s just a way of deceiving themselves.’

"Well, I’m off to Yeyang then, Cousin."

"The grand opening is tomorrow. Are you sure you don’t need us to come and help?"

"Xu Laifu is heading over today as well, so we’ll be able to manage. Besides, things are too busy here to spare anyone. It’s better if you and Aunt Xie stay and hold down the fort for me."

Ji Xuelan naturally deferred to Ji Huan’s arrangements.

"Don’t you worry. Nothing will go wrong here."