Chapter 41

After A Sen left, Fu Tingjun discussed with Zhao Ling, "I want to go see if that woman holding the child is still there."

Zhao Ling was puzzled.

Fu Tingjun explained, "Since Mo Yi has been handling all our meals these days, we might as well give our steamed buns and water to others. Perhaps it could help someone in urgent need."

An irrepressible smile spilled from Zhao Ling's eyes.

He had thought that after what happened with her uncle, she would never trust anyone again, never sympathize with the orphaned, widowed, or weak. But unexpectedly...

"Alright!" He smiled at her, his gaze bright, gleaming like pearls and jade, making Fu Tingjun stare at him a little dazedly. "Be careful, don't let anyone notice. If a crowd rushes over to snatch things, you might end up hurting yourself."

"Mm!" Fu Tingjun collected herself and nodded repeatedly. "I'll give it quietly, without letting anyone find out."

Zhao Ling still gave her a few more instructions before letting her out the door.

The woman was still in the same spot, sitting on the straw mat with a dazed expression, holding the child. The man who had been scolding her was nowhere nearby.

Fu Tingjun seized an opportunity to approach the woman, signaling with her eyes for the woman to follow her.

The woman hesitated for a moment—perhaps because she had nothing left to lose and wasn't afraid of anyone coveting what she had—she finally followed Fu Tingjun to the back courtyard of the shop where they were staying.

Seeing that no one was around, Fu Tingjun handed her a pouch of water and two steamed buns. "This is all I have—use it to tide you over!"

The woman stared at the food in her hands, and only after a long moment did she react. Tears streamed down her face, her lips trembling as if she didn't know what to say. She held the child and knelt before Fu Tingjun, kowtowing repeatedly.

Fu Tingjun quickly helped the woman up. "Get up, please. This is all I can do for you. Hurry and feed your child!" Fu Tingjun gently touched the child lying limply in its mother's arms, its hair sparse and yellow. "The child is so hungry it has no energy left!"

The woman nodded incessantly, murmuring "thank you" over and over, and started to kneel again with the child to kowtow.

Fu Tingjun firmly held her up and wouldn't let her, and only then did the woman stop. She asked for a bowl and a spoon, broke off a small piece of the dry steamed bun, soaked it in water, and sat eagerly on the threshold to feed the child.

Fu Tingjun sat nearby, watching.

Ever since her uncle passed away, she had been thinking about what happened to his family.

They had been doing a good deed—so why did it end up inviting a wolf into the house, leading to the ruin of the entire family?

Was doing good deeds wrong?

She had been taught from childhood to "benefit one's neighbors, pity the orphaned and widowed, respect the elderly, and cherish the young." Why was there such a gap between reality and what she had been taught?

It wasn't until she met Sixteenth Master at the City God Temple—that man dressed like a shopkeeper, holding silver in one hand and a sword in the other—that something stirred in her heart.

Helping others without the ability to protect oneself, flaunting one's wealth, only invites others' covetousness and puts oneself in danger. It's a very risky thing. Only when one has the ability to protect oneself can one truly care for the orphaned and needy and benefit one's neighbors.

That's why there's the wise saying: "In poverty, one cultivates oneself; in prosperity, one benefits the world."

Now that Mo Yi was protecting them and they had extra food, she finally dared to help the woman.

Even so, she didn't dare give all the food to the woman at once. She was afraid that if the woman went back, other refugees would become envious, and without the ability to protect herself, the woman might be robbed—or even killed—turning a good deed into a tragedy. She also feared the woman might harbor ill intentions and scheme against her...

Seeing Fu Tingjun watching her, the woman said shyly, "I need to feed the child. I'm afraid they'll snatch the buns away."

Fu Tingjun smiled and nodded at her to show she understood, and only then did the woman relax.

The child, perhaps unaccustomed to it, held the food in its mouth for a long time without swallowing at first. But after a few bites, once it tasted the flavor, it began gulping down mouthful after mouthful, wolfing it down.

A joyful smile began to spread across the mother's face, and watching it warmed Fu Tingjun's heart too.

She asked the woman, "How old is the child?"

"Ten months and five days!" the woman said happily. "Born on the first day of the winter month in the year of the Goat. The fortune-teller said his birth chart is very auspicious." As she said this, something seemed to occur to her, and she hurriedly said to Fu Tingjun, "How about—let him be your adopted son?" Before she even finished speaking, she realized she had misspoken and scrambled to her feet. "Miss, look at me—I'm so happy I've lost my senses... You're not even married yet... The child's life was saved by you... I just wanted to repay you for saving his life..."

In the countryside, there was a custom of taking on adopted sons to pray for fertility.

Fu Tingjun knew the woman meant well and smiled without taking offense.

The woman apologized profusely, only stopping when the child began crying in dissatisfaction because the food had run out. She sat back down with an apologetic look and continued feeding the child the soaked bun paste.

Fu Tingjun reminded her in a low voice, "Don't feed him too much. When someone in our family is sick, we let them go hungry for a few days first, then only give them thin porridge, and at first only half a small bowl... After going hungry for so long, eating too much at once will make them uncomfortable."

The woman nodded and immediately put down her spoon as instructed.

But the child wouldn't have it and burst into loud crying.

The woman then paced back and forth in the courtyard, bouncing the child in her arms to soothe him.

"You're a young lady from a great household, aren't you?" the woman said, striking up a conversation with Fu Tingjun.

A young lady from a great household?

She had been once, but now... she was just like them—a person in distress. Only her luck had been better; she had encountered Zhao Ling.

She smiled and shook her head.

But the woman didn't believe her. "Miss, if you have dirty clothes that need washing, just call for me!" Then, afraid of being misunderstood, she quickly added, "I don't want food in return—I just want to repay you for saving my life." After saying this, she laughed awkwardly.

When even drinking water was a struggle, what was the point of talking about washing clothes?

"My husband always says I'm clumsy with words," she explained haltingly. "Please don't take it to heart, miss." She closed her mouth and said no more.

Fu Tingjun found the woman rather amusing. She asked her, "What's your name?"

"My husband's surname is Zheng, and he's the third in his family," she said after a moment's hesitation. "My surname is Tian. Since I was born in the fifth month, I was called Wuyue."

She had shared her birth name as if treating Fu Tingjun as one of her own.

Only close family friends or master-servant relationships would share birth names.

Treat others with respect, and they will treat you with respect in return.

Fu Tingjun said, "Then I'll call you Zheng Sanniang!"

"No, no!" the woman quickly said. "Please, just call me Wuyue!"

Seeing that the woman was honest and simple, Fu Tingjun didn't argue with her. Instead, she smiled and changed the subject: "I thought you had gone to Xi'an Prefecture?"

"We came from Xi'an Prefecture," Zheng Sanniang said. "Xi'an Prefecture now only lets people out, not in. Everyone's been driven to Jiuligou. My husband said if this continued, there would likely be an epidemic, so he brought us to Linchun Town..."

Fu Tingjun was somewhat surprised. She hadn't expected such a rough man to have such insight.

As if guessing that Fu Tingjun didn't think highly of Zheng San, Zheng Sanniang said, "My husband used to escort caravans for a security firm. But after seeing his fellow escorts die or be crippled one after another, he didn't want to live that kind of life anymore. So he saved up some money and bought a few acres of land back in the countryside." Her eyes shone brightly with pride—it was clear she was very proud of her husband. "Whether it's escorting caravans or farming, he's skilled at both." Her gaze gradually dimmed. "It's just these bad times that have turned him into what he is now." As she spoke, she took a deep breath and forced a bright smile. "But even so, he treats us mother and son very well. He brought us all the way through the hardships to Xi'an Prefecture. When there was nothing to eat and others wanted to trade children with us, my husband wouldn't agree..."

Fu Tingjun's heart ached, and tears nearly fell.

Zheng Sanniang quickly comforted her: "It's alright, it's alright. Now we've met you, miss... Our little one's birth chart really is auspicious..."

Fu Tingjun smiled and sniffled. "Where's your husband?"

"He went outside the town, saying he'd see if he could find some tree bark and white clay..." At this point, Zheng Sanniang let out an "Oh no!" and stood up hastily. "He told me to stay right there and not move, saying he'd be back soon..." She looked up at the sky—it was almost noon. "Miss, I need to go back now. I'll come kowtow to you later." With that, she tucked the remaining food into a corner of the back courtyard and said to Fu Tingjun somewhat sheepishly, "Saving it for tomorrow!"

"But what about you..." Fu Tingjun looked at her in surprise.

"We adults can go a few days without eating, but a child can't go hungry." On Zheng Sanniang's sallow face, there was a faint radiance that rivaled pearls and jade, leaving Fu Tingjun speechless for a moment before she finally said, "It's alright. Tomorrow I'll get you some more. Just eat your fill for now..."

Zheng Sanniang shook her head. "Thank you, miss!" She looked at Fu Tingjun with sincere eyes. "Times are hard for everyone. The fact that you'd spare food from your own rations to give us is already more than we could ask for. How could we let you keep supporting us..." With endless gratitude, she carried her child and left.

As she left, she carefully closed the courtyard gate behind her.

Fu Tingjun stood in the courtyard for a long time before turning and slowly going upstairs.

"What's wrong?" Zhao Ling asked softly. "Your nose is all red. Did that woman upset you?" A sharp glint flashed in his eyes.

Fu Tingjun, lost in thought, didn't notice. She shook her head gently. "No..." and recounted what had happened.

Zhao Ling smiled, his brow relaxed and carefree. "So there are still good people in this world!"

Fu Tingjun nodded with a smile. Remembering that she had been gone for so long, leaving Zhao Ling lying in bed alone with no one to attend to him, she hurried to pour him some cool boiled water. "What did Ninth Master do this morning?"

"Nothing much," Zhao Ling said as he drank. "Slept the whole morning."

How boring that must be!

Fu Tingjun said, "If only we could find some leisure book to read!" As she spoke, her eyes lit up. In times of famine, food was scarce—but surely no one would want books!

"Wait a moment, let me go look for it." Remembering there was an accounting room downstairs, she hurried down the stairs despite Zhao Ling's attempts to stop her.

Downstairs, Mo Yi was trying to light a fire at the kitchen stove.

Thick black smoke billowed out, filling the entire room. The firewood remained firewood, and the cold pot remained a cold pot.

He coughed while muttering curses under his breath.

Clearly, he was completely unskilled at cooking and tending fires.

When he saw Fu Tingjun, he looked as if a great weight had been lifted from his shoulders, his face lighting up with surprise as he said, "Miss Fu, you should know how to cook, right?"

Miss Fu... Who told him her surname was Fu... This Mo Yi was truly not simple.

Fu Tingjun snorted inwardly, widened her eyes, and said with an utterly innocent expression, "Me! Back home, it was always the kitchen maids who did the cooking!"

Mo Yi's mouth fell wide open, and it was a long while before he closed it again.