Chapter 25: Three Merge into One

Chapter 25: The Third Watch

The savory mutton buns were served at dinner. Upon hearing that it was Wen Xi who had the family in mind and suggested Yan Fengan buy them, Yan Shichang, who rarely spoke, nodded at him and said kindly, "Little Xi, that was thoughtful of you."

The two kids ate until their mouths were dripping with grease, yet still complained it wasn't enough, sighing that it would be great if they could have mutton buns every day.

Li Wan chuckled and said, "You two act like you're the Jade Emperor, wanting mutton buns every day? Even the deepest pockets couldn't keep up with you two little gluttons."

Delicious food wasn't just appealing to children—even Wen Xi, who didn't ask for much, found himself savoring the taste.

He truly wished that one day he could be as free-spending as Shen Yun.

But neither he nor Yan Fengan had managed to earn much money. After buying the brush and ink with the loose silver his mother-in-law had given them last time, not much was left.

Never mind mutton buns—even a few-copper candied hawthorn needed thinking over before buying.

Buying things for the family was only right, but with money only going out and never coming in, it simply wasn't sustainable.

That night, Wen Xi and Yan Fengan huddled together under the same quilt, fretting over money on one hand while feeling flustered thinking about what Tiezhu had said about having kids during the day.

He'd never done any research on the subject, so he was pretty clueless about the marital bed. Now that he was sleeping beside Yan Fengan, his mind inevitably drifted to impure thoughts.

Back when he used to wash clothes by the river, he'd heard married women say that once a couple slept together, a bun would soon be in the oven.

For men who carried children, it was harder than for women, but with good health, having three or five wasn't out of the question.

His body was in much better shape now than before—who knew if he might suddenly end up with a bun in the oven.

Previously, the thought of having a child with Yan Fengan had felt like the end of the world. Now he actually thought it was a good thing.

With a child, his relationship with Yan Fengan might become more solid.

Wen Xi felt both anticipation and fear at the prospect of a child. He was only sixteen or seventeen himself—could he really be a good dad?

Hearing him sigh, Yan Fengan, who hadn't yet fallen asleep, asked softly, "Why are you sighing out of nowhere?"

There was no way he could tell him about the nonsense running through his head—if Yan Fengan knew what he was thinking, he'd be mortified.

Luckily, the room was pitch dark, and neither could see the other's face. Even if he lied, there was no risk of being found out. Wen Xi said, "I was thinking about how to make money."

"So, did you come up with anything?"

Wen Xi had only made up an excuse to brush him off, but at the question, he actually felt a pang of disappointment: "What kind of ideas do you think I could possibly come up with?"

Yan Fengan knew what he'd seen in the city today had left a big impact on him—his friend's free-spending ways after making money had made him envious. He said, "Aren't you learning embroidery with Sister-in-Law and the others? I heard from Brother Jin that you're a natural and you catch on fast. Why not have him pick up some work from the embroidery shop for you all to do together? You'd get paid for however much you finish—that could be a way to make money."

"Brother Jin went to the embroidery shop in town a couple of days back, but the shopkeeper said he was too late—the work had already been given to someone else."

They should have gone sooner, but they'd been busy making clothes for the family and had put it off.

People weren't going to just wait around for them when it came to making money. If someone suitable came asking, the work naturally went to them.

Hearing this, Yan Fengan gave a wry smile. "We really are two peas in a pod when it comes to bad luck."

Wen Xi tilted his head. "What does that mean?"

Yan Fengan: "..."

"It doesn't mean anything." He reassured him, "No need to rush. Maybe one day the chance to make money will just come knocking on our door."

Wen Xi didn't believe that. He might not be clever, but he wasn't foolish either—he knew money didn't grow on trees.

Little did he expect that Yan Fengan's casual words would come true. Sure enough, a few days later, the chance to make money came knocking on their door.

One day, He Jin was teaching Wen Xi how to embroider sachets when Shen Liang showed up at the Yan house carrying two wooden crates on a pole. He said he'd picked up some work from the embroidery shop in town and wanted to ask if Wen Xi and the others would be interested.

Shen Liang's father had passed away early, leaving him as the sole breadwinner of the family. To support his old mother and little brother, he'd become a peddler when he was still in his teens.

To stock up on goods to resell in the villages, he'd gotten chummy with all the shopkeepers in town. Because of that, he was the first to know what these shops needed, take on outsourced orders, and subcontract them to others, earning a commission in between—which brought in a decent income.

Who wouldn't want to make money? But Li Wan still asked, "You've been in this line of work for quite a while. You must have regular partners in the village. Why come to us all of a sudden?"

Shen Liang took the hot water Wen Xi handed him, took a sip to warm his stomach, and said, "To be honest, I used to give this work to Auntie Liu next door and her daughter-in-law. But their craftsmanship was a bit rough—the fabric waste was too much and didn't meet the embroidery shop's standards. When I picked up this batch, the shop owner explicitly said they wouldn't use them anymore."

He Jin scoffed, "That daughter-in-law of Auntie Liu's—her family is from the same village as my sister-in-law. She couldn't even embroider a shoe upper properly as a girl. Seems marriage didn't improve her skills either."

It wasn't just a lack of skill—she was greedy too. Over the years, she'd taken on so much work from Shen Liang and quietly pocketed no telling how much fabric.

If not for the fact that their families lived close by, and he feared they might bully his mother and Shen Yun when he was away from the village, Shen Liang would have cut ties with them long ago.

This time, with the embroidery shop owner putting his foot down, he finally had a reason not to give them the work.

Shen Liang said, "Exactly. That's why I came to ask you all. I heard from Xiucai Yan that you occasionally take on work from the embroidery shop. Since you have the experience, I'm sure the craftsmanship won't be a concern. Would you be interested?"

After a moment's consideration, Li Wan said, "Since you think so highly of us, we'll take the work. What do you need us to embroider?"

Shen Liang pulled several stacks of cut fabric and a few paper patterns from his crate and said, "Forty plain handkerchiefs with hemmed edges, and ten sachets each in pomegranate and gourd shapes."

He Jin picked up one of the rough plain handkerchiefs, examined it, and asked, "How's the pay?"

"Two wen per handkerchief for hemming. The sachets require embroidered patterns—more complex work, so the rate is higher: fifteen wen each."

He Jin frequently took work from the embroidery shop and knew the going rates well. Shen Liang's offer was fair, so there was nothing to haggle over.

Having studied arithmetic with Yan Fengan for a few days, Wen Xi no longer needed to count on his fingers. Forty handkerchiefs at two wen each came to eighty wen, and twenty sachets at fifteen wen each totaled three hundred wen—all in all, a decent sum.

After handing over the materials, Shen Liang agreed to return in ten days to collect the finished pieces. As he was leaving, he said, "Since I had to find new partners this time, I didn't take on too much work from the shop. If the finished products pass inspection, we can work together long-term in the future."

He Jin gave his guarantee: "You can rest easy leaving the work in our hands. I won't say much else, but I promise our craftsmanship will be a hundred times better than Old Lady Liu's."

Shen Liang smiled, hoisted his crates, and headed home.

Li Wan politely saw him out, then closed the door and tapped He Jin on the forehead. "You and that mouth of yours—always running loose. If word of this gets back to Old Lady Liu and her lot, do you think they'll be pleased?"

He Jin curled his lip. "I'm just stating facts. What can they do about it? No wonder my sister-in-law often says Li Xinghua brings fabric scraps and colored thread to her mother every time she visits home. I always wondered where she got them—turns out she was deliberately pocketing good materials when taking on work."

Wen Xi was curious. "Brother Jin, what do you mean by that?"

"You're too innocent, and you're new to embroidery, so you don't know how deep these waters run. I won't explain now—once we finish this batch of work, you'll understand on your own."

Li Wan cautioned, "This is between them and Shen Liang. The Liu family has no grudge against us. Let's just treat it as a story and not spread a word of it."

He Jin shook his head. "Sister-in-law, you're good in every way, but too cautious. How would anyone overhear what's said in our own courtyard? It's just the three of us here—surely you don't think Little Xi and I would go telling others?"

Hearing his name, Wen Xi immediately raised three fingers and swore, "I won't tell anyone."

He Jin and Li Wan both burst out laughing at him. Li Wan sighed, "Well, you're right. If we can't speak freely in our own home, that would be too stifling. Consider me a nag, then."

The three of them talked as they went inside, and He Jin began assigning tasks one by one: "Wen Xi does a good job with hemming, so I'll leave these plain handkerchiefs to you. My sister-in-law and I will do the sachets. We get paid for however many we finish. Sound good?"

Wen Xi nodded excitedly and said, "Sounds good."

He was still learning how to make sachets and pouches, and his skills weren't good enough yet, so he couldn't risk messing up the fabric and colored threads.

He was already happy just to hem the handkerchiefs. If he could hem all forty of them, he'd earn eighty wen, which was a pretty good chunk of change for him.

Earlier, when they were making clothes, Li Wan had taught Wen Xi a few ways to hem, and now that came in handy.

Ten days was plenty for Wen Xi, since he only had to do the hemming. To be safe, he didn't rush, making sure every stitch went exactly where it should.

The materials and colored threads meant a lot to him. Even though someone else had paid for them, Wen Xi didn't want to waste any, so he focused completely while working.

Yan Fengan knew how much this job meant to him and never bothered him. When the two kids at home wanted to play, he'd shoo them off so Wen Xi wouldn't hear any annoying noise.

Seeing how seriously he took it, the two loud brothers, Yan Wangchun and Yan Fuqiu, made an effort to be quieter when they came home each day. When they did talk, they'd shake their heads and use hand gestures. He Jin and Li Wan caught sight of this and couldn't help bursting out laughing, missing a few stitches, and playfully scolded the brothers for it.

With half the time left before the deadline, Wen Xi had already finished hemming all the handkerchiefs. Thanks to his full focus and no interruptions, he hadn't made a single mistake.

After finishing the forty handkerchiefs, Wen Xi still had a few pieces of white cotton fabric left. He felt a bit confused and uneasy, so he went to ask He Jin and the others.

Only a greenhorn as honest as him would ask a question like that. He Jin explained, "Nobody can guarantee they'll never mess up with this kind of fine work. Cutting fabric wrong or ruining a hem happens all the time. The embroidery workshop knows this, so they always figure in possible waste when handing out materials. You worked carefully and didn't mess up once, so of course there's extra cotton leftover."

Now that he understood, Wen Xi asked, "Then... what should I do with the leftover fabric? Should I give it back?"

What a naive question. He Jin chuckled, "In all my years, I've never seen anyone give leftover fabric scraps back to the embroidery workshop."

Li Wan told him, "As long as you deliver the right amount on time, they won't say anything if you keep the extra materials."

Wen Xi hesitated, "Wouldn't that be a bit wrong?"

He Jin snorted, "What's wrong with it? Everyone in this trade does it. After finishing work for the workshop, keeping a bit of thread and fabric scraps is just an unspoken rule. If you honestly gave the leftovers back, they'd smile at you to your face but secretly think you're a fool."

He said it so matter-of-factly that it almost seemed like not keeping the cotton would be the wrong thing to do.

The second brother's wife spoke bluntly, while the third brother's wife was sensitive and careful. Afraid Wen Xi might overthink it, Li Wan spoke up for him, saying, "It's not as bad as you make it sound. If Wen Xi gave the materials back, the workshop people would definitely think he's honest and trustworthy. Maybe they'd even give him more work later."

He Jin let out a light scoff, then listened as Li Wan continued, "That said, these cotton cloths and colored threads are precious to families like ours, but the workshop doesn't care about them at all. A few scraps mean nothing to them. Even if you gave them back, it wouldn't do them much good."

"Exactly. Just pretend you messed up those pieces of fabric. The workshop only cares about getting the goods it ordered; it won't care about the rest. And if you ask me—and I don't mean to sound harsh—we got this job from Peddler Shen. If you gave him the leftover cotton, do you think he'd honestly give it back to the workshop?"

Merchants care most about profit. He'd probably resell those things and make a nice profit.

Thinking about Wen Xi's relationship with Shen Yun, He Jin didn't say the rest. But unless Wen Xi was a fool, he should be able to figure it out.

Wen Xi was simple-minded, and Li Qiaozhen did these things behind his back, so a lot of things that were understood without being said were only half-clear to him.

Luckily, everyone in the Yan family had patience and didn't think he was stupid. They were willing to break things down and explain them clearly.

He wasn't a rigid person either. Since both sisters-in-law had said so, he naturally wouldn't be dumb enough to give the leftover materials back.

Wen Xi folded the few pieces of fabric neatly and held them in his hand. Blushing, he gave an embarrassed smile and said, "Then I'll just keep them for myself."

Once the sachets were done, he could use the leftover cotton to embroider a handkerchief for Yan Fengan.

He was teachable, after all. He Jin hated dealing with people who were inflexible. Wen Xi was honest but not stubborn, and he wasn't inflexible. He Jin found it pretty pleasant to get along with him.

He was a man of clear likes and dislikes, and for those he respected, he didn't hold back his kindness.

"That's right. You saved these materials stitch by stitch, so there's no need to feel bad about keeping them." Wen Xi clearly had a talent for embroidery, and it seemed like he could make a living from it in the future. He Jin was practically his half-mentor, teaching him the craft while also offering advice: "In this trade, we rely on two things to make a living: skill and integrity."

"This kind of fine work can't be faked. If your hemming stitches are sloppy, or if my sister-in-law and I embroider the sachet patterns wrong, people will spot it at a glance, and they won't hire us again. If you want to make a living from this, you need to practice diligently and never cut corners."

Wen Xi nodded, his expression focused as he listened carefully.

"More often than not, integrity matters more than skill." Afraid Wen Xi might misunderstand, He Jin added, "Integrity and being a pushover are two different things. When I say integrity, I don't mean you should give those scraps back."

Wen Xi smiled softly, "I understand. Integrity means not skimping on materials or workmanship. If you promise someone forty handkerchiefs, you don't deliver only thirty-nine. If they give you satin for sachets, you don't secretly swap it for cotton."

Li Wan chimed in, "Exactly. Even if we're trying to make money, we can't lose our dignity and conscience."

Wen Xi promised solemnly, "I would never do something like that."

Someone who didn't even think to keep the extra threads and fabric scraps for himself would hardly have the nerve to do such a thing.

He Jin sneered, "Only short-sighted people like Old Lady Liu and her daughter-in-law would dig their own graves like that. The workshop already gives extra materials to account for waste, and they still pocket some without a shred of conscience. Their skills are poor, and they don't even deliver the full order. The workshop isn't a bunch of suckers—they won't let them take advantage every time."

The various embroidery workshops all kept each other informed. Those two were probably already "on the record," and it was likely that future jobs would explicitly state they wouldn't be hired.

Ruining their reputation for a few pieces of fabric and losing their livelihood—what a classic case of penny wise, pound foolish.

Old Lady Liu was always smiling and seemed like such a kind person, yet she'd do something like that behind closed doors.

Wen Xi firmly kept He Jin and Li Wan's warnings in his heart, reminding himself never to betray his conscience for money or stray down the wrong path.

With the hemming done, Wen Xi had nothing left to do. He didn't dare practice on the workshop's sachets, so he continued making pouches.

Since they were meant for holding coins and everyday essentials, Wen Xi embroidered them larger than ordinary pouches.

As a beginner, he kept the patterns and designs simple. When he finished, He Jin took a look, nodded approvingly, and said, "Well done. Next time I'll teach you to embroider mandarin ducks playing in water. Once you learn that, you can give one to Third Brother."

Wen Xi lowered his head shyly, "There's so much to do at home. I don't have time to embroider pouches for him every day. Giving him one is enough."

"Oh my, just one is enough? Then why are you embroidering a handkerchief after finishing the pouch? Don't tell me that's not for Third Brother."

Wen Xi was in front of his sisters-in-law every day. Yan Fengan, whenever he got tired of reading or writing, would come out to glance at him. He'd just arrived and only caught the tail end of the conversation. Curious, he asked, "What are you giving me?"

The handkerchief wasn't finished yet, and Wen Xi didn't want him to know. He quickly hid it in his thread basket while shaking his head with a blush, making a pleading face at He Jin and the others.

Seeing his embarrassment, Li Wan lowered her head with a smile and said, "How could something from the embroidery workshop be for you? You must have misheard, Third Brother."

Yan Fengan didn't press further. He picked up a finished sachet, examined it, and praised, "Sister-in-law and Brother Jin have such skill. These sachets are more exquisite than anything sold in the city."

Li Wan remained modest, "We're just making a living. How could we compare to professional embroiderers in the city?"

"Sister-in-law, don't be so humble. I may be an outsider, but I know how to appreciate beauty and quality."

"Is that so?" He Jin smirked and pointed at the pouch in the thread basket, "Then tell me, what do you think of this pouch?"

Yan Fengan knew perfectly well the pouch was Wen Xi's work. He smiled and said, "The material is ordinary, but the stitching and design are excellent. It must be the work of some master."

Seeing Wen Xi's ears turning red, he continued with a curve of his lips, "I wonder who's lucky enough to become the owner of this pouch."

Wen Xi knew he was saying it on purpose, but with both sisters-in-law present, he couldn't speak up. He only raised his eyes and shot Yan Fengan a shy, annoyed glare.

The man smiled slightly and, having teased him enough, didn't linger. "I'm going back to my room to read. You all keep working."

Wen Xi watched him leave, only slowly pulling his gaze away after a long moment.

He Jin shot Li Wan a meaningful glance; though neither spoke, their thoughts were in perfect accord.

They had assumed that Wen Xi, having married into the Yan family through a twist of fate, would become an unhappy couple with Yan Fengan, but now it seemed they had misjudged.

Ten days flew by. When the day came, Shen Liang arrived early in the morning to collect the goods.

He casually flipped through the handkerchiefs and sachets, nodding with satisfaction. "Not bad—better than what Aunt Liu and the others make. If the embroidery workshop has more work in the future, I'll bring it to you."

He took out copper coins strung together with hemp rope and handed them to Li Wan. "That's three hundred and eighty coins total. Split it among yourselves."

The three hundred-plus coins felt heavy in her hand. Li Wan untied the rope and split the money the way they'd agreed.

All forty handkerchiefs had been edge-stitched by Wen Xi alone, so his cut came to eighty coins.

Plus the ten coins the Wen family had paid back, he now had ninety coins to his name.

Ninety coins might not be much to some people, but to him, they meant the world.

Mutton buns in town went for twenty coins a basket—so this could buy four baskets. Not a bad thought.

Wen Xi carried the coins back to his room bundled in his clothes, then dumped them all clattering onto the desk, eager to share his joy with Yan Fengan.

"I earned money!"

He didn't sound or look all that excited, but his eyes were bright as stars.

Yan Fengan grabbed a handful of coins, delighted for him. "Making that much—Little Xi's really something."

Wen Xi felt a bit shy at the praise. "I only made eighty coins; Sister-in-law and Brother Jin made over a hundred."

"Eighty coins is already a lot. I'm embarrassed to say I haven't earned a single coin myself—I might have to live off you from now on."

He said it with a straight face, but Wen Xi knew he was kidding. As he put the coins into the drawer, he murmured, "How could my pocket change support you?"

Studying cost a fortune—eighty coins wouldn't even get Yan Fengan a decent brush.

"The better your skills get, the more you'll earn. Then it won't be eighty—you'll be making eight hundred, even eight thousand."

Wen Xi let his words carry him away. Eighty coins was already a lot; eight thousand would surely fill the entire room! The number was too big for him to wrap his head around, so his imagination ran a little wild.

But if he really made that many coins, he'd have to trade them in for silver just to store them.

He did the math in his head: eight thousand coins sounded like a fortune, but when you converted it to eight taels of silver, it didn't seem like that much.

Having just made money with his own hands, Wen Xi felt a little more confident than before. At Yan Fengan's words, he said, shy but dead serious, "I'll work hard."

"When I make money, I'll buy you books, brushes, and an inkstone."

He looked so darn cute. Yan Fengan reached over and ruffled his hair, grinning. "Alright then, I'll be waiting."

Jokes aside, Yan Fengan hadn't been slacking while Wen Xi was busy. There were more storybooks on the shelf than he'd expected, and he'd read through every single one.

After reading them all, a story started taking shape in his head.

Alongside the wildly popular court-case stories and the same old scholar-beauty romances, there were also less popular ones with a loyal following.

They covered everything—martial arts adventures, slice-of-life stories, and ghost tales.

One especially famous one was called *The Fox Lady's Gratitude*. Yan Fengan remembered that during his academy days, his classmates were completely obsessed with it, every one of them fantasizing about being Scholar Wang.

This Wang started out as a poor scholar. On his way to the capital for the imperial exam, he happened to save a fox caught in a trap. After failing the exam, he felt he'd let his parents down, so he jumped into a river to end it all.

He figured he was done for, but when he groggily opened his eyes, there was a beautiful woman leaning over him, breathing air into his mouth.

Wang's heart raced—shock and wonder all at once. When he asked, he learned she was the fox he'd saved, now in human form.

The fox lady, grateful he'd saved her life, told him not to give up so easily. She offered to study with him and help him pass the exam. Touched, Wang brought her home and they got married.

By day, the fox lady did the laundry and cooking, serving Wang's parents hand and foot. By night, she kept him company in his study, wrote poetry with him, and shared his bed.

When Wang's mother fell gravely ill, the fox lady daily drew a bowl of her own blood for her to drink as medicine. Such diligence and filial piety moved the entire family. Wang declared he would never betray her if he succeeded.

Three years later, Wang passed the exam and caught the eye of the prime minister's daughter. Torn with indecision, the fox lady quietly departed, allowing him to wed the noble lady. Wang grieved for a few days, then soon married her.

The prime minister's daughter was noble, beautiful, virtuous, yet reserved in temperament. Each intimate encounter left Wang unsatisfied, stirring his longing for the fox lady. She, silently watching him waste away, couldn't bear it and appeared to him again in human form.

The prime minister's daughter, learning of their past, generously forgave it and even took it upon herself to make the fox lady a concubine. From then on, the two women lived in harmony with Wang, loving him to old age, each bearing him a child. After Wang's death, the fox lady, grief-stricken, expended all her power to follow him to the afterlife, moving countless readers to tears.

His academy classmates all beat their chests in envy, sighing at Wang's good fortune.

Yan Fengan, however, found it mediocre. Wang was indeed lucky, but the fox lady suffered—a carefree spirit who might have cultivated immortality, yet she gave her whole life for a debt of gratitude, even sacrificing her magic and her life. In his view, it wasn't worth it.

Moreover, other aspects of the story made him frown.

Scholars heading to the capital for exams were countless, yet only a few passed. Did every failure have to resort to jumping in a river?

Wang's parents had only him as their child. If he'd died, how could his elderly parents bear such a blow?

Having promised the fox lady he'd never betray her, how could he so quickly marry a noble lady? Breaking his word—wouldn't heaven strike him down?

And the fox lady had bowed to his parents as his wife; by precedence, she should never have been made a concubine.

When Yan Fengan voiced these views to his classmates, they called him nitpicky—why focus on trivial details when the book had so much entertaining content? They said he was crazy.

During that time, the book was revered as gospel by his male peers, and none took kindly to Yan Fengan's criticism.

Though he didn't admit it was criticism.

Back then, as a reader, his subjective distaste made him dislike the book. Now, writing his own...

He still found it objectionable.

Yet a storybook that sold well and sparked fervor must have its merits.

Take *The Fox Lady's Gratitude*: before it, no such tale of a spirit transforming into human form to repay kindness with marriage had existed in the market. So upon publication, it won over countless scholars and inspired many imitators.

The author's style wasn't ornate—plain language with no reading barrier, accessible to anyone literate. And to grab attention, the book occasionally included sensual passages.

Yan Fengan mused that if he truly wanted to earn money writing storybooks, he'd need to take the best and discard the worst. The fox-lady-repaying-scholar trope was already stale. Why not flip it—write a story of a male fox spirit repaying kindness?

A fresh story began to sprout in his mind. Yan Fengan picked up his brush, dipped it in ink, and began writing, following the format of the books at hand.

"Chapter One: Yu Niang Reunites with the Masked Stranger"

"Maple leaves branch upon branch, river bridge veiled in dusk's slow sail; I think of you like the western river's flow, surging east without rest, day and night unceasing."

"Today we speak not of emperors or generals, nor of court-case legends, but of a small town in Jiangnan, where a moving, tearful tale of a human-fox bond unfolds.

In a town called Plum Blossom Town near Yangzhou Prefecture, there lived a weaving maiden named Yu Niang. Eighteen years old, strikingly beautiful, she'd lost her parents to illness three years prior, leaving her to support herself by weaving. Yu Niang had a betrothed from childhood—a man named Shen Mo, a wandering knight-errant who, with his martial skills, traveled far and wide righting wrongs and aiding the oppressed."

This Shen Mo not only possessed formidable martial arts skills but also a handsome appearance, with a touch of scholarly elegance in his eyes and a distinctly chivalrous air in his manner. Yu Niang had grown up alongside him as childhood sweethearts, and after turning eighteen, she picked an auspicious day to marry him. As a young married couple, they were deeply in love, and they spent a blissful month together like honey and oil. Then, on a dark, stormy night, Shen Mo suddenly drew his sword and said to Yu Niang in haste, "Yu Niang, I've been asked to look into something serious. Ten days at the earliest, a month at the latest, I will surely return. Just stay home and wait for me, okay?" When Yu Niang asked him what the matter was, he shook his head without a word, only saying, "I will return safely."

Shen Mo was set on leaving, and despite Yu Niang's deep reluctance, she could only send him off in tears.

Three months went by with no sign of him, and Yu Niang asked around for news every day, but there was still no word from him.

With both parents dead and her newlywed husband mysteriously vanished, Yu Niang spent her days weeping, her grief and worry making her sick. She also had to put up with people outside gossiping and pointing fingers. Her life was utterly miserable.

Meanwhile, in a desolate mountain a hundred li away, Shen Mo, who had been investigating a case of stolen national treasures on someone's behalf, was cornered by a gang of thugs. He was outnumbered, but he fought like a demon against more than a dozen killers, but he was badly hurt and dying.

Gathering the last of his inner energy, he stumbled into an old, abandoned temple. The temple had been neglected for years and was thick with cobwebs, with no gods or Buddhas inside, just a three-foot-tall stone fox statue.

Shen Mo collapsed beside the stone fox statue, put his bloody hands on it, and said weakly, "Do you remember what you promised me?"

Oddly enough, the moment Shen Mo said this, the dusty stone fox statue suddenly glowed with golden light. A white-robed young man holding a wine jug appeared out of nowhere, leaning lazily against the offering table, and said to the dying man, "That day, I accidentally ate some old Taoist's pill, lost my powers, and got caught in a hunter's trap. You're the one who saved me and let me go. Back then, I told you that our fox clan never forgets a favor, and if you ever needed anything, I'd grant you one wish."

This fox spirit was true to his word. Seeing that Shen Mo's injuries were beyond healing, he said, "Go on, what's your wish? Just say the word—murder, arson, revenge—I'll take care of it."

Shen Mo shook his head with effort, his breath coming in short gasps, "I have a new wife named Yu Niang. She lives at the third house on the west alley of Plum Blossom Town..."

The fox spirit frowned as he listened. "Yu Niang's parents are dead. I'm all she has in this world. I need you... I need you to..."

The fox spirit asked, "You want me to take care of her for you?"

Shen Mo was on his last breath. He grabbed the fox spirit's robe with all his strength and gasped, "Not just take care of her... I want you... to live as me... to love her for me... for the rest of her life."

"That's ridiculous!"

...

Ten more days went by. That night, the rain came down in sheets, and Yu Niang lay wide awake, unable to sleep. Suddenly, she heard a loud banging on the front door. Her heart jumped. She stood inside, not sure whether to open the door, when she heard a faint voice calling through the rain.

"Yu Niang..."

The voice was soft, but it hit her like a thunderclap. Hands shaking, Yu Niang unlatched the door. Outside stood a white-robed man holding an umbrella, his eyes lowered. When he saw Yu Niang, he smiled: "Yu Niang, I'm back!"

...

Maybe because he'd thought it all out beforehand, Yan Fengan's ideas flowed easily once he started writing, and he wrote this first chapter without breaking a sweat.

There were hardly any stories out there about a male fox repaying a favor, and he wondered if his offbeat angle would win over the bookshop owner.

But at this point, Yan Fengan couldn't care less.

Because he was having way too much fun writing, and even if it never sold, he was determined to finish the whole story.

For his first try at writing, he planned to keep it short—just a few tens of thousands of words to test the waters.

At the pace he was writing, he figured it would take about twenty days.

In winter, the days were short and the nights long, and writing at night meant burning candles. Yan Fengan didn't want to spend the extra money, so he wrote more during the day. These past few days, he barely left his room except to eat.

Sanlang had always studied hard, but he'd never been this obsessed. Chen Lanfang worried about her son's health and couldn't help nagging him at meals. Yan Fengan would mumble "okay, okay" and promise to take care of himself, but nothing actually changed.

Afraid of nagging Yan Fengan too much, she pulled Wen Xi aside instead and said, "You're Feng'an's husband—closer to him than I am, his own mother. When you get the chance, talk some sense into him for me. No matter how important studying is, his health comes first."

Wen Xi nodded, but his heart ached. Yan Fengan had barely said two words to him these past few days—how was he supposed to persuade him?

Shen Yun's brother had brought another batch of work, and Wen Xi felt restless as he tied the knots.

During the day, Yan Fengan wrote in his room while Wen Xi worked with his two sisters-in-law. Before, he'd always find time to come out and check on him. But these past few days, for some reason, he stayed holed up in his room all day. At night, he didn't hold Wen Xi to help him fall asleep anymore, and even when Wen Xi talked to him, he'd zone out.

Wen Xi felt hurt. This man's attitude toward him was all over the place, like a wind you couldn't predict.

He'd said he wanted to build a good life together—so why did everything suddenly change?

Wen Xi's heart hurt. He set down the knot, stood up despite the surprised looks from He Jin and Li Wan, and said, "Feng'an's working so hard. I'll go boil some water and make him tea."

Halfway there, he stopped dead in his tracks. If he didn't get to the bottom of this today, he wouldn't even have the heart to make tea.

Inside the room, Yan Fengan was scribbling away. Footsteps came from outside, getting closer until they stopped right in front of him.

No one else would just walk into their bedroom, so Yan Fengan called out without looking up, "Xiao Xi!"

At first, he didn't think anything of it. But when no answer came, he set down his pen and looked up.

By the desk, Wen Xi stood with red, tear-filled eyes, tears running down his cheeks, just staring at him without a word.

Startled, Yan Fengan put down his pen, got up quickly, walked over, took his hand, and asked, "Why are you crying like this? What's wrong?"

He looked genuinely worried, not like he was deliberately ignoring him—there had to be a reason.

Wen Xi lowered his head and covered his face, too embarrassed to say what was on his mind.

Yan Fengan wiped his tears and said softly, "We're husband and wife. If you can't tell me, who can you tell? Tell me what's bothering you, and I'll take care of it."

Wen Xi's eyes were red as he said slowly, "These past few days... did I do something wrong? Did I make you upset?"

Author's Note:

The classical poem referenced in this chapter:

"Gazing at Zi'an from Jiangling in Sorrow"

By Yu Xuanji, Tang dynasty

Maple leaves on branch after branch, the river bridge hidden in dusk, sails slow to come.

Thinking of you, my heart is like the western river's water—flowing east day and night, never stopping.

"Note: All the stories in this book are completely made up by me."

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