Xing Yue was truly fed up with Xing Zhao, that sixth brother of his.

He’d poured sand into his own boots, yet he was crying as if the sand had jumped in on its own, looking all wronged and bullied.

However, seeing how genuinely this kid seemed to believe he’d been wronged, Xing Yue let out a deep sigh.

Suppressing his anger, he softened his voice: “Is it rubbing your feet?”

“Mm.” Xing Zhao sniffled, tears streaming down his face as he looked utterly heartbroken. “I just let it stay in there for a little while, but it wouldn’t come out. It rubbed my foot raw—it hurts so much I can’t even walk comfortably.”

Xing Yue：“……”

“Are you going to play with it again?” he asked, struggling to keep his temper in check.

Xing Zhao continued to sob, but said nothing.

Xing Yue tried a different approach: “We won’t put it in the boot anymore, okay?”

Xing Zhao gave a little sob, his lips trembling, but this time he replied without a moment’s hesitation: “Okay!” 

Xing Yue: “……”

I give up!

Xing Yue silently wiped the tears from his face. “All right, stop crying.”

Then, hooking his arms under Xing Zhao’s armpits, he pulled him into his embrace. Leaning forward, he took hold of his ankles and brushed the sand and dust off his little feet. Resigned, he held out his hand: “Give me the boots.”

After taking the boots, he tapped them against the edge of the bed and began clearing the sand out of them.

The boots were made of sheepskin, lined with sheep’s wool—warm, yes, but the fine sand had lodged deep inside, making it difficult to remove it all.

“Big Brother,” Xing Zhao said, still sniffling as he lay in his arms, though his tone had taken on a slightly petulant edge. “The sand is kind of fun. I never played with it before when we were in the capital.”

Xing Yue kept digging out the sand with a serious expression: “…Do you think the broom handle is fun?”

Xing Zhao instantly fell silent.

“What are you two doing? Where’s Guoguo?” A child’s voice suddenly rang out from the neighboring courtyard.

Xing Yue and Xing Zhao looked up to see Jiu-ger, with his hair styled in pigtails, leaning against the yellow earthen wall, peering this way and that. After sizing them up, his eyes sparkled with curiosity. “Why are you crying?”

He was asking Xing Zhao.

Unfortunately, Xing Zhao didn’t understand the dialect of Xizhou.

However, seeing a young ger staring at him, he remembered he was crying and felt a bit embarrassed. He quickly patted his older brother’s leg: “Big brother, let go of my arm—I’ll get up.”

Xing Yue nodded at Jiu-ger, released Xing Zhao, and let him sit on the kang.

After a moment’s thought, he got up and went to the bedroom, fetching the pair of shoes Xing Zhao had originally been wearing.

When they set out from the capital, it was still summer, and both the original host and Xing Zhao had been wearing cloth shoes. After three months of arduous travel on the road to exile, the soles of the shoes had worn through, and the uppers had been pushed open by their big toes. Not only were they thin, but they were so filthy their original color was unrecognizable, and they were in tatters.

In modern times, they would probably have been tossed straight into the trash, but Qingheng had picked them up, put them in the carriage, and brought them back. It was a good thing he’d brought them back; otherwise, that brat Xing Zhao would be barefoot right now.

Xing Zhao was oblivious to all this. When his older brother put the shoes on him, he obediently slipped them on—one foot in a boot, the other in the tattered shoe—then hopped and beamed at Xing Yue, “Big Brother, they don’t rub my feet anymore.”

Xing Yue：“……”

Then Xing Zhao glanced at Jiu-ger and moved slightly closer to Xing Yue.

It turned out that Jiu-ger had been unable to resist his curiosity; he had climbed over the yellow earthen wall and scrambled inside.

Brushing the yellow dust off his hands from climbing the wall, he leaned in and pointed curiously at Xing Yue’s head. “Young Master, what’s wrong with your head?” Xing Yue had a wound on the back of his head. Medicinal powder had been applied to the wound, and a strip of cloth was tied around his head to keep it in place.

Naturally, he couldn’t understand what Jiu-ger was saying, so he just nodded.

Jiu-ger, however, wasn’t shy around strangers. He circled around him, sometimes leaning in to watch him scoop sand, sometimes poking at the sewing basket with his fingers, or lying on the bedside table to examine his head.

Xing Zhao pressed himself close to Xing Yue’s leg, wrapping his arms around Xing Yue’s arm. He hid half his body, leaving only one eye exposed, and quietly studied him.

“Master,” Jiu-ger suddenly spoke after observing him for a while, his tone full of surprise. “Is Guoguo’s poop stuck in your hair? It smells stinky.”

Lady Wang, returning from outside: “……”

Qingheng, emerging with a winnowing basket: “……”

Seeing Xing Yue look up at her ger, Lady Wang felt mortified. Her face flushed bright red as she roared, “You little rascal! Apologize to him right now! What nonsense are you spouting?!”

Then she yelled again, “Come back here right now! Go stay in the drying house—the birds have pecked all the grapes clean!” 

Xing Yue: “……”

Though he didn’t know what he’d said, judging by his mother’s tone and expression, he knew he hadn’t said anything nice.

Qingheng’s mouth twitched. He walked over, a winnowing basket tucked under one arm, the other free. He raised his hand and gave him a light tap on the head: “My husband is injured and can’t wash his hair. He’s got medicine on his head—it’s not Guoguo’s poop.”

“Oh.” Jiu-ger clung to his leg, peered at Xing Yue, and seeing that Xing Yue wasn’t angry, he tilted his head back, patted Guoguo’s bottom, and skipped away.

“How dare you climb over the wall!” Seeing him head toward the base of the wall, Lady Wang’s eyebrows shot up in fury, and she shouted, “Go through the gate! I just changed your clothes yesterday, and in less than half a day, you’ve already covered yourself in dust again. Why don’t you go sell yourself as a local specialty product? Even local specialty products are cleaner than you.”

Qingheng：“……”

Jiu-ger didn’t take it to heart; he grinned at his mother. “But Mother would have to be willing to let me go. I know you love me too much to let me go.” 

Lady Wang couldn’t stand his shameless expression and immediately burst out laughing, pointing at him. “Get back here this instant!”

Qingheng turned his head and saw Xing Yue picking sand out of Xing Zhao’s boots. The corner of his mouth twitched again. He knew this scene was coming.

“You’ll never get all the sand out by picking it out,” he said, stifling a laugh. “Wait a couple of days, then give them a good scrub with water—that’ll do the trick.”

“Kids have warm feet and love to move around,” he said. “In this weather, boots are only comfortable right after getting up in the morning. As noon approaches, his feet will be stuffy and he’ll want to take them off.”

The more Xing Yue tried to clear the sand, the more frustrated he became. He was at a loss for words. Upon hearing this, he gave up on his battle with the boot, pinched Xing Zhao’s cheek and warned him sternly, “You’re not allowed to pour sand in there again. Got it?”

Xing Zhao gave him an innocent smile and said sweetly, “I’ll remember, Big Brother! Big Brother, you’re so kind.” 

In an instant, Xing Yue’s anger melted away.

Then he flashed Qingheng another smile, imitating Jiu-ger, and wrapped his arms around him, nuzzling against him as she said in a babyish voice, “Brother Heng, you’re so sweet. Thank you~ I really like you~”

Xing Yue: “……” 

Qingheng: “……”

He really does have a mouth like honey.

But no adult can resist a little brat with a mouth like honey.

In the end, Xing Yue gave him a speechless pat on the head and softened his voice: “Go play. Don’t act like a bear—Heng’er is working.”

Even Qingheng was charmed, and he burst out laughing, patting the boy on the head. “Go to the drying house and grab some raisins to eat.”

After sending the little ones away, Xing Yue washed his hands and began working on the thread-bound book.

This morning, while washing his face, he caught a glimpse of his reflection in the water and realized the original host bore a striking resemblance to him. As he worked, he noticed the original host’s hands were similar to his own—both had prominent knuckles and long fingers.

Hands like that were not only attractive but also strong and capable. Xing Yue was quite pleased.

He was always efficient at his tasks. Threading the needle and aligning the pages, he finished a thread-bound book in no time—it took him no more than five or six minutes.

Apart from the fact that it had to be read from right to left and the text was arranged vertically, it wasn’t much different from modern books.

Xing Yue was very pleased. He tucked the Thousand Character Classic into his robe, unrolled the legal code excerpts, and began studying the laws of this era.

He then realized that, just as Qingheng had said, it was indeed an abridged version. The scroll contained only entries related to household registration, the collection of taxes and conscription, marriage registrations, land disputes, and the responsibilities of guarantors—matters closely tied to the lives of ordinary people and the duties of Lizheng. Everything else was omitted.

Since there wasn’t much text, he didn’t bother with the rest and began reading it carefully.

Meanwhile, Qingheng had set his winnowing basket against the yellow earthen wall. As he picked out small grains of sand from the rice, he chatted with Lady Wang, who had also come out to work with her own winnowing basket.