The passenger cart was crammed with people and miscellaneous goods. The space was already tight, and with Song Ning and Wei Hu sitting together, their arms inevitably brushed against each other.

Wei Hu shifted uncomfortably to the side, but the cart was so cramped—where could he possibly move?

Song Ning, however, was quite pleased. He enjoyed being close to Wei Hu. Fidgeting with his fingers, a faint blush crept across his cheeks.

Wei Hu, however, felt quite uncomfortable. Now that the marriage was set in stone, he knew gers weren’t as tough as men. This particular ger had been pampered since childhood, and Wei Hu couldn’t bear to see him suffer.

Now that they were on the oxcart, the ger was practically pressed against him. Wei Hu fidgeted restlessly, wanting to get off. Why was this oxcart moving so slowly? He could walk faster than this.

Wei Hu couldn’t help but urge, “Uncle, why is your oxcart going so slowly?”

“Young man, don’t you know to spare the animals? Even if this ox cart is slow, it’s still faster than walking!”

Song Ning tugged Wei Hu’s sleeve. “Brother Wei Hu, this oxcart is moving quite fast, you know.”

But Wei Hu felt it was slow. Here he was, a young man, riding in an oxcart, with a young ger pressed close beside him. And what’s more, winter was approaching—why was the sun so blazing today?

Song Ning leaned close to Wei Hu and whispered, “Brother Wei Hu, do we still need to go back to the Song family?”

Though Song Ning didn’t want to return to the Song household, he still had some old books he wished to retrieve. He couldn’t bear to part with those things—some even bore his father’s handwriting. Bringing them back would at least serve as a memento.

“Yeah, let’s go take a look.”

Wei Hu wanted to see what this young ger’s home had been like before, and to confront that bullying stepmother and stepsister. He intended to help the ger get some revenge.

Though it was just a formality—going in to grab his things and leaving—Song Ning agreed. It was a chance to see if he could retrieve his books.

His old books should still be there. Song Baozhu couldn’t read, and Song Youcheng wasn’t one for books either. They didn’t care for those things, but they were Song Ning’s treasures. When he left, Wu Cai’e had deliberately refused to let him take them, just to spite him.

This time, with Wei Hu tagging along, perhaps he could retrieve them.

Song Ning felt a surge of joy. Getting them back would be ideal.

Lost in thought, Song Ning suddenly toppled forward as the oxcart jolted. “Ouch!” he cried, landing in Wei Hu’s arms. Wei Hu froze for a moment before hastily pushing him away.

Before his brain could process it, his hands had already shoved him away. When the ger crashed into his arms, an inexplicable fragrance wafted into his nostrils, making his head spin.

He hadn’t controlled his strength, pushing Song Ning too hard. The boy’s head slammed into the bamboo basket beside him, prompting another pained “Ouch!”

Now Wei Hu was completely flustered. He wanted to help Song Ning up, but his hands fumbled around for a long moment, too afraid to actually touch him. “Are you okay? I… I didn’t mean to!”

Song Ning hissed in pain, reaching out to steady Wei Hu’s arm. “Wei Hu, it doesn’t hurt.”

Wei Hu froze, stiff and unmoving. Song Ning felt a twinge of pain, but thankfully, the bamboo basket beside him had cushioned the blow. Had it been a wooden plank, the impact would have echoed with a loud thud.

Though he disliked pain, it was merely a bamboo basket. He turned his face toward Wei Hu with a pitiful expression. “Brother Wei Hu, please check for me. Is it red from the bump?”

The ger clutched his arm, his forehead flushed as he looked up at himself pitifully. Perhaps the pain was too much; tears welled in his almond-shaped eyes.

That inexplicable fragrance wafted toward his nose again. Wei Hu swallowed hard and looked away. “It’s red. I’m sorry.”

The ger cracked a smile, his lips parting. “It’s fine, it doesn’t hurt. I’ve been like this since I was little. Bumps and bruises look bad, but they’re really nothing.”

Now the ger was half-buried in his embrace, his slender, jade-like fingers still clutching his arm. That scent just wouldn’t dissipate.

“Sit properly.”

“Okay.”

Only then did Song Ning sit properly.

The moment Song Ning loosened his grip, Wei Hu leaped off as if his tail were on fire. “It’s a bit cramped. You sit tight.”

“Brother Wei Hu, we’re still a ways from town. Why are you getting off?”

Song Ning felt a pang of annoyance. They’d finally managed to get close, and now this guy was getting off again!

“I’m just stretching my legs.”

Wei Hu walked behind the oxcart with his hands behind his back. With him gone, Song Ning had plenty of room. He pressed his hand to his forehead and pouted. Why did Brother Wei Hu have to be like this?

Wei Hu glanced toward the roadside, a spot even Song Ning dared not look at. He just shifted his weight slightly, his fingers unconsciously grinding together behind his back.

Soon they reached the town. Wei Hu didn’t know where Song Ning lived, so he followed him along until they arrived at a large gate.

“Brother Wei Hu, this is my home.”

The courtyard gate stood wide open. Song Ning led Wei Hu inside. When they arrived, Song Baozhu and her husband were already there, sitting in the front hall drinking tea.

Song Baozhu’s voice boomed so loudly that Song Ning heard every word the moment she entered: “Mother, how could you find such a family for Song Ning? You should have married her off to that consumptive neighbor of ours back then!”

Wu Cai’e retorted, “He’s just a poor hunter who brings misfortune to his wives. How could he ever surpass you? Besides, what about the ten taels of silver dowry? Didn’t I put that toward your trousseau?”

Zhao Qingshu was also drinking tea in the main hall. He looked up and saw the two approaching. Clearing his throat loudly, he called out, “Ning-ger has returned!”

Wu Cai’e quickly stopped talking. Her daughter was visiting her in-laws for the third day after the wedding today. As soon as she arrived, she started telling her how wonderful the match they found for Song Ning was—that poor hunter was tall and handsome. She couldn’t believe she’d let that little slut Song Ning get off so cheaply.

Wu Cai’e had no intention of welcoming Song Ning back. She feared that the poor family might cling to hers for handouts. She had no use for such impoverished relatives; she’d simply chase them away if they came.

Everyone knew the truth now, so there was no need to put on a show of maternal affection. What good could these country bumpkins possibly bring?

Wu Cai’e looked up and saw they’d brought quite a lot: a hen, a basket of eggs, a jar of wine, and half a sack of something unidentified.

Despite the quantity, Wu Cai’e frowned. Her daughter had mentioned getting several pieces of cloth—why hadn’t she brought them?

Seeing that this poor hunter had brought quite a lot, Wu Cai’e thought that if she sent them away, the gifts would be gone. She gave a lukewarm greeting, “Ning-ger, you’re back.”

“Second Mother.”

Song Ning called out, and that “Second Mother” made Wu Cai’e’s heart skip a beat. Second Mother, Second Mother—as if she wanted everyone to know she was the second wife!

Zhao Qingshu, however, was quite warm and welcoming. He poured tea for both of them. “Ning-ger, have some water. You must be tired from the journey.”

Song Ning ignored him. He glanced at the gifts brought by Zhao Qingshu and his wife. Zhao Qingshu had brought a basket of dried fruits and a basket of peanuts—nothing particularly valuable.

Wu Cai’e had always looked down on country folk. Seeing Wei Hu wearing a half-worn short coat, she thought, “This poor hunter may be well-built, but he’s still just a mud-covered peasant.”

She pointed at the burlap sack on the floor with her foot. “What’s this? Bringing all this stuff?”

“Sweet potatoes,” Song Ning replied. “We grew them ourselves.”

“Not worth a penny. Why bring them? No one at home likes them anyway.” Wu Cai’e put on airs. “Your father’s gone. Times are tough now. Your brother still needs to study. Life’s getting harder and harder.”

Song Ning knew exactly what Wu Cai’e was implying—she feared he’d come asking for money later. He hummed in acknowledgment. “I know.”

Just as Song Ning was about to mention his studies, before he could speak, Song Youcheng burst into the room, “Mother, my eldest sister is back!”

Song Youcheng was thirteen this year, only two years younger than Song Ning. As the sole male heir, he was especially doted on by Song Ning’s father and Wu Cai’e. His face was so chubby that his cheeks were pressed together. This was the hardship Wu Cai’e had mentioned, yet not a trace of it showed on Song Youcheng.

Song Youcheng loved to eat. Spotting the gifts on the table, he immediately dove in. After scanning everything, he found only a bag of edible fruits. He grabbed it and tore it open, revealing nothing but cheap treats like candied lotus root and honey-glazed horse hoof fruit—even the pastries were too expensive to buy.

The Song family ran a modest rice shop, and Song Youcheng had always eaten well. Such fruits were a luxury many rural households couldn’t afford. He was accustomed to delicacies like five-nut pastries and yuanbao-shaped cookies—how could he possibly care for these?

Song Youcheng pushed them aside with disdain. “Ning-ger, you brought these unwanted things for your return visit? I won’t eat them! Look at Big Sister—she even brought a chicken! Mother, I want braised chicken for lunch!”

Song Youcheng’s outburst left Zhao Qingshu red-faced. His mother had helped prepare these gifts for the visit. Their family was poor, supporting only him as a scholar, living frugally. How could Mother Zhao afford to buy anything fancy?

Wu Cai’e, seeing Zhao Qingshu’s sour expression, quickly smoothed things over. “Youcheng, what are you saying? Those fruits were brought by your sister’s husband. They’re all good stuff. I think you’ve just eaten too much.”

Song Youcheng’s expression softened upon hearing Zhao Qingshu’s name. “Brother-in-law, so you brought them! I do love fruit.”

Wu Cai’e smiled warmly. “Qingshu, Youcheng’s studies have improved greatly lately. When you have time, please tutor him. He ought to pass the preliminary exams at least.”

“Mother-in-law, I understand.”

Song Ning couldn’t be bothered listening to their chatter. Wu Cai’e was basking in the glory of having a Xiucai son-in-law now—her daughter had married a Xiucai, making her a Xiucai’s mother-in-law.

“Second Mother, I have some old books in my room I’d like to take home.”

With Zhao Qingshu, the scholar-official son-in-law, present, Wu Cai’e felt compelled to maintain some decorum. With Wei Hu also there, Song Ning finally mentioned his old books.

The moment Wu Cai’e heard Song Ning wanted to take something from her house, her expression hardened. Even if it were just a piece of dirt from the Song family, she wouldn’t let Song Ning take it.

“I promised those books to Qingshu long ago. What use would a ger have for them? You can’t pass the imperial examinations anyway. Now that you’re married, you can’t be as idle as before. You should properly assist your in-laws with their work.”

Wei Hu, who had been standing behind Song Ning, spoke up. “Mother-in-law, there’s little to do in the countryside during the off-season. Let Ning-ger take them back to pass the time.”

Zhao Qingshu also chimed in, “Mother, I’m a scholar now. I don’t need these books anymore. Let Ning-ger take them.”

With Zhao Qingshu speaking up, Wu Cai’e had little to say. Song Ning rose and headed to his room. The Song residence was a single-courtyard house, and Song Ning had his own room. After his father passed away, he’d been sent to live in a room with the family’s maidservant.