Chapter 310: Chapter 165: Tacit Understanding (Part 2)

Yet that placid voice filled Li Changyu with a sense of heartbreak. He dared not respond, and for a moment, they both fell silent.

Zhang Huai had forced out the words, and now he only felt an emptiness inside. He clutched his chest, where the gloves Juhua had made for him were tucked away. He had been moving things earlier and, afraid of ruining them, had taken them off and put them inside his coat for safekeeping.

It wasn’t that he was spineless or afraid to fight for her; he was reminded of Yu Qin.

If Juhua didn’t like him, if she was unwilling to marry him, then he could never be like Yu Qin had been, clinging desperately and refusing to let go. But aside from that, no one could stand in his way.

’Besides, I’m a man. Am I supposed to stop eating and sleeping, or even go jump in a lake over this? If I did that, Juhua would only look down on me even more.’

********

After seeing off Zhang Huai and Changyu, Qingmu first stopped by the Fuxi Grocery Store to chat and laugh with Laixi for a bit. Then, he shouldered two pig heads and several pounds of meat and set off to make a delivery to Liujiatang.

Liujiatang was just east of Xiatang Market, not far at all. Qingmu picked up his pace, hurrying toward the cluster of trees and houses that marked the village.

The road was muddy where the snow had melted, so he weaved from side to side, carefully stepping on the clean, untouched patches of snow.

Suddenly, out of the corner of his eye, he saw a boy in a blue padded jacket approaching. The boy had a basket hooked over his arm and was walking with his head down, also in a great hurry. 𝚏𝐫𝚎𝗲𝕨𝐞𝐛𝕟𝚘𝐯𝚎𝗹.𝕔𝐨𝗺

Qingmu saw a ditch right in front of them. The boy was barreling forward with his head down, about to crash right into him. Qingmu quickly sidestepped, intending to cross over the ditch from the edge of the road to avoid him.

Who would have thought? It was a good idea, but the boy, though he never looked up, must have also glimpsed someone approaching from the corner of his eye. So, without raising his head, he also dodged to the side—to the exact same side as Qingmu. The two of them collided head-on.

Qingmu was tall and sturdy, but the impact still sent him staggering, and he nearly stepped right into the ditch. He flailed his left arm a couple of times but couldn’t regain his balance, landing squarely on his rear in the snow beside the ditch. Luckily, not many people walked along that edge, so the snow was still clean. Otherwise, he would have landed in a puddle of slush.

The boy on the other side wasn’t nearly as lucky. The collision sent him sliding right into the ditch. The basket in his hand was knocked over, and it turned out to be full of eggs. More than half of them tumbled out, spilling a wide patch of yolks and whites.

The boy cried out, "Ow!" Then, he saw the ditch filled with yolks and whites, and his eyes immediately reddened. "You... you... My eggs—"

Qingmu scrambled up from the snow. ’What rotten luck,’ he thought. ’I clearly moved aside for him, but we crashed anyway.’

He set the burlap sack he was carrying on the side of the road and went to help the boy up, asking, "Are you alright?"

The boy looked to be about twelve or thirteen years old, with surprisingly delicate features. He couldn’t hold back his tears. "My eggs..." he cried. "Ow! My leg..."

Qingmu was startled and asked hurriedly, "What’s wrong with your leg?"

The boy sobbed, "I twisted my ankle. I can’t get up... And my eggs..."

Qingmu felt a headache coming on. Listening to the boy whine about his leg, then his foot, all while still mourning his eggs, made his own temper rise. ’Why don’t you watch where you’re going? See? This is what happens!’

’The more you rush, the more time you waste!’

Annoyed, he bent down to help the boy up. "Try and see if you can walk. Get up first, and stop crying. It’ll be worse if you catch a chill sitting in the snow."

With Qingmu’s support, the boy struggled to his feet. He tried to take a step, but one of his ankles was twisted and couldn’t bear any weight.

He clung tightly to Qingmu’s arm, balancing on one leg in the snow with his other foot held aloft. "My foot is hurt, I can’t walk," he said to Qingmu. "And my eggs are all smashed. So tell me, what are we going to do about this? Can’t you watch where you’re going?"

With that, he started crying again.

Qingmu was so exasperated he almost laughed. "Who wasn’t watching where they were going? You were the one walking with your head down without making a peep! I moved way over to this side to avoid you, and you followed me over here. Who’s to blame for that?"

The boy was speechless. He glanced at the overturned basket in the ditch, where hardly any eggs were left intact, and started wailing again. "My family saved up those eggs for over ten days..."

Seeing it was getting late, Qingmu grew anxious and cut him off. "Can you stop crying? You’re a boy, crying at the drop of a hat. How does that look? Which village are you from? I’ll take you home first."

The moment the boy heard "go home," he grew agitated. "But I haven’t made a single coin..."

At the end of his rope, Qingmu raised his voice. "That’s not my fault! Are you coming or not? If not, I’m leaving."

Hearing that Qingmu was about to leave, the boy frantically tightened his grip on his sleeve. "No, you can’t! You have to take me home. My foot is hurt, I can’t walk!"

He thought to himself, ’I won’t argue with you now. Once we get to my house, with my parents and sister there, we’ll see if you try to get out of paying for the eggs.’

Suppressing his anger, Qingmu asked again, "What village are you from?"

The boy’s eyes darted around for a moment. "Liujiatang," he said. "It’s just ahead."

Qingmu breathed a sigh of relief. ’Good, that’s the same village as my grandma,’ he thought. ’At least I won’t have to go far out of my way. I can have Grandma step in to negotiate when the time comes.’

He told the boy to let go of his arm so he could go down into the ditch to retrieve the basket and eggs—at least a few of them were still whole.

But the boy grew nervous and refused to let go. "What are you doing? Are you going to leave me here all alone in the snow, in the middle of nowhere? If you run off, it won’t do any good for me to scream my lungs out!"

Qingmu forcefully shook his arm, flinging the boy off. His face was stern. "If I really wanted to leave, do you think you could stop me?"

Without another word to him, Qingmu went down into the ditch, collected the basket and the remaining whole eggs, then grabbed a handful of snow to wipe his hands clean. Finally, he picked up his own burlap sack and walked back to the boy.

He was about to bend over to carry the boy on his back when a glance made him freeze—the kid was covered in egg yolk. How was he supposed to carry him? ’That would get my own clothes filthy,’ he thought. ’And Juhua just made these for me.’

The boy’s eyes followed Qingmu’s every move. Seeing that Qingmu hadn’t abandoned him and run off, he breathed a sigh of relief. He was just about to speak when he noticed Qingmu staring at him in a daze. He followed Qingmu’s gaze down to his own body and saw that the entire left side of his clothes was covered in egg white and yolk. He, too, was dumbfounded.