Miss and farmhand

Huang Chu shuddered, because the sight of the man's back was truly shocking.

The doctor cut open his skin to drain the toxins. In the countryside, people don't care about scars; saving his life is the priority. They sprinkled medicinal powder on the festering flesh, letting the toxins and blood drain out on their own. It didn't look like an old wound; it looked like he'd just endured torture.

Huang Chu held the medicine bottle, her voice trembling even more than she had expected.

"Are you alright?"

The man didn't speak.

"I have some pills here to strengthen your Qi. Put one in your mouth; it'll be good for your health."

She placed the bottle on the man's bedside table, but he neither reached out to take it nor pushed it away.

After standing for a while, Huang Chu said again, "I've already spoken to my father. You should focus on recovering from your injuries. I'll come back to visit you when you're healed. Don't be afraid of your master; he's been arrested by the authorities and won't bother you."

I spoke quickly and softly, one sentence at a time, afraid he would fall asleep before I finished listening.

The man closed his eyes. Huang Chu knew he had heard her, which meant he was probably relieved, and asked her to leave.

She shuffled out, unable to resist asking again, "...Are you in pain?"

Of course, there was no response. Huang Chu left.

I don't know if the man took those medicines. Later, I didn't hear anyone say that he recovered particularly quickly, nor did I hear that he had any unusual medication.

Actually, men are useless; he even put away the medicine bottles.

Otherwise, how could she explain where it came from? It couldn't be another thief stealing medicine. Nor could it be a gift from a servant; they wouldn't have such good and complete medicine. Saying it was from the young lady would only attract attention and cause her trouble. She didn't think of this, unaware that such an involvement would damage her reputation.

He recuperated for half a month, and before the scabs on his back had even fallen off, he got out of bed and sat on his frame as usual, painting hibiscus flowers.

The news of Master Zhao's incident still got out.

When Shen Yurui came to sit down, she casually asked, "Did you hear them talking about causing trouble while drinking?"

Shen Xuying shook her head.

"His disciple is still recuperating at your house? That's too kind of you. Just give him some money to send him away. It's their business anyway."

Huang Chu said, "We're not master and disciple anymore. There was never a written agreement to begin with, and after the fight, there's no way we can acknowledge it."

Shen Yurui looked at her with surprise, "Yi Niang has reached the age of understanding things, and she still knows about written agreements."

Huang Chu suspected that she had seen through something, so he lowered his head and remained silent.

But Shen Yurui seemed to remember something and changed her tone to say to Shen Xuying, "This time we are so grateful for the young master Zhu. Otherwise, what could you women in the courtyard do? You would have made a scene and we wouldn't have been able to stop you."

Shen Xuying nodded: "Yes, Zhirong said that the young master of the Zhu family saw it first, and then sent someone to the academy to find him. We really can't do without him; even the servants are afraid of that old master."

"It's such a pity about the young Master Zhu. If he had passed the imperial examinations before, he would have been a Jinshi (successful candidate in the highest imperial examinations) at such a young age. There are very few unmarried candidates of his age at the Juren (successful candidate in the provincial imperial examinations), right? How old is he this year?"

"I forgot, he's a few years older than my mother."

"He's the same, and so is Yi Niang. Neither of them is getting married. They don't know how worried we elders are."

Shen Xuying realized what was happening, glanced at Huang Chu who was still looking down, and tugged at Shen Yurui's sleeve, telling her to stop talking.

Then, changing the subject again, "How's Yong-ge's school? He's all grown up now."

"That's all there is to it. Take his father, for example. He still can't pass the prefectural examination. He spends all his time in the academy, and we don't even know what he's been studying."

"Don't rush, Yong is still young. Once he has a good foundation, everything will go smoothly."

Even a son with scabies is still a good son. Shen Yurui complained, but she had a son, while Shen Xuying didn't, which was still uplifting.

"That makes sense. With his father and uncle watching over him at the academy, and with that young master Zhu, even if he doesn't learn anything good, he won't go astray."

Because of Master Zhao's affair, Zhu Xiaoxu is now extremely popular in the Huang residence; everyone is happy to see him. They knew he was the master's favorite student before, but ultimately felt he was irrelevant to their family. So many students came and went at the academy; they weren't close. But Zhu Xiaoxu, who had gone through thick and thin with them, was different. The servants almost treated him like half a master, saying the master had adopted him as a godson, making him half a member of the Huang family. Otherwise, there would be no reason for him to be allowed so much coming and going in the inner quarters.

Men also became the subject of conversation.

He was brought by Master Zhao. Everyone had seen Master Zhao beat him. It was understandable that he was recuperating in the house after Master Zhao was arrested. But since he recovered, Master Zhao didn't come back, and he didn't leave either. It makes it seem like this person is very capable, managing to stay after causing such a scene.

Sometimes Huang Xingtong would be seen standing by his shelf, talking to him. The man was very proper, answering whatever was asked. But for a wandering laborer who had lost his master, it was already quite remarkable that he didn't rush to curry favor with his master and simply maintained a proper distance.

The servants kept their distance from him, not daring to talk to him casually, but they didn't avoid him either, and would greet him as if he were part of the garden, which made things much more natural.

At lunchtime, he also went to the kitchen to eat. The servants, who were gathered together, did not avoid him, but made room for him and continued their conversation.

"...So it's true?"

"There's no time to take a day off, you have to pick a date."

"It's time to choose carefully. The young lady is already this age; we can't afford to wait any longer."

"Don't even talk about whether the young lady can afford to wait. Think about that young master Zhu. He's sure to pass the next imperial examination. Once he goes to the capital and gets a degree, his options will be completely different. The daughters of nobles and high-ranking officials in the capital will be much better than... Right? I won't say it out loud, but it's the truth. Young master Zhu isn't stupid. It's just that he's sentimental that he's willing."

"I don't like hearing that. Our eldest daughter may not be comparable to princesses or noble ladies, but I don't think she can't compare to any other young lady in the capital. Has our eldest daughter ever mistreated you?"

"Alright, alright, I misspoke. That's not what I meant. How could I dare to speak ill of the young lady? I just... right, I guess that's what Young Master Zhu thinks."

"Do you think Young Master Zhu is like you? It's not like he's never been to the capital before or hasn't seen the world. Where have you been? You don't even know which way the government office faces."

"Oh, sister, please spare me!"

The man stood up, placed the bowl and chopsticks in the large wooden basin beside the stove, and left without a word.

He went back to his room and found the medicine bottles untouched under the mattress by the bed. He still lived alone in the room; no one else moved in. The Huang family was generous to their servants, and the servants didn't hold grudges against each other.

He actually knew all along that no one would come to rummage through it; there was plenty of room in the house to hide something. But he still placed it on the headboard, and at night he could feel the hard porcelain shards piercing through the cotton and fabric, digging into him.

He touched the hard edge of the porcelain medicine bottle; it was smooth, like old wood, and felt moist to the touch. The bowl he used at noon today was still earthenware, and the chopsticks were made of bamboo. There were unglazed areas on the bottom of the bowl, which rubbed against his fingertips. The chopsticks also had some hard fibers sticking out; he could peel them off and rub them against the bottom of the bowl without stopping him from using them.

He's like those chopsticks and bowl; he can never become a porcelain vase.

Keeping these would be a joke.