HNYWEF -Chapter 42 Disgust

Zhenguan Year One, Seventh Month, Fifth Day.

The sun was vicious.

The alley was empty. Cicadas screamed like they were tearing their throats apart. The iron shop of the Zhou family stood with its door open, and from inside came the sound of hammering—steady, unhurried, one strike after another.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

Li Shimin stood at the doorway, sweat sliding down his neck.

He had come alone.

He stood there, looking at the figure working the forge, and stayed for three breaths.

Then he stepped forward and crossed the threshold.

Zhou Sheng did not turn around.

The hammer kept falling.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

Li Shimin walked to the long workbench and stopped.

He looked at Zhou Sheng’s profile. There was no expression on that face. Sweat ran down from his temple, dripping onto his shoulder, darkening a small patch of fabric.

He spoke.

“I have an idea.”

The hammer did not stop.

Li Shimin waited a breath, then continued.

“I was thinking of arranging a marriage between Zhou Yi and Li Lizhi.”

The hammer stopped.

Zhou Sheng’s hand froze mid-air, the hammer lifted but not falling.

He turned his head and looked at Li Shimin.

There was mist in those eyes. Beneath it, something was moving.

He spoke.

The voice squeezed out of his hoarse throat, carrying a strange tone—

“Hmm—?”

Not a question.

Not surprise.

It was more like—he had heard something utterly unreasonable, and the sound was forced out from deep in his throat as disbelief.

Drawn out, rising at the end.

Li Shimin froze slightly.

He looked at Zhou Sheng. That face still held no expression.

But those eyes—those eyes clearly asked:

Do you even know what you’re saying?

Li Shimin opened his mouth.

“I was thinking the child Zhou Yi is twelve this year, and Li Lizhi is seven. The age gap is a bit much, but we could first arrange an engagement—”

Zhou Sheng didn’t let him finish.

“Not possible.”

Three words.

Hoarse. Clean. Absolute.

He set the hammer down.

And just stood there, looking at Li Shimin.

The words stuck in Li Shimin’s throat.

He stood there, sweat running down his neck.

“I know I owe you,” he said, his voice lower than before. “But what you just said… isn’t that a bit… inappropriate?”

Zhou Sheng said nothing.

But his gaze changed.

His eyes narrowed.

Not the earlier “are you talking nonsense?” kind of doubt.

Something else.

Li Shimin frowned.

He had seen many kinds of eyes.

Those who feared him, respected him, flattered him, hated him—he had seen them all.

But this—

He couldn’t describe it.

It just made him feel uneasy all over.

That gaze landed on his face, slowly scanning him up and down, as if looking at something—some kind of object.

Suddenly, he remembered his childhood. Once, he had done something particularly foolish, and his mother had looked at him exactly like that.

Without a word.

Just staring.

It had made him want to find a crack in the ground and crawl into it.

Now Zhou Sheng was looking at him the same way.

Li Shimin stood there, motionless.

He wanted to say something. To explain he was sincere. That Li Lizhi was a sensible child. That this would be good for Zhou Yi—

But he said nothing.

Because he understood the meaning of that gaze:

You don’t even understand this much, and you came to talk to me?

He stood for three breaths.

Then he shook his head and turned to leave.

At the doorway, he stopped.

He did not look back.

He stood for one breath.

Then he pushed the door open and stepped outside.

The sunlight was blinding. He stood there, squinting until his eyes adjusted.

The alley was still empty. The cicadas were still screaming, loud enough to split the air.

He walked forward.

After a few steps, he suddenly stopped.

He turned back and looked at the iron shop.

The door was still open.

The hammering had resumed.

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

“Clang.”

He stood there for a moment.

Then turned away again and kept walking.

The alley was long.

The sun was harsh.

He walked slowly.

Only one thought kept turning in his mind:

That look just now… what did it mean?

At the end of the alley, the iron shop door was still open.

The cicadas kept screaming, but to Li Shimin, it sounded like mockery.

“Cicada.”

“Cicada.”

“Cicada.”