RYEY – Chapter 239 Unboxing

Li Huan went out and fetched a basin of water. Mother Li saw him and pursed her lips in a smile—it seemed she would have a grandchild to hold soon. By the time Cheng Qiao woke up, it was already dark. Li Huan carried in some food, ready to feed her.

Cheng Qiao sat up, sensing that something was off. Her brow furrowed slightly. In an instant, she vanished, and when she reappeared, she was holding something in her hand, giving Li Huan a sideways glance.

Li Huan saw the underwear in her hand and blushed. He had been a bit impatient, but he was starving—they hadn’t been together for so many days, and he had been longing for her.

“Hmph, you’re sleeping alone tonight.”

“Wife… I’m… sorry…”

But Cheng Qiao had already disappeared. Li Huan stomped his foot in regret, his face full of helplessness. Fortunately, this time Cheng Qiao didn’t take little Cheng Li with her; otherwise, he wouldn’t have known when his wife would come back.

Cheng Qiao entered her space and first went to the backyard for an inspection. Under her diligent watering, the yellowed soil slowly turned dark, and the ginseng trees gradually regained vitality.

Most importantly, the Qilin Rebirth Tree, which had been drooping, slowly lifted its massive head. Cheng Qiao poured a few buckets of well water on its qilin head and roots, apologizing and promising that next time she harvested the resurrection herbs, she wouldn’t strip them all away.

The huge qilin head tilted slightly, giving a “yeah, right” look, leaving Cheng Qiao feeling awkward. Fine, she thought—she would prove herself to this spirit tree with her actions.

Returning to the general store, she prepared some food, took a bath, and went back to sleep. She slept deeply, undisturbed even by little Cheng Li crying outside.

When Cheng Qiao woke up, the house was quiet. Xuhui and Li Le had gone to school, Mother Li had pushed Xuhui’s grandmother to Ye Jun’s house for acupuncture, and Li Huan was surely busy in the fields.

Cheng Qiao went back to her space and began inspecting the twenty-eight boxes she had retrieved. Several contained fine silks and brocades, including a few pieces of Yun brocade and Shu brocade.

She opened a few more boxes to find gold-thread pillows, gauzy mosquito nets, and pearl-embroidered shoes. Cheng Qiao tried on a pair of shoes—they were too small. She wore size thirty-six, meaning her mother must have had even smaller feet.

Other boxes contained matching sets of bowls and tea sets. These were in a completely different league from their coarse household porcelain—exquisite thin-skinned ceramics.

“Could these be blue-and-white porcelain?” Cheng Qiao carefully took out a gilded-rim bowl. It was so thin she could see her fingers through it.

Box after box revealed more treasures: jade items with dragon motifs, cloisonné incense burners, gold-painted lacquered bells for birthday celebrations of immortals.

There were also boxes full of gold, silver, and jade items, as well as various jewelry and headpieces. One box even contained a smaller box, which held a pile of land deeds.

Cheng Qiao sighed. These deeds might be recoverable in the capital, but for other places like Jinling or Huacheng, it was probably hopeless.

With only a few boxes left, Cheng Qiao had a premonition she would see national treasures. Carefully opening one, she found a thick layer of cotton padding. Pulling it aside with effort, she gasped.

Inside the large box was a single vase, wrapped securely. No matter how the box was turned, the vase would not be damaged.

Cheng Qiao knew this vase must be a national treasure, but her lack of knowledge left her unable to identify its era.

A vase would usually be valuable as part of a pair, she thought, and continued opening boxes. To her surprise, they contained scrolls—ten in total—featuring paintings like “Hundred Beauties,” “Chang’e Holding the Moon,” Wang Xizhi Watching Geese, “Crossing the Bridge,” and “Liu Pavilion.”

Further boxes contained gold bars, gold ingots, and gold leaves, separated by redwood boards. Cheng Qiao had become numb; the few gold bars her father had given her paled in comparison.

The last box awaited. Cheng Qiao took a deep breath and opened it, nearly dropping her jaw. Inside was a phoenix crown.

Her hands trembling slightly, she carefully lifted the crown. It felt heavy—at least ten pounds. She had wanted to try it on, but immediately abandoned the idea. Wearing something so heavy on her head would surely strain her neck.

She closed all the lids and sent the boxes to the warehouse with her mind. These treasures couldn’t be used now; over time, they could be converted into money to build her business empire.

“Qiao, I’m home!”

Li Huan’s voice called outside, mixed with little Cheng Li’s childlike cries of “Mommy.” Cheng Qiao stepped out of her space to see Li Huan’s eyes sparkling as he looked at her.

“Wife, let’s not be angry anymore. You hold the child, I’ll cook.”

“What man cooks? I’ll do it.”

Cheng Qiao wasn’t actually angry—she was just pretending. Li Huan quickly followed her; she cooked while he tended the fire. Little Cheng Li even learned to throw the firewood into the stove.

By the time a table full of dishes was ready, Mother Li pushed Xuhui’s grandmother back. She could now sit in her wheelchair and eat without being fed.

“Qiao, why did you make so many dishes?”

Seeing the full table, Xuhui’s grandmother felt her heart ache. The family had old and young, plus her as a disabled person. Making so much food must have been exhausting for Cheng Qiao and Huan.

“Grandma, don’t worry. I often go up the mountain—this is wild rabbit, that’s wild chicken, all free. And the vegetables come from our backyard.”

Li Huan smiled, but Xuhui’s grandmother still felt hesitant. Without her here, the family would save a lot.

“Huan, I want to go back home. I can move now and take care of myself.”

“No. Not unless you throw away your cane and wheelchair. This is your home with Xuhui.”

Li Huan deliberately spoke sternly, moving Xuhui’s grandmother to tears. Mother Li, annoyed, swatted Li Huan on the head.

“Mom, if you try to kill your own son, I won’t tell your eldest that he’s getting married, just to annoy you.”

“Pfft…”

Cheng Qiao spit out a mouthful of soup, laughing. Mother Li grabbed Li Huan’s ear, demanding to know what he had said.

Li Huan gently removed her hand and confidently said, “I said I won’t tell you eldest son said he’s coming back to get married.”

Mother Li: “….”

Xuhui’s grandmother wiped away her tears and laughed heartily. She didn’t want to leave—this home was so warm and harmonious, and Xuhui could study. How could she be so selfish as to only think of herself?