TIPS – Chapter 114

During the meal, no one was in the mood for conversation anymore. At most, someone would tease the baby a little. In the past, whenever the baby laughed, everyone would laugh along. But now, it all felt a bit forced. So they stopped talking and quietly finished their meal.

After eating, Yang Shi silently cleaned up the dishes and headed to the kitchen. Inside the house, only Shen Dongming, Shen Junxi, and Benben were left—just the grandfather, father, and son.

Shen Dongming sighed. “Now that your wife’s gone, it feels like something’s missing in our home.” It affected everyone, and no matter how hard he tried to think positively, it didn’t help.

“…” Shen Junxi picked up his son and sat him on his thigh, sighing along with his father.

“In the blink of an eye, it’s already June,” Shen Dongming said. “At the latest, your wife will be back by August. That’s just two months. He’s still thinking about those lotus roots in the pond—how could he not come back?”

Shen Junxi chuckled. It was said as if those lotus roots were more important than they were. If Song Jingwei really wanted to leave for good, it wouldn’t matter whether it was twenty acres or a hundred acres of lotus roots—he wouldn’t care.

“Come on, smile. You’ve got to trust your wife,” Shen Dongming consoled. He completely understood how his son felt. If he had lost his wife, he’d be thinking about her all day long too—there was no help for it.

Even though he was the one feeling down, it was his father who had to offer comfort. Shen Junxi felt deeply grateful. After a moment of silence, he smiled and signed: “It’s okay. I believe in him.” Even if he believed Song Jingwei would return, not having him nearby made him miss him—miss him terribly.

“Heh… Kids have their own lives to live,” Shen Dongming chuckled. As a father, he could only offer advice; the rest was out of his hands. Let it be.

Summer arrived quietly, and the weather grew increasingly hot. Compared to the rains of March and April, May and June were dry to the extreme. It wasn’t until mid-July that the first rain finally came—a storm with thunder and lightning and a torrential downpour.

Shen Dongming was very worried about the tea plants and lotus roots. The lotuses in the pond had just started blooming, and the tea plants couldn’t withstand being waterlogged.

Yang Shi, seeing how anxious her husband was, said, “Wait until the rain lets up a bit, then take the workers out to check things.”

“Yeah,” Shen Dongming nodded, looking out at the rain pouring off the eaves. The lotus pond needed to be drained too—if the water overflowed, the fish and shrimp would escape.

After about an hour, Shen Junxi put on a rain cape and prepared to head out into the storm. He was also worried about the pond water and wanted to check on it.

“What’re you doing?” Shen Dongming quickly stopped him when he saw his son gearing up.

“The rain’s too heavy—the pond’s going to overflow,” Shen Junxi signed firmly, clearly determined to go.

“But there’s thunder in the sky!” Yang Shi said worriedly. She didn’t approve of her son going out in this weather.

“It’s okay, it’s not striking here,” Shen Junxi signed back, listening to the thunder in the distance. There was no more lightning visible—he figured the storm had passed.

“If you’re going, I’ll go with you,” Shen Dongming declared. He turned around and put on his rain gear, ready to head out with his son.

“Ai! You two!” Yang Shi had no way to stop them, so she could only remind them, “Be careful! If anything feels off, come right back!”

Shen Junxi turned and signed to her, “Don’t worry, Mom. Watch over the baby—we’ll be right back.”

Father and son headed out, hoes on their shoulders, running through the rain. They splashed through water all the way to the lotus pond. The water hadn’t overflowed yet, but it was getting close. If the rain continued at this rate for another half hour, it definitely would.

In the rain, Shen Dongming shouted, “Quick, drain the water! I’ll take care of ten outlets on this side—you handle the other side. Be careful!”

Shen Junxi tightened his rain cape and ran toward the lower half of the pond. Each pond had drainage openings that were usually sealed. Now, all they had to do was open them. To prevent fish and shrimp from escaping, a layer of mesh had been placed over the exits—an idea proposed by Song Jingwei, and it worked well.

“…” Even with the rain cape, it was still clumsy and parts of him were soaked through. Seeing that the rain wasn’t letting up at all, Shen Junxi busied himself even faster. In the end, he simply took off the cape and tossed it aside so he could work more freely.

After finishing his side, Shen Junxi ran over to help Shen Dongming.

Seeing that his son had also taken off his rain gear and was completely soaked, Shen Dongming was stunned for a moment. But he quickly turned his attention back to work. Getting the water out was the priority.

“Dad! I’m going to check on the tea fields!” When there were only three ponds left to drain, Shen Junxi gestured to his father and ran off with his hoe.

In truth, tea was best grown on terraced slopes. Their fields were on flat ground, so drainage wasn’t ideal. Walking through the spaces between the rows, water sloshed underfoot, and every step landed in deep mud. Though there were some drainage ditches around, they clearly weren’t deep enough. What Shen Junxi needed to do was dig the ditches deeper so the water could flow properly.

“Hey!” Shen Dongming looked at the large expanse of tea fields. Just the two of them couldn’t possibly manage it all. He ran over and shouted, “Let’s head back! The tea fields will be fine. Once the rain stops, we’ll come again!”

Shen Junxi shook his head. He put down his hoe and signed, “You go ahead. I’ll dig two more ditches, then I’ll come back.”

Seeing this, Shen Dongming said, “Alright then! I’ll dig two more ditches while you do, then we’ll go back together!” He ran to areas with serious water accumulation and quickly dug drainage channels. They had anticipated this situation before and already dug channels in various places. But only when the heavy rain actually came could they see where the worst accumulation was and where new ditches were needed.

Father and son worked together to manage the most waterlogged spots, though there was still much left to be done. Now, they were out of energy. Panting from the effort, Shen Dongming finally stopped and prepared to head home.

“Let’s go!” Shen Dongming pulled on his son—no matter what, they couldn’t stay any longer.

“I’m going to get my rain cape,” Shen Junxi signed to his father and ran back to the lotus pond to retrieve the rain cape he had taken off earlier.

“This kid!” Shen Dongming glanced at his son’s retreating figure and, braving the rain, quickly ran toward home.

Yang Shi was growing anxious at home. Seeing the rain hadn’t lessened in the slightest, she silently prayed for her husband and son to return safely.

When Shen Dongming finally came running in, soaked from head to toe, her heart eased—until she saw that her son wasn’t with him. She hurriedly asked, “Where’s Junxi? Why didn’t he come back with you?”

“He’s right behind me,” Shen Dongming said as he peeled off his soaked rain gear. It had done little good—he was drenched underneath anyway.

“Ai! Hurry and take a hot bath, go on, go!” Yang Shi quickly urged him.

Not long after, the young man entered the house, also drenched. Seeing how soaked he was made Yang Shi’s throat tighten with anger. He’d clearly brought a rain cape—why hadn’t he worn it? She said, “Go take a bath right now, and change into dry clothes, quickly!”

Shen Junxi didn’t have time to explain. He just nodded and left to clean up.

When father and son reappeared again, they were finally dry. Only Shen Junxi’s hair was still wet; he was slowly drying it with a towel himself.

Seeing this, Yang Shi scolded, “Why didn’t you wear your rain cape? Look at your father—his hair’s still dry.” Even though it was July, she still worried he might catch a chill.

Shen Junxi paused his hand and signed, “I got anxious and took it off.” At the time, all he could think about was getting the job done quickly and stopping the water from overflowing. He couldn’t even remember exactly when he decided to take it off.

“You…” Yang Shi looked at her son, unsure what to say. She knew all too well how much he cared about his wife—he even took everything his wife had managed and treasured it as well.

“August is almost here,” Shen Dongming said with a sigh as he sat down.

The room fell silent. Everyone’s expressions were calm. Song Jingwei had been gone so long—what they had to get used to, they had already gotten used to. Days passed one after another. August had become something to long for—the closer it came, the more anxious they felt.

At that moment, Song Jingwei was still on the road.

After leaving Lihua Town, he traveled to several nearby places—some were underdeveloped small towns, others were bustling, historic cities. The more developed places were indeed nothing like the countryside. It felt like walking from a rural village into a major metropolis. In the countryside, nothing was fancy or refined. But in the city, people were divided into classes. Places were split between high and low society, and people came in every kind of identity and status.

Some people were true elites—born into prominent families, highly educated and cultured. They lived lives of luxury, unable to understand the sorrow and struggles of common folk, nor did they need to. It was like their carriages passed by peasants every day, but they merely brushed shoulders—two worlds that would never truly interact.

Song Jingwei met some people, visited some places, and saw many things.

Power, wealth, beauty—these things appeared around him one by one, then passed by. He always felt like an outsider, just a pair of eyes watching everything unfold.

“What kind of person would it take to catch your eye?” Wang Shaoyi, a newly made friend of Song Jingwei, sighed. He had brought in batch after batch of beautiful people, only to have them all rejected.

Wang Shaoyi was a famously dissolute young master in the city. Though he hadn’t known Song Jingwei long, he enjoyed the company of this mysterious man. But every time they went out to indulge, though Song Jingwei would eat, drink, and play along, he refused to sleep with any of the beauties.

Not only that, every time he saw Wang Shaoyi choosing a beauty to spend the night with, he would snarkily wish him death “on a beauty’s belly.”

“Go enjoy yourself. I’m not interested,” Song Jingwei said as he reclined on a cushion, holding a wine cup in one hand and propping his slightly tipsy head with the other. Outside, the July night was cool and breezy. The sky sparkled with stars—it would clearly be another sunny day tomorrow.

His thoughts wandered to that long-missed village. He wondered what the weather was like there—was it also sunny and bright? How were the tea plants? The lotus roots? The lotus pond must be in bloom by now, and the fish and shrimp probably grown.

The more he thought, the more he missed that plump little bundle of joy. He hadn’t seen the child in many days.

“You can smile?” Wang Shaoyi caught a rare glimpse of his smile and remarked in surprise.

“Is that so strange?” Song Jingwei asked casually. His wine cup was still half full, but he no longer felt like drinking. These past few days, he had already broken his no-drinking rule several times.

“It is strange. Don’t tell me you’ve already fallen for someone?” Wang Shaoyi suddenly guessed the reason, and his expression cleared with understanding. He smiled. “No wonder you never touch the beauties. So that’s why.”

To be loved by a man like this—cold and elegant—it must feel like the greatest luck in the world. “Whoever it is you like is really fortunate,” he added, curious now. What kind of person could win over someone like him?

“You’re wrong. The one I like is not lucky,” Song Jingwei said bluntly. Rather than calling it fortunate, it would be more accurate to say it was a curse.

“How so?” Wang Shaoyi asked.

“It’s hard to explain. I…” Song Jingwei said, “I’m going back home.”

Just like that, so suddenly, the next day he bid farewell to Wang Shaoyi and set out on horseback to return home. Because he had traveled far when he left, it would take at least ten days to make the journey back.

In these past days, he had visited many places. Some places he lingered for a while—three to five days at most. Others he merely passed through, finding nothing worth staying for. Just a glance, then he would move on. He realized that it was difficult to truly like a place unless it held someone or something he was emotionally attached to. But while traveling, his heart had once again turned cold and hard. Nothing seemed to attract or hold his attention for long.

After all his wandering, Song Jingwei felt disappointed. Traveling the world had once been a dream of his. But now that he was fulfilling that dream, it wasn’t as enjoyable as he had imagined. Everything seemed rather unimpressive—not as worth pursuing as he had once thought.

On the third night of his return journey, he passed through a small town. He spent the night in a local inn, planning to stock up on food and water the next day before continuing.

After breakfast the next morning, while buying some supplies on the street, an unexpected incident occurred.

A group of armored soldiers suddenly appeared, storming through the streets aggressively and grabbing people.

Song Jingwei was just about to pay the sesame bun vendor when he was abruptly seized. Without a word, a soldier grabbed his arm and shouted, “Come with us!”

Both the bun vendor and Song Jingwei were startled. But he quickly regained his composure and asked, “What’s going on, sirs? Why are you taking me?”

“Cut the nonsense and come with us!” a soldier snapped, dragging him back to the group by force.

Song Jingwei noticed that he wasn’t the only one—there were several other civilians who had also been seized, all adult men. Their expressions mirrored his: panic and anxiety.

“Is this conscription? Are you drafting men for the army?” Song Jingwei quickly guessed what was happening. “Sirs, I’m someone’s husband—I’m not suitable for military service.”

The soldiers, having clearly heard every excuse in the book, paid him no mind.

“I’m telling the truth. I have a child under one year old at home,” Song Jingwei insisted. It was his own fault, really—he’d stopped dressing like a male spouse while on the road. Even back in the village, he dressed no differently from a regular man.

“Enough talking. That’s exactly what the others behind you just said,” one of the soldiers sneered. “Every man says he’s a husband, some even claim to be pregnant—total lies once we check.”

At least one soldier was responding. Song Jingwei continued, “I’m not from here. I’m from Lihua Town. My husband’s a farmer in our village—he’s a scholar.”

“Pfft! A farmer scholar? Don’t be ridiculous. Shut up and stop spouting nonsense!” another soldier barked, glaring at the one who had spoken earlier. Grabbing men off the street like this wasn’t exactly allowed—higher-ups had forbidden such methods. But in order to meet their quota, they had no choice. Collateral damage was inevitable.

But they were nearly done filling their headcount anyway, so a few mistaken recruits didn’t matter. What mattered to them was completing the task and earning military merit.

“Sirs, could you at least allow me to write a letter? Someone can vouch for me—I’m truly a husband, and I have a child at home. I’m not suited to be a soldier,” Song Jingwei pleaded. This was the only idea he could think of.

“Shut up! No more talking!” a soldier barked fiercely, ignoring anything else he said.

Song Jingwei now clearly sensed something was wrong. Even for conscription, this kind of random street grab was not standard. Back in Lihua Town, the soldiers had been respectful, following proper procedure and only recruiting qualified men. Even when visiting villages, they worked off name registries, and each household was only asked for one man, with no force involved.

Realizing he couldn’t help himself for now, Song Jingwei fell silent.

Soon after, the soldiers grabbed a few more able-bodied men from the street. Seemingly satisfied, one of them said, “Let’s go. We can report back now.”

From this, Song Jingwei knew for sure—this wasn’t official conscription. They were just grabbing people to meet a quota.

“You lot better behave. When we get there, don’t say a word—it won’t do any good. Only if you survive the war will you have a chance to go home, understand?”

The men, all commoners, didn’t dare argue with these hardened soldiers who’d seen real battle. One by one, they hung their heads, full of regret. They were about to be sent to the battlefield and couldn’t be more dejected. In their hearts, they cursed their bad luck. If only they hadn’t gone out today… they wouldn’t have been taken. It was all just terrible misfortune.