TIPS – Chapter 128

“Still, the eldest branch of the Shen family has it good—they found a prime piece of land with great feng shui right from the start. Just look at their grain—there’s so much it can’t even fit inside the storage.”

“Your family’s not bad either, you were among the first to move in.”

“Hehe, some families weren’t so lucky. They only came after the nearby spots were all taken.”

“Maybe they just don’t like being around too many people. Maybe they prefer a bit of peace and quiet.”

As Shen Dongying passed by carrying some things, he heard those gossiping women chattering away. He instinctively took it as criticism directed at his own family. A fire burned quietly in his chest, but he knew better than to argue with a bunch of women, so he just held his head high and walked on.

By the end of October, things in the village had settled down. Everyone had sold what needed selling and stockpiled enough grain. Now all they could do was wait for news. In truth, they hoped the news would never come—so they could just keep living in peace and stability.

By then, Pei Hongxuan’s baby was a little over a month old. The child was growing well in the Shen family’s main branch, and had been well cared for. Since Pei Hongxuan no longer needed to lie in bed to recover, by the end of October they proposed moving back to their own home.

Yang Shi expressed concern, “Can the two of you manage everything on your own? Really, it’s no trouble having you stay here. We can all look out for each other.”

This was what everyone in the Shen family’s main branch thought. They weren’t stingy people, and they genuinely hoped Pei Hongxuan and Wu Xi would stay on with the baby. After all, things had been unsettled lately, and it felt safer to stick together.

But Pei Hongxuan gently declined Yang Shi’s kindness. “We’ve already troubled you long enough. Now that I’m able to help care for the baby, we can handle things ourselves. Really, it’s fine.”

He was also thinking that their place up in the hills was all set up, and it’d be good to take Wu Xi and the baby back to live there for a while.

“Well, have it your way then. But if it gets to be too much, let us know, alright?” Since she couldn’t persuade them, Yang Shi didn’t push further.

Around the same time, the Shen family’s lotus pond had wrapped up its harvest—except for one section that remained untouched, left for the winter and early spring. If they couldn’t finish eating it, they’d just let it sprout and grow again.

Song Jingwei had already tallied the number of workers. While checking the numbers, he said, “Given the situation this year, I think we should give the workers an early break. They’re not really in the mood to work, and there’s not much to do in the fields anyway.”

Shen Junxi nodded in agreement, gesturing, “Then give them the time off. Let them go home and take care of their own preparations.” Some families might not be ready yet.

“Mm. Let me finish tallying the numbers,” Song Jingwei said, his fingers clicking rapidly across the abacus. Speaking didn’t slow him down at all. “And let’s close the school in a few days too. Let the kids and the teachers go home.”

Shen Junxi wholeheartedly agreed and gestured again: “Yes, let them all go home.” Especially the teachers.

“Pfft…”

Too well did he understand what the young man was thinking, and he found it amusing.

Once all the books were tallied and cross-checked, Song Jingwei got up and stretched. A cup of hot tea was handed to him just in time. He took it with a smile. “Thanks.”

He looked over at the young man, already knowing how much he disliked hearing those words.

“….” Shen Junxi looked at him helplessly, but the other man only returned the gaze with a teasing smirk, making Shen Junxi’s heart feel slightly warm.

Since the weather had turned cold, Song Jingwei was afraid the baby might catch a chill sleeping alone, so he moved back to the big bed to sleep beside the child. Shen Junxi, meanwhile, had been sleeping alone for a while, and hadn’t had any intimate moments with his wife for quite some time. Naturally, the nights had grown lonely and hard to bear.

With more idle time on his hands lately, his energy was restless, and he often found himself longing during the night—but without relief.

When Song Jingwei set down his teacup and sat back down, Shen Junxi came up behind him, placing both hands on his shoulders and gently massaging.

Song Jingwei smiled, thinking the young man was being considerate of his hard work and helping to ease his fatigue. But soon he realized that those hands weren’t simply soothing his muscles—they were caressing instead.

The young man’s warm fingers traced along his neck with lingering affection.

“Feels nice to touch?”

“Mhm…” Shen Junxi was immersed in the tender texture beneath his fingertips, his expression full of satisfaction. Slowly, he brushed Song Jingwei’s hair aside, exposing a pale stretch of neck. He lowered his head, inhaling the familiar scent, his eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of it.

“You…” Before Song Jingwei could finish his sentence, he felt a warm sensation on his neck—Shen Junxi’s lips were pressing kiss after kiss onto it.

Shen Junxi hadn’t intended to take things further—he only meant to touch, to soothe his longing. But once his lips met that skin, he couldn’t help himself anymore. It was no longer just touching—it became kisses, open-mouthed and lingering on that soft skin.

The more he kissed, the harder it was to stop. His hands pulled open the robe and continued downward.

“….” Song Jingwei wrapped his arms around the young man’s neck, his shoulders bare in the cool air, trembling slightly.

“….” Shen Junxi, tempted to undo the sash at the other’s waist, fought against the urge even as he kissed him. His fingers brushed the belt repeatedly, but in the end, he restrained himself. He forced himself to lift his head and stop. Then he kissed Song Jingwei on the lips while gently closing his robe again.

“……” When the young man kissed his chest, Song Jingwei truly felt something—but the young man quickly stopped again, leaving him caught in an unresolved state. Still, the kissing helped, easing some of the physical tension.

When the kiss finally ended, both of them were breathless, and each could feel the other’s desire.

Especially Shen Junxi—when he felt the heat from below pressing against his thigh, his face flushed deeply, excitement bubbling up. It was the first time he’d ever felt such a direct response from Song Jingwei. In the past, it was always him getting flustered, while the other remained unmoved.

Now, finally, it was different. Even during a kiss, the other was clearly stirred.

“You keep staring—what do you want to do?” Song Jingwei leaned back in the chair, breathing heavily, but with ease.

“……” Shen Junxi, already shy to begin with, was now visibly flustered. Still, he didn’t look away. He had looked—so what? He liked looking. Raising his head, he met Song Jingwei’s gaze with a mix of embarrassment and yearning.

“Pfft…” Song Jingwei chuckled. He found that he didn’t dislike Shen Junxi in this state—on the contrary, he was actually quite adorable. He wanted to tease him, to get closer, to return the affection… to explore more pleasure together.

“……” Shen Junxi was startled by another kiss, but quickly melted into it, wrapping his arms around the other’s shoulders and leaning into the next round of intimacy.

Their lips tingled from the prolonged kissing when Song Jingwei pushed him away and said, “Get up.”

Shen Junxi blinked and stood, puzzled by the sudden change. But he soon understood—Song Jingwei had gotten up and moved to the nearby chaise. He beckoned: “Come here and help me.”

Shen Junxi, still awkward, walked over slowly and was pulled down onto the bed to sit.

Song Jingwei unfastened his belt leisurely, saying as he did so, “Just from kissing you, I’m burning up. You don’t mind lending a hand, do you?”

“……” Shen Junxi took a deep breath and shook his head. How could he mind? Not just this—he’d be willing even if it were…

“Just like I did for you last time,” Song Jingwei said, still breathing heavily, pulling Shen Junxi’s hand to his waistband before lying back to enjoy himself.

They were both grown men—who hadn’t done such things before? Song Jingwei rarely had the urge, usually finding it unnecessary to do it himself. But having Shen Junxi help was different. He was much more willing in that case.

Shen Junxi swallowed, remembering how Song Jingwei had done it for him last time. Slowly, his hand began to move. He had always been gentle and careful with Song Jingwei—this time was no different. He gave it his full attention, no distractions.

All his focus was on what was in his hand—something not so different from his own.

If it weren’t Song Jingwei’s, Shen Junxi wouldn’t even consider touching it. In truth, he felt conflicted. He used to pursue women, though those relationships never worked out.

Still, Song Jingwei didn’t seem to care about that, which was both a relief and a bit unsettling. He thought—if one day Song Jingwei got jealous over him, that would mean everything to him.

“……” Lost in thought, Shen Junxi leaned in and shifted his posture to hold the other from the side. It made him feel more connected, more intimate.

“You’re too gentle—it’s not working,” Song Jingwei said with his eyes closed, placing his hand over Shen Junxi’s, guiding him to use the right pressure.

“……” Shen Junxi’s breathing deepened at once. For a moment, it felt like what they were holding together wasn’t Song Jingwei’s—but his own…

“Just like that…” Song Jingwei breathed, mouth slightly open. It really did feel different when it wasn’t his own hand—better, even.

“……” Shen Junxi couldn’t help kissing him again, seeking his lips with a tender kiss.

But tenderness didn’t excite as much as passion did. Song Jingwei grabbed the back of his head and returned the kiss more fiercely.

It didn’t take long before the feeling peaked. Under the dual stimulation, he climaxed—at that moment, he let go of Shen Junxi’s lips, fully surrendering to the brief moment of blank ecstasy.

“……” One moment they were tangled together, the next he was suddenly left alone. Shen Junxi lowered his head slightly, feeling a little disappointed.

“Heh…” Song Jingwei saw what the young man was thinking and said lazily, “Men are just like that. Once it’s over, the need goes away.” So now he had no urge to cuddle or kiss—maybe he’d feel like it again later.

“That’s not true,” Shen Junxi was still holding him. He gestured, signing with his hands, “No matter when, I still…” want to be close. Especially afterward—he wanted to hold him tight and share the joy.

“That’s just you. Most people are like me,” Song Jingwei said, eyes half-closed. As the afterglow faded, his whole body relaxed, and even his mood softened. He rested his hand over Shen Junxi’s arm around his waist, ready for a nap.

“How do you know?” Shen Junxi held his hand in return and began tracing something into his palm.

“Someone’s done a survey on this before,” Song Jingwei said. These days, what kind of survey hasn’t been done? There are even more private ones. But… he glanced back at the young man and, sure enough, saw the look of confusion and embarrassment on his face, as if saying, How could there be such a survey in the world? Isn’t it shameful?

“Hehehe…” Song Jingwei closed his eyes again, going back to sleep, leaving the young man to puzzle it out on his own.

“I don’t believe you,” Shen Junxi said, resting his chin on his wife’s shoulder. He simply stayed quietly with him. Before long, he had drifted off to sleep as well, his earlier excitement fading without him even realizing it.

Time passed peacefully until mid-November. One day, the main Shen branch received a letter.

Seeing it was from Yuan Guanlin, Song Jingwei quickly opened it. In the letter, Yuan Guanlin said that their ships would cease operations by the end of November. There were already signs of unrest in the northeast—skirmishes had broken out frequently near the border, disturbing the local populace. Most of them had already evacuated.

At the end of the letter, Yuan Guanlin also entrusted Song Jingwei with watching over the old master Yuan. He was heading back to his home in the central region at the end of November, but didn’t think it appropriate to bring the elderly man along on such a taxing journey.

Perhaps it was under Yuan Qingsui’s instructions—otherwise, Yuan Guanlin probably wouldn’t have shared these things with him.

After reading the letter, Song Jingwei shared the contents with his family. Everyone fell into a heavy silence. It seemed this war was inevitable now—it would happen.

“It’s nothing. Haven’t we all been preparing for this? If those enemy soldiers dare to come, we’ll make sure they don’t go back,” Shen Dongming said through gritted teeth.

“Exactly. And it’s not like we’ll necessarily lose,” Song Jingwei added, though in his heart he couldn’t help but worry about Yuan Qingsui, who was stationed far away in the military camp. As a general, he would surely be going to the front lines. If the front were to fall… Yuan Qingsui might also…

Given the situation, all Song Jingwei could do was hope for the best while preparing for the worst.

Shen Dongming immediately shared the news with the villagers. Once again, a wave of anxiety and panic swept through the area. Those who had been indifferent until now scrambled to make preparations. Those who still felt uneasy added more supplies to their stockpiles in the mountains.

One day in late November, a merchant ship was sailing down the river—not just carrying goods this time, but mostly people. That’s right, the entire ship was packed with people who had paid a hefty sum five days earlier just to secure a spot onboard. Many of them had no idea where their next stop would be, or where they’d end up. They only wanted to flee their homeland—now caught in the throes of war.

Qiao Lang’s family huddled in a corner of the ship. Some were sitting, some standing, but most had no choice but to stand. Only three elderly family members had seats to rest.

“Lang’er…” Sitting behind Qiao Lang, an elder man in his early fifties hesitated before speaking. From the look on his face, he seemed deeply worried. This was Qiao Lang’s second uncle, Qiao Yun. He said, “That family you mentioned—are you sure they’ll take us in?”

Qiao Lang nodded quickly and said reassuringly, “Don’t worry, they’re kind people. If you don’t believe me, ask Uncle.”

Mute Uncle also nodded and gestured affirmatively, trying to reassure them that there was nothing to worry about.

But Qiao Yun was still uneasy. He turned to his husband and said, “Lang’er and the younger one said we’re almost there, but I still don’t feel this place is very safe. Maybe we should go even farther away.”

Qiao Lang’s father, Lu Jingping, patted his husband’s hand and said, “Calm down. It’s still early. If it really turns out to be unsafe, we can still leave then. But right now, with the elderly and children, we’re in no shape for long travel.” After just five days on the ship, people were already coming down with all sorts of illnesses.

Fortunately, their family was in relatively good health—no one had fallen ill.

“Dad’s right. Since little brother and Uncle both say it’s a good place, let’s go have a look,” said Qiao Lang’s older brother, Lu Mengyang. Beside him were his wife and two sons. He had married late, and both his sons were still young—the elder only five, the younger just three.

“Exactly. And no matter what, we owe those people. It’s only right to go see them,” Lu Jingping said, gazing at his long-lost brother. He added emotionally, “If it weren’t for them, who knows when we would’ve reunited…” Thinking of their deceased parents, Lu Jingping gripped his brother’s hand tightly, overcome with emotion, tears streaming down his face.

Mute Uncle also held his older brother’s hand tightly, patting him repeatedly in comfort, though he himself struggled to hold back his emotions. The decades they had spent apart had been unimaginably difficult.

“Jingfeng…” Lu Jingping called out his younger brother’s name. He had thought he’d never see his brother again in this lifetime. Who would’ve thought that, after ten years away from home, his youngest son would one day bring his brother back? When they reunited, he had almost dropped to his knees in gratitude to the heavens.

Maybe the heavens had taken pity on him—for being so miserable, so devout—and brought his brother back to him at last.

Later, when he heard his youngest son recount what had happened, he was terrified. If anything had gone slightly wrong, his son would never have met his uncle…

And when he learned that his brother had been harmed by others—his tongue cut out—Lu Jingping couldn’t sleep for several nights. He went days with red eyes, blaming himself. “It’s all my fault,” he’d say again and again. The family had heard this kind of thing from him for decades, but never had it been as raw and painful as this time.