TIPS – Chapter 15

The uncle and nephew gritted their teeth and refused to accept the deal. They assumed Song Jingwei would be forced to make concessions.

What they didn’t realize was that in his past life, Song Jingwei worked in real estate.

Unlike other young masters, he was personally involved in his projects—spending more than half of each month at construction sites.

And if there was one thing he had encountered countless times, it was stubborn holdouts.

Song Jingwei looked at the two “holdouts” in front of him and said, “You won’t agree? Fine. Then I won’t reclaim your land. You can keep farming it for the next two years. After that, I’ll take back all sixteen acres—without paying you a single coin—and I’ll still collect two more years of rent in the meantime.”

Sun Laizi and Sun Zheng were stunned.

With this calculation, they wouldn’t gain anything at all!

“We’re leaving.”

Song Jingwei turned to the Shen family and said, then flicked his sleeves and walked out of the village chief’s house.

There was no need to waste any more words on people like Sun Laizi and Sun Zheng.

Once word spread that he was hiring villagers for thirty taels a year, they would regret it on their own.

Shen Junxi had quietly followed along the entire time.

Originally, he was worried that Song Jingwei would suffer losses, but instead, he had witnessed his sharp-tongued, decisive nature.

He had always thought Song Jingwei just didn’t like to talk—but now, he wasn’t so sure.

“What are you looking at?”

The Shen couple walked ahead, while Shen Junxi and Song Jingwei trailed behind.

But for some reason, Song Jingwei felt like someone was watching him in the dark.

“Hmm…?”

Shen Junxi quickly shook his head, his cheeks gradually turning red in the night.

He thought that, in this darkness, Song Jingwei wouldn’t notice.

Earlier, after speaking so much at the village chief’s house, Song Jingwei had loosened up a little.

Without thinking, he tried to start a conversation with Shen Junxi—but when he got no response, he was abruptly reminded that the person beside him was mute.

His mood instantly soured, and he fell silent, losing any interest in continuing the conversation.

At this moment, Song Jingwei felt a bit puzzled.

Shen Junxi had always been mute, yet it never felt like a flaw or something abrupt. Instead, he stood beside him quietly, naturally, seamlessly fitting in.

He had met someone like this before—a unique artist with calm yet vibrant eyes, just like his art, which was well-loved.

The only difference was that the artist had been physically healthy.

Perhaps it was just a matter of personal temperament.

After thinking about it for a moment, Song Jingwei set the thought aside.

When he returned home, he immediately immersed himself in work, jotting down some ideas he had on the way back.

At some point, Shen Junxi quietly appeared behind him.

It wasn’t that he deliberately moved without sound—it was simply a habit. He wasn’t the type to make noise in the first place.

As a result, when he leaned in to watch what Song Jingwei was writing, Song Jingwei had no idea.

Even less so did he know that Shen Junxi was secretly delighted.

The reason?

Song Jingwei’s handwriting was… absolutely hideous.

Finally!

Shen Junxi no longer had to fear being disliked for his own poor handwriting—because his wife’s was even worse!

Feeling secretly happy about this, he reached out and poked Song Jingwei’s shoulder.

However, Song Jingwei was deep in thought and didn’t react.

Shen Junxi shifted to the side, poked him again, and hummed softly.

This time, Song Jingwei snapped out of it.

He jerked his head up sharply, his face momentarily cold and severe, startling Shen Junxi, who took two steps back.

It wasn’t intentional—Song Jingwei just had a habit of keeping a serious face while working.

It was simply his way of focusing.

Realizing this, he said, “Sorry, I didn’t notice you.”

As he spoke, his expression returned to its usual state.

Although he still wasn’t smiling or particularly warm, he looked a hundred times better than before.

Shen Junxi shook his head and waved his hands, then, seeing that Song Jingwei was indeed acting the same as usual, he walked over, picked up a brush, and wrote:

“Go bathe.”

His handwriting was far better than Song Jingwei’s.

Since his train of thought had already been interrupted, Song Jingwei decided to stop working.

He rubbed his neck and said, “Alright, I’ll go now.”

As he got up to find a change of clothes, Shen Junxi slipped out of the room and went to the kitchen to heat water.

By the time Song Jingwei reached the bathing room, the wooden tub was already filled, and the water temperature was just right.

Standing outside the door, Shen Junxi watched him silently, his eyes resembling a certain kind of delicate starflower.

“I’m going to bathe. You can leave now.”

Song Jingwei walked over and closed the door, making sure he wouldn’t be standing guard outside.

After his bath, Song Jingwei gathered his dirty clothes onto a wooden tray and headed to the well to fetch water for washing.

The well was the old-fashioned kind, with an opening as wide as a water vat, and a wooden bucket tied to a hemp rope.

As he reached out to pull up the bucket, a hand suddenly extended from beside him, gripping the rope effortlessly.

With just a few swift movements, the bucket was drawn up, poured into the wooden basin, then thrown back into the well—and lifted up again within seconds.

The fluidity of the movements was something Song Jingwei could never match.

When he finally snapped out of it, Shen Junxi was already crouching by the well, scrubbing his clothes.

A faint sense of helplessness washed over Song Jingwei.

He had intended to wash his clothes himself.

Once Shen Junxi had hung the clothes on a bamboo rack to dry, Song Jingwei told him, “You don’t have to wash my clothes. I can do it myself.”

Clothing was a private matter, and his mild obsession with cleanliness made him uncomfortable.

Shen Junxi’s eyes widened slightly, as if he didn’t understand why his help was being refused.

For some reason, Song Jingwei didn’t like this kind of behavior—the way he seemed eager to please.

After all, he was a man, and so was Shen Junxi.

Just because he had married into another family didn’t mean he had to accept being treated like a woman.

Crossing his arms, he lowered his voice and said, “You’re a man. Don’t you think washing someone else’s clothes is… inappropriate?”

Hearing this, Shen Junxi’s wide eyes narrowed slightly, but his confusion remained.

He shook his head—he didn’t think it was inappropriate at all.

“Forget it. I shouldn’t have brought this up.”

Song Jingwei shook his head as well.

He had completely forgotten that he was dealing with an ancient-era person—who knew what their mindset was like?

Shen Junxi suddenly looked dejected.

He could tell from Song Jingwei’s tone that there was something unpleasant behind his words, but he didn’t know what he had done wrong.

“Alright, go to sleep.”

With a sharp clap, Song Jingwei smacked a mosquito away—he wasn’t about to stand outside all night feeding the bugs.

Not long after they returned inside, Shen Junxi fumbled his way in as well.

By then, Song Jingwei had already gotten into bed, as usual, lying on the outer side.

A few minutes passed before a quiet figure climbed into bed, slipped past him, and settled on the inner side.

In the dim silence, Song Jingwei murmured:

“The blanket is too thick. We should switch to a thinner one tomorrow.”

Shen Junxi touched the blanket cautiously.

It did seem a bit thick…

But it was so warm.

He quite liked it.

“Mmm…”

Tomorrow, they would switch to a thinner one.

The next morning, after breakfast, Song Jingwei pulled out a tenant roster from a wooden box containing land deeds.

He handed it to Shen Dongming and asked, “Are you familiar with these families?”

Forgive him—his personality was just stubborn like that.

He simply couldn’t bring himself to call them ‘Father’ or ‘Mother’.

Let alone say things like ‘husband’ or ‘darling’.

Shen Dongming glanced through the list, then picked out a few names. “These are villagers, but I only recognize a few of them.”

He wasn’t the type to visit neighbors often.

Most of his free time was spent tending to his own fields, and the only places he ever went were a few nearby households.

“How can we notify them? I want to talk to them.” Song Jingwei asked.

“Just send a kid to run the errand. A few coins will be enough,” Shen Dongming replied with a simple, honest smile.

Hearing the mention of money, Song Jingwei got up and went inside, retrieving a small ingot of silver from a wooden box. Then, he went to the kitchen, found Yang Shi, and handed the silver to her, saying, “Take this. It’s today’s expenses.”

The ingot weighed precisely two taels. Holding it in her hand, Yang Shi was stunned.

“Two taels in a single day?!”

That was way too much—an outright waste!

“You don’t have to spend it all, but food and daily necessities shouldn’t be lacking.”

Before she could respond, Song Jingwei was already rushing off, opening a storage chest while calling out, “Shen Junxi, come here!”

Shen Junxi was feeding the pigs when he heard his name.

His hand shook in surprise, accidentally spilling pig slop all over a pig’s head.

He muttered an apology, abandoned the mother pig and piglets, and rushed off to find his wife.

This was the first time he had heard his name from Song Jingwei’s lips.

His entire body reacted in an unfamiliar way.

By the time Shen Junxi arrived, Song Jingwei had already pulled out several rolls of fabric in suitable colors.

Noticing Shen Junxi standing nearby, watching him intently, he shoved the fabric into his arms and said, “Give these to your mother to make some summer clothes.”

The fabric was all high-quality cotton.

Shen Junxi ran his fingers over it, then dashed off excitedly to find Yang Shi.

“Wait!” Song Jingwei called.

“Ask your mother for some copper coins. I need them.”

Shen Junxi, still clutching the fabric, grinned back at him, then disappeared into Yang Shi’s room.

Yang Shi had already returned to her room from the kitchen.

Seeing her son enter with an armful of beautiful fabric, she asked, “This is…?”

Shen Junxi set the fabric down and gestured in sign language:

“Wife said it’s for you—to make clothes.”

Yang Shi’s hands immediately reached out to touch the fabric.

It was soft, fine cotton, perfect for making clothes.

Delighted, she beamed.

“Your wife picked excellent colors! Did he say how he wants them made?”

Shen Junxi shook his head—he hadn’t said anything specific.

So, he signed, “Just do as you see fit.”

Then, a little shyly, he added: “He probably means to make clothes for the whole family. However many you can make, make them.”

Yang Shi chuckled.

“That won’t do. This is enough to make several outfits per person. We should start by making some for your wife first, then two sets for you and your father.”

“You should get two sets, too.”

Shen Junxi insisted, picking up a warm-colored fabric and pointing at it: “Use this one.”

“Nonsense! This color is for young girls and boys. Make it for yourself and your wife. I’ll use this one.”

Yang Shi chose a blue floral fabric for herself and a deep navy cloth for her husband. Shen Junxi didn’t argue.

Instead, he signed: “Take it to Tailor Zhang. Your stitching isn’t fine enough.”

If it were just for him, he wouldn’t mind. Whatever his mother made, he would wear without complaint.

But this time, it was also for Song Jingwei. So… it had to be done quickly and properly.

“You brat…”

Yang Shi laughed in exasperation. This was the first time her son had ever criticized her work.

“Mother, give me some copper coins. Wife said he needs them.”

Shen Junxi hadn’t forgotten Song Jingwei’s request. Smiling, he signed his words.

“Alright, wait a moment.”

Hearing that it was her daughter-in-law who asked, Yang Shi didn’t hesitate at all. She went and took out a whole string of coins, not even bothering to ask what they were for.