TIPS – Chapter 33

Song Jingwei closed his eyes—he couldn’t understand the gestures anyway, and he was too lazy to watch the young man signaling.

“Hmm?” Shen Junxi nervously nudged him, trying to figure out whether he was sleeping or feeling unwell.

“I need to rest. Don’t bother me,” Song Jingwei said as he leaned against the chair.

“Mm…” Shen Junxi responded softly, his tone dropping, making him seem like a dejected, neglected little creature. When those big, dark eyes stared at you without blinking, the only impression they gave was one of grievance.

Song Jingwei slept for half an hour and felt his body regaining strength. He opened his eyes and said to Shen Junxi, “Let’s go back.” A sudden sense of crisis struck him—he was afraid of repeating the tragedy of his past life.

“Mm-hmm!” Shen Junxi responded cheerfully. He had been waiting all this time just to hear those words. Once they got back, he would make sure to persuade his wife to rest properly and not overwork himself again.

“You don’t need to carry me. I can walk,” Song Jingwei said when he saw the young man crouching in front of him, ready to give him a piggyback ride.

No way! Shen Junxi shook his head resolutely—he was determined to carry him.

“The road back is pretty long. Are you sure you can carry me the whole way?” Even though Shen Junxi wasn’t weak and Song Jingwei wasn’t particularly heavy, it was still quite a distance.

“Mm!” Shen Junxi nodded firmly, urging him to climb onto his back quickly.

Song Jingwei stood there in silence, locked in a standoff with the young man for a few minutes. He was annoyed by Shen Junxi’s stubbornness but also felt like he might as well just agree and end this pointless tug-of-war.

Finally, he gave in and climbed onto Shen Junxi’s back. The young man’s eyes curved into a satisfied smile—he knew his wife had a soft heart and couldn’t bear to disappoint others.

As he carried Song Jingwei down the road, Shen Junxi prayed in his heart: You were the first to give in. If it happened once, it’ll happen again… again and again… forever, never forget…

When they reached the doorstep, Yang Shi saw her daughter-in-law being carried on her son’s back and turned pale with fright. She exclaimed, “What happened? What happened? What’s wrong?”

Shen Junxi was too busy carrying Song Jingwei to sign an explanation, so Song Jingwei hurriedly reassured her, “It’s nothing, I was just a little dizzy.” By now, he was already feeling fine.

“Oh dear, dizziness? You need to see a doctor.” Yang Shi quickly took off her apron and rushed inside to grab money for a doctor’s visit.

“No need, don’t trouble yourself!” Song Jingwei called out, stopping her. He truly felt better now.

“That won’t do. If you’re unwell, you need to see a doctor,” Yang Shi said worriedly.

“I just didn’t eat enough this morning. Just make me a bowl of noodles, and I’ll be fine,” Song Jingwei said helplessly. There were many reasons he didn’t want to see a doctor—first, he didn’t trust the local doctors, and second, his past life had left him with a deep-seated fear of medical treatment. He instinctively resisted it.

“Really?” Yang Shi blinked doubtfully. Seeing how serious her daughter-in-law looked, she said, “Alright then, I’ll make you a bowl of noodles right away. You and Junxi can both eat.” After all, her son had carried his wife all the way home—he must be hungry too.

Inside the house, Shen Junxi gently put Song Jingwei down. He wasn’t too exhausted, but his forehead was damp with sweat, and his back was slightly wet.

“You brought this on yourself,” Song Jingwei muttered as he picked up Yang Shi’s bamboo fan and vigorously fanned himself. It was June, nearly July—the weather was indeed getting hot.

Shen Junxi chuckled and walked over to sit beside him, just in time to enjoy the cool breeze. The wind from his wife’s fan felt extra refreshing and comfortable.

“Hmph!” Song Jingwei tossed the fan onto the table and took a sip of tea.

Shen Junxi picked up the fan and continued fanning Song Jingwei while reaching out to pour himself some tea. Then, he looked at Song Jingwei with bright, expectant eyes, as if asking, Does the breeze feel nice?

“…” Song Jingwei squinted at him while drinking his tea, saying nothing.

Yang Shi walked in, saw the scene, and immediately scolded her son, “Your wife is dizzy, you shouldn’t be fanning him! What if he catches a chill?”

“…” I can’t? Shen Junxi hesitated, looking guilty. He quickly checked Song Jingwei’s face, worried that he might have turned pale again.

“Don’t worry, I was just hungry,” Song Jingwei said, amused. Living with the Shen family was completely stress-free—they had no concept of restraint or hidden thoughts. If anything happened, it was immediately written all over their faces.

“Oh, my noodles!” Yang Shi suddenly remembered and dashed back to the kitchen—her pot of noodles was still cooking.

Soon, she returned with two steaming bowls of noodles. “This one has two eggs—it’s for Jingwei. This one has one egg—Junxi, you eat this one,” she said matter-of-factly.

Song Jingwei was speechless. He had long passed the age where he cared about eating extra eggs.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi accepted the arrangement without question. He eagerly pushed the bowl in front of Song Jingwei and handed him a pair of chopsticks.

“I can do it myself. You eat,” Song Jingwei said, exasperated, as he took the chopsticks and scooted a bit further away before slowly starting to eat.

Shen Junxi originally wanted to give his own egg to Song Jingwei, but seeing that he wasn’t particularly pleased, he silently gave up on the idea and just focused on eating his own food.

By the time they were almost done eating, Shen Dongming returned from the fields. Yang Shi called out, “Go fetch some water to cool off—I made noodles.”

“Ay, it’s so hot!” Shen Dongming took off his hat, fanning himself as he wiped his sweat. He laughed, “Why are we having noodles for lunch today? We usually eat regular meals—noodles aren’t for lunch.”

Yang Shi came out carrying a bowl of noodles and explained, “Our daughter-in-law felt dizzy, so Xi’er carried him back. He said he was just hungry, so I quickly made them some noodles to fill their stomachs.”

“Dizzy? What happened? Did you call a doctor?” Shen Dongming asked with concern.

“No, Jingwei said he was just hungry and felt fine after eating,” Yang Shi said, still a bit worried. “But I think it would be better to have a doctor check him out.” In her eyes, Song Jingwei wasn’t like the rough-and-tumble country boys who grew up in the village—those kids were tough and rarely got sick. But Song Jingwei was like a delicate and exquisite porcelain vase. She was constantly worried about taking care of him properly, afraid that even the slightest mishap would shatter him.

“Really? I’ll go talk to him,” Shen Dongming said. He washed his face and wiped down his body with cool water from the well, finally feeling a bit refreshed. When he stepped inside, Yang Shi had already placed the noodles on the table, and the other two had finished eating and greeted him.

“We’re full, you go ahead and eat,” Song Jingwei said.

“Daughter-in-law, what’s wrong with your health?” Shen Dongming asked.

“It’s nothing, just hunger and the heat from the sun,” Song Jingwei explained. He had only felt dizzy for a moment, but everyone was overreacting.

“Are you sure you’re fine?” Shen Dongming asked. “How about calling a doctor just in case?”

“No need. I’m already better after eating,” Song Jingwei reassured him.

Yang Shi felt a little heartbroken—it sounded like their family didn’t have enough food to eat. She started wondering if she should improve their meals. Gritting her teeth, she decided to upgrade their daily meals from one meat dish and one vegetable dish to three dishes and a soup. And since eggs were supposed to be nutritious, she wouldn’t sell them anymore. Instead, they’d keep them for the family to eat.

“Let’s slaughter a chicken tonight to help Jingwei recover,” she decided firmly. She couldn’t let her daughter-in-law get thinner after marrying into the family.

“Good idea, it’s been a while since we last had chicken,” Shen Dongming agreed.

This was a gesture of goodwill from the elders, and Song Jingwei didn’t plan to refuse. He said, “Since we’re slaughtering a chicken, why not invite Uncle Chen over for a drink? I have a few jars of wine—we can all share.”

Shen Dongming loved having a drink. Hearing this, he laughed heartily, “That sounds great! Haha! I’ll go find him this afternoon and invite him over.” In the entire village, Chen Xianggui was his closest friend. Being able to treat his brother to a good meal and drinks always made him happy.

“Since we have chicken, why don’t we catch some fish too?” Song Jingwei suggested.

“Good idea. Xi’er, how about catching some fish this afternoon?” There were plenty of small fish by the riverbank. If they caught some and deep-fried them with a little salt, they’d be crispy and delicious—perfect for drinking.

“I’ll go too.” Song Jingwei had been meaning to check out the nearby riverbanks for a while. In ancient times, waterways were the most efficient mode of transport—faster than land travel and with less loss. They were essential for doing business, especially in the grain trade.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea. You’re not feeling well—you should rest more,” Shen Dongming said. Seeing his son shake his head, he realized that Shen Junxi didn’t want his wife to go. And he had a point—if he wasn’t feeling well, it was better to stay home and rest.

“I’m really fine now,” Song Jingwei said helplessly, repeating himself yet again. He realized that dealing with the Shen family had made him a much more patient person.

Maybe his exasperation was too obvious, because Shen Dongming and the others didn’t insist any further. Instead, they relented, “Alright then, but take care of yourself. If you feel even a little unwell, let Xi’er carry you back immediately to see a doctor.” They still hadn’t given up on the idea of calling a doctor.

“I will,” Song Jingwei promised.

After resting for three or four hours, he woke up to find the sun already slanting westward. The golden sunlight cast a warm glow over the quiet village.

By then, Shen Junxi had already gone out and come back once. While Song Jingwei was sleeping, he had gone to cut pig grass so that he wouldn’t have to worry about it later when they went fishing. In his mind, Song Jingwei was just going to have fun—so he might as well take him along.

After putting down the pig grass, he went inside to check if Song Jingwei was awake.

Peeking his head in, he met Song Jingwei’s sleepy gaze. His face instantly lit up with a bright smile, his eyes sparkling with delight.

“What are you doing?” Song Jingwei mumbled groggily. He had just woken up, looking drowsy and out of it.

Shen Junxi silently gestured with one hand before slipping away with a grin. When he returned, he was holding a basin of cool well water. He placed it on the table, wrung a cloth until it was only slightly damp, and then approached Song Jingwei.

Song Jingwei immediately felt the chill on his face, waking him up completely. He stared at Shen Junxi in silence. Did I ask for this kind of service?

“Mm-hmm,” Shen Junxi gestured, urging him to get up quickly. The sun was setting, and soon it would be too dark to go to the river.

“I don’t understand sign language,” Song Jingwei muttered. He got out of bed, put on his shoes, and lazily walked to the washroom to freshen up.

There was a bucket there with a wooden lid—Yang Shi cleaned it out once a week and used the contents as fertilizer for the vegetable garden.

Song Jingwei still remembered the first time he found out about this. His face had turned green. Wait… so the vegetables I eat every day are watered with my own urine?!