TIPS – Chapter 34

Later, he gradually accepted it—after all, he had never eaten modern-day gutter oil or melamine, let alone something as harmless as urine.

Half an hour later, by the riverbank, Shen Junxi rolled up his pants and held a net in his hands, focusing on catching small fish in the shallow water. Areas with sand and stones were full of hiding spots for fish, and with enough patience, they could be caught.

Meanwhile, Song Jingwei strolled around, lifting his shoes and the hem of his clothes, occasionally and unintentionally scaring away the fish Shen Junxi was trying to catch. Every time this happened, Shen Junxi would show a helpless yet indulgent smile, not wanting to drive him away.

“Look, does that look like a person?” Song Jingwei suddenly pointed at the water.

“Hm?” Shen Junxi glanced over, eyes widening. He quickly set down his net and gestured, “It’s a person! Might be drowning.” Having grown up by the river, he had encountered such incidents before and remained calm.

Seeing Shen Junxi jump into the water to rescue the person, Song Jingwei quickly searched the area and found a bamboo pole, ready to help pull Shen Junxi back if he got exhausted.

Shen Junxi was touched by his wife’s thoughtfulness. He initially thought Song Jingwei’s strength wouldn’t be much help, but surprisingly, he managed to pull him up quickly and efficiently.

After some struggle, the two of them finally dragged the person onto the sandy shore of the shallow water. Shen Junxi, breathing heavily, looked at the man they had saved and, with surprise, wrote in the sand: “I know this person. He’s my classmate, Pei Hongxuan.”

The drowning man appeared to be around twenty-five or twenty-six years old—about the same age as Shen Junxi. However, his clothing was far more luxurious than Shen Junxi’s simple village attire, each piece of fabric of obvious high quality. Even compared to Song Jingwei, who was supposedly a young master from a wealthy family, this man’s outfit was in a different league.

After writing that, Shen Junxi quickly began performing first aid, pressing on Pei Hongxuan’s chest to expel the river water from his lungs.

“Is that enough?” Song Jingwei was a little anxious. A life was at stake—should he suggest artificial respiration? Shen Junxi could do it.

“Cough, cough, cough…” The man on the ground coughed up water and slowly opened his eyes. Though he was awake, his mind was still muddled, and he had no grasp of the situation.

The two men breathed a sigh of relief—luckily, he wasn’t dead.

“No more fishing, let’s carry him back.” Song Jingwei packed up the net and bucket, stepping through the soft and uneven ground on their way home.

Shen Junxi hoisted the drenched Pei Hongxuan onto his back, stopping and starting as they made their way back to the house, a long and exhausting journey.

“What happened? Who are you carrying?” Yang Shi asked curiously. Her son had gone out dry but returned soaked, carrying an extra person on his back.

“He was rescued from the river. He’s Shen Junxi’s classmate,” Song Jingwei explained, finding a place to set down his things.

“Oh! He almost drowned? Quick, quick, bring him inside!” Yang Shi, hearing that he was Shen Junxi’s classmate and had been saved from the river, hurriedly instructed. In her rush, she nearly took him to Shen Junxi’s room but quickly slapped her forehead, realizing her mistake. “What am I thinking? No, no, put him in the guest hall.”

“….” Shen Junxi carried the man into the guest hall and laid him down on a bamboo couch.

“Alright, alright, I’ll watch over him. You hurry and change your clothes before you catch a cold,” Yang Shi urged.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi glanced at the man on the couch before retreating to his room to change.

Song Jingwei had already washed his hands and feet and was inside. When he saw Shen Junxi come in, he said, “Here’s a set of clothes. Take them and help him change.” These were brightly colored silk garments he had stored away but never liked wearing.

Shen Junxi hesitated briefly before nodding. He changed into his own dry clothes, then picked up the pile of Song Jingwei’s clothes. As he walked out, he secretly sniffed them—there was a faint trace of Song Jingwei’s scent, likely from the fragrance he used to perfume his clothes.

After a moment’s thought, Shen Junxi discreetly hid those clothes away and instead grabbed his own freshly washed clothes from the bamboo drying rack outside to dress Pei Hongxuan.

Not long after, Song Jingwei came to check on things and immediately noticed that Pei Hongxuan was dressed in a familiar outfit—but it was definitely not the one he had given to Shen Junxi earlier. He narrowed his eyes suspiciously at Shen Junxi. “Your clothes?” No wonder they looked familiar; they were the ones Shen Junxi had worn yesterday.

“…Mm.” Shen Junxi averted his gaze and gestured, “Mine fits better.”

Song Jingwei understood what he meant and gave a sarcastic smile. “And how exactly are you and I different in height?” Even if there was a difference, it was only by a centimeter or two.

“….” Shen Junxi looked outside. His mother was slaughtering a chicken—he should probably go help.

“He’s waking up,” Song Jingwei called him back. Where was he running off to?

So Shen Junxi made a quick turn and returned. He stood beside Song Jingwei, watching the man on the couch.

Pei Hongxuan opened his eyes to see the two of them staring at him intently. He groaned, clutching his chest as he adjusted to the pain, then blinked and hesitantly asked, “You are…?”

“He’s Shen Junxi. You two were classmates,” Song Jingwei reminded him.

“…Shen Junxi?” Pei Hongxuan blinked a few more times in recognition before forcing a bitter smile. “So it’s you. Yes, we were indeed classmates.” He sat up and moved his stiff limbs, one of his legs still noticeably impaired. The memories of their school days seemed distant, like a lifetime ago.

“You drowned. We saved you by the river,” Song Jingwei said. “What happened? How did you end up drowning?”

Pei Hongxuan held his forehead and lowered his head. “Thank you for saving me. As for the past, it’s better left unspoken.” Being betrayed by his own brother was something too difficult to put into words.

“Since you don’t want to talk about it, we won’t ask. The fact that you’re alive is what matters. Just try to put the rest behind you,” Song Jingwei said, offering a few words of comfort considering Pei Hongxuan had just survived a life-and-death ordeal.

“Thank you for your kindness, young master,” Pei Hongxuan lifted his head and looked at Shen Junxi, then at Song Jingwei. “To be honest, it’s been years since I last saw Shen Junxi. My impression of him is too vague—if you hadn’t mentioned his name, I wouldn’t have recognized him.”

Song Jingwei curiously turned to Shen Junxi and asked, “Did you look that different as a teenager compared to now?”

Shen Junxi pursed his lips shyly. Back when he was studying, he had been quite thin and delicate, almost resembling a girl. Compared to now, he did look quite different. But he wouldn’t share these details with Song Jingwei. Instead, he gestured to Pei Hongxuan, “If you need any help, just let me know.”

Pei Hongxuan was startled. The last time he had seen Shen Junxi, he could still speak. Now, he was mute?

“Shen… you…” Pei Hongxuan was visibly shocked.

Shen Junxi simply nodded with a calm smile, not showing any embarrassment. He had been mute for five years. The grief had long passed, and he had come to fully accept his condition.

“It seems we are both wanderers in this world, lost and displaced,” Pei Hongxuan murmured after a brief pause. Noticing Shen Junxi and Song Jingwei’s puzzled expressions, he gave a bitter smile, stood up from the bed with a slight wobble, and said, “My left leg is useless now.”

Though his movements weren’t overly exaggerated, the limp was undeniable.

Shen Junxi and Song Jingwei hadn’t expected this. They fell into a brief silence, unsure of how to comfort him.

“It’s alright. I’ve been crippled for over two years. I’ve long accepted it,” Pei Hongxuan said, slowly sitting down again. It wasn’t his injured leg that weighed him down—it was the heartlessness of his own family.

Shen Junxi gestured a few things, his expression filled with comfort.

“He’s telling you not to give up on life. He’s been mute for five years, but he still finds happiness,” Song Jingwei translated before subtly rolling his eyes. This guy could barely afford meat before—where’s the happiness in that?

“Thank you, Shen Junxi. I haven’t given up on life,” Pei Hongxuan exhaled deeply. “Perhaps fate has decided that I should live on. I might as well take this chance to start anew—forget the past and live a peaceful life as a simple farmer.”

Shen Junxi nodded and gestured, “That’s good.” Then he shot a resentful glance at Song Jingwei—his translation had been way too short.

“You two keep chatting. I’m going to help with the chicken,” Song Jingwei said, avoiding his gaze and finding an excuse to leave.

Shen Junxi pursed his lips and grabbed his sleeve, gesturing, “If you leave, how will we communicate?”

Song Jingwei said, “I don’t understand your gestures either. Go get some ink and paper and write things down yourself.” With that, he dusted off his sleeves and walked out, claiming he was going to help slaughter the chicken. Not that he actually knew how—he just wanted to avoid the inevitable small talk and introductions.

Shen Junxi was deeply frustrated. Didn’t he just prove that he could understand me?

“Shen, who is he?” Pei Hongxuan asked. From what he recalled, Shen Junxi was an only child. In fact, their connection as classmates had been quite distant. They weren’t exactly close, but back then, they were the only two scholars in the entire county who passed the imperial exams at the same time. As a result, they had been summoned by the county magistrate and shared a meal together.

Without a way to communicate properly, Shen Junxi grew anxious. He quickly ran back to his room, retrieved ink, paper, and a brush, and finally had a way to write things down.

He wrote: “He’s my wife. His name is Song Jingwei.”

Pei Hongxuan looked surprised and a little envious. “So, you’re already married.”

Even though it was a same-sex marriage, in Pei Hongxuan’s eyes, Song Jingwei was indeed quite impressive. His attire alone suggested that his background was far more affluent than the Shen family’s. The contrast in their family backgrounds puzzled him—how had such a marriage come to be?

“And you? You’re not young anymore either,” Shen Junxi wrote with a teasing smile.

“Not yet. I used to be fully focused on my studies. But now…” Pei Hongxuan’s expression turned slightly bitter. “Who would want to marry me now?” If he still had his former wealth and status, finding a wife wouldn’t have been an issue. But now, he had no intention of ever returning to his family.

Shen Junxi frowned and wrote disapprovingly: “Why wouldn’t someone want to? My family is poor, and I’m mute, yet my wife was willing to marry me.”

Pei Hongxuan read this and commented, “Your wife seems to come from a well-off family.”

He was being direct, but only because he had no attachment to wealth himself—after all, he came from a similarly privileged background as Song Jingwei.

“Mm. His family is the wealthiest in Lihua Town,” Shen Junxi wrote, his emotions a mix of pride and self-doubt, with a hint of something even sweeter.

“That’s quite…” Pei Hongxuan couldn’t understand how this marriage had happened, but since they were already wed, the only thing he could do was offer his blessings.

“As they say, fate brings people together, no matter the distance. You two must be destined for each other.”