TIPS – Chapter 37

“Mm.” Song Jingwei smiled and went to fetch water for washing up.

On the other side, Shen Junxi had already dressed and hurried over, grinning as he snatched the rope to help draw water.

“…” Song Jingwei, feeling helpless, simply let go of the rope and allowed him to do it.

Watching them, Yang Shi smiled slightly. They truly looked like a married couple—so well-matched.

“You two keep washing up, I’ll go make breakfast.”

Not long after, Pei Hongxuan walked out of the house and greeted them with a smile. “Good morning, everyone.”

Song Jingwei and Shen Junxi were busy washing up and had no time to respond, so they just acknowledged him with a glance. Seeing this, Pei Hongxuan rolled up his sleeves and joined them in their morning routine.

“Junxi, let’s have a good talk this morning,” Pei Hongxuan said after washing up, looking hopeful.

“Mm.” Shen Junxi nodded with interest—he had been thinking the same thing.

“You two talk, I’ll head back to my room,” Song Jingwei said. He was about to leave but felt it would be rude to just walk away without a word.

“Mm-hmm.” Shen Junxi looked at him with eager eyes, as if sending him off with his gaze.

Pei Hongxuan chuckled. “Your wife is really cold.” Ever since he had woken up, he hadn’t seen Song Jingwei smile even once. Pei Hongxuan wasn’t foolish—he had observed them last night and sensed something unusual about their marriage. He suspected that Song Jingwei hadn’t married into the Shen family willingly.

“…” Shen Junxi pursed his lips and gestured that he was going inside to get paper and a brush, signaling Pei Hongxuan to wait in the living room.

“Alright.” Pei Hongxuan limped toward the living room.

Shen Junxi quickly retrieved paper and a brush, then wrote: “Don’t speak ill of my wife. He is very good.” He pushed the paper toward Pei Hongxuan, who was caught between laughter and exasperation. “I wasn’t badmouthing him. I was just stating a fact.” Being cold wasn’t necessarily a bad thing—it was just a personality trait.

“No, you don’t understand.” Shen Junxi frowned as he wrote. Even his parents knew that Song Jingwei was cold on the outside but warm on the inside. Clearly, Pei Hongxuan wasn’t good at judging people.

“Alright, alright, I won’t say anything about him anymore, okay?” Pei Hongxuan sighed in resignation. He had only made a casual comment, yet Shen Junxi wouldn’t let it go. But from this, it was clear how deeply Shen Junxi cared for his spouse.

Feeling a bit worried, Pei Hongxuan asked hesitantly, “But… did he really marry you of his own will?” He knew this wasn’t the best thing to ask, but he couldn’t help but be concerned. Shen Junxi was so deeply in love—what if one day that rich young master just up and left? What would happen to him then?

“…” Shen Junxi gripped the brush tightly but didn’t put it to the paper. He wanted to write with confidence that Song Jingwei had married him willingly. But the hesitation in his heart held him back. Wasn’t he just lying to himself, afraid to face the truth?

“Sigh.” Seeing this, Pei Hongxuan patted Shen Junxi on the shoulder. “If we have them, we are lucky. If we lose them, it’s fate. You and I have both been through hardships—we should learn to let things take their course.”

“I refuse. I don’t want to leave it to fate. I want him.” Shen Junxi stubbornly wrote on the paper.

Pei Hongxuan stared at the words in silence, unable to find a response.

They sat in quiet contemplation until Yang Shi’s voice broke the stillness. “Xi’er, go check if your father is awake yet.” She was worried he might still be sleeping off last night’s drinks.

Shen Junxi regained his gentle smile, nodded to Pei Hongxuan, and got up to wake his father, Shen Dongming, for breakfast. On his way back, he stopped by his own room, where Song Jingwei was sitting at a small desk, engrossed in a book.

“…” Shen Junxi slowly approached from behind and suddenly patted Song Jingwei’s shoulder.

Song Jingwei was deeply absorbed in a collection of supernatural tales, and the sudden touch startled him. There was no need to guess who the culprit was. He turned around with an annoyed expression, his cold eyes shooting a sharp glare at Shen Junxi.

“Hmm?” Shen Junxi had been grinning just a moment ago, but now he feigned innocence, as if he hadn’t just startled him on purpose.

“There won’t be a next time,” Song Jingwei said indifferently. He wasn’t angry or upset—just distant.

Shen Junxi picked up another set of paper and a brush from the table and wrote: “Don’t treat me like this. It makes me sad.”

He pushed the paper toward Song Jingwei, who glanced at it briefly before responding coldly, “There’s no way I’ll ever be clingy with you. You’d be better off finding a gentle girl to marry instead.”

Without hesitation, Shen Junxi wrote: “I married you. I won’t marry anyone else.”

“I will—mmph—” Song Jingwei started to say, “I will leave one day, and then you will still have to find someone else.” But before he could finish, Shen Junxi boldly reached out and covered his mouth, stopping him from speaking.

In the brief struggle, their faces were only millimeters apart. Shen Junxi caught a familiar scent—the same one he smelled every night when they slept in the same bed. He suddenly remembered that, last night, when he was feverish and delirious, he had been just as close to this scent.

“Shen Junxi!” Song Jingwei was no longer wearing his usual cold expression—he was now furious, glaring fiercely as if to make it clear that he was not to be trifled with.

Shen Junxi let out a low chuckle, then fearfully released his grip on him. Under Song Jingwei’s glare, he quickly scribbled, “I’m going out to check if Father is up yet.” God knows—he had just come from Shen Dongming’s room.

“Hmph…” Song Jingwei sat back down helplessly. After a moment, he realized it was childish to bicker with Shen Junxi, so he got up and went out as well.

During breakfast, Yang Shi reminded them, “Junxi, you and Hongxuan should stay home and rest today. In a couple of days, Hongxuan will go with your Uncle Shen to the private school to meet his third uncle.”

Shen Dongming nodded in agreement. “Your mother told me you had a fever last night. Though you have a strong constitution and recover quickly, you still shouldn’t take it lightly.” That morning, Yang Shi had already filled him in, and first and foremost, he wanted to thank his daughter-in-law. “Jingwei, you worked hard last night. We’re all family, so I won’t be polite about it—I just want you and Junxi to be well together. That’s more important than anything else.”

The three younger ones responded softly.

Shen Junxi nudged the person beside him and found that he still had a sour look on his face, making him feel a little guilty.

“You all take your time eating. I’m full,” Song Jingwei said, putting down his bowl and chopsticks. After bidding farewell to everyone, he left the table and returned to his room.

“Is Jingwei still going to the construction site today?” Yang Shi asked. If he was, she would have to persuade him otherwise—everyone had been feeling unwell lately, and it wouldn’t do for him to go out and overwork himself.

“I’m not going,” Song Jingwei replied. It wasn’t like he was obsessed with work. In this lifetime, he wanted to take things easy.

“That’s good, haha. Go back and rest, then—you must be exhausted from last night,” Yang Shi said with a smile.

He was indeed tired. Song Jingwei nodded and slowly walked back to his room.

At the dining table, Shen Junxi absentmindedly poked at the bottom of his bowl with his chopsticks. With Song Jingwei gone, he felt a little distracted.

Under the table, Pei Hongxuan kicked him lightly and whispered with a wink, “What’s wrong? Did you two have a fight?”

Shen Junxi shook his head. …How could it count as a fight?

After breakfast, Shen Dongming went to check on the tea fields, while Yang Shi carried fertilizer to water the vegetable garden. Shen Junxi and Pei Hongxuan stayed in the house, chatting and writing little notes to each other.

Taking advantage of the fact that no one was paying attention, Song Jingwei quietly slipped out through the courtyard gate. The Hei Zi circled around his feet, but he swiftly handed it a meaty bone and patted its head, whispering, “Don’t bark, be a good guard dog.”

The puppy affectionately licked his fingers before lowering its head to gnaw on the bone.

Song Jingwei strode off quickly, heading toward Doctor Hu’s house based on his memory from the previous night.

When Hu Langzhong saw him again, he was quite surprised. He widened his eyes and grumbled, “What are you doing back here? Don’t tell me that whoever-it-is from your house isn’t better yet? That’s impossible! My medicine works like a charm!”

“I’m not here for treatment,” Song Jingwei said, taking out a silver ingot and tossing it to him. “I need you to check my pulse—but only I can know the results.”

A whole ingot of silver! Even if Hu Langzhong treated ten or eight fever patients, he still wouldn’t earn that much. He quickly stuffed it into his pocket and assured, “Sure, sure. I, Hu Chengchun, am tight-lipped like a sealed jar. I guarantee your secret’s safe with me.”

“Then let’s begin.” Song Jingwei sat down at the examination table, rolled up his sleeve, and placed his wrist on the fabric-covered cushion.

Hu Chengchun sat across from him, placing his fingers on his pulse with a serious expression. At first, he was just curious about why this person wanted to keep his pulse reading a secret. But the moment he felt the smooth pulse, he understood.

“Well?” Song Jingwei lifted his brow and asked as the physician withdrew his fingers.

“It’s a slippery pulse,” Hu Chengchun stated matter-of-factly.

“What does that mean?” Song Jingwei wasn’t too familiar with ancient medical terms.

“A slippery pulse is a slippery pulse,” Hu Chengchun said, stroking his small mustache. “It means—you’re pregnant. Just two days shy of three months along.”

For a brief moment, Song Jingwei was completely frozen. His entire body locked up—all except for his heartbeat. Then, slowly, he accepted the reality, letting out a long breath. He had suspected as much before, but it had only been his own speculation. Now that Hu Chengchun had confirmed it, he finally had a definite answer.

“What, not happy about having a kid?” Hu Chengchun was straightforward and hadn’t even considered any deeper implications. He simply assumed Song Jingwei was having some kind of family quarrel.

“No, just surprised.” One time was all it took. Whose fault was that?

“Heh, what’s so surprising? Having a child is a good thing! But why are you hiding it? Your family would be thrilled—why keep it a secret?” Hu Chengchun asked, intrigued. Apart from money and medicine, he rarely found anything else interesting.

“It’s not the right time yet. I’ll think about it.” Song Jingwei answered vaguely before standing up to leave.

“Hey, wait, don’t go! I’ve got the best prenatal medicine—why not buy some before you leave?” Hu Chengchun called after him.

“With that big mouth of yours, you call yourself tight-lipped?” Song Jingwei’s temples throbbed. He was beginning to think he had made a foolish decision trusting Hu Chengchun’s discretion.