Chapter 15: Starstruck!

Convinced now that Yu An had been cheated, Liu Huaixu didn’t overthink it—she simply took Yu An’s hand and marched her out the door.

Near year’s end, pork had climbed to half a string of cash the jin, and Liu Huaixu had handed Yu An the exact right sum. And yet the meat was short by a good two taels at least.

With the household in its current state—how could she not be furious?

Yu An, yanked along, hadn’t caught up with events at first. Her whole attention had been commandeered by the soft, cool feel of that hand, which was deeply pleasant. Only once she’d been dragged clean out of the house did the situation reassemble itself in her head.

Fine. She’d admit it: whenever Liu Huaixu held her hand, her thoughts wandered somewhere extremely unhelpful. But the situation at hand was not that.

“The fire’s still lit!” One could not abandon the homestead for pork!

At that, Liu Huaixu let go at once, doubled back to smother the stove, came out again, and said to Yu An—who was by now staring at her in a most unguarded way—”Well? Come on.”

“Huh?? Oh—oh.” Yu An surfaced and fell in behind her.

Thank every god, her mind supplied—that Liu Huaixu’s head is full of nothing but meat right now. Otherwise that look I just gave her would’ve earned me a lecture.

It was only as the shop drew near that Yu An actually began thinking about the pork.

One: she’d been blinded by a pretty face and had nearly forgotten how poor they were. Getting cheated like this wasn’t a scam—it was pouring salt on a family that had nothing left to salt.

Liu Huaixu had been walking ahead. The angrier Yu An got, the faster her feet moved—until she’d actually overtaken her.

The sudden rush of it left Liu Huaixu blinking.

She paused one beat. Then followed.

They reached Butcher Li’s stall just as he was packing up. He’d seen Yu An coming and prepared a nice greeting—and then, mid-breath, caught sight of who walked behind her.

His fleecing of Yu An had come home to roost. Panic, one heartbeat—then quick recovery. The whole of Zeyuan Village knew Yu An: spendthrift, libertine. A woman like that hiding a private stash of coin? Perfectly believable.

Yu An knew nothing of this rapid dramaturgy. She knew only that the man had shorted her. She marched up, bristling: “Hey! The meat you just sold me—the weight’s off!”

“Off how? Full weight, full measure, every time.” Butcher Li lied without a flicker of strain, eyes sliding past her shoulder to Liu Huaixu.

“You—!” The sheer audacity of the man—cheating people with his chest out—had Yu An’s blood up. She was drawing breath to say more when she registered where his eyes kept going. He flashed an oily grin past her: “Ah—Madam Liu! Welcome!”

Madam Liu. MADAM LIU. Since when is that a name for the likes of you?

Fuming, Yu An spun, plucked the parcel out of Liu Huaixu’s hands, and slapped it down in front of Butcher Li. “Dare to weigh it again? Right now?”

He didn’t take the bait. His eyes stayed glued to Liu Huaixu.

Only when she stepped forward did he deploy the grin again. “Madam Liu buys her meat from me regular—she’ll tell you. Full weight, full measure, every single time.”

Liu Huaixu had watched the entire exchange. She didn’t trust Yu An. She trusted Butcher Li far less.

Every visit she’d ever paid, the man had managed some remark—open or slanted, always with that smile—and every visit it had made her skin crawl.

“Butcher Li. Has the price of meat gone up?”

“Up a fair bit—half a string the jin now.” His counterstroke was already loaded. He fired it: “Yu An brought forty wen just now. If the meat I sold her ran two taels shy—what of it?”

Strike first. Shrink the sum. Let Liu Huaixu’s suspicion land on Yu An.

“That’s a lie! What I brought was exactly—half a string of cash!” Still shaky on the local money, Yu An needed a beat to find the figure.

And the stumble handed him the round.

“There, Madam Liu—see it? Hidden savings. She swears she brought half a string. Where’d the rest go, eh? Gifts for some Omega, maybe.”

He chuckled at his own wit, then twisted the knife: “No wonder she could afford a silver bracelet for Widow Cui. All that tucked-away money! Madam Liu, you really ought to keep your Qianjun on a tighter leash.”

At the mention of Widow Cui, Liu Huaixu’s face didn’t move an inch.

Yu An’s nearly left hers.

“Don’t you slander me! I brought exactly half a string, and if you keep spouting filth, I’ll—”

“All these good people watching. Go on, then. What will you do to me?”

The street was thinning toward the meal hour, but his raised voice did its work—heads turned, and a crowd began to gather.

And seeing Liu Huaixu still silent, he read it as belief. His tone turned unctuous, avuncular—and the address changed: “Sister Liu. A wife like this, and you’re still shielding her? What is there left to believe?”

…Sister Liu?

Madam Liu had already been unbearable. Sister Liu made her fingers itch.

Yu An was no scholar of forms of address, but even she knew: calling someone else’s wife “sister” in ancient times was not familiarity. It was filth.

And he’d done it with the crowd still swelling. Fine—his hide was Alpha-thick. But did Liu Huaixu not have a name to protect?

Blind with rage, she never saw Liu Huaixu’s face going colder and colder with each syllable. She only knew she was about to lose her mind.

She jabbed a finger at him. “Shorting people on your scales is one thing—how are you this shameless?!”

Being lectured on shamelessness by the village’s single most shameless person short-circuited Butcher Li completely. He stammered, “Wh… what?”

“You short the scales! You’re shameless! Scum!” Yu An had always been sweet-tempered; at the very summit of fury she could only loop the same three phrases. But loop them she did, loud, and the crowd kept thickening.

Everyone heard shorting the scales. For a butcher’s trade, there was no wound deeper. His eyes went red with panic and he reached for her—

His hand never landed. Yu An caught the wrist, twisted, and pinned it behind his back.

“Aiyo—ow, ow, ow—”

Alpha against Alpha, she didn’t merely hold her own—she had the better of it. His two yelps earned him a further twist of torque, and two more howls.

Yu An had never picked a fight in her life. But when someone else’s hand came up first, her own never went soft.

She didn’t start trouble. She also didn’t get bullied.

The moment Butcher Li had reached, she’d already been ready.

“Let go.”

The voice came from behind her. Yu An released him, unwilling, and turned a vaguely wounded look on Liu Huaixu.

Liu Huaixu met her eyes—gave back nothing.

Yes, Yu An had been wronged this time. But the matter of Widow Cui’s silver bracelet remained wide open, and Liu Huaixu could not manufacture a warm face over an open case.

“Butcher Li. I’ve bought from your stall plenty, and it’s always been full weight, full measure.”

Butcher Li, grimacing, cradled his arm and bobbed his head. “Yes, yes—Madam Liu speaks true. So—”

“So. How did you know the meat you sold Yu An was two taels shy?”

“…” Butcher Li blinked. His mouth opened; nothing arrived. He cast back through the whole conversation and found the hole gaping: he had never once said two taels.

By now, the crowd had done the same arithmetic.

There were other butchers. Most people had given Butcher Li their custom out of pity—a man raising small children alone. And look at him now. The pointing fingers multiplied by the moment, and the moment one voice in the crowd swore off his meat forever, a chorus rose behind it.

Butcher Li’s face went gray. He opened his mouth to plead his case, and Liu Huaixu cut across him, cool as a blade: “Today you cheat my Qianjun because she doesn’t know the price of meat. Tomorrow—who will you cheat?”

“That’s right, that’s right!”

“Madam Liu’s right—this Butcher Li…”

The crowd rolled on without her. Yu An stood at the back, listening, thinking: every sentence out of Liu Huaixu’s mouth landed like a hammer. Nothing like her, whose fists always arrived one step ahead of her brain.

And the way Yu An looked at Liu Huaixu had gone bright, and glittering—and somewhere under her ribs, honest admiration took root.