One moment of glory calling her “wifey”—and tragedy befell Yu An.
After that one fury-suppressed “get out,” Liu Huaixu had set down her bowl and chopsticks, gone straight to her room, and had not emerged since.
She hadn’t even made breakfast.
Yu An hadn’t eaten her fill the night before, and waking to an empty stove made the regret bite deeper.
Why did I have to chase that one cheap thrill?
She excavated two steamed buns from somewhere, gnawed down a few bites, chased it all with a big bowl of cold water, and headed out.
The rice was still waiting in the fields. It all had to come in today—and the firewood still needed chopping tonight.
And if she worked a full day and there was still no dinner waiting…
Yu An resolved to deliver a formal, sincere apology to Liu Huaixu. She hadn’t meant anything by it yesterday. Truly.
She arrived at the fields wearing a face of open mourning. On an empty stomach even her strength had deserted her, and she was far slower than yesterday.
Yesterday, two round trips before mid-morning. Today, two trips ate up the whole road to afternoon.
The first time she’d come back, it was still early, and Liu Huaixu not appearing meant nothing.
The second time, Liu Huaixu still hadn’t appeared.
Fine—maybe she didn’t want to feed her. But wasn’t Liu Huaixu hungry herself?
…Right. Probably not.
Her appetite was a bird’s. Her labors, a kitten’s.
Then… doesn’t she get lonely, shut in there?
Yu An turned it over every which way and finally decided: knock. She walked to Liu Huaixu’s door, pumped herself full of courage, and then… rapped it, very gently.
Nothing.
Was her knock too soft?
A little harder. Still nothing.
Now Yu An’s patience frayed.
“Are—are you hungry? I could make something, we could eat together.”
She hadn’t dared ask whether Liu Huaixu would cook—the woman was furious; obviously she wouldn’t cook for her…
Measured against everything the original owner had done, Liu Huaixu’s attitude was more than fair. But Yu An still chafed—she was only the fall guy, after all. Apologizing for the original owner’s sins was a bitter draft to swallow. But apologizing for…
Her own rude mouth yesterday? That, Yu An could do with a light heart.
She didn’t knock again. She cleared her throat instead. “About yesterday—I’m sorry. That joke wasn’t funny. If you say I can’t call you anything, I won’t call you anything.”
“I won’t call you anything!”
It was just the two of them in this house—what was a form of address even for? She could simply talk.
Out in public, though… when she’d called her “wife,” Liu Huaixu hadn’t objected. She understood: face was for outsiders.
She finished speaking, waited—and sure enough, rustling sounds followed. Liu Huaixu, probably, getting dressed…
Wait. She can’t still be in bed?
Yu An peeked outward. The sun stood at full climb. She herself had been up half the day.
The door creaked open—Liu Huaixu—revealing Yu An doubled over, peering in.
The sound startled her; Yu An’s head whipped up, and suddenly they were very, very close.
Close enough for breath to land on faces.
Yu An’s eyes blinked fast. With Liu Huaixu a hand-span away, her heart clenched hard, and heat crawled up her cheeks.
This was far too close.
And Yu An stood the better part of a head taller. One small dip of her chin and she was looking straight into Liu Huaixu’s lovely eyes—and breathing in that faint mint.
Lovely, and cold.
Yu An’s nerves sang. Liu Huaixu’s whole body had gone rigid.
She had never imagined Yu An would turn and be this close. For one blank instant she simply stood there—then she shoved Yu An away with both hands, gripped the doorframe, and fixed her with a wary glare, teeth at her lip.
The shove returned Yu An to her senses, and she blurted, “I—I really didn’t mean to! I didn’t know you’d open the door just then!”
Liu Huaixu’s eyes flicked over her, cold as frost: caught red-handed, and still wriggling.
But a few days of living beside her had taught Yu An to read her, and she caught the meaning at once. She scrambled back two steps, shaking her head hard. “I really didn’t mean it! Believe me!”
Believe her?
On what grounds?
The corner of Liu Huaixu’s mouth pulled into something sardonic, and Yu An, seeing it, knew she’d said the wrong thing.
What, exactly, did she have left that Liu Huaixu could believe?
Days ago, she’d still carried her own little store of grievance and indignation. But since yesterday—since seeing Liu Huaixu bullied—grievance had nowhere left to stand.
There was no going back to her old world. From here on, she was the original owner’s name and skin.
Those sins, even uncommitted by her hand, were hers to own now.
So facing that mockery, she no longer felt wronged. She simply had no idea what to do.
Speak more, and perhaps err more.
Yu An looked down and picked at her own fingers, and offered nothing further.
A long while passed. Perhaps Liu Huaixu had steadied herself; she said, flat: “Understood.”
And shut the door.
Yu An eyed the closed door and curled her lip.
“Understood,” she says…
She drifted away from Liu Huaixu’s door and made her peace with the buns.
That morning they’d tasted so vile she’d managed only half. One and a half remained. She washed them down with cold water, and went back out to the rice.
Two more trips, and it would all be in.
She drove herself hard, far faster than the morning, and got everything in before full dark. Staggering up to the courtyard gate, she saw smoke rising from the chimney—
Her heart leapt. Her steps quickened.
Into the yard; the cart abandoned where it stood; straight for the house.
She came in at a run, and the noise startled Liu Huaixu mid-ladle; she turned, frowning.
“Ah—um—” Yu An scratched her head, mortified to have frightened her, but before any explanation could be assembled, Liu Huaixu had already turned back to her work.
The lift in her chest dropped straight through the floor. Yu An paced a tight little circle, torn between saying something and retreating to the yard.
Liu Huaixu, irked by the hovering, set the rice in the pot and watched her, flat-eyed.
That stopped Yu An cold—spine straight, head bowed.
“About yesterday…” she said, small.
“All the rice in?”
“All in.”
“Then go buy some meat. The money’s on—” Liu Huaixu tipped her chin toward the windowsill. Yu An followed the gesture, nodded, and went meekly for the money—but when she turned back to speak, Liu Huaixu was already busy again.
She’d meant to apologize again, properly. The conversation kept sliding out from under her…
“About yesterday—I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have run my mouth.”
Liu Huaixu’s hands stilled. She didn’t turn. “Hurry and buy the meat. Butcher Li will be packing up soon.”
Yu An blinked, then bobbed. “Oh! Right—going now!” And she shot out the door like a startled rabbit.
Only then did Liu Huaixu turn and watch the running figure—and a small smile surfaced.
Then turned faintly bitter.
If only she could stay like this. Just like this, forever.
At noon, when Yu An had come back, Liu Huaixu had braced for the mask to slip—for another scene. Instead the girl had asked if she was hungry.
And when met with cold, she’d said nothing at all. Finished her buns and left.
Liu Huaixu had heard her go. Heard her head back out to the fields.
Play-acting or no—at least the work was real, and she’d seen every hour of it. Without Yu An, the hauling would have taken half a month. With her, five or six days.
So. A little meat for her to eat. It was nothing.
Once the meal was ready, Liu Huaixu went and dug out what remained of the woodshed’s firewood, intending to light a fire in Yu An’s room and set some water heating—a hot bath for her, tonight.
The fire had just caught when Yu An came bounding back.
“I’m back with the meat!” Yu An bellowed from the gate, the parcel held aloft. She was genuinely, stupidly happy. Meat again, at last!
One flat look from Liu Huaixu, and Yu An went docile as a lamb. Her steps slowed to a crawl through the doorway, and she presented the parcel with both hands: “Bought it.”
Liu Huaixu glanced at it—was about to say set it by the stove—and stopped. Something was wrong. She took the parcel from Yu An’s hands and weighed it. “Did you pocket some of the money?”
“Hm? No?” Yu An looked at the meat, then at Liu Huaixu, shaking her head and waving her hands to prove her innocence. Judging by the look on Liu Huaixu’s face, it had something to do with the meat. She asked, small: “Is it short? Did I get cheated?”
Liu Huaixu held the parcel and thought: entirely possible. “What did you say, when you bought it?”
“I said…”
She stalled. Scratched her head. Under Liu Huaixu’s pressing stare, it came out: “I said… ‘give me this much money’s worth.'”
Then Liu Huaixu knew.
She’d been fleeced.
She seized Yu An’s hand. “Come with me.”
