Becoming the Cannon Fodder Wife of Crazy and Powerful Official - Chapter 19

Huo Qi returned and stood silently before Shen Qingqi.

Having followed him since childhood, through years of military campaigns, Huo Qi knew he had erred gravely the previous night by disobeying his former general’s orders. Without a word, he dropped to one knee in submission.

The air in the room grew thick with tension. After a prolonged silence, Shen Qingqi finally turned his gaze upon Huo Qi, his dark eyes heavy with unspoken warning. “There won’t be a next time.”

“Understood,” Huo Qi murmured, head bowed.

“Throw that man into the side room.”

“Yes, sir.” Huo Qi carried the unconscious man away.

When he returned, he found Shen Qingqi already seated in the wheelchair, having hauled himself up using the wooden rings mounted on the kang bed.

“Second Master—” Huo Qi began, his voice louder than intended. Shen Qingqi’s sharp glance silenced him immediately. Chastened, Huo Qi lowered his voice. “What does the Second Master intend to do?”

Shen Qingqi offered no reply. He wheeled himself outside to where the little gray donkey stood hitched to the cart. Planting his hands firmly on the wooden plank, he began the laborious process of pulling himself up.

Huo Qi moved to assist.

“No need.” Through gritted teeth, Shen Qingqi inched his way onto the cart using only his upper body strength. The exertion undoubtedly aggravated the pain in his shattered knees, but this was infinitely preferable to being carried like an invalid.

Once settled, he adjusted his legs with rough efficiency, then urged the donkey forward a few steps to retrieve the wheelchair crafted the night before. Wrapping it carefully in black cloth, he secured it on the cart and took up the reins. With a flick of the whip, he set off down the mountain.

As Shen Qingqi guided the donkey cart through the bustling marketplace, he felt like a wandering spirit returning from purgatory to the world of the living. The vibrant sights and sounds overwhelmed him – the jostling crowds, the hawkers’ cries, the sheer vitality of it all. For the first time in what felt like eternity, the constant ache in his knees faded from awareness.

He brought the cart to a stop outside Carpenter Yang’s shop. Peering inside, he observed three men and two women examining a wheelchair while Yang haggled, “Sixty taels is absolutely my final offer!”

Shen Qingqi waited patiently, not interfering. After what felt like the time it takes an incense stick to burn, the customers finally departed after leaving a deposit. Yang grabbed a teapot and drank deeply from its spout.

Noticing his gray donkey outside, Yang stepped out calling, “Madam Xin—” only to freeze when his eyes met Shen Qingqi’s.

“I’m her husband,” Shen Qingqi stated flatly, an odd sensation stirring in his chest at the words.

“Ah! The wheelchair!” Yang recovered quickly, unloading it from the cart. “Wait just a moment – I’ve finished your door.” He soon returned with the wooden door panel. “If you need anything else, just say the word.”

“My thanks,” Shen Qingqi replied.

Wiping sweat from his brow, Yang enthused, “Your wife is truly remarkable!” He gave an emphatic thumbs-up. “So clever, and her craftsmanship is impeccable. You’re a fortunate man.”

“Indeed. More fortunate than I deserve,” Shen Qingqi responded, his gaze dropping briefly to his ruined knees.

Yang wiped his brow. “Could you ask Madam Xin to make three more chairs? I’ll pay the same price.”

“She won’t be doing that anymore.”

Yang blinked. “Why not?”

“I don’t want her involved in this.” Shen Qingqi’s tone left no room for argument. “Cooking and market errands are burden enough.”

Yang stared, baffled. Since when are cooking and shopping considered a ‘burden’ for women?

“But—I’m desperate for help!” Yang protested.

“I’ll do it.” Shen Qingqi met his eyes. “For sixty taels each.”

Yang nearly choked. So that’s his game.

“Come now,” he sputtered, “I only sell them for sixty taels—”

“Then find someone else.” Shen Qingqi patted the donkey’s flank. “I’ll return your cart tomorrow.”

Yang couldn’t find someone else—he trusted no one. Gritting his teeth, he bargained, “Fifty? Let me earn something.”

Shen Qingqi’s lips curled into a cold smile. “My wife is too kind. Had I negotiated that day—” His gaze swept the workshop before locking onto Yang. “—I’d have taken seventy percent.”

Even at 70%, Yang would profit far more than his usual backbreaking work.

Defeated, Yang threw up his hands. “Fine. Sixty it is. Two chairs for now.”

“Agreed.”

“Deliver them tomorrow?”

“Agreed.”

With that, Shen Qingqi flicked the reins and drove away.

Meanwhile, at the Cottage

Xin Yueying slept like the dead—until a muffled cough came from the side room.

She wiped drool from her chin, rolled over, and mumbled, “Huo Qi… that guy’s awake.”

Another cough.

Bleary-eyed, she sat up in the dark. “Huo Qi?!”

Silence.

Grumbling, she stumbled to the side room, where the unconscious man now sat upright, propped against the wall.

Striking a flint, she lit a lamp—