Carefree Farmwife: Training the Husband, Raising the Bun - Chapter 105

Wu Shumei’s steps faltered, her mood too unsettled to continue shopping. She summoned her maid, bade farewell to her companions, and returned to the residence.

On the way, the maid who had followed silently all this time noticed her young mistress seemed displeased. She asked, “Miss, is it because of that cousin-in-law of Li Yunyao’s?”

Wu Shumei shook her head. “I’m just… a little worried.”

As for what worried her, she didn’t elaborate further. Leaning against the carriage wall, she closed her eyes to rest.

The maid tried again, “Is Miss upset with Li Yunyao?”

Still with eyes closed, Wu Shumei’s voice lost its earlier softness. “Her? She’s nothing more than a clown leaping about.” She naturally looked down on Li Yunyao. It was only that life was dull, and watching her antics added some amusement.

In the shop, Liu Chuncao couldn’t hold back any longer. “Cuihua, why were you so blunt with that young lady just now?”

“I always speak like that.” Ying Su continued tallying the accounts without lifting her head.

Liu Chuncao’s lips moved as if to speak further, but she held her tongue. She knew Cuihua wasn’t much of a talker normally, yet even so, she had rarely been this merciless with her words. Still, she didn’t press.

In truth, Ying Su didn’t feel she had been discourteous at all. Li Yunyao had been flaunting Miss Wu’s name to intimidate others. Wu Shumei had surely known but allowed her to continue. But once Second Young Master Bai appeared, her tone changed entirely. That posturing irritated Ying Su deeply.

That evening, when closing the shop, Li Dalang grew uneasy. Afraid of a repeat of the last time when the store had been smashed and burned, he insisted on staying overnight to keep watch.

Ying Su put away the account book and told him, “No need to stay. Nothing like before will happen again.”

Since she had regained her senses, she handled matters with ever more decisiveness. Li Dalang and his wife trusted her greatly now. Still, Dalang couldn’t shake his worry, business was thriving, and that was bound to attract jealousy. Caution seemed wise.

Liu Chuncao laughed. “Let him be! He feels safer that way. Let’s go home, just us two.”

She brought the ox cart from the back. Ying Su had only just stepped outside the shop when a dark figure darted from the corner.

Ying Su clenched her fist and stepped back. The figure stopped in front of her, it was the boy who had been staring at her earlier in the day.

He wore a patched coarse-cloth outfit, sleeves too short, the hem visibly mended. His youthful face still bore the freshness of a boy, and his peach-blossom eyes brimmed with grievance as they fixed on her.

Looking at him, Ying Su felt a faint sense of familiarity.

He limped a little as he stepped closer. “You… why haven’t you come home?” He asked at last. His voice was hoarse and dry.

Liu Chuncao, coming out behind, was startled to see someone blocking Ying Su. She hurried over protectively. “Young man, our shop has closed. If you want to buy something, please come back tomorrow.”

But the boy kept staring at Ying Su. Suddenly, his eyes reddened with tears. His lips trembled as he choked out, “Do you know? For five years, our family has nearly gone mad searching for you. Ever since you disappeared, Mother has cried every day, her eyes nearly blind.” 

“Her health was poor to begin with. Father hardly speaks anymore. Eldest Brother, unable to bear it, joined the army in the northwest, swearing to earn merit with his life so he could come back and settle accounts with Liu An!”

Ying Su’s black eyes flickered. She remembered now, this boy seemed to be Shen Cuihua’s younger brother, three years her junior. Yet in recent days, her memories of Shen Cuihua’s life had grown faint. Looking at Shen Changyun’s face, she felt almost no recognition.

Liu Chuncao’s face went pale. Cuihua’s family has come looking? This must be a dream. She pinched herself quietly.

Shen Changyun scrubbed his tears with his sleeve and continued, voice trembling, “Second Sister, do you really not miss home at all? Not Father, not Mother, not Eldest Brother? Do you truly want nothing to do with us?”

Ying Su paused, her expression calm, and answered flatly, “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.” With that, she turned to leave with Liu Chuncao.

Panicked, Shen Changyun hobbled after her, trying to catch her sleeve, but pulled his hand back in fear. Desperate, he stretched out his arm to block her path.

“Second… Second Sister, don’t go. Come home with me! Mother’s health is failing, she may not last… She thinks of you every day…” His lips trembled, his tear-filled eyes stubborn, pleading.

Ying Su’s nose stung suddenly, as if stuffed with cotton, leaving her uncomfortably breathless. She couldn’t define the feeling, it wasn’t truly hers, but rather the lingering emotion of Shen Cuihua, the body’s original owner, or perhaps the inescapable pull of blood ties.

She drew in a deep breath, waiting for the ache to pass, then looked at him with her usual cold composure. “You’ve mistaken me for someone else.”

She brushed past him. His arm remained frozen in the air, blocking nothing.

He stared after her retreating figure, disbelief clouding his face. Clenching his fists, he shouted, “Second Sister, don’t you know me? I’m Changyun!”

Ying Su’s steps faltered slightly. Liu Chuncao’s heart tightened. Could he really be her family? What will we do if she acknowledges them?

But Ying Su said nothing further and walked on.

Shen Changyun stood there, dazed, until at last he wiped his tears with his sleeve and limped off in the opposite direction.

That stumbling, uneven figure was heartrending to watch.

Liu Chuncao exchanged a glance with Li Dalang, who had come out at the commotion. Both let out a long sigh of relief.

On the way home, Liu Chuncao longed to ask Ying Su about what had just happened, but seeing her dark expression, she dared not.

At home, the little bun rushed over as soon as he heard the door. “Mommy, are you tired? I’ve already cooked. Go wash your hands, I’ll bring the food.”

The concern on his little face melted Ying Su’s heart. She pinched his cheek and smiled. “Didn’t I tell you not to cook?”

His face squished adorably under her fingers, and his muffled protest came out garbled, “I… don’t want Mommy to be tired.”

Only then did Ying Su release him, letting her soft, obedient child go. His thoughtfulness only made her feel more like an unworthy mother.

He wasn’t tall enough to reach the stove, so he stood on a stool to cook. Though it was only simple porridge and steamed buns, Ying Su found them especially sweet and delicious.

He had already eaten, and now lay at the table, watching her finish her meal. When she finally did, she realized he had dozed off there. Ying Su cleaned the dishes, then gently carried him to bed.

But the little bun stirred awake, rubbing his eyes. “Mommy, did I fall asleep?”

She stroked his head and spoke softly, “Go back to sleep.”

He blinked and shook his head. “But Mommy hasn’t told me a story yet!”