Traveling Through Those Years Of Farming (Quick Transmigration) - Volume 4 Chapter 20

“Father, why aren’t you in the fields?” Fu Yuexia forced an embarrassed smile toward her father. “Right, you must have come back after hearing my grandma arrived.”

She could only hope—pray—that her father hadn’t heard anything he shouldn’t have heard.

“Is Father home already?” The people inside finally reacted. Ma Meifang opened the door with a smile, while Liu Wangshi, now elderly and no longer steady on her feet, was helped forward by her eldest daughter-in-law.

Fu Dayan lifted his eyelids and glanced inside the room. 

His eldest son, Fu Shichun, sat at the edge of the kang, head lowered, eyes avoiding him. Even knowing his father was standing at the door, he said nothing.

Two small bumps rose under the bedding—the twins. Children slept deeply, and once they fell asleep, even thunder couldn’t wake them. Just now, the adults had been speaking so loudly, but the pair had slept through it. 

Now that the room was quiet, they naturally heard nothing.

Fu Dayan only looked at them for a moment before pulling his gaze away and turning it back to his silent son.

He was a typical man of this era. To him, criticism from his late wife’s mother and from his daughter-in-law was nothing compared to even a hint of rejection from his own children.

Just now, when he did not hear his eldest son speak, a faint hope still flickered in his heart. Maybe—maybe his son didn’t actually agree with what was said. Maybe, just maybe, he didn’t truly believe those accusations.

But seeing his son’s guilt-ridden avoidance now, that small bit of warmth inside Fu Dayan instantly went cold.

“Dayan, when did you arrive?” Liu Wangshi tugged at the corner of her mouth. 

Feeling guilty, she became even more forceful, as if the louder her voice, the stronger her stance, the more she looked like she had done nothing wrong. “I came today to stand up for Shichun. If this old woman didn’t come, I’m afraid your biased heart would let that step-wife of yours bully my daughter’s children to death.”

She felt a jolt of panic inside, but since things had reached this point, denying it outright would put her at a disadvantage. Better to be upright, appeal to emotion and reason, and try to convince Fu Dayan that he had wronged his eldest son.

“Biased? Me?” Fu Dayan still stared straight at Fu Shichun. His gaze did not shift to the old woman.

“That’s right!” Now fully aware that something was off with her son-in-law, Liu Wangshi still forced herself to press on. “When Lan-zi was alive, what did you swear to her? You said you would treat Shichun and Yuexia well, that you would never allow the woman you married later to bully them. Tell me—did you keep your word?”

Among all things, she truly felt she was right about this. She loved her children deeply, especially her youngest daughter, who died young. Every time she thought of it, her eyes reddened. Because of that unresolved grief, her two grandchildren became her heart’s treasure.

While Fu Dayan remained widowed, she frequently came to help take care of the household. After he remarried, afraid the stepmother might bully the children, she had her sons bring the two back to her house regularly.

In her belief, no stepmother was ever good. And once the stepmother bore a child of her own, even the father would become a “stepfather.”

So from early on, she taught the children not to get close to Ge Shiyan, warned them repeatedly about “stepmother’s sweetness hiding knives,” and pushed them to keep watch over the household property—especially Shichun, since he was the eldest son and should inherit most of the family estate.

Under her constant instigation, the children’s hostility toward Ge Shiyan grew stronger. After Ge Shiyan bore Fu Dayan’s late-in-life son, seeing their father’s affection overflow toward the little boy, Shichun and Yuexia regarded the mother and son as thorns in their eyes.

Her so-called “kindness” had ruined the entire family.

But even now, Liu Wangshi did not think she was wrong. Look—hadn’t the stepmother revealed her true colors? She and her child got the greater share of the family property. That proved all stepmothers were no good. Even fathers couldn’t be trusted once they remarried.

“I regret it… that back then, because of your crying words, I let my eldest brother-in-law take those two children away so often.”

Only now did Fu Dayan finally understand the source of everything.

He regretted it. He regretted letting his former mother-in-law take the children so frequently because he thought he alone wouldn’t care for them properly. He regretted allowing her to intervene after he remarried—before his wife and children had even built a bond.

Thinking back now, their hostility toward Ge Shiyan had nothing to do with her behavior, but everything to do with someone they trusted whispering poison into their ears every day.

“Dayan, what do you mean by that? Are you saying I wasn’t good to Shichun and Yuexia?” Her eyes widened. She could tolerate any accusation—but not this one. “When Lan-zi died, you were still young. I didn’t stop you from remarrying, but you cannot forget the old because of the new. Have you forgotten how much hardship Lan-zi suffered for your Fu family? If she hadn’t damaged her health bearing your children, how could she have died so young?”

She wiped her tears. Thinking of her daughter’s death, and of her grandchildren suffering, her grief overflowed.

“I never forgot.” He knew there was no point trying to change an old woman’s mind. But he still needed to speak his grievance aloud.

“Girl, have you ever been wronged?” He turned to his daughter. “Of course you have. You and your brother think I mistreated you. Then answer me— Which girl in this village didn’t work at seven or eight years old? Which girl waited until twelve to wash her own clothes for the first time? Which girl, after marrying, had her maternal family give her extra dowry instead of deducting from her bride price?”

His questions left Fu Yuexia speechless.

Compared to the girls in the village, she had indeed lived comfortably. But she still felt wronged—she had no mother; shouldn’t she be treated better?

“When I wanted to add silver to your dowry chest, your stepmother never once told me to stop.” He was, of course, referring to Ge Shiyan.

“She’s a stepmother—what right does she have to tell you not to give me money?” Shame and anger mixed on Fu Yuexia’s face.

Fu Dayan laughed—laughed from disappointment.

“And you, eldest son—don’t pretend you didn’t hear. I know exactly what’s in your heart.” He turned to Fu Shichun. “You are my son. I love you and the youngest equally. If I favored anyone, it was you. Otherwise, back then, when your two children nearly caused Baobao’s death, would I have quarreled with my wife for the sake of protecting them?”

He wasn’t foolish. He knew exactly what he had done. He simply chose his blood relatives over others.

“But you—” He looked at his son, heart sinking. “You are the eldest. The major share of the family estate should have gone to you. But ask yourself: if not for your actions, what right would your stepmother have had to take your portion? Was it my so-called bias? Her supposed cruelty? No. It was your own greed. You handed the family estate into her hands.”

If none of those incidents had happened, he would never have divided the household early.

He had always planned—after the youngest son married—to divide the family: sixty percent to the eldest, forty percent to the youngest. That was the village custom. He would have ignored whatever private money his wife tucked away.

By age and by timing, the eldest son would naturally gain more.

But the real person disadvantaged was the youngest, who would likely bear the burden of supporting their parents in old age.

“If anyone should accuse me of favoritism, it should be the youngest—not you two.” He steadied his voice. “Now I ask one question: did your younger brother’s fall into the water have anything to do with you?”

Silence fell like a stone. Neither Fu Shichun nor Fu Yuexia spoke. Whether out of guilt or defiance, he could not tell.

Fu Dayan’s back bowed further. 

After a long breath of quiet with no answer.

“Father, what do you mean? Do you think Shichun and I would be heartless enough to harm our own brother?” Ma Meifang shrieked like a startled dog.

Fu Shichun and Fu Yuexia froze for a moment, then quickly followed her lead—both staring at him with shock and grievance.

“Good. Very good.” Fu Dayan breathed in sharply. Even the air entering his lungs felt icy.

From beginning to end, the eldest son hadn’t reacted to anything he said—until he mentioned the drowning. His expression changed too quickly.

How he wished his fears were wrong.

“Father, you only accuse Shichun and me. But have you ever wondered what kind of person your pillow-side wife is? That ‘ancestor’s box’ she claimed to dig up was actually the private savings we built over the years—fifty taels! But she told you there were only seven and pocketed the rest!” Ma Meifang exaggerated. The box had contained one gold-plated hairpin and a little more than twenty taels.

“You’re still slinging filth at her? The household is already divided—do you think I’ll take back what I gave them?”

This time, Ma Meifang’s cleverness backfired. If she had given a truthful number, Fu Dayan might still have believed it. But fifty taels? Among countryside day-laborers, even ten years of work wouldn’t secretly accumulate that much.

If Fu Shichun had such ability, he wouldn’t be clinging to the family property at all.

This time, Fu Dayan was truly disappointed.

But these were his children—his choices. Now he had no dignity left to return to his wife and youngest child.

Several days later, Ge Shiyan finally heard from a friendly village woman that Liu Wangshi had visited the Fu household.

They said the old woman had left with an awful expression. Her daughter-in-law sat beside her, while the old woman lay half-collapsed in the donkey cart, too dispirited to greet anyone.

Her stepdaughter had returned home and thrown a tantrum—her mother-in-law had even been scolded during dinner. The mother-in-law now wandered everywhere complaining about this daughter-in-law.

As for Fu Shichun and Ma Meifang, nothing looked unusual—but they spoke to no one.

This made the villagers even more curious about what had happened that day.

Hearing all of this, Ge Shiyan suddenly realized—these past two days, Fu Dayan had acted strangely. Before, whenever he helped her in the fields, he always looked for chances to chat, afraid their relationship would grow distant.

These two days, he buried himself in work, barely looked her in the eye. It was like… like he was avoiding her. Like he felt guilty…

After thinking secretly for a long while, a sharp thought flashed through her mind.

Could that old man have finally realized how ungrateful his beloved children were?

That thought made her so happy she felt weightless.

Feeling cheerful, she decided to give the family a good meal. 

Humming a tune, she sharpened her knife. By sundown, one chicken in the courtyard had lost its life, and a pot of bubbling old hen soup simmered in the kitchen.

Since the household rarely had chicken, Ge Shiyan opened the locked inner layers of her dowry trunk and took out the treasured ginseng. She carefully cut three tiny pieces of ginseng whisker—one slightly thicker, the other two practically just scratches.

Since old ginseng held strong potency, the thicker piece would be for Baobao alone. The others were enough to flavor the soup for the rest of the family.

Even such tiny bits of ginseng filled the pot with a faint fragrance. The rich scent of chicken and mushrooms now carried a hidden trace of ginseng.

Baobao, meanwhile, absentmindedly stroked the mouse while thinking.

She felt Fu Shinian seemed to be sulking.

She didn’t know why, but since it was her little future husband, she felt she still ought to coax him.

“Sigh, spoiling people is tiring.” She scratched the mouse while muttering. If the boy got used to being coaxed, she would suffer later.“If he dares again, I’ll give all the ginseng to Sanhua.”

She knew her mother had added ginseng today. She had already decided—she would give the piece meant for her to Fu Shinian.

She whispered while scratching Sanhua’s little chin.

Hearing the word “ginseng,” Sanhua’s ears perked up instantly. Its head was tiny, and its ears even tinier. It only understood half a phrase—but Baobao didn’t notice.

That evening, when Fu Shinian returned and saw Baobao sitting in the courtyard—hands propping her cheeks, two chubby legs swinging—he instinctively wanted to run to her.

Then he remembered he was still angry. 

Halfway across the courtyard, he stopped, stiffened, and walked past her with an exaggeratedly heavy step.

QAQ. She was still sitting with that fat mouse. Clearly, she didn’t treat him as her favorite.

“Little Brother, dinner’s ready! Mother cooked chicken soup today. She even ladled a bowl for me earlier, but I didn’t drink it. Something that yummy—I wanted to wait until you got back so we can drink it together.”

His cheeks still carried a bit of baby fat, but his fingers already had the shape of a scholarly boy—longer and more slender than other children his age, proportioned and elegant, even his nails looked naturally well-formed.

Baobao’s hands were plumper, her fingers shorter, her nails round like tiny pearls. When she shoved her hand into Fu Shinian’s palm, it didn’t look like she was holding his hand—it looked like she was forcing him to hold hers.

“You could have just eaten first!” Fu Shinian’s face almost broke into a grin. No matter how he tried to suppress it, the corners of his lips rose, and his little dimple peeked out. “Chicken soup smells so good. If you’re hungry while waiting, it feels even worse.”

But the truth was—he hadn’t been that angry. He just didn’t want Baobao to like anything more than she liked him.

And now, hearing she had waited for him… even resisting chicken soup… his heart softened instantly. That proved he was still the most important to her.

What fat mouse? What cousin? They couldn’t compare.

“Mm, but I still want to drink it with Little Brother.” Baobao nodded sweetly, hopping as she walked.

“You can drink a bowl first.”

“No, I want to drink it with you!”

“You can drink one bowl first.”

“Together! Together! Must drink together!”

Hand in hand, the two children chattered their way inside. 

Ge Shiyan and Lin Yu carried the chicken soup out, and seeing them get along again, both showed matching motherly smiles.

Only Sanhua, trailing at Baobao’s feet, stared with its bean-sized eyes full of burning anticipation.

Where was the ginseng? Wasn’t someone supposed to give it ginseng?

Author’s Note:

Sanhua: So love really does disappear, right?
(Also titled: If even one of my owners kept their promises…)