The Fearless Husband - Chapter 2

Chapter 2 — Who on Earth Is So Shameless to Compete with Him…

Yu Qinglong had no idea that someone had pulled up all of his carefully placed trail markers. After setting the last small stick into the ground, he lifted the carrying basket and continued walking toward his family’s field.

Inside the basket were two small hoes—for digging wild vegetables later—along with a few bowls and a large clay jar filled with thin millet porridge.

The porridge was watery but heavy, so he had placed it in his own basket instead of letting his dad carry it. Zhou Yuehua had damaged his health years ago, working too hard to earn enough money to separate from the extended family early, and Yu Qinglong couldn’t allow him to lift anything heavy anymore.

Zhou Yuehua’s own basket held a few simple sesame cakes and two boiled eggs.

The sesame cakes were nothing special—he’d seen them being made earlier. The flour was coarse, mixed with bits of bran and grit, grayish in color. But now that it was spring, the grain from last autumn was running out while there was still endless work to be done in the fields—this was the hardest season of the year.

By the time they reached their field, the three men already working there were starving, stomachs growling audibly.

The second brother, ever the quickest, set down his hoe and ran over the ridge with concern. “Dad, you’re a little late today. Was something holding you up at home?”

Yu Qinglong replied, “No, nothing happened. I was just making marks along the way as I walked, so it took a bit longer. You know how bad I am with directions, second brother. With the marks in place, I can come by myself next time, and Dad won’t have to cook and still run around leading me both ways.”

Yu Dayou asked, “Huahua, are you feeling alright anywhere?”

While pouring porridge into bowls, Zhou Yuehua said, “No, I’m fine. Let’s eat quickly; I brought some pickles too.”

After that, he wiped his hands with a damp cloth, peeled an egg, and handed it to his husband. Yu Dayou broke it in half, didn’t even taste it, and without a second thought put one half into his wife’s mouth and handed the other to their youngest son.

Yu Qinglong, who had just been inwardly lamenting the simplicity of their meal, felt a sudden pang in his chest as the half egg was offered to him.

Back in the modern world, he had been raised by his grandparents. His parents had divorced and each remarried, sending him living expenses but rarely visiting. He saw them perhaps once a year, if that. So, he hadn’t had much experience with parental affection—his deepest bond was with his grandparents, who’d treated him like a treasure.

In the modern world, he wouldn’t have given half an egg a second glance, but here—it was priceless.

He looked at the large, rough hand holding the egg out to him. The skin was cracked and coarse, the kind of hand you’d never see in a modern city.

He accepted the egg, broke off a small piece—maybe a fifth—and put it in his mouth before pushing the rest back into Yu Dayou’s hand. “You eat it, Father. I can’t do as much work as you anyway.”

Then he stood, dusting off his pants. “Big brother, can you show me exactly which plots of land are ours? I can never seem to remember.”

Yu Qingjia waved his chopsticks. “Come sit by me.”

Yu Qinglong squatted beside him. “See that field you’re facing? What does it look like?”

“Hmm… a big, hairy caterpillar?”

The other families’ fields were all sorts of geometric shapes, but theirs looked like a stretch of railway overgrown with grass—two long, straight rows with short ridges connecting them, just like rails and ties. Of course, he couldn’t say that aloud.

Yu Qingjia chuckled warmly. “Sure, that works. The hired laborers for that plot haven’t gotten around to it yet, so it’s still covered in weeds. See that ‘caterpillar’? Look down a bit—what do you see?”

“My seat, this plot right here.”

“Exactly. That’s our land, facing the caterpillar’s tail. There’s a river right beside it. Think you can remember that now?”

“Oh, absolutely.”

Yu Qinglong grinned. “Got it. I’ll definitely be able to find it myself next time.”

Zhou Yuehua said, “The things you carry are heavy, and I’d worry if you went alone. Besides, if we go together, we can gather more wild vegetables.”

That was true enough. “Alright, Father, you all eat first. I’ll go dig some greens.”

He didn’t know many plants, but he could recognize wild garlic, dandelions, and shepherd’s purse. Back in university, those grew all over the campus lawns in spring. He’d even seen the cafeteria aunties digging them up once and learned how.

With a small hoe in hand, he squatted down to search. Even crouched, he was still a big, solid figure—clearly larger than most ge’ers.

But Yu Qinglong was secretly grateful for that. In a place with such poor medical care—where falling ill could ruin or even end a life—a strong body was everything. And if being this sturdy scared away potential suitors, even better.

He had no intention of marrying someone whose worldview clashed with his. Better to spend a lifetime digging dandelions = =.

As he worked, he started pulling up whole roots, soil and all.

Second brother asked, “Little brother, why are you taking the dirt with it?”

“I’m gonna try planting them in our yard,” said Yu Qinglong. “If they take root and seed, they’ll spread into our fields next year. Then we’ll have more growing wild! Or, when they go to seed, we can collect them and plant them ourselves.”

The family stared, momentarily stunned.
Right—why had none of them ever thought of that before? Wild greens could produce seeds just like any crop! Last year hadn’t been a famine year, and wild vegetables were everywhere. But if a bad year came, there wouldn’t be a sprout left by spring—every green shoot would be dug up the moment it appeared.

Yu Qingjia said, “Still, don’t dig too hard or you’ll hurt your hands. Once we’re done here, your brothers and I will dig more to bring back.”

That sounded fine to him. The weather had been dry for days; dust flew up easily, stinging the eyes. His brothers’ tools were longer, so they could dig faster and with less strain.

“Deal. But don’t forget!”

“Don’t worry, we won’t.”

“And if you do, I’ll remember for you,” second brother laughed. “I’m just so happy today. Thinking you won’t have to marry that Wang idiot makes me feel lighter already.”

Yu Qinglong smirked. “Careful, or I’ll stay single forever and make you take care of me.”

“Ha! That’s fine by me!” Second brother’s booming laugh carried far over the fields.

Yu Qinglong sighed quietly.

He hadn’t been here long, and everything still felt new and curious. Being away from textbooks was indeed refreshing, but… how many days could he really live without a phone or classmates?

And then there were his grandparents. The thought of them made his chest ache. They both had pensions, and his father wouldn’t neglect them, but still… if the original Yu Qinglong was now in his world, they must have noticed something strange about him by now.

Troubled, he kept digging.

He’d gathered quite a bit of greens, though his mind was elsewhere, and before he knew it, he’d wandered far—right up to the “caterpillar’s tail.”

“Dad!” he called out. “Can I dig over here in this plot?”

“Sure!” Zhou Yuehua answered.

“Is this whole stretch owned by one family?”

Following his son’s gesture, Zhou Yuehua gazed into the distance. The field stretched almost endlessly. He smiled with a touch of envy. “Yes, that’s all one family’s land. The Fang family from the neighboring village—they’re a big clan with many members. One of them’s even a scholar. I reckon they’ll have even more land in the future.”

A scholar with acres of farmland? A landlord, basically! And scholars didn’t have to pay taxes, right?

How enviable.

For a fleeting moment, Yu Qinglong even imagined pretending to be a man and taking the imperial exams himself.

But that was illegal, and he couldn’t risk implicating his family. Besides, they had no money to send him to school anyway.

Still, he couldn’t help a twinge of jealousy.

All that land and a scholar’s title… if that guy also happened to be handsome, the next time they met, Yu Qinglong swore he’d mentally punch him twice just out of spite. Why did all the good things go to one person?!

He gave the basket a light tap, pressing the wild greens down. The air was dry; exposed leaves wilted quickly in the wind.

“That’s enough for now,” said Zhou Yuehua. “Let’s head home. It looks like it might rain later, so let’s not get caught in it.”

Yu Qinglong looked up at the sky. “Alright. I’ll go pack up our things.”

When he reached the ridge, he saw his eldest brother had already tidied everything up. All Yu Qinglong had to do was pick it up and carry it.

There was still about an hour and a half before dusk.

He called out, “Father, should I bring you something for later—”

“What for?” Yu Dayou asked.

Umbrellas, of course—but the words died in his throat. Right. They didn’t own any. Umbrellas were expensive.

All they had were straw rain capes.

“Oh, nothing. Just thought to bring the capes. Dad said it might rain, but I can’t carry them all myself.”

“No need. We’re almost done here. We’ll be back early today.”

“Alright, then Dad and I will head back first.”

Yu Qinglong picked up the bundle and walked ahead, eager to see if he could find his way home using his markers.

He felt oddly excited.

When he reached the edge of the fields, he crouched down to check—he found eleven sticks. After that, nothing.

He kept walking toward home but still didn’t see any.

“Dad, did we take the wrong path?”

“No,” said Zhou Yuehua, “why?”

“The little sticks I planted—most of them are gone.”

What the hell?! There were only holes left! Who was the bored lunatic who’d gone and pulled them all out?!

He’d stuck them in deep—there’s no way the wind had blown them away!

Grinding his teeth in fury, he fumed—he’d spent so long picking those!

Seeing his face turn red with anger, Zhou Yuehua chuckled. “Next time, I’ll come with you, and you can plant them again.”

“Next time, I’ll watch them myself. I want to see who’s been pulling them out. I wasn’t even blocking anyone’s path! How can someone be this annoying?”

Zhou Yuehua gave him another curious look.

Realizing he’d spoken too harshly again—the original had never complained—Yu Qinglong quickly changed the subject when he spotted the big poplar tree outside their home. “Dad, looks like it’s about to rain. I’ll go hurry and take the quilts inside!”

And off he darted like a slippery eel, leaving Zhou Yuehua quietly suspicious behind him.

In the neighboring village, Xiaxi.

Fang Shu washed all the small sticks he’d collected, dried them under the sun, then divided them into two piles. The smaller pile he fashioned into something resembling a campfire stand, with the crossed ends serving perfectly as a pen rest.

The larger pile, he wove together with hemp string into a wooden curtain, secured it between two boards, and hammered a few small wooden pegs at the top. It became a hanging rack for brushes.

As for who had stuck those little sticks in the ground in the first place, he figured it must’ve been some child playing while accompanying adults in the fields. They’d probably forgotten about them, so he saw no harm in taking them.

Folding his arms, Fang Shu admired his handiwork, looking thoroughly pleased with himself.

His mother, Madam Fang Wu, groaned. “Son, can’t you stop bringing home all this junk?”

“Mother,” he replied earnestly, “how can you call this junk? Stones, plants, wood—all gifts from heaven. To leave them rotting outside would be a waste. By turning them into useful things, I train both mind and body while saving the family money. Isn’t that a fine thing?”

Madam Fang Wu tiptoed carefully across the cluttered floor, dodging stray stones and wood scraps. “But if you keep hoarding this nonsense, where will your future wife even stand? You planning to make her live on one leg in this house?”

Fang Shu thought about it—it was a bit unsightly. But the thought of throwing his treasures away felt like death itself. “We’ll deal with that when the time comes. Anyway, I don’t have anyone I like yet.”

“You’re already twenty-one! Your father and I would like some grandchildren, you know. Tell me—do you prefer ge’ers or girls? I’ll send a matchmaker to see if there’s someone suitable. You need to start early—if you wait too long, all the good ones will be taken! If no one here catches your eye, I’ll look in another village—or even in town if we must.”

“Mother, really, there’s no rush. I have to get up early tomorrow to move some stones, so you should rest.”

“Move—move stones?” she said sharply. “What stones this time?!”

Fang Shu’s face lit up, his expression pure bliss. “I saw a wonderfully smooth boulder on the way back from the fields today. If I can bring it home, I might be able to make something useful out of it. It was too big to carry alone, so I left it there. I’ll fetch it in the morning.”

“The house is already full of the stones you’ve dragged back, and you’re still moving more?!”

“This one’s different.”

“You always say that! Why don’t you just marry a stone and be done with it?!”

“Well, that wouldn’t be so bad either. Mother, can I borrow the ox cart tomorrow?”

“No! If you’re so fond of stones, haul it back yourself!”

Fang Shu thought stubbornly, Fine. If she won’t lend it, I’ll harness it myself.

The next morning, he rose early, yoked the ox himself, and set out to find his precious rock.

All the way, he imagined its future—perhaps he’d carve it into a stone bench? Or make it into a table? Or maybe place it somewhere breezy to use as a drying slab for vegetables? That could work nicely too.

But when he reached the spot—there was no stone. Only a pit the size of a washbasin.

The boulder he’d set his heart on was gone!