The Fearless Husband - Chapter 20

Chapter 20 — Scholar Fang Is Somewhat…

The sun was almost up, and wisps of white smoke were already curling out of every household’s chimney—yet these two brats were still sitting there!

Doctor Mo strode forward a few quick steps and called out, “You two have some nerve! How dare you sit here like you’re reading each other’s faces!”

Both Yu Qinglong and Fang Shu shot to their feet at once.
“Master!” “Doctor Mo!”

Doctor Mo opened the door and motioned for them to come inside. Fang Shu quickly said, “Doctor Mo, I—I came to have my back checked.”

Doctor Mo snorted, not believing a word. “If your back still isn’t healed, I might as well hang up my signboard. Unless you’ve been secretly moving stones again.”

Fang Shu coughed, feeling guilty. “Ah—just the occasional twinge. It’s nothing serious. But last time, Doctor Mo, you did say you’d give me another round of moxibustion.”

“You said you had something urgent at home and left early,” Doctor Mo reminded him. “Did you finish that business?”

“Mostly. Not entirely.” Fang Shu stole a glance at Yu Qinglong. “I might find out the result today.”

Yu Qinglong’s fingers twitched—he was dying to sock him.

Both of them still thought Doctor Mo was oblivious. But the day Fang Shu had rushed off like a man on fire, Doctor Mo had grown suspicious. When he later asked his grandson what he’d told Fang Shu, he’d pieced together enough to guess what was going on.

It seemed the scholar had really taken a liking to his apprentice.

Just then, both their stomachs growled audibly.

Doctor Mo sighed. “What’s so urgent you couldn’t even eat breakfast first? Ning’er, make a bit more this morning, and fix enough for these two as well!”

From the kitchen came the answer, “Got it, Father!”

Doctor Mo gestured for the two to follow him into his consulting room.

The small room held a heated brick bed along one wall and a narrow wooden cot beside it, used for patients during acupuncture or examinations. Against the window stood an old rectangular wooden desk, its varnish long worn away.

Doctor Mo had a habit of reviewing his case notes every few mornings—records of who had come recently, what ailments they had, and which remedies he’d prescribed. He would look them over to anticipate who might return for a follow-up.

This morning, he pulled the notes out and told Yu Qinglong to light the lamp. The sun hadn’t fully risen yet, and the paper windows let in little light.

After Yu Qinglong lit the lamp, Doctor Mo said to Fang Shu, “Lie down on the cot.”

Fang Shu actually felt much better, but he complied anyway—mostly because he didn’t know what else to do with himself. His hands and feet suddenly felt awkward, and Yu Qinglong’s barely concealed annoyance made his heart jittery. He was terrified that Yu Qinglong was truly angry about his family sending a matchmaker.

Feeling guilty, he lay down, eyes fixed on the floor.

Doctor Mo pressed at his lower back and said, “Long Ge’er, come here.”

“Yes, Master. Are we doing acupuncture?” Yu Qinglong asked.

“No,” said Doctor Mo. “When Master Fang came before, he said he hurt his back lifting stones. But the root cause isn’t just heavy lifting. Do you know what else it could be?”

Yu Qinglong thought for a moment. “A deficiency of qi and blood?”

“Kidney deficiency,” Doctor Mo said flatly.

“…” Fang Shu froze.

He wasn’t an expert in medicine, but even he knew that being called “kidney deficient” wasn’t exactly a compliment for a man.

Silently, the scholar turned his face to the wall, feeling utterly wronged. “Doctor Mo, my kidneys are fine! It’s just… I didn’t eat enough that day, and when I tried to exert strength, I used it wrong. That’s why my back twinged.”

Doctor Mo said, “Missing a meal or two won’t make you strain your back. If it’s deficiency, we treat it—what’s there to be embarrassed about? You walk without vigor, your stance is unstable—you’re barely in your twenties, how can you be so weak? When you came in just now, weren’t you dizzy for a moment?”

Fang Shu was speechless. He had felt dizzy when he stood up after squatting to talk to Yu Qinglong—his vision had even gone black for a second.

But that was because he’d been fasting for days to protest against his mother’s refusal to propose the marriage! There was no way he could admit that.

“I just got up too early. I’m sleepy,” he muttered.

Yu Qinglong couldn’t help smirking at his stubbornness. “Then, Master, should we still treat him with needles?”

“No need,” Doctor Mo replied. “Next time someone complains of back pain, pay close attention to these areas.” He pressed along Fang Shu’s waist as he spoke. “Master Fang, do you mind if I use your back to teach my apprentice some anatomy?”

“Not at all,” said Fang Shu quickly.

As Doctor Mo pressed here and there, he explained to Yu Qinglong which parts were bones, which were tendons, and which acupoints, when stimulated, improved blood circulation in the lumbar region. When he finished, he said, “The kidneys are the foundation of the body. They store essence and govern vitality. If one’s jing, qi, and spirit are strong, the kidneys are always sound.”

Yu Qinglong wanted to reach out to feel the exact spots but restrained himself, committing them to memory and sketching them later on a piece of birch bark.

The paper wasn’t ordinary writing paper—he had cut and smoothed the bark himself after several trips to the mountain with his second brother.

Doctor Mo had scolded him before for not using proper paper, but Yu Qinglong felt it wasteful. “Once I draw something twice, I remember it,” he’d said, politely refusing his master’s generosity.

Doctor Mo hadn’t insisted.

Fang Shu, however, noticed. He also noticed the pen Yu Qinglong was using—it looked different from any he’d seen. “Did you make this yourself?” he asked.

“My second brother did,” Yu Qinglong replied.

“May I take a look?”

Yu Qinglong handed it over, and just then Doctor Mo said, “I’ll see what’s taking Ning’er so long. Long Ge’er, find the medicine balls I prepared for Master Fang the other day.”

Yu Qinglong shot his master a grateful glance, then quickly turned to Fang Shu and whispered, “Master Fang, I’m not getting married. Please go back and tell your parents to stop sending people to my house. Just say it’s not suitable. Let’s pretend none of this happened.”

Fang Shu was momentarily stunned—he hadn’t expected such bluntness, without the slightest trace of shyness. But then again, wasn’t this direct honesty exactly what he liked about Yu Qinglong?

He said earnestly, “But I truly wish to marry you. Don’t worry—you can continue studying medicine after we wed.”

“I don’t want to marry at all,” Yu Qinglong said anxiously, “and I don’t want to have children!”

“…” Fang Shu fell silent. That… was a problem.

“If you like my wooden toys, I’ll keep making new ones for you—cheaper, even. But marriage isn’t right for us.”

“Why not? You—you’re not still thinking about Wang Fugui, are you?”

“Only a ghost would think of that bastard!” Yu Qinglong snapped. “Anyway, it’s impossible. I’m grateful for your regard, but marriage isn’t just between two people—it’s between two families. You say I can study medicine, but will your parents agree? And there’s still the matter of children. You should find someone else. I heard you’re the only son for three generations—that responsibility’s too heavy for me.”

Anyone with a bit of sense would realize that “no children” was unthinkable in the Fang household—or in any household, in this era that worshipped lineage and heirs.

He’d actually come this early hoping Doctor Mo could pass his message to Fang Shu, but since the man had shown up himself, he might as well make things clear face to face.

Fang Shu said, “If this proposal fails, my mother will be furious. She’ll keep bringing up other ge’er for me to meet. And I’ve never met anyone like you before. So how about this—accept our proposal for now, and after we’re engaged, we can take our time figuring things out. As for children… I’ll tell them I don’t want any. I won’t pressure you.”

Yu Qinglong blinked.

Seeing that hint of hesitation, Fang Shu pressed on, “Long Ge’er, you can trust me. I’ll treat you well.”

He looked a little shy, but his tone was utterly sincere.

Yu Qinglong asked, “And what if someday you meet someone more interesting—someone you like better? Once you choose to be with me, you can only be with me. No concubines, no lovers outside the house. Can you promise that?”

Fang Shu replied without missing a beat, “You’ve seen our land—plenty of fields, but my father has only one wife. I swear I’ll do the same. I ask only for one kindred spirit—to share the storms and the sunshine, without greed or betrayal.”

Yu Qinglong was speechless.

This guy was almost too progressive for his time. In the modern world, such words would be normal—but here, they were downright radical.

He tested him: “Heavenly King covers the Earth Tiger?”

“…What?” Fang Shu blinked, utterly lost. “What does that mean?”

Yu Qinglong sighed. Right, he’d been expecting too much.

“And if one day you fail to keep your promises?” he asked.

“Then you may do whatever you wish to me,” Fang Shu said firmly. “But I do need to speak to my parents about the medicine issue. Still, I swear I’ll convince them. So, Long Ge’er, say yes—please?”

Yu Qinglong looked straight into his eyes.

Under the faint lamplight, Fang Shu’s gaze shone bright and clear—earnest, open, sincere. Not a trace of deceit.

But this was a world that valued filial piety above all else. Defying one’s parents could even be considered a crime. Could Fang Shu truly persuade them? Yu Qinglong doubted it.

“Here’s the deal,” he said finally. “If you can really do all that, then write it down—a written promise that if anything changes, we can separate. I won’t stop you from trying. But even if my family agrees, your family must wait a full month before proposing again.”

“Why?”

“So we both have time to think. When your parents learn I intend to keep studying medicine, they’ll object. You’ll need time to convince them.”

In truth, Yu Qinglong didn’t believe they’d ever agree. Allowing him to study meant less time for housework or fieldwork. And though the Fangs were wealthy, they still worked hard—the calluses on his prospective in-laws’ hands proved as much. Would they really let him just read and write all day?

So he wanted that month—to let Fang Shu do his “ideological work” and to see if they could really accept him.

Fang Shu nodded. “Then promise me this—don’t accept any other proposals in the meantime. If anyone comes to discuss marriage, you’ll give my family priority?”

“I can agree to that.”

Fang Shu beamed. “Good! Then I’ll go tell my parents.”

Yu Qinglong grabbed his sleeve. “Wait! If you go now, they’ll know you’ve seen me today!”

Fang Shu glanced down at the spot where he’d been caught, and Yu Qinglong quickly released him.

Fang Shu brushed his sleeve lightly, cleared his throat, and said, “Don’t worry. I’ll just test the waters first. I won’t say I’ve met you. Once your family gives their reply, then I’ll speak to mine properly.”

Yu Qinglong nodded.

Fang Shu turned to leave—but before he could step outside, Doctor Mo called after him. “Where are you rushing off to? Breakfast’s ready, including your portion! If you don’t eat, it’ll go cold.”

So Fang Shu stayed.

At the table, Liang Mo had already risen, dressed neatly, and was sitting at the small side table.

They had two tables in all—Doctor Mo and Fang Shu at one; Yu Qinglong, Mo Xiaoning, and Liang Mo at the other.

Halfway through the meal, the little boy piped up, “Uncle Fang, where’s Salted Egg Yolk today?”

Fang Shu’s ears reddened. He couldn’t exactly admit that his mother had locked up the cow so he wouldn’t sneak off again.

“She’s… busy with other matters today,” he said.

“Oh,” Liang Mo replied. Then he turned to Yu Qinglong, “Uncle Qinglong, you said someone was proposing to you the other day. Who is it? Mother says once two people get engaged, they can be together forever.”

Yu Qinglong: “…” Kid, have you no table manners?

In truth, Liang Mo had only remembered because he’d just seen Fang Shu again. Otherwise, he’d have forgotten entirely. He’d also just learned from his mother what “proposing marriage” meant—and was now eager to show off his new knowledge.

“Mo’er, eat properly,” said Mo Xiaoning. “No talking while eating.”

“Then can I just ask one last question, Mother?”

She sighed but nodded.

“Uncle Qinglong,” the boy asked solemnly, “when I grow up, can I ask to marry you?”

Yu Qinglong hadn’t even opened his mouth before Fang Shu blurted, “Of course not!”

“Why not?” Liang Mo demanded.

“Because by the time you grow up,” Fang Shu said proudly, glancing at Yu Qinglong, “your Uncle Qinglong will already be married.”

“To who?” the boy asked, pouting.

Fang Shu smiled, full of smug triumph. “Why, to his husband, of course!”

Author’s Note:
Fang Shu: Long Ge’er, Long Ge’er! Hurry and marry me! 👀
Yu Qinglong: Not happening.
Fang Shu: Why?? 😭
Yu Qinglong: You’re kidney-deficient. 🙄
Fang Shu: I’m really not!! 😭😂
Yu Qinglong: Well, there is one way to fix it—marry you. 😳
Fang Shu: What?
Yu Qinglong: Get the aunties to leave comments. If they do, I’ll marry you. If not, you wait. 😎🕶️
Fang Shu: Aunties, please!! 🙏🙏🍚🍚😭😭