The Fearless Husband - Chapter 22

Chapter 22 — His Brother’s Strength Rivaled That of an Ox…

After that meeting with Yu Qinglong at Doctor Mo’s house, Fang Shu seemed to vanish without a trace.

Zhou Yuehua and Yu Dayou, knowing their youngest son had spoken with the scholar himself, felt torn inside. They were reluctant to see their son marry out, but if they had to choose, they still hoped for the match with the Fang family to succeed. Yet days passed with no word from the other side, and their hearts grew anxious.

Only Yu Qinglong remained entirely unbothered. He simply didn’t believe the Fang family would agree to his conditions. By the standards of this era, his demands were far too unreasonable—something most families would never accept.

He suspected Fang Shu was either still arguing with his parents… or had already given in. If things were going well, there would’ve been news. Silence could only mean one thing—it wasn’t happening.

So gradually, he stopped thinking about it altogether.

Instead, he turned his focus to building the waterwheel. He had discovered a large stone near the southern riverbank—perfectly suited for the base. With a little shaping, it would fit perfectly. So he called his elder brother Yu Qingjia to help him move it.

Their family owned no ox or cart, and the two households in the village that did were using theirs for the busy farming season. With no help to borrow, the brothers could only rely on their own hands.

As they walked, Yu Qinglong silently reviewed the lessons his master had recently taught him, occasionally chatting with his elder brother along the way.

“Didn’t Second Brother say he’d be back in ten days or so?” Yu Qingjia asked.

Yu Qinglong nodded. When Yu Qingye had left, he’d said it would take about seven to ten days to gather all the timber needed for the waterwheel. But it had been half a month now—and still no sign of him.

“Could something have happened?” Yu Qinglong asked.

“Probably not,” said his brother. “If something had gone wrong, word would’ve reached us by now. Let’s give it two more days. If he still doesn’t return, we’ll go to town and check.”

“Alright.”

Soon they reached the riverside spot where the stone lay. It was about fifty centimeters long, twenty wide, and ten high—resting conveniently by the riverbank, easy to access without even stepping into the water. When first seen, it looked like a massive inkstone, and its underside was smooth as if crafted precisely to hold a waterwheel.

Yu Qingjia tested its weight. It was heavy, but not impossibly so.

They had brought along a burlap sack. Wrapping the stone inside, Yu Qingjia tied it securely with rope to keep it from scraping their shoulders raw.

“Let’s lift it together, Brother,” said Yu Qinglong. “We brought that wooden pole, didn’t we?”

They’d come prepared, worried one man couldn’t handle the weight. Along with the sack and rope, they’d brought a thick wooden beam—about as wide as a man’s arm—intending to sling the stone between them if needed.

But Yu Qingjia waved him off. “No need. It’s heavy, but not that heavy. Let me carry it first—if I get tired, we’ll do it together.”

Yu Qinglong frowned. “It’s better to share the load from the start. Why tire yourself out alone?”

His brother chuckled. “You’re shorter than me. If we each take one end, you’ll end up bearing more of the weight. Besides, you’re my younger brother—and a ge’er at that. How could I let you carry this? Don’t worry, I can handle it. If I’d known it wasn’t this big, I’d have fetched it myself.”

Yu Qinglong watched as his brother hoisted the stone onto his shoulder and rose with a deft motion.

Though tall himself, he was still a little shorter than Yu Qingjia. Strength clearly ran in their family—none of them were small.

Yu Qingjia walked ahead with the stone balanced across his back, while Yu Qinglong followed behind, gripping the wooden beam like a walking staff.

Halfway along the road, his brother stopped to rest, wiping sweat from his brow.

“Let me carry it for a while,” Yu Qinglong said.

“You won’t be able to,” said his brother.

“Won’t know until I try,” Yu Qinglong countered. He had lifted the stone once before while testing it—heavy, yes, but manageable. The only reason he hadn’t carried it home himself was because of the distance. “I can handle it for a bit.”

He bent, clenched his jaw, and with a controlled lift, raised the stone onto his shoulder.

Yu Qingjia blinked, speechless.

It wasn’t that he doubted his brother’s strength—but seeing it firsthand was another thing entirely.

“Let’s go,” Yu Qinglong said. “I’ll carry it for a while.”

Yu Qingjia scratched his head, still stunned. “Alright then, but if you get tired, say so.”

“Got it. Just don’t forget that wooden pole.”

He strode ahead while his brother followed, glancing at him now and then. “You sure you’re fine? Don’t go throwing your back out like that Scholar Fang.”

“Brother, could you please not jinx me?” Yu Qinglong snorted. “I’m fine. He’s the frail one. I haul water every day—he’s just a scholar, how could he compare to me?”

In this place, a strong body was more valuable than anything else. A sturdy frame meant resilience against illness and hardship—and for a ge’er, that was an even greater safeguard. So Yu Qinglong never slacked when it came to labor, treating work as both exercise and necessity.

Yu Qingjia laughed. “No wonder that scholar noticed your worth—he saw you’re strong in both body and mind. My little brother’s talented in everything.”

Yu Qinglong chuckled. “Now that’s what I like to hear. But stop making me laugh, or I’ll lose my strength.”

The two brothers continued chatting lightly as they walked toward the village. After two-thirds of the way, they switched turns again.

But before they reached home, they spotted someone in the distance, limping slowly down the eastern road. The man’s back was slightly hunched, his steps uneven and heavy.

“That looks like Second Brother,” Yu Qinglong said, smile fading.

“It really is! Hurry!” Yu Qingjia dropped the stone immediately and ran. Yu Qinglong followed close behind.

When they got closer, sure enough—it was Yu Qingye.

He was carrying a large sack over his shoulder, with bits of wooden planks and carved pieces sticking out of the opening.

But that wasn’t the worst part—his leg was clearly injured, and bruises marred his face. It was obvious he’d been in a fight.

“Second Brother, what happened to you?” Yu Qinglong asked, helping lift the heavy sack from his shoulder with his elder brother.

“It’s nothing,” Yu Qingye said. Free from the weight, he straightened slowly, breathing through the pain. “Little Brother, take a look at these when you can—see if any of the parts can be used. If some are damaged, we’ll need replacements fast.”

“Was it someone from the workshop?” Yu Qingjia asked grimly.

“No, just tripped while moving lumber. I’m fine.”

“How could you call this fine?” Yu Qinglong frowned. “Did you hurt anywhere else? I should fetch my master to treat you.”

“It’s really nothing,” Yu Qingye insisted, even patting his bruised side. “Doesn’t hurt anymore.”

The other two fell silent.

Of course it hurt. But he clearly didn’t want to spend money on medicine.

They brought the materials back to the courtyard while Yu Qingjia went to retrieve the stone they’d left behind. When their sister-in-law, Zhou Jian’er, saw Yu Qingye’s battered face, she gasped. “Second Brother, what on earth happened to you?”

“It’s fine,” he said tersely. “Don’t ask. Just… is there food? I’m starving.”

She hurried off to prepare a meal while the three brothers stored the supplies in the woodshed.

That shed held their waterwheel materials, tools, and other odds and ends. Yu Qinglong cleared a stool and had Yu Qingye sit. “Second Brother, be honest—was this because of the Li family again?”

“No,” he muttered. “I told you—it’s nothing.”

“How could it be nothing?” Yu Qinglong lowered his voice, tone hardening. “If you don’t tell us who did it, how can we fix it? Leave it unresolved, and you’ll only suffer worse later. You saw what happens when I try to endure quietly—I just end up bullied again.”

“Was it Zhao Laosi?” Yu Qingjia asked.

“No.” Yu Qingye licked the split in his lip carefully. “It was Yu Qingfa.”

“Yu Qingfa?”

“Yeah. He brought some street thugs from town to the workshop. They were causing trouble, blocking the craftsmen from working.” He spoke slowly, wincing with each word. “They’re notorious troublemakers—the master and the apprentices didn’t dare offend them. At first, everyone thought they were demanding a protection fee, but then they only picked on me. The others realized they’d been hired—to drive me out of the workshop.”

“So it was because I beat him up last time,” Yu Qinglong said grimly. “And because I went to Yu Qingxi to have him disciplined. He’s taking revenge. I’ve dragged you into this, Second Brother. But isn’t there any constable in town to deal with them?”

“Those ruffians are repeat offenders. The constables won’t lift a finger unless they’re paid.”

“And what did the workshop owner say?” Yu Qinglong pressed.

Yu Qingye didn’t answer right away.

The truth was, the owner hadn’t forced him to leave yet, but it was clear Yu Qingfa’s goal wasn’t to get him fired.

Yu Qingfa wanted him to send Yu Qinglong away—to the Li family, or Zhao Laosi’s house. Otherwise, he’d never work peacefully again.

But Yu Qingye could never utter those words. He could never shove his younger brother into a pit of fire.

Yu Qinglong, however, had already pieced it together.

“You didn’t bring your bundle or tools back,” he said. “So the owner didn’t officially dismiss you, right? That means Yu Qingfa made you a condition, didn’t he?”

“No,” Yu Qingye said quickly. “I just couldn’t carry everything at once. I wanted to bring these first to finish the wheel.”

“He wants you to send me away, doesn’t he?”

“I—what? No, I didn’t say that.”

Yu Qingye was flustered. His brother’s mind worked too fast—he couldn’t keep up.

Yu Qingjia frowned. “Looks like the third branch really wants to make enemies of us. Should we use the same trick as before?”

“What trick?” Yu Qingye asked.

Yu Qingjia explained the previous incident—how, when the third branch had tried to arrange a bad marriage for Yu Qinglong, they’d gone to the academy and sought help from Yu Qingxi. “If we go to him again, he won’t ignore it. The old lady dotes on him too much to let it slide.”

“That makes sense,” Yu Qingye said slowly.

But Yu Qinglong shook his head. “It won’t work this time. You really think the third branch wants Yu Qingxi to succeed?”

His brother frowned. “Probably not. They’ve been jealous for years. The old lady’s spent a fortune on his schooling. The third branch hates it—but their son refuses to study, so what can they do? They resent the second branch because the money always goes to them.”

Exactly.

The old matriarch had brought a bit of private wealth into the family when she married—a practical woman who’d chosen their handsome grandfather despite his being a farmer. Because of that dowry, the family had managed well enough. But when they divided the household years ago, the eldest branch had received very little, partly due to her stinginess.

Now, most of that money was being funneled into Yu Qingxi’s education. Naturally, the third branch was furious.

“See?” said Yu Qinglong. “The second and third branches are already at odds. They’re not afraid of us causing trouble. In fact, they want us to. If we drag Yu Qingxi into it, he’ll be blamed for the commotion, and they’ll be even freer to grab more of the old lady’s silver. So even if she steps in, they won’t back down.”

“But the old lady controls the money,” Yu Qingjia said. “Wouldn’t they be afraid to cross her?”

“If she really controlled it, the third branch wouldn’t dare act like this,” said Yu Qinglong coldly.

The second uncle was a gambler and a drunkard. Now, it seemed Yu Qingfa wasn’t much better. Yu Qinglong had wanted to let things settle quietly, but it was clear that peace was no longer an option.

“Brother, you stay and look after Second Brother,” he said at last. “I’m going to the fields.”

“What for?” Yu Qingjia asked.

“To find Second Aunt. She should be out working now. When she comes, Second Brother, remember what I tell you.”

He leaned down and whispered a few words to Yu Qingye before leaving.

Second Aunt Ye Meihua was nothing like Third Aunt Zhang Baodan. Zhang was coarse, lazy, and greedy—just like her husband—but Ye Meihua was hardworking and cared deeply about her son’s education.

When Yu Qinglong reached the fields, she was indeed there, weeding between the neat rows of soybeans.

Hearing footsteps, she looked up and smiled. “Qinglong? What brings you here?”

Yu Qinglong said, “Second Aunt, I’m afraid Brother Qingxi won’t be able to keep studying much longer.”