The Fearless Husband - Chapter 8

Chapter 8 — The Old Lady’s Arm Was Almost Twisted Off…

“After you finished washing clothes with Hu Bo, did you come back together?” Yu Qinglong asked. “Did he try to stop you from coming to see me?”

“Long Ge’er, how did you—how did you know that?”

“He told you that if you came to find me, Uncle Bai and Aunt Bai would forbid you from ever visiting our family again, didn’t he?”

“?!”

Bai Wanqiu’s eyes widened in disbelief as he stared at Yu Qinglong.

Yu Qinglong smiled faintly. “And he also said he’d come tell me himself, didn’t he?”

Bai Wanqiu nodded frantically. “You knew?! So Hu Bo did talk to you?”

“He didn’t,” Yu Qinglong said. “You’re the one who told me, that’s how I know. You didn’t just come because of my second brother, right? You also came to warn me about this matter.”

“Mm.” Bai Wanqiu nodded. “I told my mother about it, but she said Hu Bo would never actually come to tell you. But Hu Bo swore to me that he would. I couldn’t rest easy, so I asked Aunt Liu, the one who lives across from us—she happened to be in her courtyard sieving beans at the time—and she said Hu Bo never went this way. So I got worried and…”

“But if I get married off, you’ll be able to marry my second brother sooner,” Yu Qinglong teased. “Don’t you want that?”

“I do,” Bai Wanqiu admitted, cheeks pink. “But why should you—such a good ge’er—be married off to a widower with two children? That would be awful. You’d have a miserable life.”

“You’re probably the only one who thinks that way. Hu Bo would be thrilled if I married such a man. That boy’s sly—his words are sweeter than honey, but his heart’s darker than tar.”

“But you two were always close,” Bai Wanqiu said, puzzled. “Why is he acting like this now?”

“He’s always been like this,” Yu Qinglong said flatly. “I was just blind before. Anyway, you be careful around him too. Whatever he says, think twice before you believe it. Don’t let him use you as a pawn.”

“I understand.” Bai Wanqiu nodded quickly. “But you should talk to your family soon, find a way out before things go too far. Don’t let yourself be wronged.”

As he spoke, he pulled out a light-blue embroidered pouch. “And this—could you give this to Qingye for me?”

“Of course. It’s beautiful—did you make it yourself?”

The little pouch was stitched with a pair of mandarin ducks. The fabric was plain, but the embroidery was fine and delicate.

“Yes,” Bai Wanqiu murmured, his ears flushing red. “Then—I’ll head back now.”

“Go on, then.”

Yu Qinglong brought the pouch inside and carefully set it aside, telling his family only about Bai Wanqiu’s feelings toward his engagement. As for the old matriarch’s ridiculous matchmaking plans, he didn’t say a word. First, he didn’t want Zhou Yuehua to worry. Second, he had no intention of marrying anyone—not even if the emperor himself came to drag him out.

Zhou Yuehua and Zhou Jian’er both felt sorry for Bai Wanqiu and hoped things would somehow work out between him and Yu Qingye. But hope didn’t change reality—money was still the biggest obstacle. They couldn’t even afford to build an extra room, and with the eldest daughter-in-law due before year’s end, the house would only get more crowded.

They’d have to find a way to expand the house.

Yu Qinglong thought of that too—but expanding meant spending money, and where was that supposed to come from?

The question weighed on him constantly. Every night, sleep eluded him. The straw-stuffed quilt rustled whenever he turned over, the faint noise grating in the silence. The filling wasn’t pure cotton—it was a mix of whatever they could find: a few stray feathers, tufts of willow fluff, and mostly rice straw.

Nights like this could drive anyone mad.

But he had no one he could complain to, so he forced himself to focus on other things. Maybe he just needed to tire himself out completely, so he’d be too exhausted to think.

The next morning, he got up before dawn.

His elder brother was carrying a bucket, ready to fetch water. Yu Qinglong hurried over. “Big Brother, I’ll go. You’ve got work during the day—spend your time in the morning with Sister-in-law.”

Yu Qingjia said, “It’s fine. Our bucket’s big—it’s heavy for you to carry. I’ll do it.”

“I’ll come with you then,” Yu Qinglong said. “I want to see how it’s done.”

He needed to see for himself how they drew and carried the water—maybe he could find a way to improve the process.

Yu Qingjia thought for a moment, then nodded. “All right, come along.”

The well was on the western edge of the village. The brothers walked westward beneath the rising sun.

It was funny, really—back in ancient times, the distance from one’s home to the well had even been a factor in matchmaking. Families close to the well were considered fortunate and desirable.

Their house, however, was not close at all.

Yu Qinglong watched as his brother placed the wooden bucket on a clean stone platform, lifted the well’s wooden lid, hooked the rope, and dropped the bucket down. Then, using the crank, he drew it back up, poured it onto the platform, and replaced it with another bucket. It looked simple—but it was heavy work.

The hardest part was carrying the full buckets home. Yu Qinglong tried and immediately struggled to balance them.

Yu Qingjia laughed. “Better let me handle it, little brother. You’ll spill half before you’re home.”

“It’s fine, I’ll keep practicing,” Yu Qinglong insisted. “If I can’t do it this time, I’ll try again later.”

So his brother walked beside him, teaching him the rhythm and technique.

Thanks to the original body’s muscle memory, Yu Qinglong got the hang of it quickly—but the weight was still brutal. His brother hadn’t been exaggerating—the buckets were enormous.

By the time he staggered home, he was drenched in sweat.

Still, after breakfast, he didn’t rest. As soon as he finished eating, he went to Doctor Mo’s house again, fetched two buckets of water for them as well, and began sweeping the courtyard.

Doctor Mo sighed. “Qinglong Ge’er, I really don’t take apprentices.”

“That’s fine,” Yu Qinglong said cheerfully. “I’ll just study herbs with Big Sister Mo first.”

Doctor Mo: “……”

An honest man can be terrifying when he’s stubborn.

Shaking his head, Doctor Mo went inside to sort his medical cases.

Mo Xiaoning said quietly, “He just doesn’t want to be reminded of his old apprentice. Don’t take it to heart.”

“Don’t worry, Big Sister,” Yu Qinglong said. “I understand. It’s fine. Someday, Master will see how sincere I am.”

She nodded.

From that day on, Yu Qinglong went to the Mo household every single day. Luckily, because he was a ge’er and Mo Xiaoning was old enough to be his mother, no one gossiped about it. If not for his determination to become a disciple, he would’ve been calling her “Auntie” instead.

He threw himself into it—each morning, he fetched water for his own family first, then for the Mos.

Actually, two trips. The Mo household used much more water.

Then he’d sweep the yard, help with chores, and study herbs whenever he could. Sometimes he even played with Mo Xiaoning’s son, Liang Mo.

The boy was seven, quiet and pale, dressed in clean gray homespun clothes. Unlike other children his age, he wasn’t very lively. Perhaps because of his mother’s experiences being mocked for her birthmark, she rarely let him play outside—but she gave him the best of everything she could.

Most mornings, Liang Mo ate breakfast alone and sat in the courtyard, playing by himself.

Seeing this, Yu Qinglong made him a toy boat from sticks and string, and even crafted a tiny toy well with a working pulley.

Liang Mo adored them. Before long, he followed Yu Qinglong everywhere, calling, “Uncle Qinglong! Uncle Qinglong!”

That morning, Liang Mo woke up early, eager to follow his Uncle Qinglong to the well—his mother seldom let him out otherwise.

But after waiting a while, Qinglong still hadn’t come.

“Mother, why hasn’t Uncle Qinglong come yet?” he asked, eyes wide with disappointment. “I wanted to go fetch water with him.”

“Maybe something’s keeping him,” Mo Xiaoning said. “Be patient a bit longer.”

She doubted Yu Qinglong would quit so suddenly. At first, she’d thought he’d last only a few days before giving up, but she’d learned otherwise—he had grit. Yesterday he’d been as determined as ever. For him not to show up today was strange indeed.

She suspected something must have happened.

And she was right.

That morning, Yu Qinglong had risen early as usual, fetched water for his family, and was on his way to the Mo household—when he was stopped by his “third uncle,” Yu Daguai, the youngest son of the old matriarch.

“Qinglong, wait up!”

“Oh?” Yu Qinglong set down the buckets. “Third Uncle, what is it?”

“What are you doing running to the Mo family every day?” Yu Daguai demanded. “You’re an unmarried ge’er, hanging around another family like that—what do you think people will say? The old lady’s already arranging your marriage. You’d better stay home and behave. Otherwise, no one will want you! You’re not getting any younger, and if you don’t get married soon, your second brother won’t be able to afford a wife either. You should hurry up and bring home a dowry to help him out!”

Yu Qinglong raised an eyebrow. “My second brother himself isn’t complaining—why are you so anxious, Third Uncle? If you’re that concerned, why not give him a dowry yourself? You like to call yourself my uncle—how about acting like one for once? Seems you want the title without the responsibility.”

Yu Daguai hadn’t expected such defiance. He stormed out, pointing a finger in rage. “You little bastard! What kind of talk is that?! You’re lazing around at home and still have the gall to answer back? Who taught you to disrespect your elders like this?!”

That did it. Yu Qinglong’s temper flared instantly. Oh, he wanted to fight. But—this was ancient times. Filial piety above all. Talking back could be a crime!

So instead, he changed tactics—burst into tears, wailing theatrically. “Third Uncle! How could you say that? I wasn’t arguing, I was begging for your help! You remember when I was little, don’t you? Father and Dad worked from dawn till dusk, and Grandma was supposed to look after me. She said I was growing too fast and refused to feed me, afraid I’d get too big to marry! She made me do all the chores so I’d stay small! And now you want to sell me for money?! Third Uncle, how could you?!”

Then he threw back his head and howled, “Grandma! Grandma! Come out quick—Third Uncle’s trying to sell me!”

“What nonsense is this?!” the old matriarch shrieked, hurrying out. “Who’s selling you now?!”

Yu Qinglong saw not only the old woman but also several neighbors come out to watch—and immediately began his performance in earnest.

“It’s true, Grandma! He said it! Boo-hoo, you always worried I’d grow up too tall to marry, and now Third Uncle’s trying to sell me for silver! You can’t let him do this!”

Yu Daguai turned purple. “When did I ever say I’d sell you?! I said you should get married and bring back a dowry so your brother can marry, that’s all!”

“Oh, so it’s you who wants to marry me off to that widower who drinks and beats his wives—and already has two sons?” Yu Qinglong cried louder. “And you call that helping family?!”

“You little—!”

His two younger cousins—Daguai’s sons, one a boy and one a ge’er—came charging out, red-faced. “Who are you calling names?!” The elder shoved Yu Qinglong hard.

That was exactly what Yu Qinglong was waiting for. The adults he couldn’t hit—but the brats? Fair game.

He steadied himself, then lunged forward, knocking Yu Qingfa flat and pinning him to the ground. “You dare shove your elder brother?! Let’s see who teaches whom a lesson today!”

Yu Qingfa shouted, “Yeah, I pushed you, you bastard! You think I’m scared?! I’ll kill you! Brother, help me!”

The younger one jumped in too, but Yu Qinglong had been hauling water for days—he was stronger than he looked, and not at all the frail ge’er they expected.

He pinned Yu Qingfa down and beat him soundly. “Kill me? Let’s see who dies first!”

Smack! Thud!

The old matriarch and Yu Daguai rushed forward to pull them apart—but no matter how they tugged, Yu Qinglong wouldn’t let go.

Yu Qingfa’s eyes were watering, one tooth already loose. “Yu Qinglong! I’ll kill you!”

The old woman screamed, yanking at Yu Qinglong’s sleeve. “Let him go, you little beast! Are you crazy?!”

“I am crazy!” Yu Qinglong wailed. “Third Uncle wants to marry me off to a widower with two sons! He lets his children bully me—and you still expect me to be quiet?! Yu Qingfa, are you ever going to bully me again? Are you?! Say it! If you don’t apologize today, I’ll teach you what ‘respect for your elders’ really means!”

Let’s see how you like it when I beat your grandmother’s favorite!

Yu Qingfa, desperate, cried out, “It wasn’t me! It was Grandma who wanted to marry you off!”

The neighbors gasped. “Old Lady Yu! You really trying to marry Long Ge’er to a widower?”

Another chimed in, “Could it be Old Zhao from the sauce shop?”

Even if she wasn’t his real grandmother, this was outrageous. The boy might be big, but he was handsome—how could they send him to some old widower with two rotten sons?

And everyone knew—there was only one widower around here who matched that description: Zhao the sauce-maker, ugly, mean, and violent.

The old woman stammered, “I—I didn’t!”

Yu Qinglong’s eyes widened theatrically. “What?! Yu Qingfa, how dare you slander Grandma like that?! How could you blame her for something she didn’t do?! I’ll teach you a lesson for being unfilial!”

“Stop, stop!” the old woman panicked as the crowd thickened. Her precious grandson’s eyes were already swollen. “Enough, Long Ge’er! It’s not true! There’s no such thing! Let him go!”

Only then did Yu Qinglong release the boy—but instead of stepping back, he grabbed the old matriarch and hugged her tightly.

“Boo-hoo, Grandma, I knew you weren’t that kind of person! You’ve always been the best to me!”

The old woman looked utterly disgusted and tried to shove him off, but at nearly sixty, she didn’t have the strength.

“Grandma, just let me hold you for a bit! It’s been so long since I hugged you properly!”

Yu Daguai, seeing his son’s swollen face, was livid. He lunged to pull Yu Qinglong away. “Let her go!”

“I won’t!” Yu Qinglong cried. “I missed Grandma!”

Yu Qingfa, face full of rage, charged again—he didn’t care who was in the way anymore. He grabbed Yu Qinglong’s sleeve and yanked hard—so hard that both he and the old woman went down with a crash!

The matriarch’s head struck the ground with a loud thud.

“Ahhh!” she shrieked in pain.

Yu Qinglong immediately cried out, “Grandma! Are you all right?! Yu Qingfa, how could you?! How could you hurt Grandma when she loves you so much?!”

Yu Qingfa was stunned.

Yu Daguai shouted, “What are you standing there for?! Go call the doctor!”

The younger son, Yu Qingcai, bolted off in panic.

He hadn’t gone far when he spotted a familiar sight: a bullock cart carrying two men—one old, one young. He didn’t recognize them as locals, but he didn’t care—he ran straight for Doctor Mo.

Those two men, of course, were Fang Dingman and Fang Shu, on their way for Fang Shu’s follow-up treatment.

They had been watching from afar for some time.

Fang Shu, his back still sore, hadn’t dared approach too close.

Fang Dingman squinted at the scene. “That ge’er sure is tall. But that uncle of his and those boys—what vile people! Ganging up on him like that.”

“You think the ge’er was the one being bullied?” Fang Shu asked.

“Wasn’t he?” his father replied.

Fang Shu watched Yu Qinglong kneeling by the fallen matriarch, sobbing and wailing, “Grandma, wake up! Please wake up!”

He thought silently, He looks sincere enough—but if he hugs her any tighter, the old woman’s arm is going to pop right off.