Chapter 114: Chapter 114: A Special Return Gift

The Great Northwest

As soon as Gu Qinghuan’s package of fifty jin of fine grain arrived, Zhong Ziyan took forty jin to Secretary Li’s house, keeping the remaining ten jin for Bai Jie to enjoy. Her throat had been plagued by a chronic cough for years, making it hard for her to eat anything too coarse or hard.

Of those forty jin, thirty-five were exchanged for various coarse grains to serve as their staple food for the winter. The remaining five jin of fine grain were given as a gift to Secretary Li’s family, to thank them for their ongoing care and help.

He also included some wild mountain goods sent by his niece—hazelnuts, pine nuts, wild mushrooms, and hickory nuts.

He couldn’t bear to part with the wild pheasant and rabbit, though—those rare treats of meat he wanted to save for Bai Jie to help her recover.

When Li Dacheng received the five jin of fine grain and the mountain goods, he was delighted. Although he’d been asked to look after them, it was still nice to be appreciated. It made him even happier to help in the future.

And five jin of fine grain was no small thing—it could be traded for twenty jin of coarse grain, enough to feed his whole family for more than half a month.

Not to mention the mountain goods. For rural folks in the northwest, these were delicacies they might never see in a lifetime—real treasures in their eyes.

They didn’t even know how to eat the pine nuts and hazelnuts; they had to ask Zhong Ziyan for instructions.

In the past, Zhong Ziyan hadn’t been able to give gifts to others—not because he didn’t want to, but because his home was bare, with nothing to offer.

They never had enough to eat themselves—how could he pretend to be generous?

But now things were different. With so much grain, military coats sent by his niece, and plenty of money and medicine, this winter was looking up. He even walked with a spring in his step, full of energy.

Ever since Gu Qinghuan’s grain and medicine arrived, Bai Jie had been able to eat food that suited her stomach, along with targeted, effective medicine.

Her illness had visibly improved. Before, when she coughed, it sounded like she was about to cough up her entire lung—sometimes with blood.

Zhong Ziyan had worried she might have the “lung disease” the elders always talked about.

He never expected that after a period of medication and better nutrition, she would miraculously start to recover.

She used to cough all night, getting up several times, always worried about disturbing Zhong Ziyan’s sleep. She’d force herself to hold back, but she couldn’t sleep or eat well—her whole body was a mess.

But in the past few nights, she’d actually been able to sleep through till morning without coughing.

Now, she only coughed a little if she caught a chill during the day.

Her complexion had also visibly improved, turning rosy.

She knew her own body best.

Bai Jie had thought she wouldn’t survive this winter—she’d even secretly written a will for her husband and daughter.

She never imagined the special medicine from her niece would work so well, with such immediate results.

Now she felt light all over—no cough, no chest tightness or shortness of breath. She even had energy for work, and felt like she could live many more years.

Both of them were in much better spirits.

There was only one thing: there had been no news from Zhong Luoning for a long time, and the couple couldn’t help but worry.

—

Meanwhile, when Zhong Zijun got home, she told her parents about the dangerous incident on the mountain.

Cheng Shuying kept chanting “Amitabha, Bodhisattva bless us!”

Zhong Weiqian slammed the table in anger. “This is outrageous! I’m going to settle this with him!”

Back when Wang the Cripple secretly pushed Zhong Zijun down the slope, Zhong Weiqian hadn’t known who the culprit was. Later, Gu Qinghuan avenged her, and the matter was dropped.

But this time, Wang wanted to completely ruin Zhong Zijun—or even kill her. This was intolerable.

The old couple knew their daughter well. She seemed gentle and soft on the surface, but she had a stubborn streak.

If that fool had really succeeded today, Zhong Zijun probably wouldn’t have survived. Even if she did, she wouldn’t have been able to live with herself after such humiliation.

She was a proud person—how could she endure being stripped and paraded through the streets?

Cheng Shuying quickly pulled him back. “Don’t be rash! Sit down! Didn’t you hear what our daughter said? The person who saved her said he’d take care of Wang the Cripple. Right now, the enemy is in the dark and we’re in the open. Don’t act rashly, or you’ll give them something to use against us. Besides, you’re not as young as you used to be—what can you do? You’d be no match for them.”

Zhong Weiqian bristled, feeling he wasn’t that old, but he had to admit his wife had a point. If this kind of thing was brought into the open, they’d be the ones to suffer. Better to do things quietly, like Huanhuan did before.

People like that didn’t deserve fair play.

After calming her husband, Cheng Shuying turned to her daughter for details about what happened.

“We really owe that man a lot this time. Even if he doesn’t expect anything in return, we can’t just do nothing—that would be ungrateful. And he even gave us some wild game for free. That’s very generous,” Cheng Shuying said thoughtfully.

“Your mother’s right. He’s a gentleman—he doesn’t expect repayment. But we can’t act like petty people. We have to return the favor. We can’t always wait for Huanhuan to handle everything,” Zhong Weiqian agreed, stroking his beard.

Zhong Zijun thought for a moment, then her eyes lit up with an idea for a return gift.

“I could make him a set of winter clothes. His cotton-padded jacket is all torn up, with holes everywhere—you can see the cotton inside. He’s a man, so he probably hasn’t had new clothes in ages. But…it’s a bit embarrassing…”

Making clothes was a private matter to begin with, and making them for a strange man was even more awkward.

But Cheng Shuying, though older, was open-minded. She made the decision right away. “Let’s do it! What’s there to be embarrassed about? Not having food or clothes is what’s embarrassing. He saved your life—what’s there to be shy about? Didn’t you say his father was sent down with him? Make a set for him too. You can’t let the old man watch his son wear new clothes while he has nothing. He wouldn’t feel comfortable. The only things we have to offer are the wild game—which he gave us—and a bit of grain. But with his skills, he probably doesn’t lack those. Clothes are what he needs, so let’s give him that.”

Zhong Weiqian agreed as well. “Your mother’s right.”

With both parents in agreement, Zhong Zijun stopped hesitating and got to work.

Making two sets of clothes would take some time, but hopefully they’d be ready before winter set in.

She’d need to take their measurements, though. She could estimate Ji Linhai’s size by eye, but she’d never met the old man, so she had no idea.

Luckily, Gu Qinghuan had sent plenty of fabric and cotton, so there was no need to buy anything extra.

The fabric was dull in color, not flashy, but you could tell by touch that it was good quality.

That night, after dinner, once most of the village lights were out, Zhong Zijun took the flashlight her daughter had given her, along with her measuring tools, and quietly slipped out.

Zhong Weiqian wanted to go with her, but the livestock in the cowshed suddenly got restless, so he had to stay behind.

Zhong Zijun had to go alone, but it was only a ten-minute walk. She realized she hadn’t noticed before, but the man actually lived in the cowshed near Huanhuan’s house.

After what happened that afternoon, Zhong Zijun was nervous the whole way. When she finally arrived, she almost wanted to turn back.

It was late at night, and here she was, going to a man’s house to say she wanted to make him clothes and take his measurements. It was embarrassing—she wasn’t one of those bold village women.

She paced back and forth at the door, too shy to knock.

But Ji Linhai heard something and shouted, “Who’s there?”

His booming voice startled Zhong Zijun, and she almost ran away.

The next second, the door opened.

Zhong Zijun stood there awkwardly, fidgeting with her hands.

Ji Linhai, seeing her in the dim moonlight, realized who it was.

“Oh, it’s you, miss! What brings you here? Come in, let’s talk inside.” He opened the door wider.

Zhong Zijun braced herself and followed, speaking softly, “Sorry to bother you so late.”

She added, “Coming during the day would have drawn too much attention…”

Ji Linhai, understanding, said, “I get it, I get it. Come in and have a seat. The place is a mess, don’t mind it.”

Zhong Zijun glanced around. Actually, it wasn’t that bad. The outside looked shabby, but inside it was neat and tidy.

This was just how things were in the countryside. For two men, keeping things this clean was already impressive.

“Linhai, who is it?” came an elderly voice from the inner room.

“It’s the girl’s mother,” Ji Linhai called back.

The “girl” was their nickname for Gu Qinghuan.

“Come in, miss, have a seat,” Ji Linhai said, moving a small stool he’d made himself and dusting it off with his sleeve before offering it to her.

After some rustling, the old man came out, neatly dressed and smiling.

“Well, well, what an honored guest! Please, have a seat. You rascal, go pour our guest some water,” he said to his son.

Ji Linhai scowled at his father for calling him a rascal in front of a guest, but went to pour water anyway."