Chapter 68: Twisted into a Rope

Several hours later, Qin Huiyin was awakened by Li Peach Blossom.
Li Peach Blossom stepped down from the ox cart first, then extended her hand to Qin Huiyin.
Qin Huiyin grasped Li Peach Blossom's arm and jumped down. Li Peach Blossom hurriedly caught her, stumbling a little before she managed to steady herself.
“Still sleepy?” Li Peach Blossom asked gently, patting her head with concern. “Go and rest for a while. Leave things here to us.”
“I’ve already slept for several hours in the cart, I’m well rested. I’m just a bit groggy from just waking up, I’ll be fine after washing my face.” Qin Huiyin patted her cheeks and roused herself.
“Huiyin, you should rest. We may not be able to help with the business, but we can share the other household chores,” Tang Green Reed said. “I’ll take care of cleaning the pushcart. You can check it tomorrow, and if you find anything not clean, dock my pay.”
“I’ll handle dinner. Don’t worry about supper tonight, I’ll take charge,” Li Peach Blossom said. “I’ve been watching these days and have picked up quite a bit.”
“I’ll string the copper coins,” Tang Yi smiled, rubbing his nose. “If you trust me, that is...”
Money is no small matter; if someone were dishonest, they could pocket a few dozen coins and likely never be found out. So it would be understandable if Qin Huiyin didn’t want him to handle it.
Qin Huiyin was indeed well rested, but seeing everyone so eager to share the household responsibilities, she didn’t want to douse their enthusiasm.
“Then I’ll leave it to everyone. Little brother, we’re family—if I didn’t trust you, I wouldn’t have brought you into the business in the first place. The money isn’t just mine; everyone has a share. If I can handle it, why can’t you? It’s just that the coins are too scattered—if you do it alone, who knows when you’ll finish. Don’t rush, just string as many as you can, and after dinner we’ll all do it together.”
Tang Yi’s eyes sparkled at her words, delighted that not only had she not refused, she’d even considered his feelings.
So this is what it feels like to have family.
Although Qin Huiyin wasn’t tired, she let everyone take over the chores. She wasn’t without other things to do; for example, Li Peach Blossom had bought fifty chicks at the market, so she needed to prepare the chicken coop.
Tang Dafu hobbled back, carrying a wooden basin.
“You’re back.”
Seeing the basin in his arms, Li Peach Blossom asked, “You went to wash clothes?”
“I wanted to do something for everyone. The clothes you changed out of yesterday hadn’t been washed, so I gathered them up to wash,” Tang Dafu replied. “Wife, look, I washed them very clean.”
Li Peach Blossom took the basin and flipped through the clothes, then said in annoyance, “From now on, only wash the men’s clothes—don’t touch the girls’. Even if it’s just outerwear, it’s not proper for others to see.”

Especially since one of the girls isn’t even his own. If the village gossips started wagging their tongues, they could raise the dead with their words. She didn’t want anyone using filthy talk to shame her daughter.
“Alright then!” Tang Dafu, having hoped for praise but getting a reprimand instead, looked a little downcast.
Li Peach Blossom said flatly, “They are indeed clean. This is the first time I’ve seen a man wash clothes; in this, you’re better than the other men in the village. Seems I chose well.”
Qin Huiyin saw with her own eyes the light rekindle in Tang Dafu’s previously lifeless eyes. A moment before he’d looked like a withered eggplant, but in a blink he was brimming with energy again.
Qin Huiyin thought, her mother truly knew how to handle men.
“What are you standing there for?” Li Peach Blossom scolded playfully, one hand on her hip. “Aren’t you going to hang them up? Or are you waiting for me to do it?”
“I’ll hang them right away.” Carrying the basin, Tang Dafu hobbled off to the clothesline.
The Tang siblings watched in silence, their feelings complicated. On the one hand, seeing someone subdue their father—so much like the other narrow-minded, chauvinistic men of the village—gave them a bit of schadenfreude. On the other, watching him lavish attention on his new wife while never having done anything for his own children, they felt a pang of sadness and defeat, as if they, his flesh and blood, mattered less than an outsider.
Qin Huiyin took the newly bought paper and headed to Tang Yichen’s room.
Tang Yi and Tang Green Reed hurried over to help.
Whatever feelings they’d had just now vanished. Now, they felt that if trading a negligent father for such a clever and capable younger (or older) sister was the deal, they’d come out ahead.
When Qin Huiyin and the others entered, they saw Tang Yichen asleep at his desk.
On the table was a large stack of written pages, each covered in lines of calligraphy in various styles: some bold as iron and silver, some wild and unrestrained, some powerful, some neat and elegant, some as swift as a dragon’s tail.
Each style was different, yet each was eye-catching in its own way.
Such was the talent of the protagonist.
Both the protagonist and the villain were born in a rural place like this. Yet one was destined for greatness, the other for tragedy. The protagonist’s path was one of perseverance and inspiration; the villain’s was paved with pain, violence, and sorrow.
Qin Huiyin had witnessed Tang Yichen’s efforts with her own eyes. She knew he was a living, breathing person, not just a character in a book. He burned the midnight oil, wrote tirelessly. His motivation was not just for show.

“Big brother, you’re amazing. Your handwriting is beautiful,” Tang Yi said.
Tang Yichen opened his eyes, slowly sat up, and looked at them in confusion, ink smudged on his handsome face. “When did you get back? I must have fallen asleep—I didn’t even notice.”
Qin Huiyin pointed to her own cheek, struggling not to laugh. “You should wipe your face.”
Tang Green Reed fetched a handkerchief and handed it to Tang Yichen, pointing out the ink stain. “It’s here.”
Tang Yichen wiped his face and sure enough saw the ink mark.
“We just got back,” Qin Huiyin replied. “Have you been reading all day? That’s not good for your health. We just bought fifty chicks and haven’t set up the coop yet. Why don’t you help with that?”
“So that was your real reason!” Tang Yichen joked back.
The so-called quiet authority and unreadable expressions described in the book—it wasn’t like that in the early days. Now, Tang Yichen had not yet experienced the pain of losing his family; his gaze was clear, like the moon.
Everyone else got busy with their assigned chores. Qin Huiyin and Tang Yichen set about making the chicken coop.
The Tang family used to have a coop; when Tang Yichen’s mother was alive, she’d kept chickens. After her death, the remaining chickens were eaten and no one bought any more, leaving the coop abandoned. It now needed repairs to be usable again.
“The chicks are so small. It would be better if we had a mother hen to watch over them,” Tang Yichen said.
Qin Huiyin looked around to make sure Li Peach Blossom was in the kitchen and couldn’t hear, then lowered her voice: “My mother’s never raised chickens—she didn’t know. The chicken seller tried to persuade her to buy a hen, too, but she thought he was trying to trick her into spending more and refused to pay the extra fifty coins. When I went back, the seller was already gone, so we missed the chance.”
“Daughter, your mother can hear you…” Li Peach Blossom had appeared behind her at some point, holding a spatula and giving her a not-so-genuine smile.
“Mother, I was praising you. I said you were amazing to pick such lively chicks,” Qin Huiyin said quickly, her eyes wide and her smile sweet.