TTLJDFL Chapter 41

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Ever since the villagers attended Baozi’s full-moon banquet, their attitude toward Li Jin had clearly changed—it was no longer just about accepting that he had turned over a new leaf.

Before, when Li Jin met villagers on the road, they would greet each other.

But now, people were coming to his house to ask for help.

"Li Jin, my family is building a house tomorrow. I watered your vegetable plot today—can you water mine tomorrow? Our fields are right next to each other."

Li Jin readily agreed. "Sure, thank you for today."

"No trouble at all! I'll go fetch some water now."

This meant the villagers had truly started seeing him as one of their own.

The next day, it was Li Jin’s turn to water both plots. He carried several buckets of water back and forth to the field.

His physique and strength had improved significantly. Even with two full wooden buckets hanging from his carrying pole, he walked steadily.

The villagers saw him doing manual labor and thought to themselves—this man really knew how to take care of his family.

But Qin Muwen, holding Baozi in his arms at home, felt his eyes sting when he saw the scene.

In the past, when Li Jin carried a bamboo basket to town for his studies, his shoulders would ache. Once, when he pulled a cart, his shoulders got so chafed they became swollen.

And now, in such a short time, Li Jin could skillfully carry water to the fields, keeping the buckets steady even on the village’s uneven dirt roads.

People truly grow the most in difficult times.

Qin Muwen wanted to help, but Baozi was still small—he couldn't leave him alone, nor could he take him to the fields to be exposed to the wind.

He could only watch as Li Jin carried water back and forth, feeling helpless that he couldn’t do anything.

On Li Jin’s last trip, with the buckets hanging from the carrying pole, the back of his indigo work shirt was completely soaked with sweat, darkening the fabric.

He suddenly turned to look at the young man.

And what he saw startled him—Qin Muwen was quietly wiping away tears.

Li Jin quickly walked over. He wanted to wipe away the tears, but his hands weren’t clean from the work. He washed them first, then, without using a handkerchief, gently wiped Qin Muwen’s tears away with his thumb.

"What’s wrong? Don’t cry."

Qin Muwen hadn’t meant to cry, but the more he tried to stop, the more the tears kept falling. He really felt so sorry for A'Jin.

As a doctor, Li Jin had seen many postpartum women experience mood swings, and some even developed mild depression.

Because of that, he had been paying close attention to the young man's emotional state. Seeing him smile every day with his little dimples, Li Jin had slowly let go of his worries.

But today, for some reason, the young man was suddenly crying.

Qin Muwen was pulled into Li Jin’s arms, with little Baozi held in Li Jin’s other arm.

It wasn’t a long embrace—Qin Muwen soon stepped back on his own and said, "I’m fine. You should go finish watering. I'll wait for you to come home for dinner."

Li Jin didn’t leave immediately. Instead, he took Qin Muwen inside, unwrapped a piece of honey candy, and said, "Open your mouth."

These candies had been bought a while ago, but Qin Muwen was always reluctant to eat them. He would only sneak one when he really couldn’t resist.

By now, Qin Muwen had gotten used to listening to Li Jin. When Li Jin told him to open his mouth, he obediently did so.

The sweetness spread from his tongue, and sure enough, the tears stopped falling.

Li Jin said, "Rest here. I’ll be back soon."

Qin Muwen nodded. "Okay."

But as it turned out, Qin Muwen only listened to Li Jin when he was right in front of him. As soon as Li Jin left, he went straight to the kitchen to cook.

Two years ago, when their family was poor, even when making steamed buns, the filling was mostly wild vegetables.

Wild vegetables were great for cold salads, but when steamed inside buns, most of them, except for ground ivy, would turn bitter.

Yesterday, however, a neighbor had shared some homemade tofu with them. The tofu looked rough and crumbly, unsuitable for selling in town.

So rather than wasting it, they shared it with the neighbors.

If this had been in the past—when Li Jin’s parents had passed away—the family would never have received a share.

But now things were different. Even if Qin Muwen was home alone, the tofu was still delivered as usual.

Qin Muwen was skilled with a knife. He first moistened the blade and carefully cut the tofu into small cubes so that it wouldn't fall apart easily.

Finally, he mixed the tofu with vermicelli and minced pork, seasoning it with soy sauce and salt. Despite his careful handling, the tofu inevitably crumbled a little, but that couldn't be helped.

By the time Li Jin returned home, Qin Muwen was already wrapping the dumplings.

This was another way for Qin Muwen to make sure Li Jin had delicious food.

Previously, he would always pack roasted potatoes and boiled eggs in Li Jin's backpack. But now that they had a better supply of ingredients, he had expanded the variety—scallion pancakes, pumpkin buns, pan-fried dumplings, and more.

He was doing his best to ensure that Li Jin ate well.

However, when Li Jin entered the house and saw the young man busy in the kitchen, his expression darkened instantly.

Qin Muwen was startled, and the half-formed bun in his hands rolled onto the ground.

Since the birth of their child, Li Jin had never looked at him so sternly. Under Li Jin's usual gentle demeanor, Qin Muwen had gradually learned to be a little more cunning.

Just now, Li Jin had told him to rest, but he couldn't sit idle and had come to wrap dumplings instead.

Li Jin was truly angry this time—not in a playful way, but seriously upset.

In his past life, Li Jin had seen many postpartum women in the hospital suffer from depression. Husbands might coax them one moment, only for these women to secretly harm themselves the next.

If not for the timely intervention of nurses, who knew what could have happened?

Now, Li Jin was furious that, despite both his mood and body not having fully recovered, Qin Muwen was still standing in the kitchen cooking.

But he didn’t realize that his reaction had long surpassed mere anger—what he felt was a deep sense of anxiety.

Qin Muwen was so startled by Li Jin’s anger that he froze in place, completely at a loss. He wasn’t afraid that Li Jin would hit him—he was most afraid that Li Jin would ignore him.

Just imagining that possibility made his legs weak.

He braced one hand against the cutting board to support himself.

At that moment, Li Jin suddenly crouched down in front of him.

Li Jin’s forehead and back were still damp with sweat, showing that he had hurried through his work to return home as quickly as possible.

Qin Muwen watched as Li Jin picked up the fallen dumpling and its filling. The raw dough was now covered in dust, looking grimy and inedible.

But back in the day, people weren’t so particular—just a quick pat, and they would still eat it.

However, instead of cleaning it off, Li Jin tossed the whole thing into the stove to be burned as fuel.

Qin Muwen wanted to apologize, but before he could speak, Li Jin suddenly scooped him up—one arm supporting his knees, the other around his back.

Qin Muwen gasped as his feet suddenly left the ground.

He could feel the heat radiating from Li Jin’s body, along with the faint scent of sweat. But aside from that, there was no unpleasant odor—only the warmth of his embrace, which made Qin Muwen feel utterly secure.

Qin Muwen thought they were heading back to their room, but Li Jin carried him straight to the study instead.

He felt no anxiety at all—only relief.

As long as Li Jin was still willing to acknowledge him, he was willing to do anything.

Qin Muwen hesitated before softly saying, “Ah Jin, I was wrong.”

Li Jin’s jaw remained tense, his expression unreadable, as if he hadn’t heard those words at all.

If not for the fact that Qin Muwen could hear his heartbeat quicken slightly, he might have been fooled by Li Jin’s impassive demeanor.

Li Jin walked straight to the study and set Qin Muwen down on the desk.

The desk was made by Uncle Dahe, crafted from high-quality wood—likely materials that Chen Xiran’s family had discarded. In any case, it was extremely sturdy.

It was also quite large. Even with Qin Muwen sitting on one side, there was still plenty of space left.

At a height of around eighty centimeters, Qin Muwen’s feet dangled in the air, unable to touch the ground.

He wanted to climb down, but Li Jin stopped him.

Li Jin took out a piece of paper and picked up a brush, deliberately writing while avoiding eye contact with him.

Qin Muwen, however, kept his eyes on the words. Li Jin already knew that he could read, which meant he was writing this for him to see.

"On the tenth day of the seventh month in the Year of Xin-Chou, Qin Muwen, husband of Li Jin from Hongyan Village, resolves to correct the following mistakes, recorded as follows:

Each day, he shall not stand for more than two hours.

When his husband instructs him to rest, he must comply.

If he is feeling troubled, he must not bottle it up.

He must drink soup and eat vegetables and must not reduce his food intake.

Failure to comply will result in punishment, the specifics of which shall be at his husband's discretion."

At first, Qin Muwen saw the beginning and thought Li Jin was writing a divorce letter. His face immediately turned deathly pale, and he nearly fell to his knees.

But after reading the latter points, his heart swelled with warmth.

Li Jin had intended for Qin Muwen to read through it carefully. But just as he set down the brush, the young man threw himself into his arms, hugging his shoulders tightly and refusing to let go.

Qin Muwen carried no trace of the artificial fragrances worn by the men and women Li Jin had encountered in his past life. He only smelled of flour, tofu, and seasonings—the scent of everyday life.

Some might find it unremarkable, but to Li Jin, it was indescribably comforting.

Li Jin thought to himself: Has this boy learned to be manipulative? Does he think that hugging me will erase his mistake?

But as he was held tightly, Li Jin’s only remaining thought was: I’ll forgive him this time. But I should hang this family rule on the wall to remind him at all times.

So, Li Jin stuck the paper next to the portrait of their baby, and Qin Muwen’s face turned redder than ever.

But he said nothing in protest—he would be obedient from now on and ensure he never got punished.

Otherwise, his poor heart wouldn't be able to take it.

That evening, Li Jin wrapped the remaining dumplings himself. When they were steamed and ready, only the first few, neatly pleated dumplings made by Qin Muwen looked proper. The rest, made by Li Jin, were round and puffy—more like steamed buns than dumplings.

Li Jin handed the well-shaped buns to the young man and said, "Eat this one."

But Qin Muwen insisted on eating the ones Li Jin had made.

"These taste better."

Seeing how satisfied he was while eating, Li Jin didn’t force him to change his mind.

The young man sneaked a glance at him, and for some reason, his face suddenly flushed with embarrassment.

To cover it up, he lowered his head and continued eating the buns.

The author's note: 

[Qin Muwen: What is the punishment? Thinking about it... I suddenly feel a little excited.]

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