The Grievance Between Him and the Fool
But to expect Jiang Ji to soften his words?
Impossible.
He remembered too clearly the ugliness of this husband of his—before the wedding and after.
After the New Year, when Ye Daji and Ye Liang had come to help plant potatoes, “Ye Li” had followed along.
They were already betrothed and due to marry that year. It was not entirely improper for a betrothed ge’er to visit with his father and brother; villagers were not overly strict about such matters.
Yet after lunch, “Ye Li” had called him into the back courtyard.
Hands on hips, chin raised, he had demanded that the betrothal gift be raised from one liang to five—otherwise, there would be no wedding.
The two families had agreed to keep wedding expenses within five liang total. Everything was to be done as simply as possible.
Because in autumn he would travel to the prefectural city for examinations—and he had not yet saved enough for the journey.
Studying cost money. Tuition, brushes, ink, paper—all required silver.
The Ye family paid half his annual tuition. The rest, along with daily expenses, he was meant to manage himself.
But when he was younger, he could not.
His second uncle and the clan head had stepped in, lending him silver bit by bit over the years—more than eight liang in total.
And yet that day, “Ye Li” had opened his mouth and demanded five liang for the betrothal gift.
Worse still, after issuing his ultimatum, he had complained bitterly.
It had been Jiang Ji’s father who insisted on saving someone during the flood, “Ye Li” had said—rushing in despite lacking the ability, and losing his life in the process.
As a result, the Ye family had tightened their belts to support the Jiang household like oxen, eating dry food only sparingly at night.
Now, just to scrape together travel funds, even the wedding had to be reduced to bare simplicity.
Why?
He wanted proper betrothal gifts. He wanted to be married in glory.
Jiang Ji’s fists had clenched so tightly that his knuckles whitened.
He had nearly gone to the front courtyard to call off the engagement on the spot.
His expression must have been terrifying, because “Ye Li” had immediately faltered and fled.
Later, after cooling down, Jiang Ji faced reality.
He decided to sell one mu of inferior land.
He knew it was short-sighted—killing the hen that laid the eggs.
But he had no other choice.
The Ye family was poor. His uncle’s household was poor. He could not bring himself to borrow further from the clan head.
Relief was for emergencies—not chronic poverty.
In the end, he sold the land.
Part of the silver would fund his journey.
Part would serve as the five-liang betrothal gift.
But he set conditions.
If he paid five liang, “Ye Li” must treat his two younger brothers kindly and manage household affairs so he could focus on his studies.
He had known Ye Li was unlikely to be virtuous.
Yet silver weighed on the hand. Having taken it, surely he would shoulder some responsibility.
Ignoring the Ye family’s objections, Jiang Ji delivered the five liang.
And what had followed?
“Ye Li” took the silver—and did nothing.
He abused Jiang Mai. He tormented Jiang Ya.
As if insulting his father and mistreating his brothers were not enough, he had grievances with Jiang Ji personally as well.
They had only spent two days together—wedding day and the day after.
Yet Ye Li had not shown him a single pleasant expression.
He had complained that the house was shabby, that Jiang Ji was incompetent, even saying that if he failed to pass the examinations, he should return part of the Ye family’s tuition contributions.
Jiang Ji could endure barbs aimed at himself.
But the humiliation of his father and the cruelty toward his brothers—
That he could not yet set aside.
Still, for Ye Liang’s sake, he inclined his head.
“I will,” he said quietly.
Inwardly, he added:
I will try to tolerate him.
But I cannot promise success.
Ye Liang brightened. “Good, good! That’s enough for me. Eat before the soup cools.”
Jiang Ji smiled faintly and lowered his gaze to his bowl.
The others turned their attention to the meal.
The feast truly was tempting.
Bread dipped in soup, bones gnawed clean, bites of garlic-sautéed pork—
It was satisfying in a way the Jiang household had not known for years.
—
After the meal, Jiang Ji took Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya to gather firewood.
Ye Li did not rest.
He ladled out the remaining bone broth and began frying tofu puffs.
Because of the long stewing earlier, he started later than usual.
He also fried more than before. By the time seventeen or eighteen jin of finished puffs were ready and Ye Liang set off with the basket, the sun was already tilting westward.
“Take a cart back,” Ye Li urged.
On the road between Baxian Town and Beiyang County, many made a living hauling passengers. Even at dusk, ox-carts and mule-carts waited by the gate.
But the fare was steep.
Seventeen li from the county to Darong Village cost three wen.
Ye Liang could not bear it.
Walking seventeen li was easy.
Earning three wen? Harder than reaching the heavens.
He agreed aloud—but once outside the gate, he chose to walk.
Ye Li had expected as much.
Their foundations were too thin.
It came down to one thing—
They needed more money.
—
That evening, Ye Li poured twenty jin of soybeans into a basin and soaked them.
Twenty jin meant nearly an hour at the mill.
But it did not matter now.
The strong laborer had returned.
Grinding once would leave him drenched in sweat.
It was nearly the fourth lunar month—already warming.
Bathing outdoors risked chills.
Fortunately, the Jiang household still had a wooden bathing tub from better days, though it had gathered dust.
He scrubbed it thoroughly with soap solution.
Just as he finished, Jiang Ji returned—carrying a dead tree on his shoulder.
Jiang Mai and Jiang Ya usually managed twenty jin of dry wood.
Jiang Ji had brought an entire trunk.
Ye Li felt satisfied.
Yes. A proper laborer.
As Jiang Ji took up the axe to split it, Ye Li entered the kitchen to prepare dinner.
He would rise at midnight; he needed to eat early and sleep.
The remaining bone broth was extended with tofu and water, seasoned lightly.
He reheated leftover garlic pork and corn cakes.
By the time the meal was ready, night had fallen.
He lit the oil lamp and called the three brothers in.
Without Ye Liang’s cheerful mediation, and with the day’s excitement already recounted during wood-gathering, the table felt quiet.
Ye Li did not speak.
Jiang Ji remained silent.
Jiang Mai sipped his soup, dark eyes flicking between his elder brother and brother-in-law.
Jiang Ya held a bowl nearly as large as his face, drinking intently.
When he finished, he gave a satisfied hiccup and patted his round belly.
He wished they could drink this every day.
But there was no money.
The wages he and Mai earned had to be saved for Elder Brother’s examination journey.
Still…
He glanced at Ye Li.
He wanted another bowl someday.
Softly, he asked, “Li-ge… can we have bone soup again?”
Ye Li smiled. “Of course.”
Before Jiang Ya could say more, Jiang Mai interjected, “Bones are expensive.”
“I know,” Jiang Ya said quickly. “I was just asking.”
The words tugged at Ye Li’s heart.
“Then we’ll buy just two bones tomorrow,” he said lightly. “That won’t cost much.”
Across the table, Jiang Ji’s chopsticks paused.
He lifted his gaze ever so slightly.
Had he heard correctly?
So indulgent toward Jiang Ya?
Jiang Ya shook his head earnestly. “Even two cost a lot.”
Then he beamed. “Thank you, Li-ge! Today was because of you!”
“You little thing…” Ye Li felt both amused and tender.
He set down his chopsticks and held out his arms. “Come here.”
Jiang Ya blinked in surprise, then looked to Jiang Mai.
He still remembered his brother’s warnings.
But Jiang Mai did not object.
And Elder Brother had not forbidden it either.
So he hopped down and walked the two short steps to Ye Li.
Ye Li ruffled his hair first. “Why are you so good?”
Then he pulled him into his arms and hugged him firmly.
Jiang Ya stiffened at first.
He had never been this close to his brother-in-law.
But Ye Li only held him, rubbing his small back, praising him as the most obedient, most sensible child.
Gradually, Jiang Ya relaxed.
His cheeks flushed faintly.
He was not the most sensible.
He had been greedy enough to ask about bone soup again.
Across the table, Jiang Ji watched openly now.
Ye Li’s smile was genuine.
Jiang Ya’s eyes shone.
When Jiang Ji had been that age, he had often nestled in his mother’s embrace like this.
But Jiang Ya had never known such indulgence.
Their mother had died early.
Jiang Ya had grown up in their uncle’s household.
Uncle was stern. Mai had not suffered much—but Ya had heard many harsh words.
Their aunt was kind, but once Ya understood she was not his birth mother, he no longer dared to cling to her, fearing he would be a burden.
And now—
Not even ten days since the fool had changed—
Jiang Ya was willing to lean into him.
The grievance of cruelty toward his brothers—
How could Jiang Ji continue to cling to it…?
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