Her Husband is Both Delicate and Fierce; The Little Stutterer Coaxes Him Through Tears - Chapter 3

During dinner, Yu Tingzheng lived in constant fear that Yu Chengfeng would tattle on him. He spent the entire meal on edge, but even after Chengfeng had eaten his fill, not a single word was mentioned.

Since his brother stayed silent, Tingzheng no longer feared punishment. He happily went to the courtyard to wash up. As the icy well water splashed against his face, he let out a refreshing sigh of relief.

He noticed the reflection of the moon in the well was exceptionally round. Looking up at the night sky, the moon above was even rounder, larger, and brighter. He craned his neck back for so long that his body suddenly swayed uncontrollably; nearly tumbling into the well, he hurriedly grabbed the stone rim to steady himself.

Heart pounding, Yu Tingzheng retreated to the bedroom. Yu Chengfeng, who was busy transcribing a book by candlelight, jolted as if startled. He let out a breath of relief when he saw it was only his brother.

“Get in here, quickly!” Chengfeng snapped irritably. “And lock the door.”

Yu Tingzheng closed the door, tidied his thin bedding, kicked off his wooden clogs, and lay down on his straw mat.

He was nearly asleep when he heard Chengfeng speak: “You aren’t allowed to tell Mother and Father that I was punished with transcription. If you do, I’ll tell them you went to the academy to steal lessons.”

Yu Tingzheng’s eyes snapped open in alarm.

“Did you hear me?” Chengfeng threatened. “If you dare say a word, I’ll make them sell you. You can’t read anyway, and you’ll never bring honor to our ancestors. Staying here is just a waste of rice.”

During the famine years, his parents truly had considered selling Yu Tingzheng. However, because he stuttered, was “disobedient,” and cried at every turn, the human trafficker had brought him back after just one day. At the time, the neighbors had pointed fingers and gossiped, forcing his parents to keep him under social pressure.

But things were different now. Many families in the village were selling their children for silver; it had become a common trend, and no one gossiped anymore. Moreover, Yu Tingzheng was so useless that selling him would at least bring in some money, whereas keeping him was a drain on their resources.

Chengfeng knew he was the apple of his parents’ eye. With just a few whispers, he could make sure Tingzheng had no place left in this home.

Yu Tingzheng understood. The only reason Chengfeng hadn’t told on him was out of fear of their father, Yu Xiangbo. Their father was a strict disciplinarian who didn’t hesitate to use a wooden switch on a disobedient child.

Yu Xiangbo placed all his hopes on Chengfeng passing the imperial examinations and becoming a high official. Though the father was illiterate, he visited the academy whenever he could to check on his son’s progress and watched him like a hawk during study sessions at home. He bragged to everyone about how brilliant his son was to save face.

In contrast, Yu Xiangbo rarely interacted with Tingzheng. By the time the father woke, Tingzheng was already in the fields. By the time the father returned from town, it was late, and he would go straight to bed. Sometimes, father and son didn’t exchange a single word for days.

As long as Chengfeng didn’t reveal his secret about the academy, Tingzheng was willing to agree to anything. He gave a light nod of affirmation.

Just as he was closing his eyes again, Chengfeng called out once more. Yu Tingzheng opened his eyes just in time to see a heavy book flying toward his face. He barely dodged it, watching the thick volume hit the mat with a thud. If it had hit his head, he surely would have bled.

“Help me finish transcribing this book, or don’t even think about sleeping. If you don’t do it, I’ll tell them to sell you.” Chengfeng dropped his brush with an arrogant flourish, stood up, and stretched as he walked toward the bed. “My arm is sore from writing.”

Yu Tingzheng stared blankly. “I. I don’t know the characters. I don’t know how to write.”

“Even if you can’t read or write, you have eyes, don’t you? Just copy it stroke for stroke. Understand?” Chengfeng didn’t care. He climbed into bed and settled in comfortably. “Do it carefully. If the teacher rejects it because of mistakes, you’ll have to redo the whole thing.”

How can I finish such a thick book? Tingzheng wondered. But if he didn’t, he truly might be sold.

Accepting his fate, he crawled up and sat at Chengfeng’s desk. It took him a long time just to find where his brother had left off. With great effort, he began to copy the characters stroke by stroke.

After copying two pages, his eyelids felt like lead. He slapped his cheeks to wake himself up and continued. On the bed, Chengfeng was sleeping soundly, though he was a restless sleeper scratching, kicking, and snoring so loudly the roof tiles seemed to vibrate.

Yu Tingzheng transcribed from sunset until dawn. When Chengfeng woke, he was startled to see his brother still there. “You’re still writing?”

“Not, finished yet.” Yu Tingzheng’s eyes were half-closed, with dark circles bruising the skin beneath them. He had almost lost consciousness, yet his hand was still moving.

He had worked all night and finished less than a third. He still had to work in the fields soon, and with no time during the day, he estimated it would take two more nights of no sleep.

Chengfeng snatched the papers away. He hadn’t actually expected the idiot to finish it in one night the teacher hadn’t set such a tight deadline, but seeing the “idiot” actually follow orders made him smirk.

However, when he looked at the pages, the words died in his throat.

What on earth is this?

He didn’t recognize a single word. He looked at the book and realized Yu Tingzheng had been holding it upside down. He suspiciously turned the paper around, and only then could he decipher it.

This person had spent the entire night transcribing the characters upside down.

Chengfeng was floored by this level of stupidity. He muttered “Moron,” snatched the book away, and told him to continue that night. Yu Tingzheng didn’t even process what was said; he only knew he didn’t have to write anymore. His head dropped, and he fell asleep instantly against the desk.

His sleep was fitful. He was terrified his mother would scream at him to go to work, so he kept an ear out for the door. In his dreams, his mother stood in the doorway, shrieking at him for sleeping and not feeding the livestock. Tingzheng’s shoulder gave a violent jerk, knocking the brush to the floor. He woke in a daze, only to realize the shouting wasn’t a dream, Madam Jiang truly was calling for him from outside.

“Little Zheng! Guests have arrived! Get out here, now!”

Guests?

Yu Tingzheng scrambled up, threw on his wooden clogs, and rushed out of the room.

A crowd had gathered outside, with villagers lining the courtyard to watch the spectacle. Uncle Jiang, the auntie, and Qiao Xie were all there. In the center stood a refined lady and the Young Master.

The Yu family was a small, insignificant household in Yanti Village; Yu Tingzheng had never seen such a grand scene. He stood there, utterly dumbfounded.

Pei Qingyu hated being stared at like a monkey in a zoo. He frowned irritably and looked over, only to freeze when he saw the boy emerging from the house. His pale, jade-like fingertips pressed against the hem of his robe, as if he had a premonition of what was coming.

When Madam Jiang saw Tingzheng, she pulled him with a smile toward Madam Pei and Pei Qingyu. “Madam Pei, Young Master Pei, this is my eldest son.”

Madam Pei swept her gaze over Yu Tingzheng, assessing him before asking with a kind smile, “How old is Little Zheng?”

Yu Tingzheng looked at her nervously, his voice trembling. “Fif…fifteen.”

He was the same age as Pei Qingyu. Yet the boy was so thin and small that he looked no older than twelve or thirteen.

“Yu’er is the same age as you,” Madam Pei said, pulling her son forward. “Since we have just arrived, Yu’er lacks a companion to talk and play with. Little Zheng, would you be willing to be Yu’er’s companion?”

Yu Tingzheng stared blankly at the Young Master standing before him.

He really is so beautiful, Tingzheng thought. His features were exquisite, and his skin was as white and tender as silk. Although his eyes were cold and his lips lacked color, he was so stunning it was impossible to look away.

And he’s so tall. Standing in front of him, Tingzheng had to crane his neck to look up at him.

And he smells so good. A faint, medicinal fragrance drifted into Tingzheng’s nose, a scent he found himself loving instantly.

Yu Tingzheng stared like an idiot, his mouth almost hanging open.

Pei Qingyu looked down at him with indifference.

This person, the young master thought, is not only a stutterer, but an idiot. I certainly do not need a companion who is both.