The window, with a hole punched through it, had been crookedly nailed over with several planks of wood, doing little to keep out the wind outside, which howled like ghosts and wolves. The dancing flames in the fire pit cast the whole room in flickering light and shadow.

After a strange stretch of silence, Xie Zheng spoke. “I was overthinking it. We’ll do it your way.”

Fan Changyu hurriedly shook her head. The money house’s people had come looking for her to collect a debt earlier that day, and this man had happened to see it. If she really went and put a sack over Fan Da’s head, he might well start thinking she was some sort of vicious criminal.

With a touch of embarrassment, she said, “If there were another way, I certainly wouldn’t take this risk. If things were to come to light, I’d only end up in trouble with the authorities again.”

Xie Zheng lowered his eyes slightly. Even with the firelight reflected in his pitch-black eyes, there was not a trace of warmth in them. Then he suddenly said, “If you’re not afraid of the trouble, it’d be simpler to just finish Fan Da off.”

His voice was cool and indifferent, as though he were not the same man who had just been talking about teaching her the law and taking the matter to court.

Fan Changyu naturally understood what he meant by “finish him off”. Gooseflesh immediately rose along her arms. Her almond-shaped eyes widened as she stared at him.

“K-kill him?”

Seeing her reaction, Xie Zheng’s thick lashes traced a faint curve in the firelight. He turned his gaze toward the roaring fire and said, in a tone that sounded not the least bit like a joke, “I was joking.”

His voice was lazy, carrying a hint of careless nonchalance.

If anyone had dared wrong him to this extent, that person would have lost their head long ago.

He had thought that teaching her the Great Yin Code was the best course of action he could come up with from her perspective. Her temperament was more headstrong than he had anticipated, but even so, she could hardly be called ruthless.

As Fan Changyu’s suspicious gaze roamed over his handsome face, he raised his eyes halfway and met her stare head-on. “Shall I teach you the Great Yin Code now?”

Fan Changyu immediately forgot the embarrassment of being caught sneaking glances at him. She pulled a long face and nodded miserably.

She had never liked studying from a young age. Even looking at written characters gave her a headache, and the fact that she could read at all was thanks to her mother forcing her to learn with a bamboo switch.

The four treasures of the study were all in the south room, so Fan Changyu went to Xie Zheng’s room. For better illumination, she specially adjusted the wick of the oil lamp on the writing desk, turning it up a little brighter.

There were no books on the Great Yin Code in the house, so Xie Zheng committed several relevant statutes to memory on the spot and had her read and memorize them.

Since this concerned whether she could keep her family’s property, Fan Changyu naturally put her whole heart into studying. Unfortunately, whether it was because the night had grown late or because the statutes and legal provisions on the page were simply too soporific, her upper and lower eyelids soon began to fight as she recited them.

Xie Zheng sat nearby in a bamboo chair with his eyes closed, apparently dozing, yet he seemed to have eyes growing out of his forehead. The moment Fan Changyu’s head began bobbing like a chick pecking at rice, he lifted his eyelids and knocked twice on the writing desk with his knuckles.

Fan Changyu instantly woke with a start. Clutching those few sheets of paper, she yawned again and again, so sleepy that tears had squeezed from the corners of her eyes. Forcing her eyelids to stay open, she continued reciting, “<Great Yin Code · Household Regulations · Extinct Household Chapter>, Article Seventeen: ‘For an extinct household, if there are sons, the eldest shall inherit; if there are no sons, an heir shall be established’…”

户绝(hù jué) refers to a household in which there is no male heir/descendant to continue the family line, often because the family has no surviving sons

“If the household is already extinct, where does ‘if there are sons, the eldest shall inherit’ come from?” came a voice beside her, cold as ice.

Fan Changyu gave a little shudder the moment she heard his voice. She was like a student caught dozing during the morning lesson at school by her teacher. Barely managing to rouse herself, she looked over the statutes he had written for her and continued reciting, her eyes half-closed:

“‘For an extinct household, an heir shall be selected and established. If no heir has been selected, the parents and siblings shall divide the estate, while providing for any unmarried daughters. If an extinct household takes in a live-in husband, the son-in-law shall have no share in its property, while the daughter shall inherit it…’”

Xie Zheng spoke at just the right moment. “According to this provision, the entirety of the property your parents left behind should rightfully go to you. But your grandfather and grandmother are still alive, and both are ill. Your eldest uncle, meanwhile, is idle and good-for-nothing. When you go to the county yamen three days from now, if they invoke the <Great Yin Code · Book of Filial Piety>, then at least half of the property your parents left behind will have to be allocated to your grandparents. Since your grandparents have never separated their household from your eldest uncle’s, that money will ultimately end up in his hands anyway.”

The drowsiness was driven from Fan Changyu’s mind by more than half at once. She frowned, her voice somewhat strained. “Then… what if I bring my grandparents here and support them myself?”

Xie Zheng gave her a look. “Are you close to them?”

Fan Changyu shook her head.

Even when her parents were alive, her family had never been close to her grandparents.

When her mother had given birth to Changning, she had suffered a difficult labor and nearly died alongside the child. The physician had only barely managed to save her, and afterward warned that she would probably never be able to conceive again.

The elderly couple had come to offer their congratulations. Yet as they held Changning, still swaddled in her blankets, every other word was about how Fan Changyu’s mother had failed to give her father a son. They urged her parents to adopt a male heir from Fan Da’s family, saying that at least they would have someone to rely on when they grew old.

Fan Changyu’s parents paid them no heed. The old couple returned home and accused her mother of being jealous and unfilial, of whispering in her father’s ear day after day and trying to ensure that the Fan family would have no descendants.

Her father personally went over to the old family home to confront them. Only then did the old couple quiet down. After that, there was hardly any contact between the two families. Only during the New Year and other festivals would her father himself carry a piece of pork over for the elderly couple. He never stayed for a meal, however; he would simply put the meat down and leave.

Xie Zheng said, “According to Article Eleven of the Household and Marriage Code Supplement to the Great Yin Code, you can find neighbors from the village to testify and identify Fan Da as a habitual gambler. Then the half that would otherwise have to be allocated to your grandparents can remain under your management.”

《胤律补录·户婚律》 — I’ve rendered this as the Household and Marriage Code Supplement to the Great Yin Code. 补录 suggests an additional/supplementary collection of statutes, while 户婚律 is the section concerning household registration, family relations, marriage, and related property matters.

Fan Changyu was accustomed to speaking plainly and honestly could not make sense of all these twists and turns. Confused, she asked, “How is that any different from me supporting the old couple myself?”

Xie Zheng was silent for a moment. He pressed his fingers against his brow and patiently explained, “If you bring them here, you’ll be obligated to support them. If you keep the money in your own hands, whether you give it to them is up to you.”

Fan Changyu immediately slapped the writing desk in excitement. “That’s a good idea! A little underhanded, perhaps, but when it comes to Fan Da and his family, it’s completely deserved! How do you know so much?”

Xie Zheng glanced at the writing desk, which had been wobbling for quite some time after her single slap. He had no doubt that if she had hit it just a little harder, the entire thing might have fallen apart on the spot.

His slender fingers turned the next page of the book resting on his knees. He lied without the slightest change in expression or breath. “I’ve traveled far and wide often enough. Naturally, I’ve heard plenty of interesting anecdotes. There was once a wealthy merchant whose daughter took in a live-in husband, only for her clan relatives to try to seize her family’s property. She hired a well-known local legal advocate, and this was the solution he came up with.”

Fan Changyu sincerely praised him. “That legal advocate really was clever!”

Xie Zheng said nothing. Only the corner of his lips lifted, almost imperceptibly.

Fan Changyu gave him a guilty sidelong glance. “Um… now that we already have a way to deal with it, do I really have to memorize all this?”

Memorizing texts was a genuine headache for her. These dry, obscure laws and regulations were even more maddening than those zhi hu zhe ye passages of classical prose.

之乎者也 (zhī hū zhě yě) - Refers to the archaic particles characteristic of Classical Chinese prose. The four characters 之、乎、者、也 are all common Classical Chinese grammatical particles and are traditionally used together as a humorous shorthand for the language of old scholarly texts.

Xie Zheng said calmly, “If, in court, the other side asks which specific provision of the law you’re relying on and you can answer them, then you don’t have to memorize it.”

Fan Changyu wanted to say that he could simply accompany her to court when the time came, couldn’t he? But then she remembered the injury to his leg. If he went to court, he would have to kneel there the entire time, and that would surely be extremely bad for his injury. So she swallowed the words.

Her face scrunched up like a steamed bun as she resigned herself to continuing her recitation.

Xie Zheng, meanwhile, idly flipped through the miscellaneous book in his hands. He listened as her recitation gradually changed from a mosquito-like buzz into broken, half-mumbled muttering, and could not help lifting his eyes to look over.

The next moment, that thoroughly exhausted head of hers had already drooped onto the desk, her breathing slowly evening out.

Xie Zheng: “……”

He, the study company, was still awake, yet she, the actual student, had fallen asleep first.

陪读(péidú) often refers to a person who accompanies a student while they study, especially someone from a wealthy or influential household. For example, if a young master goes to study under a tutor, another child might be sent along as his study company. This person could: study alongside him, keep him company, help with small things, and serve as a companion rather than a formal servant.

This was the first time he had seen her sleeping from such close range. The candlelight cast a long shadow from her lashes, while a soft glow rested over her fair cheeks. Her vermilion lips were lightly pressed together, and her entire person possessed a tranquil gentleness utterly different from the lively woman she was when awake.

Yet even in her dreams, she seemed to have some worry weighing on her. Her brows were faintly drawn together, wisps of loose hair falling around her face, as though a cloud of mist lingered between her brows.

Realizing he had been staring without noticing, Xie Zheng frowned and looked away. He was just about to wake her and tell her to return to her room to rest when he heard her murmur, so faintly that it was almost inaudible,

“Mom…”

There was a nasal quality to her voice, as though she were crying.

Xie Zheng frowned and looked at her again. Her head rested on her own arm, pinning down a few strands of black hair, and beneath the candlelight her face looked even smaller—barely the size of his palm.

He had thought her thin before, but the vigorous vitality she carried had always overshadowed everything else. Now, watching her half-slumped over the desk, he suddenly realized that she was not merely thin. There was something almost fragile about her.

A strange, unfamiliar feeling suddenly stirred in his chest.

Xie Zheng stared at her, his handsome brows drawing together even more tightly.

·•—–٠✤٠—–•·

Come Mao hour (around 5-7 a.m.), Fan Changyu woke as usual. The room was pitch-dark, and the moment she sat up, her hands were numb, as were her legs.

Her memories from before sleep gradually returned, and she realized that she must have fallen asleep right there on the desk. She took out her fire striker and lit it, barely managing to illuminate the room.

The oil in the lamp on the writing desk had already burned out. She was about to find a candle when she turned her head and discovered that Xie Zheng had fallen asleep beside her too. He was even lying on part of her sleeve, and she had to give it a hard tug to free it.

The movement woke him as well.

Meeting those eyes—eyes that, the moment they opened, were pitch-black and cold as ice—Fan Changyu froze for a moment. She thought to herself that he certainly had a terrible temper upon waking.

“Did I wake you?”

He looked at her, the ferocity in his eyes quickly fading. Yet for some reason, his brows were drawn together rather tightly. A faint red mark from where he had been lying pressed against his fair, handsome cheek.

Fan Changyu said awkwardly, “You fell asleep reading too?”

He merely gave a vague “En.”

“I’m going to find a candle.”

The fire starter in her hand would not burn for long, and it provided very little light.

火折子 (huǒ zhézi) is a traditional Chinese fire-lighting device — essentially a small, portable fire starter used to carry a flame or embers

But the moment she got to her feet, the numbness in her legs had not yet faded. Her entire body immediately toppled sideways.

With a loud clatter and crash, the two of them—and their chairs—went tumbling to the floor together. The fire striker in her hand fell as well and went out upon hitting the ground.

Fan Changyu had bruised herself in several places from the fall, and the pain made her grimace. But then she remembered that there was a whole human cushion underneath her, which meant his condition could only be worse than hers. She hurriedly groped her way back to her feet and went to help him up. “How are you? Did I press on your injuries and reopen them?”

“I’m fine.” The answer came a little too reluctantly.

Clearly, he was not fine. For the next two days, he did not even get out of bed.

Fan Changyu figured Xie Zheng was probably annoyed with her. He was noticeably colder toward her these past two days, speaking to her only when necessary and avoiding seeing her whenever he could.

Even when he could not avoid her, whenever he saw her, he either refused to look at her or sat there with his brows furrowed.

Fan Changyu had already apologized. Though he kept saying he was fine, he was still quietly distancing himself from her.

Fan Changyu could not figure out why. She still had questions about some of the laws she was memorizing and had wanted to ask him, but now she no longer felt comfortable doing so.

Over the past two days, she had memorized them at home, and whenever she had a free moment at the shop, she would take out those few sheets of paper and silently recite them to herself. She had finally committed most of them to memory, and had also found several neighbors willing to serve as witnesses.

On the morning of the court hearing, she thought about Yan Zheng’s strange behavior over the past few days. In the end, she still went to the south room and said, “Your handwriting is good. If you have time today, draft the divorce agreement first. Once I’ve transferred my parents’ house and land into my name, I’ll come back and just sign it. Once your injuries are healed, you can go wherever you want.”

From the very beginning, he had made it clear that he would leave once his injuries healed. The only explanation Fan Changyu could think of now was that he was afraid she might go back on her word—that after transferring the house and land to her name, she would refuse to honor the promise she had made.

If she had him write the divorce agreement and give it to him, he would probably feel more at ease.