Chapter 27

Chapter 27: Stepbrother
“It’s too early to talk about that,” Tang Yi Chen said evenly. “You can all see my home has a pile of things to handle. I truly don’t have the mind to think about anything else. We’ll talk about the future when it becomes the future.”

The villagers’ excitement dimmed as the reality of the Tang household returned to them: an injured father, younger siblings still small, an empty house, and endless work. A scholar was a fine dream, but dreams didn’t cook rice. Who knew whether he’d even pass? And even if he did, supporting him would drain the whole family dry.

They drifted away, interest fading into muttered gossip. The lane cleared.

Tang Yi Chen stepped into the yard and closed the gate behind him.

Tang Da Fu was still sitting on the ground, shoulders hunched. The moment his eldest son entered, he lowered his head, face flushed with shame, like a man caught naked.

In recent years, Tang Da Fu had grown more and more afraid of Tang Yi Chen. Yet Tang Yi Chen rarely interfered. Most of the time he stayed at the private school and came home only on breaks, so the family’s father-son relationship had been allowed to remain—barely—intact.

Tang Yi Chen walked over, bent, and lifted Tang Da Fu with ease.

He carried him as if he weighed nothing, arms under his back and knees.

Qin Hui Yin turned her face away at once, teeth biting down hard. Her expression twisted.

“What’s wrong?” Li Tao Hua noticed and leaned closer, suspicious.

Qin Hui Yin shook her head quickly. “Nothing. I was thinking… how to earn that silver.”

It was too ridiculous to stare at. She was afraid if she looked one second longer, she’d laugh. In a moment like this, if she burst out laughing, the whole family would think she’d been frightened out of her mind.

Tang Yi Chen set Tang Da Fu onto a stool.

Li Tao Hua’s anger found a new target immediately. “Tang Yi Chen—what are you going to do about this? You’re the eldest son of the Tang family. You should share your father’s burdens.”

Tang Yi Chen sat beside Tang Da Fu, posture straight, eyes calm. “After the accident, Father was unconscious for several days. I was busy. When I saw he wasn’t in immediate danger, I returned to the private school.” His gaze didn’t waver. “That was my negligence. My fault. I should have found out what happened sooner and prepared in advance. Then we wouldn’t be at their mercy today.”

Tang Da Fu stared at him, stunned.

Tang Yi Chen was only 14, yet the authority between his brows made Tang Da Fu feel as if he were being lectured by a stern elder. Even facing his own father, Tang Da Fu had never felt this cowed.

Tang Yi Chen’s voice was still in the middle of changing; the seriousness in it sometimes cracked in a way that should have looked awkward. But the Tang family had long learned to turn to Elder Brother whenever something went wrong. Being scolded by him felt… normal.

“Father,” Tang Yi Chen said, “tell us what happened. From the argument to the injury to borrowing silver for treatment. Don’t leave anything out.”

Tang Da Fu glanced at Li Tao Hua, guilt twisting his face. “I was working at the Chen family dyehouse. I started as a temporary worker, but I did well, so the steward promoted me to a regular assistant. That day I was working as usual. Su Li—one of the men working with me—ruined a piece of cloth we’d just dyed. I scolded him. We argued. Somehow we ended up fighting.”

His throat bobbed. “I hit him hard. Split his head. He shoved me, and a wooden drying rack beside us fell—smashed straight onto my leg.”

He closed his eyes, breath unsteady. “It was chaos. I couldn’t feel anything except pain. Later the steward and Boss Chen came. They hired a doctor. They said Su Li hurt his head—if it couldn’t be treated, he’d become a fool. As for me… my leg was too badly injured. I’d lost too much blood. The doctor said I needed ginseng to keep me alive.”

Tang Da Fu’s hands clenched in his lap. “Boss Chen asked if I wanted to live. Of course I said yes. He said it would cost 50 taels. I was in so much pain, and I didn’t want to die, so whatever they said, I agreed. While the doctor was treating my leg, I hurt so much I was about to pass out. They brought something for me to drink and said it was ginseng soup…”

Tang Yi Chen listened without interrupting. When Tang Da Fu finally fell silent, Tang Yi Chen nodded once. “I understand.”

Li Tao Hua’s face had been tightening with every word. Now it snapped. “So what do you plan to do? If you’d come back a little earlier, you would’ve seen how they threatened us. They forced my Yin Yin to sign a contract. If we can’t repay 50 taels in one month, they’ll take my daughter away. That old lecher—so old and still eyeing my girl. Tang Yi Chen, this is trouble your father caused. Don’t you dare drag my daughter into it.”

Tang Yi Chen’s eyes chilled. “Since you’ve married my father, you’re his wife. If you cut ties now, aren’t you afraid you’ll chill his heart?”

Li Tao Hua lifted her chin, righteous as a judge. “I married your father, yes. But we agreed back then—plain as day. I can’t stand hardship or humiliation, and my daughter can’t either. So if there are problems, don’t come to me and my daughter. I brought her when I married him, but not to suffer with him.”

Tang Yi Chen looked at Tang Da Fu with a faint, cutting mockery, as if to say: This is the woman you were desperate to marry.

Tang Da Fu’s face turned red, shame spreading up his neck.

He had known what kind of woman Li Tao Hua was before he married her. Ever since the injury, she hadn’t given him a kind look. More than once she’d threatened to leave. He knew. He just couldn’t let go.

He only hated that he lacked the ability to give her a good life.

Back when she was with Song Yi, she hadn’t suffered at all. If Song Yi hadn’t died, it would never have been Tang Da Fu’s turn.

He was useless. He dragged everyone down.

Qin Hui Yin spoke before the room could sink into bitterness. “There was a young shop assistant beside Chen Zhong Yi today—tall and thin. When he handed me the contract, I noticed his handwriting was the same as the IOU Uncle Tang signed.”

Tang Yi Chen’s gaze shifted to her, sharper now.

“If you want to dig into what really happened,” Qin Hui Yin continued, “start with him.”

Tang Yi Chen’s mouth tilted by a fraction. “How did you know I want to get to the bottom of this?”

“You asked for details,” Qin Hui Yin said. “That isn’t idle curiosity.” She paused, then laid it out cleanly. “We have two choices. First: work hard, earn money, repay 50 taels. Even if it’s a trap, without evidence we can only swallow it. Second: investigate and prove it was a setup, that the 50 taels was extortion, and we don’t have to pay. There’s a third possibility—Chen Zhong Yi really did pay 50 taels, the ginseng really was worth that, and Uncle Tang truly needed it. Then we compensate him at the proper price. But after what we saw today…” She didn’t finish. She didn’t need to.

For the first time, Tang Yi Chen studied her seriously.

She was calm.

This was her life on the line, and yet she spoke as if she were discussing the weather—steady, measured, certain it wouldn’t crush her.