Chapter 81

Chapter 81: Human Hearts

Song Rui Ze reached the tent and raised a hand to lift the flap—

—and froze.

A voice floated out from inside, clear and sweet, light as a bird call.

“Dam Foreman Yang, your calligraphy is truly good. People say handwriting reflects the person. Just from your writing, I can tell you’re a decisive leader.”

Another breath, another stream of words, bright and warm as sunlight. “If only my older brother were half as capable as you. Look at him—clumsy with words, clumsy in everything, and not likable at all. How could he compare to Dam Foreman Yang? So many people listen to you. You manage everything, you keep your men in line. It’s impressive.”

Song Rui Ze’s jaw tightened.

Then her voice went briskly practical. “My family made these ourselves. Everything was picked from the mountains, so it’s not worth much. But you have so many mouths to feed here—how could anyone possibly take care of everyone’s meals properly?” She sounded genuinely concerned. “So I made some seasonings. This chopped mushroom and minced meat sauce can be mixed with rice or noodles, or stirred into vegetables to add flavor.”

“And this is braised meat.” A pause, like she was holding it out. “Have a taste. If you like it, I’ll bring more next time.”

Her cheer didn’t dim. “Dam Foreman Yang, don’t you have rest days here? If everyone keeps working nonstop, won’t they only be able to reunite with their families once the dam is finished? You have to manage so many people—like being both father and mother. That must be exhausting!”

Even men who weren’t good with words found it hard to stay cold-faced under that kind of relentless sunshine.

Dam Foreman Yang’s laugh rumbled from inside. “You really can talk, girl. You haven’t stopped since you came in.” His tone turned curious. “Song Rui Ze is really your brother? How can he be nothing like you?”

“One takes after Father, one takes after Mother!” Qin Hui Yin chirped.

Then, as if she’d remembered herself, she lowered her voice—except she still sounded bold. “Uncle Yang, my older brother is stubborn as a mule. If he offended you, could you please just treat it like a fart and let it go?”

Dam Foreman Yang choked on a laugh. “Ha! You’re an interesting girl.”

Song Rui Ze stood outside the tent with dust on his skin and a faint, uncomfortable heat creeping up his neck.

The tent flap snapped open and the man who had called for him stepped out. He spotted Song Rui Ze and scowled. “If you’re here, go in. Do you need someone to invite you?”

Song Rui Ze already knew why he’d been called. That didn’t mean he wanted to step inside.

He looked down at himself and went briefly blank.

He was bare-chested, his upper body fully exposed, skin smeared with dust and sweat. Even if they weren’t siblings by blood—what kind of older brother stood half-dressed in front of a young lady?

His scalp prickled. Without meaning to, his feet edged backward.

The man’s patience snapped. He shoved Song Rui Ze into the tent. “Your sister came to see you. What are you dragging your feet for? Hurry up. We still have work to do.”

Song Rui Ze stumbled inside.

Dam Foreman Yang and Qin Hui Yin both looked up.

Dam Foreman Yang’s face darkened at once.

Qin Hui Yin’s eyes flicked over the scene—over Song Rui Ze’s stripped torso, over the foreman’s expression—and something like understanding flashed through her gaze.

Earlier, she’d used the yamen runner’s connection to get in front of Dam Foreman Yang. The moment he learned she was Song Rui Ze’s sister, his mood had soured. He only hadn’t kicked her out because the runner had personally brought her. As soon as the runner left, Dam Foreman Yang had made an excuse about not receiving outsiders and tried to send her away.

So she’d turned on her smile and poured on flattery until the edges of his temper softened.

Back then, she’d suspected Song Rui Ze had offended this man. Now, seeing them together, she knew she’d guessed right.

Song Rui Ze really didn’t know how to deal with people.

No wonder his path was full of “monsters.”

Tang Yi Chen’s path had “monsters” too, but every time he met a small one, some benefactor appeared to pull him out. Song Rui Ze had only his own stubbornness to meet each blow head-on.

Qin Hui Yin lifted another jar from her bag and set it in front of Dam Foreman Yang with both hands. She popped the lid.

The rich aroma drifted out, warm and savory, sliding straight into the foreman’s nose.

Dam Foreman Yang inhaled and nearly swallowed.

When he looked at Song Rui Ze again, the brat didn’t seem quite so unbearable. At least the boy was lucky enough to have a sister who knew how to behave.

Besides, he’d tormented Song Rui Ze these past days and the boy hadn’t resisted. He finished his quota every time. That alone had cooled a lot of Dam Foreman Yang’s anger.

“You siblings haven’t seen each other in a long time.” Dam Foreman Yang waved a hand, magnanimous in the glow of good food. “Go find somewhere to talk.”

Qin Hui Yin’s smile turned dazzling. “Uncle Yang, you’re so kind and broad-minded. No wonder, with so many people here, you’re the Dam Foreman. Everyone respects you. You’ll surely rise higher.”

“Keep your voice down.” Dam Foreman Yang’s mouth lifted. “It’s rest time anyway. Talk slowly. No need to rush back.”

“Thank you, Uncle Yang.” Qin Hui Yin bobbed her head. “Next time I’ll bring an even tastier sauce so you can change things up.”

“All right, all right.” He shooed them. “Go on.”

Outside the tent, Qin Hui Yin handed Song Rui Ze the back basket.

“These are all for you,” she said, voice dropping into something more normal. “There are three packets of braised meat—share them with friends you’re close to. The other jars are sauces. Add a little when you eat. It’ll make your food taste like something.”

She hesitated, then added quickly, “We don’t have pottery jars at home. Next time I’ll use those so they keep longer. Don’t store these too long. Share them—don’t hoard them.”

Song Rui Ze didn’t move. His eyes stayed on her, flat and hard as stone.

Qin Hui Yin’s smile wobbled. “You… you do have friends, right?”

Still nothing.

She shifted the basket slightly as if it were heavier than it was and frowned, putting misery into her face with skill. “It’s heavy. Can you take it? I’ve carried it so long my shoulders are rubbed raw.”

Song Rui Ze reached out and took it.

The misery vanished as if it had never existed. Qin Hui Yin flashed him a bright grin. “I lied. Third Grandpa drove the ox cart and dropped me at the gate. It was only the last few steps. I’m not that delicate.”

Song Rui Ze studied her as if she were a riddle that refused to solve itself. His voice came out low. “Why?”

“Why so many whys?” Qin Hui Yin tilted her head. “Do you think there’s anything I could possibly want from you?”

Actually, there was—but she couldn’t tell him.

This man’s guard was the thickest wall she’d ever seen. He wasn’t someone who trusted easily.

And even if she told him, he wouldn’t believe her.

If she said she was treating him well not only because he’d once been the villain she’d pitied when she read the book, but also because she wanted to change the cannon fodder fate waiting for her and her mother…

If he didn’t believe it, he’d think she was crazy and ignore her even more. If he did believe it…

He might kill the mother and daughter first and send them to an early grave.

The protagonist had protagonist plot armor. The villain had villain plot armor. She—tiny cannon fodder—just needed to cling to their thighs and survive by turning it all into one big “loving family” with the male lead and the villain.

Song Rui Ze watched her, thinking, and still couldn’t see what he had that the mother and daughter could want.

If it was for money, he knew they were doing business—and doing well. They’d earned plenty. The little silver he made hunting couldn’t be worth this much careful effort.

So if her kindness truly had no profit in it… that was the scariest part of all.

He didn’t seem to need this kind of extra concern.

“Song Rui Ze.” Qin Hui Yin’s voice softened, not pleading but steady. “You don’t have to think so much. I’m good to you—you just accept it. I don’t need you to repay me.”

After a long moment, he lowered his gaze. “Fine.”

He also wanted to see how long she planned to keep performing this “deep sibling affection” play.

Tomorrow. The day after.

Once she got tired of it, she’d stop showing up in front of him.