The whole family is insanely eavesdropping on my thoughts Chapter 631
Chapter 631: Resale
Mai Feng was gravely injured.
Wandering for so long had already left him gaunt, and the blows from the thick wooden staff had inflicted wounds that were horrifying to behold. His back was covered in bruises and gashes, and he had likely suffered internal injuries—he was even coughing up blood.
His blood was hot, scalding enough that Shan Shan flinched as he instinctively reached out.
“Mud… are you alright?” he asked anxiously, his wide eyes taking in Mai Feng’s battered form and the crimson staining his lips.
Mai Feng stirred, attempting to sit up, but the effort sent tremors of pain through his body. His face turned even paler.
“Don’t be scared, little gourd. Don’t be afraid. Brother Mai Feng is fine. I got the medicine for you,” he said, forcing a reassuring smile despite the deep furrow in his brows and the beads of cold sweat trickling down his forehead.
Shan Shan clenched his small fists. At some point, his lips had pressed into a tight line.
“Hmph… I—I don’t care about you at all!” he snapped, turning his head away to hide his emotions.
Mai Feng chuckled softly, not angered in the least. Instead, he found a bit of relief in Shan Shan’s regained spirit, a rare flicker of joy lighting his weary eyes.
The cellar door creaked open once again. A scowling woman shoved the door wide, releasing the pungent aroma of medicinal herbs mixed with a faint, burnt scent.
“Take it and get lost!” she spat, shooting them a venomous glare before slamming the heavy stone door shut once more.
The sale was happening that very night—she didn’t want any of the goods dying before then. She settled for merely locking the iron gate, leaving a crack in the stone door to allow some airflow. The stench inside the cellar lessened slightly, and the faint beam of light filtering in eased the suffocating darkness just a bit.
Mai Feng gritted his teeth and forced himself to move, shuffling over to the battered clay pot. He stirred its contents with a trembling hand. Some of the medicine had burned at the bottom, but that wouldn’t affect its potency.
He scavenged a cracked bowl and carefully wiped it clean with a scrap of fabric from his clothes before rinsing it with the broth. A baby’s stomach was delicate—he had cared for his younger brother before, he knew how to be careful.
Once satisfied, he filled half a bowl with the medicine and blew on it gently until it was merely warm. Only then did he crawl to Shan Shan’s side.
“Drink a little, alright? If your fever lasts too long, you might lose your senses,” he coaxed, carefully pressing the bowl to the child’s lips.
Shan Shan was dazed with fever, barely conscious. He took one sip and gagged at the bitter taste.
“Be good, little gourd. Just one more sip. You mustn’t throw up, you hear?” Mai Feng urged softly. In this era, a fever could be deadly for a child.
Despite the nausea, Shan Shan obediently swallowed several more mouthfuls under Mai Feng’s persistent coaxing. Only when most of the medicine was gone did Mai Feng retrieve a small, meticulously wrapped handkerchief from his robes.
Carefully, he unwrapped it, revealing a tiny piece of sugar candy, barely the size of a fingernail. His gaze softened, filled with memories—this was the candy his younger brother had longed for before he passed, a treat he had never had the chance to taste.
Mai Feng had held onto it all this time. Even when he had starved to the point of dizziness, he had never considered eating it himself.
“Little gourd, you’ve been so good. Here, have something sweet. But after you eat it, you’re not allowed to sleep, alright?” he murmured, gently placing the candy in Shan Shan’s mouth.
A faint sweetness spread across Shan Shan’s tongue, easing the tight furrow in his brow. Mai Feng, too, smiled in relief.
Before long, the woman returned, bringing a steaming basin of rice porridge—and, surprisingly, a large bowl of white steamed buns.
The children huddled in the corners immediately swarmed forward, scrambling to snatch the food.
“Starving rats! What are you grabbing for?!” the woman barked, kicking them away. “Anyone else want a foot to the face?” She glared at them, her stick poised threateningly. “Each of you gets two buns and a bowl of porridge! No one takes more than their share!”
None of them dared to disobey, not with her watchful eye and heavy stick at the ready. They took their portions with trembling hands, clutching their food as though it were the most precious thing in the world.
“Does this mean the buyers are coming?” A young girl in the corner clutched her bowl, her voice quivering.
“Where will they take us?” Her tears dripped into the porridge. “Will I ever see home again?”
The children’s gazes fell on their food, dread settling in their stomachs.
A full meal meant one thing—the buyers were near.
They needed to look well-fed, spirited, in good condition—so they could fetch a better price.
Mai Feng took a deep breath and ate half a bun before tucking the rest into his robes. He coaxed Shan Shan into eating another half and drinking his porridge.
Through the small opening in the stone door, they could see the sky darkening. Evening was setting in.
Shan Shan managed to eat another half-bun by afternoon. Though he still felt weak, a faint warmth had returned to his limbs. He clung to Mai Feng, both of them damp with sweat from his fluctuating fever.
Outside, the lamps burned late into the night. The woman paced anxiously under the flickering light, her face twisted with impatience. A man sat in a rickety chair nearby, smoking dry tobacco, occasionally glancing at the entrance.
“They should be here by now,” he muttered.
“They wouldn’t back out, would they?”
“This is our biggest haul yet. After this sale, we’re done. We’ll take the money, leave Brahma Kingdom, and head to Northern Zhao. They let you study for free there. We’ll buy some land, get a couple of servants, and live a life of comfort.”
“I’ll even give you two sons,” the woman added dreamily, licking her lips. “Just imagine.”
She was too lost in her fantasy to notice the man’s look of utter disdain.
“What kind of people buy from us anyway?” she prattled on. “Why do they always come at midnight? It gives me the creeps… My eyelid’s been twitching all day. What if something goes wrong?”
“Shut up!” the man snapped, shooting her a glare. “You’re blabbering nonsense. Midnight means fewer eyes watching. If you’re so bored, go check on the goods—make sure they’re in good condition!”
“What our buyers do is none of your concern! Stick to the rules!”
The woman grumbled, but before she could argue further, a knock sounded at the door.
Just one light tap.
Then silence.
She gasped, her nerves on edge. “Is that… our honored guest?”
The courtyard was eerily quiet. Nothing stirred beyond the gate.
The man flicked his tobacco onto the table and held up a hand to silence her.
“Honored guest, if it’s you, the door’s open,” he called, his tone cautious.
A long silence followed before a voice finally drifted from beyond the gate.
“I find it inconvenient to open doors. Could you trouble yourself to do it for me?”
The voice was sharp yet oddly muffled, carrying a trace of gloom.
The woman let out a relieved laugh. “It’s our guest! Nearly scared me to death. Come on, go bring out the goods. I’ll open the door.”
She stepped forward, reaching for the latch.
The man, meanwhile, went to unlock the cellar. Yet, a strange unease nagged at him.
Why hadn’t the buyer opened the door themselves this time?
“Get out! No noise, or I’ll cut your throats!” he barked, brandishing his blade as the children trembled.
They had seen it before. A child had once tried to cry for help—only to be strangled in silence, their lifeless body carried out as if nothing had happened.
Now, fear bound their tongues as tightly as chains.
This novel is translated and hosted on Bcatranslation