When it came to the surname "Qi," Yan Xue was even more familiar with it than the similar-sounding "Qi."
Mainly because in that novel she had read, the formidable character who wielded the "broken engagement" trope and tormented the supporting female character sharing her name—Yan Xue—bore the surname Qi.
That man's life was far more dramatic than hers, more tumultuous than both her lifetimes combined.
Before the age of eighteen, he came from an illustrious family, with a father holding a high-ranking position, while he himself was renowned as a prodigy, admitted to a prestigious university's mechanical engineering program at just fourteen.
By eighteen, when others were barely stepping into college, he had already graduated—only to be utterly cast down by fate's cruel twists.
His mentor fell from grace, his family collapsed, each blow striking him unprepared, leaving him adrift like a stray dog for over a decade, nearly forgotten by the world. Yet after the reforms, he clawed his way back to the summit with sheer intellect and cunning, like a chilling avenger reclaiming every debt owed to him.
Though not the protagonist in that book, most of its gripping arcs revolved around him, making him a deeply tragic yet vividly fleshed-out character.
But that formidable figure wasn’t named Qi Fang—he was Qi Jingshu.
Though now that she thought about it, that man also had those same indifferent peach-blossom eyes...
Yan Xue stared at the marriage certificate for a solid few seconds before lifting her gaze to the man. "You don’t have any other names, do you?"
"No." Qi Fang adjusted his cap, eyeing her with faint puzzlement at the question.
Of course, Yan Xue couldn’t explain anything about the novel or transmigration. "Just checking. In case you had a former name or something—wouldn’t want to get it wrong."
So it really had nothing to do with that book. She’d figured as much; after all, there was only one character in it who shared her name, and their paths never crossed.
But why was it this Qi Fang?
Unable to resist, Yan Xue studied him again. "You’re at least six feet tall, right?"
Qi Fang’s hand was already on the door handle, but he paused at her words and turned fully toward her. "Never measured."
Under the gaze of those deep-set peach-blossom eyes, Yan Xue felt an odd sensation, as if something was quietly observing her.
She quickly raised a hand to gesture near his chin. "I’m sure you are. I only come up to here on you."
His height matched. His looks matched. Even his job and the forestry station aligned. Seems she’d jumped to conclusions earlier, assuming Shan Qiufang had meant the other "Qi."
Well, this was something—only after getting the marriage certificate did she finally learn her husband’s real surname...
Even Yan Xue, whose thick skin had been honed in the marketplace, couldn’t help but touch her nose awkwardly before handing the certificate back to the man beside her as if nothing had happened.
"You keep it." Qi Fang didn’t take it, his gaze still coolly fixed on her face.
Yan Xue knew her earlier questions had been abrupt, but she couldn’t exactly ask, Do you know Qi Jingshu? Did I marry the wrong person?
That would’ve been even weirder—and likely made him question her sanity.
Thankfully, Liu Weiguo outside had lost patience and pushed the door open. "You done yet? Everyone’s waiting to start the banquet."
"Done, done."
Yan Xue hurriedly responded, and Qi Fang lowered his eyes, finally looking away.
Liu Weiguo immediately grinned and egged on the others. "Told you not to eat this morning—none of you did, right?"
"Who’d dare? You said today’s spread would be insane, all heavy dishes."
The wedding feast for Yan Xue and Qi Fang was indeed lavish. Aside from the twenty-some pounds of wild boar meat, the Lius later contributed three hares, two grouse, and a whole bucket of frozen fish. Enough not just for the wedding, but to last them through the New Year.
Yan Xue paid market price for everything. When Liu Weiguo delivered the fish, he made a point to say, "See? This is my real skill. That other day doesn’t count."
Clearly still hung up on that incident—though whether he harbored similar feelings about other matters was unclear.
Wild boar meat took time to tenderize, so Huang Fengying had come over the day before to start stewing it, then returned early that morning to help Aunt Guo manage three stoves at once.
Grouse paired classically with mushrooms, while the hare’s earthy gaminess was masked by heavily spiced potatoes. The fish, meanwhile, was braised in sauce.
With most dishes being stews, all the large pots were occupied. Liu Chuncai, having arrived earlier, now squatted by the fires, tending the flames.
After greeting guests, Yan Xue slipped her a handful of sunflower seeds. "Thought you’d ignore me now that I’m not your sister-in-law."
"I’m not that petty!" Liu Chuncai protested. "Those two grouse were from me—I told Mom to give them to you. Way better than pheasant; pheasant meat’s all stringy."
Despite her words, the girl’s cheeks pinked slightly.
She had been avoiding Yan Xue lately—not out of anger, but because after all her matchmaking efforts, the bride turned out to be Qi Fang’s. The awkwardness alone made her cringe.
But their earlier bond still held. Glancing around to ensure no one was nearby (her mother had gone next door to help serve), she leaned in and whispered, "Yan Xue, what’s it like being a bride?"
Still a kid at heart, she was endlessly curious—especially since she wasn’t much younger than Yan Xue.
"Well..." Yan Xue tilted her head, feigning deep thought.
"Come on, tell me!" the girl urged eagerly.
Under that bright-eyed stare, Yan Xue gave in. "Honestly? It’s exhausting. You saw how it was."
"That’s it?" Liu Chuncai deflated.
Of course, that wasn’t all. The daytime festivities were for show; the real highlight came at night—but that wasn’t something an underage girl needed to know.
Yan Xue plucked a piece of meat from a nearby dish and popped it into her mouth. "Kids shouldn’t ask so many questions."
"I’m not a kid! I’m practically sixteen!" Liu Chuncai mumbled around the food, still chewing rapidly while scanning the room defensively.
The image was downright squirrel-like, making Yan Xue stifle a laugh. "Sure, sure. You’re very grown-up. How about joining the adults’ table later for a drink?"
Local customs weren’t strict—whether kids could sit at the main table depended mostly on space. If there wasn’t room, a separate table would be set up, though children rarely had the patience to linger once they’d eaten.
With Yan Xue’s modest guest list, one table sufficed, so no second was needed. The drinking offer, of course, was just teasing.
Unexpectedly, while Liu Chuncai was too young to drink, Qi Fang—the groom—proved equally inept at holding his liquor.
At first, Yan Xue barely noticed, only thinking Qi Fang’s aloof demeanor clashed oddly with the festive atmosphere. Even Liu Weiguo and the others didn’t push him to drink much.
Later, she realized it wasn’t reluctance—it was wariness.
After just two toasts, a flush crept from his neck to his cheeks, staining his pale skin a delicate pink. Even those usually cool peach-blossom eyes grew glossy, their depths suddenly expressive, as if brimming with unspoken words—yet his face remained as impassive as ever.
Liu Chuncai accidentally met his gaze and froze, only snapping out of it when her brother flicked her forehead and reminded her to eat.
Yan Xue, seated closer, saw it all clearly—even catching the faint scent of liquor on his breath. Concerned, she asked, "You’re not allergic to alcohol, are you?"
"I’m fine." Qi Fang’s voice was steady, though he loosened his collar with one hand.
This slight movement revealed his flushed Adam's apple peeking above his collar. Yan Xue decisively took his glass away. "I think you'd better stop drinking," she said, rising to pour him a cup of warm water instead.
Liu Weiguo and the others didn’t dare push it, chiming in to smooth things over. "We all know you can't hold your liquor—just a sip for the occasion is enough."
"Yeah, don’t overdo it. Wouldn’t want you to lose your strength later."
The implication of what "strength" referred to drew knowing chuckles from the group.
"My sister’s still here—watch your mouths!" Liu Weiguo kicked at one of the men, then shot a glance at Liu Chunhua. "Just eat and ignore their nonsense."
Liu Chunhua stayed silent, keeping her head down as she shoveled rice into her mouth, though her eyes darted mischievously beneath her lashes.
Noticing the braised pheasant with mushrooms was disappearing fast, Huang Fengying started to rise, but Yan Xue beat her to it, lifting the serving dish. "Auntie, sit down—you’ve been busy all day for us." She headed to the kitchen herself.
Someone immediately elbowed Qi Fang with a smirk. "You sly dog, calling her your 'little sister' when she’s clearly your wife. Tricked us into calling you 'brother' all this time."
Yan Xue only learned later that Qi Fang was actually the youngest among them—all those "big brothers" had been a deliberate ploy.
As she finished refilling the dish and turned to carry it back, the front door was yanked open with a bang. A slurred voice barged in. "Qi Fang, you got married and didn’t even invite me to the celebration?"
The man’s tongue was thick with drink, his tone unmistakably hostile.
Huang Fengying, seated near the door, hurried forward. "My fault, my fault—it slipped my mind in all the rush." She shot Yan Xue a meaningful look. "This is Yu Yongzhi, Director Yu’s son. Haven’t you met yet?"
The pointed mention of his identity was clearly a warning—lest Yan Xue accidentally offend him. A scene at a wedding would be terrible luck.
Yan Xue reacted faster than expected, already greeting him with a smile. "So it’s Brother Yu! Please, come in."
But Yu Yongzhi was clearly here to pick a fight. "I don’t talk to women!" He shoved past her, striding inside. "We’re in the same work crew, Qi Fang. You invite them but not me? Think you’re too good for me?"
Yan Xue followed with the dish just as he slammed a palm on the table, leaning into Qi Fang’s face.
The other workers frowned but forced themselves to mediate for the sake of the occasion.
Yu Yongzhi ignored them all. Unwavering, he grabbed a liquor bottle and thrust it forward. "You owe me two penalty drinks."
This was the era before glass cups—enamel mugs with lids were the norm, each holding at least half a pound of liquor. The homemade spirits on the table were over 50 proof. Two mugs would floor most men, let alone one.
Qi Fang remained unruffled. "No rush. We might not have enough—let Liu Weiguo fetch more. Sit and eat first."
He stood to fetch chopsticks but paused at the door, exchanging a glance with Liu Weiguo.
Catching on, Liu Weiguo grabbed his coat. "Right, this won’t last with Brother Yu’s capacity. I’ll get another bottle."
Before he could step out, Qi Fang added calmly, "Stop by Director Yu’s place. Tell him Yu Yongzhi’s here drinking at my wedding."
How close Qi Fang and Yu Yongzhi really were—whether they were on celebratory-drink terms—Director Yu would know. The man was protective but still had some pride; he wouldn’t let his son cause a scene and become the talk of the lumberyard for months.
As Liu Weiguo nodded, Qi Fang added, "And ask where he’d been drinking earlier."
Liu Weiguo wasn’t slow. "You think someone egged him on?"
"Maybe not," Qi Fang said. "But if he drank at home, Director Yu wouldn’t have let him leave like this."
Recalling Yu Yongzhi’s past drunken antics, Liu Weiguo agreed. "I’ll go. Keep things under control here."
No sooner had he spoken than Yu Yongzhi bellowed, "Where’d he go? Running off?"
Qi Fang returned, setting out utensils and even rinsing a mug to pour half a serving of liquor—a gesture that softened Yu Yongzhi’s glare, even drawing a smug smirk.
"Took you long enough to act decent. Think you can just waltz into any empty spot, then mope around like a dead fish?"
The insults were sharp. Someone tried to distract him with a toast. "Rare chance to drink with Brother Yu. Let’s have one."
But the words somehow set Yu Yongzhi off. "You think you’re worthy? Qi Fang’s drinking with me!"
The outright disrespect left the man seething. Yu Yongzhi’s eyes bulged. "You deaf? I said him!" He made to flip the table.
A wedding ruined would be a disaster.
Qi Fang pressed a hand to the table’s edge, his gaze darkening—but a small hand moved faster, pouring half a mug and lifting it.
"Let me drink with you instead."
Yan Xue smiled sweetly, tilting the mug to show the generous pour.
No one expected her to speak up, let alone challenge him to drink.
Huang Fengying and Liu Chunhua looked worried. Qi Fang reached for the mug, brow furrowed. "I’ll handle it."
"It’s fine. If I can’t hold my liquor, you can step in."
Yan Xue switched hands, her fingers brushing his—no thick gloves this time, just the softness of her skin and the faint roughness of her fingertips. The fleeting touch made Qi Fang pause, and she seized the moment, raising the mug. "Surely the bride’s worthy of a toast? I haven’t drunk with anyone yet today."
Her voice was honey, her smile brighter than stars. Yu Yongzhi had meant to refuse, but the deference in her posture and the flattery in her words made him sip grudgingly.
Then Yan Xue tipped back the mug—downing the entire half-pint in one go. She flipped it upside down to prove it empty.
The room froze. Even Yu Yongzhi, a seasoned drinker, gaped. Qi Fang’s gaze deepened, unreadable.
Yan Xue wiped her mouth with the back of her hand, feigning surprise as she eyed Yu Yongzhi’s barely touched drink. "Brother Yu, you’re not drinking?"
What could he say? A woman had drained hers while he’d barely sipped.
And this delicate little wife of Qi Fang’s, all sweet smiles and no edge—how had she knocked back three ounces like water?
Yu Yongzhi hesitated, mug in hand. Yan Xue blinked innocently. "Even a woman drank up. If Brother Yu won’t, does that mean you look down on me?"
No one knew if Yu Yongzhi still remembered his initial declaration of "I don't talk to women," but he was undoubtedly cornered by Yan Xue's words.
If a woman could handle it, but he couldn’t, did that mean he was even less capable than a woman?
Gritting his teeth, Yu Yongzhi picked up his cup and downed it all.
"Brother Yu, impressive!" Yan Xue immediately praised loudly, her eyes sparkling as if they could emit light.
Whether it was the alcohol or not, Yu Yongzhi felt a bit lightheaded, though he also secretly sighed in relief—at least he’d managed to placate this young wife.
But then Yan Xue lifted the liquor bottle and poured each of them another half-cup. "This one’s to thank Brother Yu for coming to Qi Fang’s and my wedding. I’ll finish mine; you take your time."
With that, she tilted her head back, emptying her cup again.
Even Yu Yongzhi, who prided himself on his drinking capacity, had never downed six or seven liang (approx. 300-350ml) in one go like this.
His hand hesitated briefly. Just then, Qi Fang, sitting diagonally across from him, glanced over. "Brother Yu, if you can’t handle it, you can switch to water."
He even stood up, as if ready to fetch water for him.
The others quickly chimed in: "Yeah, Brother Yu, your face is already red. Take it easy."
"She’s just a reckless woman—no need to compete with her. Just sip if you want."
Yu Yongzhi had come here to assert his dominance, not to be humiliated. Provoked, he grabbed his cup. "Who said I can’t handle it?"
Liu Weiguo rushed back, nearly jogging, afraid things might have escalated beyond repair.
But when he pushed open the door to the main room, everything was eerily quiet—quieter than before Yu Yongzhi had even arrived.
Had they already fought and dispersed?
Quickening his steps, he crossed the threshold, only to find the room steeped in an atmosphere of prosperity, democracy, civility, and harmony.
Liu Chunhua’s bowl was empty, and she sat there, her gaze vacant, as if her soul had drifted away—perhaps too full and drowsy. The others were still toasting, but their movements were cautious now. Most shockingly, Yu Yongzhi, the very man he’d been worried about, was sprawled on the kang (heated bed), unconscious…
Liu Weiguo paused at the doorway, pointing at Yu Yongzhi in disbelief. "Is he… asleep?" he whispered.
"Speak normally; he’s dead drunk—won’t hear a thing," Yan Xue replied.
He exhaled in relief, then frowned. "Did you all gang up to get him drunk? So fast?"
Yu Yongzhi was no lightweight—he could easily handle half a jin (approx. 250g) of liquor. Even with everyone taking turns, it should’ve taken effort.
Yet the table fell silent. Finally, Liu Chunhua, still dazed, spoke up. "No… Yan Xue drank him under the table. Alone."
Yan Xue? Qi Fang’s little wife?
Liu Weiguo froze. Liu Chunhua continued dropping bombshells: "Two and a half cups in a row—over six liang—downed in one go. Then he just… collapsed."
She pointed at Yu Yongzhi on the kang. "He tried to tough it out, but he keeled over and nearly smashed the table. Qi Fang caught him just in time."
Now even Liu Weiguo felt lightheaded. How could something so absurd be true?
He glanced around the table for confirmation. The others wore strange expressions—only Yan Xue, her cheeks faintly flushed against her red-checkered blouse, looked perfectly refreshed.
The petite young woman showed no sign of intoxication and even smiled at him. "Did you bring back more liquor?"
Was she genuinely asking, or had Qi Fang already told her?
Liu Weiguo shot Qi Fang a look and found him leaning on the table, watching Yan Xue with an unreadable expression.
Yan Xue, oblivious to their silent exchange, added, "We were in such a hurry earlier—we haven’t paid for the liquor yet."
So he’d overthought it. Liu Weiguo chuckled. "I wasn’t buying liquor. Qi Fang sent me to tip someone off. They’ll be here soon, but I came back to check."
Tip someone off? Who?
Before anyone could react, the door creaked open—Director Yu, the deputy head of the forestry station, had arrived.
Yan Xue had seen him from afar in the mountains. With his downturned eyes and deep frown lines, he didn’t look like an easygoing man—and his behavior confirmed it.
Most people, upon learning their son had gotten drunk and caused trouble at a wedding, would at least feign apology. But Director Yu stormed in, his first words demanding, "Where’s Yongzhi?" Anyone unaware might think he’d come to deliver a scolding.
Huang Fengying, the only one present of his generation, stood up. "Yongzhi had a bit too much and fell asleep a while ago."
Director Yu spotted his son, lifeless on the kang. "How did he end up like this?"
No one answered directly. Instead, they joked that he should advise Yu Yongzhi to drink less in the future and offered to help carry him home.
Yu Yongzhi was truly out cold—no amount of shaking or lifting roused him. Left with no choice, Director Yu recruited someone to help haul him back.
So Liu Weiguo, who’d just taken off his coat, put it back on. Since he’d been the one to fetch Director Yu, he might as well see this through and assist with Yu Yongzhi’s transport.
But barely two minutes after they left, before the atmosphere could recover, Liu Weiguo rushed back in. "Got a rag? Yu Yongzhi puked—all over his dad."
Talk about perfect timing. Director Yu’s face must’ve been even darker now.
Winter days were short, and in the forestry station, two meals a day were the norm. Though the wedding banquet had started at noon, the drinking lasted well past 3 p.m.
Qi Fang, relatively sober, joined Liu Weiguo in escorting the more intoxicated guests home. Meanwhile, Yan Xue, Huang Fengying, and Liu Chunhua cleared the table, piecing together the story behind Yu Yongzhi’s antics.
The grudge between Yu Yongzhi and Qi Fang wasn’t really Qi Fang’s fault.
Yu Yongzhi had once been a sawyer’s assistant. Thanks to his father’s position, he’d even attended a training session at the town’s forestry bureau—only to mess up due to drinking and fail the certification.
That alone wasn’t a big deal; he could retake it in a year or two. But he didn’t change. When inspectors came, he got drunk again and caused a scene in public.
Naturally, he lost his position as an assistant. High-paying roles like tractor or winch operators were now out of reach.
Qi Fang was the one recommended by team leader Liu Daniu to replace him, which made Yu Yongzhi resentful—convinced Qi Fang had stolen his spot. Worse, people whispered that productivity had improved since the change, and even Yu Yongzhi’s former sawyer mentor treated Qi Fang better.
"That’s just how he is—alcohol brings out the worst in him. Even his mother can’t stop him. Don’t take it to heart; he’s all bark and no bite," Huang Fengying told Yan Xue.
Yan Xue nodded. Drunken fools were common, and those who blamed others instead of reflecting on themselves weren’t rare either. There was no point in getting worked up over someone like that.
When Yu Yongzhi was mentioned, Huang Fengying couldn't help but glance at Yan Xue's expression again. "Do you want to go lie down for a while?"
"I'm fine," Yan Xue had just responded when Qi Fang and Liu Weiguo returned after seeing the guests off.
"Those guys can't hold their liquor at all—even your wife drinks better than them," Liu Weiguo remarked as he walked in.
Qi Fang didn’t respond to that. He stepped inside, took off his padded coat, rolled up his sleeves, and took over the task from Huang Fengying. "You should go rest. You’ve been busy all day with our wedding."
Since most of the cleanup was already done, Huang Fengying rubbed her shoulders and nodded. "Alright, take your time with the rest. Weiguo, Chun Cai, and I will head back now."
Yan Xue moved quickly, scooping two small bowls of untouched dishes for them. "We won’t finish all this, so take some back—saves you the trouble of cooking again."
With New Year’s Eve just two days away, it made sense not to let food go to waste. Huang Fengying didn’t refuse. "I’ll wash the bowls and return them tomorrow."
Once the Lius left, the small house, lively all day, finally quieted down. Only the sound of Qi Fang tidying up remained—surprisingly deft for a man.
As Yan Xue stepped forward to help, the man glanced up at her. "Go lie down for a while."
Qi Fang: You do know people can change their names, right?
Yan Xue: ...
