When Yan Xue heard that Liu Weiguo might soon become a father, she couldn't help but chuckle. "He moves fast," she remarked.
No sooner had she spoken than Qi Fang glanced up at her.
Those peach-blossom eyes of his were quiet, always carrying a depth of emotion when he looked at someone. But over the past two months, there seemed to be something new in his gaze—something unreadable.
Yan Xue instinctively covered her face with her hand, suddenly recalling her earlier joke about having "two kids in three years." She teased, "You’re not jealous, are you?"
"No," Qi Fang answered swiftly, pulling her hand away for emphasis. "Really, I’m not."
Qi Fang was different from most men of his time. Raised by his grandfather, he lost him at thirteen, and his mentor at eighteen.
Though a childhood betrothal had been arranged for him, no one ever drilled into him the traditional notions of marriage, children, or carrying on the family line. He’d never cared much about such things. In his youth, his mind was filled with machinery; later, it was consumed by restraint. Had Yan Xue not sought him out, he might never have married at all.
So whether he became a father or not held no weight for him. It would be nice, but it wouldn’t be a loss if it never happened.
Her question, however, made him worry she might overthink it. "I don’t care about these things. It wouldn’t matter to me if we never had children."
Typical of the aloof, untouchable figure from the original novel—completely devoid of worldly desires like continuing the family line.
…Or so she thought. Given his recent enthusiasm over the past two months, his "worldly desires" seemed plenty strong.
Yan Xue snatched her hand back and lightly smacked his. "Don’t say that. I’m not planning on going childless my whole life."
The playful tap carried an affectionate tone. Qi Fang flexed his fingers where she’d hit them and lowered his gaze to her. "You want one?"
"Why wouldn’t I? Little kids are soft and adorable. Don’t you think Jigang is cute?"
During those months when her memory had been muddled after her head injury, Jigang had been her solace, easing the relentless headaches day after day.
Yan Xue had never been afraid of new relationships—or new lives. Why reject the possibility of a child before fate even decided whether to grant her one?
With that thought, she arched a brow at him, as if daring him to disagree.
Jigang was indeed adorable—well-behaved, sweet, and thoughtful. When Qi Fang’s medicine was too bitter, the boy had even sneaked him candy.
But to Qi Fang, the woman before him—smiling one moment, pouting the next—was far more endearing.
Unable to resist, he ruffled her hair. "Then I’ll work harder."
Seeing the faint irritation flicker in her laughing eyes, he leaned in and murmured, "You’ll have to endure it too."
That earned him more than just a glare. Yan Xue outright scowled. "It’s broad daylight. Behave yourself."
What did he mean, "endure"? As if she was the one slacking!
Ever since that hospital misunderstanding, or maybe because he hadn’t been up the mountain lately, the man had been relentless once the lights went out. Gone was his usual cool detachment.
She sometimes wondered if all twenty-year-old men had this much energy—or if Qi Fang was genuinely an insomniac who just didn’t need much sleep.
The thought prompted her to ask, "It’s already October. Won’t you be heading up the mountain soon?"
The moment the words left her mouth, the softness in Qi Fang’s expression froze. He didn’t answer.
"Well?" She poked him. "I saw the logistics team already starting to lay the small railway tracks and dig the storage pits up there."
This time, Qi Fang responded—a quiet, heavy "Mm."
Something felt off. Yan Xue studied him curiously. "What’s wrong?"
"Nothing." He shifted the subject. "Uncle Liu says we should be able to start construction. I’ll go to town tomorrow for bricks and cement."
They’d have to hurry. Once the snow fell, the ground would freeze solid, making further work impossible.
Yan Xue let him steer the conversation elsewhere. It wasn’t until after they’d finished discussing the plans and she’d gone to help the elderly Second Grandma with cooking that Qi Fang finally glanced at the calendar.
Several months had passed. Why hadn’t those logging machines broken down yet?
In a small forestry settlement like theirs, news traveled fast. The moment Qi Fang and Yan Xue hauled bricks and cement into their yard, people took notice.
Whispers started almost immediately. "Didn’t they just finish building their house? What are they up to now?"
"Probably adding an extension. The Liu father and son are already inside digging the foundation. At this rate, you’d think they were all one family."
Since the Lius weren’t related to Qi Fang or Yan Xue, the implication in that remark was impossible to miss.
Some snickered. Others wondered aloud, "Isn’t three rooms enough for them? Why build more?"
"Who knows? Maybe they’ve got money to burn. Or maybe more of Yan Xue’s relatives are moving in."
At the mention of Yan Xue, Li Shuwu’s wife curled her lip. "They say a married daughter is like spilled water—gone for good. But I’ve never seen water flow backward like this. Qi Fang’s own family hasn’t even visited, yet she’s brought her brother, her grandma—might as well move her whole clan here. No idea what kind of spell she’s cast on that man—"
A loud clatter cut her off mid-sentence.
Jin Baozhi dropped the wheelbarrow she’d been pushing and rounded on the woman. "If Qi Fang doesn’t have a problem with it, what’s it to you?"
This was the same Jin Baozhi who’d once slapped someone without hesitation. Li Shuwu’s wife faltered.
But with others nearby, she found her nerve again. "I wasn’t talking to you. Why are you butting in?"
"You badmouth Yan Xue, and I’ll butt in every time!" Jin Baozhi shot back. "Keep your nasty mouth shut if you’ve got nothing useful to say!"
Before Li Shuwu’s wife could retort, Yan Xue emerged at the commotion. Spotting her, Yan Xue smiled sweetly. "Oh, Sister Li! Has your family paid back all the money you borrowed yet?"
Li Shuwu’s wife—née Li herself—choked on her words.
The debts from their own home construction still hadn’t been settled. Creditors hounded her constantly.
As if a little debt was worth making such a fuss over. Did they really think her family would skip out on paying?
Watching Li Shuwu’s wife flounder, Jin Baozhi snorted, hefted her wheelbarrow again, and dumped the freshly dug sand in Yan Xue’s yard.
Yan Xue brought her a cup of warm water. "Take a break and drink something."
Jin Baozhi gulped it down in a few swallows and handed the cup back. "No need. I’m not tired."
That reminded Yan Xue of something else. "Baozhi, are you really set on joining the logging team?"
Both Jin Baozhi and You Jinfeng had their formal employment approved by the forestry bureau. Starting this autumn, they’d no longer work with the families’ auxiliary team.
Despite having the option of lighter, more suitable jobs in logistics, both women had chosen the grueling work of the logging team.
Even the Guo family had struggled to understand the decision. For You Jinfeng, it made sense—with four children, two already in school and the younger ones about to start, she needed the higher pay to keep food on the table.
Jin Baozhi didn't feel much pressure—she had few children, her husband was capable, and apart from her mother-in-law and brother-in-law (who even earned his own wages), life was manageable.
Yet she remained determined. "I have to achieve something, so people will stop gossiping about how I got this position."
Working in logistics was easy, but though she never voiced it, she still remembered how Yu Cuiyun had criticized her for taking leave and brought up her family's "undesirable background."
Yan Xue knew about this too—she had been the one to help Jin Baozhi back then—so Jin Baozhi didn’t hide her thoughts from her. "I’m perfectly capable. Even if it’s just for pride’s sake, I won’t back down."
Lately, many had tried to dissuade her. Even neighbors would stop her on the street to say, "Why work so hard as a woman? You’d be better off taking care of your family and giving Tiedan a couple more brothers."
But something told her Yan Xue wouldn’t say such things—and indeed, she didn’t. Instead, Yan Xue smiled gently, her voice warm and reassuring. "Don’t worry, I’ll check in on your family often. You and Brother Changping can focus on your work. And Changan—he seems quite responsible too."
She respected Jin Baozhi’s choice, understood her decision, and even offered to help ease her burdens at home.
For once, Jin Baozhi’s usually stern expression softened. "Ignore the gossipers. I know you earn just as much as Qi Fang."
Yan Xue worked seasonal jobs in the support team, grew mushrooms, and supported her grandmother and brother all on her own. Did she really need to "bewitch" Qi Fang for his money?
Yan Xue was well aware of the gossip. "Let them talk. As long as I live better than them, that’s revenge enough."
That was true. People with real ability didn’t waste time on idle talk—they focused on improving their lives.
Jin Baozhi chuckled. "Good that you see it that way." She was about to push her cart to gather sand when Xu Wenli arrived—an unexpected visitor.
Yan Xue greeted him warmly. "Uncle Xu, what brings you here?"
"Saw your Qi Fang welding a boiler at the repair shop. Wondered what you two were up to." Xu Wenli got straight to the point. "Is Daniu around?"
"He is." Yan Xue called inside, "Uncle Liu, Uncle Xu is here for you!"
She should’ve called him "Uncle Liu" like Qi Fang did, but she’d gotten used to "Uncle" before marriage and never changed it.
Liu Daniu answered from inside, and Xu Wenli went in. "Qi Fang says this fire-wall thing works. You sure?"
"Should be fine. I checked the original blueprint—the town’s food factory uses the same setup for their fermentation room."
The two discussed it at length before Xu Wenli left, though he still seemed doubtful. Later, when the boiler was finally fired up, he returned to inspect it.
Yan Xue’s family had only added one and a half rooms: one for cultivating mushroom spawn, and a half-room for the boiler.
Inside the boiler room sat Qi Fang’s modified, much smaller boiler, connected via pipes to the cultivation room and fire-walls in each room. Opening a valve directed heat wherever needed.
To maximize heat dispersion, Qi Fang had even expanded the fire-wall, turning it into a small heated platform wide enough for two people to lie on.
After the valve was opened, little Jigang kept reaching out to touch it. Soon, his eyes lit up. "Hot… it’s hot!"
Yan Xue touched it too—warm, but not fully heated yet.
A while later, the temperature rose noticeably. Xu Wenli, who’d just come in from outside still wearing his coat, started feeling too warm. He undid his top buttons and touched the fire-wall—now scalding.
"Boiler at full power?" he asked Qi Fang.
"No. At full power, this room would hit nearly 30 degrees."
The food factory’s fermentation room could exceed 35 degrees if pushed.
Xu Wenli said nothing more, checked the other rooms and the boiler, then left.
Before the day ended, Secretary Lang dropped by, followed by Director Yu. Then, just before dinner, Xu Wenli took Qi Fang aside. He returned half an hour later, arms full of materials.
Dinner was already ready. As Yan Xue set the table, she asked, "The farm wants this too?"
"Yeah." Qi Fang wasn’t surprised she guessed. He put the items down and helped serve the food. "The offices at the farm headquarters still use stoves—not warm enough. Last year, poor ventilation nearly caused an accident."
Burning coal indoors in winter without proper ventilation risked carbon monoxide poisoning—potentially fatal.
If they were burning coal anyway, a boiler was safer and more efficient.
And while ordinary families couldn’t afford bricks and cement, the forestry bureau—nicknamed "Big Spender Lin"—had no such constraints.
Yan Xue thought of Xu Wenli. "Is Uncle Xu trying to help you gain favor with the farm?"
Xu Wenli managed the repair shop, not the farm offices. Why would he care about their heating?
Qi Fang understood. "He suggested I handle the farm headquarters’ installation too."
"We’ll have to thank him properly later."
"Mm."
After dinner, Yan Xue finally checked the materials Qi Fang had brought back—a full set of high school textbooks.
She froze. She’d thought his earlier "I’ll teach you" was just offhanded. But here was the proof.
She turned to him, eyes soft. "You really meant it about being ‘Teacher Qi’?"
Qi Fang didn’t joke back. Instead, he lowered his peach-blossom eyes and said quietly, "Don’t worry. I’ll make up for everything you missed."
Yan Xue fell silent. Then Jigang came over with a question, saw the books, and read aloud, "H-high… school… math. Who’s g-going to high school?"
For once, Yan Xue just nodded. Qi Fang explained, "Your sister’s going to study. I’ll teach her."
"Oh! Then I-I’ll go back first." Jigang, thinking studying was serious business, grabbed his notebook to leave.
"Wait, let’s finish your question." Qi Fang held out a hand. "Which part don’t you get?"
After solving Jigang’s problem, they sent him off—the boy even carefully closed the door behind him.
The boiler hummed softly, filling the room with warmth. In just a shirt, Qi Fang’s calm demeanor made him look every bit the teacher.
Yan Xue watched him a moment, then flipped through a textbook. "I’ve actually read these before."
In her past life.
After dropping out, she’d struggled for a long time—busy at the market by day, dreaming of classrooms at night.
She’d never told anyone, but she’d bought a full set of high school textbooks from a scrap yard and pored over every word.
Yan Xue's fingers gently traced the pages of the book. "Still, thank you," she said, her eyes curving into crescents as if they could hold the entire world.
Yet, how deep must her regret have been for her to read through everything without truly absorbing a word?
Perhaps when she had once remarked on his remarkable memory, lamenting that he never got to attend university, the regret wasn’t his alone—it was hers as well.
Qi Fang couldn’t help but pull her into his embrace, lowering his lips to press a kiss against those bright, shimmering eyes.
"We’ll make up for it," he said, surprising even himself with the rare words of comfort.
But what use was it, really? Even as a university student, he was stuck in this remote mountain village, and the college entrance exams had been suspended. Even if they could "make up for it," it wouldn’t change anything.
The thought weighed heavily on Qi Fang’s heart—not just for his own experiences, but even more so for Yan Xue.
Yet Yan Xue found the man particularly pleasing today, his voice even more captivating than usual.
Unable to resist, she cupped his face in her hands, tilting it left and right for inspection. "You’ve got a bit of that childhood charm back," she mused.
Hadn’t she once said he was more handsome as a child than he was now?
Before Qi Fang could lower his gaze in confusion, she rose onto her tiptoes and planted a kiss on his chin. "How about you call me 'big sister'?"
Given Yan Xue’s age in her past life, she truly deserved the title from Qi Fang. But hearing it, his eyes darkened imperceptibly.
Instead, he tightened his grip around her waist, chasing after her lips with his own. "Why don’t you call me 'big brother' first?"
The question was light, but the pressure of his kiss was anything but gentle.
By October, the days had grown shorter, though it wasn’t yet dark enough right after dinner. In the past, Yan Xue would have pushed him away.
But today, after only a brief hesitation, she looped her arms around his shoulders and kissed him back.
Though she merely lifted her head to meet him, Qi Fang hoisted her onto the writing desk, tilting his handsome face to deepen the kiss.
In the quiet, the faint sound of their mingled breaths filled the air. Before long, Yan Xue had to brace one hand against the desk, her tongue nearly numb from his relentless attention.
His hands gripped her waist firmly, his long lashes casting shadows in the dim light, accentuating the upward tilt of his peach-blossom eyes—eyes that brought life to his otherwise cool expression.
Yan Xue could feel the temperature rising between them, the closeness, the unmistakable signal of an impending advance.
Then—click.
The door across the hall swung open, followed by the patter of footsteps and a soft, puzzled voice. "S-So dark... S-Sis, Bro, why haven’t you turned on the light?"
Yan Xue’s scalp prickled. She shoved Qi Fang away and leapt off the desk in one swift motion.
The push was forceful, and since Qi Fang had already been about to release her, he stumbled half a step back, lifting the back of his hand to wipe his lips.
The gesture was devastating. Yan Xue refused to look at him again, hastily wiping her own mouth before clearing her throat. "Turn on the light. I can’t see a thing."
"Mmm." His response was low and rough. A moment later, the pull-string of the light clicked.
Perhaps sensing they weren’t quite finished, the footsteps outside paused before retreating with the same light patter.
Yan Xue exhaled in relief, then instinctively glanced back—only to find Qi Fang’s pale face still tinged with lingering color. Seemingly overheated, he lazily leaned against the doorframe, undoing the top two buttons of his shirt.
She whipped her head away, missing the way his darkened gaze lingered on the flushed tips of her ears and the sliver of pale neck peeking above her collar.
Before long, he embraced her from behind again, nipping lightly at her nape. "Still not going to call me?" His voice was a deep murmur.
This time, Yan Xue refused to indulge him, shoving him away. "You call me 'big sister' first."
Of course, she did eventually call him "big brother"—later that night, after the lights went out, when "Teacher Qi" brandished his disciplinary rod but refused to give her any mercy.
But Yan Xue was no obedient student. She retaliated by leaving a neat row of teeth marks on Teacher Qi’s collarbone, ensuring he felt the sting the next morning when he dressed.
Thankfully, the colder weather meant no one questioned him buttoning his collar high. He strode out as composed as ever, with no trace of last night’s debauchery.
At least, neither Xu Wenli—who welded boilers alongside him—nor the others building the heated wall at the worksite noticed.
Within two days, the heated wall at the worksite was complete. Though not as elaborate as the small kang bed in his own home, it was enough for a grown man to stretch out on.
The moment the boiler was tested, the difference was undeniable. Unlike stoves that required huddling close for warmth, the heated wall radiated heat from all sides.
Soon, those without tasks were perched on the wall. Before long, even those with work found excuses to move their tasks there.
By afternoon, someone had sprawled out fully, sighing about how it was no worse than a kang at home—right as Director Yu caught them red-handed.
Director Yu’s face darkened instantly. "What do you think you’re doing, lazing around during work hours?"
Technically, it wasn’t yet work hours, but no one argued. No point in provoking him further.
Still, Director Yu lectured them all. "The worksite built this heated wall out of consideration for your hard work, especially after recent incidents. But does that mean you’ve forgotten the spirit of perseverance? Lying around in broad daylight—is this how we build our nation? If everyone were like you, we’d be doomed!"
The group listened with bowed heads. Only after he left did someone mutter, "If he’s so dedicated, why’d he have one built in his office?"
"Just jealous it was Qi Fang’s idea." Given the tension between Qi Fang and the Yu family, it wasn’t exactly a secret in the small forestry community.
Speaking of Qi Fang, another recalled the earlier training incident. "You think his spot getting revoked had something to do with them?"
The daughter had only just cleared her name, and now the father was shouldering blame. Truly, this family had no allies.
Not that anyone blamed the workers. When Secretary Lang had proposed the heated walls, Director Yu had opposed it. Who wouldn’t resent someone standing in the way of their comfort?
Meanwhile, back in his office, Director Yu was greeted by a wave of warmth the moment he stepped inside.
He shed his heavy coat, sat at his desk, then frowned—while his upper body was fine, his legs, resting on the cold floor, ached with a familiar chill.
Years of working in the mountains—wading through dew in summer, trudging through snow in winter—had left him with chronic joint pain.
Glancing outside to confirm no one was around, and figuring no one would come looking at this hour, he climbed onto the heated wall.
The relief was immediate. Heat seeped through his clothes, soothing his muscles.
Before long, he stretched his legs out, then lay flat, the warmth seeping into his back. Really, it was no worse than his kang at home.
Just as the thought crossed his mind—footsteps.
Someone was heading straight for his office.
Director Yu shot upright like a man resurrected—
Or tried to. Age had stiffened his reflexes.
The door swung open before he could sit up fully. "Director Yu, it’s snowing outside. Secretary Lang says to prepare for the mobilization meeting."
The messenger paused, scanning the room. "Huh. Thought you were in here."
The other person instinctively scanned the room, their gaze eventually lowering to meet Director Yu, who was perched on the fire wall, poised between rising and staying put.
