Yan Xue never imagined she would see Miss Yan again, especially in such a teary-eyed state.
As for Qi Fang, from the moment Miss Yan appeared at the door, his eyes darkened along with his expression.
He hadn’t expected Miss Yan to show up either, and the first thing she did was ask for Yan Xue.
What did she want with Yan Xue?
Only Second Old Lady was oblivious. Seeing a young girl with reddened eyes, she exclaimed, "Oh dear, what’s the matter?"
As she spoke, she glanced at Yan Xue, who stepped forward with a smile. "It’s nothing. She’s someone Qi Fang and I know."
Miss Yan only then realized how abrupt she must have seemed. Her face flushed.
"I’m sorry. There’s something I need to talk to Yan Xue about," she quickly composed herself and apologized to the old lady.
Second Old Lady didn’t mind. Hearing that Miss Yan was acquainted with Yan Xue and Qi Fang, she said, "Then you two go inside and talk."
This made Miss Yan’s face burn even hotter, but under the old lady’s warm gaze and Yan Xue’s gentle smile, she braved Qi Fang’s cold stare and followed them in.
Once inside, she was startled to see a chubby little boy playing by himself on the kang. She turned to Yan Xue in surprise.
"My son," Yan Xue said softly, picking up the little boy. "Grandma, could you watch Yan Yu for a bit?"
Second Old Lady called back from outside but hadn’t yet entered. The little boy held out his cloth ball to Miss Yan.
Miss Yan froze. "F-for me?" She even stumbled over her words, caught off guard.
The little boy just giggled, pressing the ball into her hand, which made her eyes well up again.
Then she heard Qi Fang’s cool voice. "He’s telling you to take the toy and leave quickly, so you don’t steal his mom."
Miss Yan’s heart, full of emotion, stuttered. Yan Xue shot the man a look, suspecting his words carried hidden meaning—especially the "leave quickly" part.
Just then, Second Old Lady came in and took the little boy. "Come, let’s go play in Great-Grandma’s room," she cooed, tickling him.
The little boy laughed, momentarily forgetting everything else. Yan Xue closed the door and poured Miss Yan a cup of water. "What’s wrong?"
At this, Miss Yan’s eyes reddened again, her voice trembling. "Wu Xingde got married."
"Who?" Qi Fang, who had been leaning against the table listening indifferently, suddenly lifted his sharp peach-blossom eyes before Yan Xue could even respond.
It had been over two years since the incident, and Miss Yan wasn’t as afraid of him as before. But under his piercing gaze, she still hesitated. "The man I was supposed to marry."
Qi Fang’s expression turned even colder, his lips curling slightly in mockery. "Your family really knows how to pick husbands."
He never would’ve guessed that the "young, talented technician" Zhou Lixin mentioned in his letter was Wu Xingde.
Of course he was "talented"—back then, Wu Xingde had just stolen their teacher’s work to claim credit, riding high on his success.
Qi Fang doubted the Yan family had no idea about Wu Xingde’s past or his connection to him. Surely they wouldn’t marry Miss Yan to Wu Xingde without digging into his background—how he’d risen so quickly.
His sharp, icy stare left Miss Yan speechless for a long moment. Yan Xue finally broke the silence. "You said he just got married?"
She glanced at Qi Fang, who noticed and reined in his intimidating aura.
Miss Yan relaxed slightly and nodded at Yan Xue. "I only found out a couple of days ago."
But if she’d chosen to break up with him, shouldn’t she have prepared herself for him marrying someone else? Why was she so upset?
Yan Xue sensed there was more. Sure enough, Miss Yan continued, "He married a divorced woman several years older than him. That wouldn’t be so bad, but her family—they’re terrible people!"
Tears spilled over as she spoke. "I know her family. Her brother was the ringleader who hurt so many people. Everyone curses him behind his back. Back then, he bullied and threatened her ex-husband’s family to force the divorce—even scared her ex-mother-in-law to death."
The early years had been chaotic, with families turning on each other to avoid trouble. But driving someone to their death was too much.
Now Yan Xue understood. Miss Yan wasn’t upset that Wu Xingde had married—she was horrified he’d married into such a family.
Even after breaking up with him, she’d held onto the image of him as gentle and principled. Not this—climbing the ladder at any cost.
Miss Yan’s world felt shattered. "Why would he do this? Wasn’t his work enough? Why get involved with these people?"
Because his career was failing, of course. Without a powerful backer, he’d lose everything.
Qi Fang gave her a look but stayed silent. Miss Yan, tearful, turned to Yan Xue. "How could he be like this?"
Even if she now believed her dream had been wrong—that Qi Fang would never retaliate over the broken engagement—she still couldn’t fathom what Wu Xingde and her father had done to provoke him.
And now, just two years after their breakup, Wu Xingde had married into such a family. She couldn’t believe it—and had no one else to talk to.
Miss Yan gripped Yan Xue’s hand. "I know I shouldn’t have come to you like this—it’s so rude. But I… I remember him being different!"
Her words tumbled out, disjointed. Having a long-held image shattered would shake anyone.
Yan Xue had been the first to encourage her to see the world, to tell her she didn’t need to rush into marriage. In her turmoil, Miss Yan had nowhere else to turn.
Yan Xue gently squeezed her hand. "It’s okay. You broke up with him—that’s stopping the loss in time."
Better than the novel’s timeline, where she’d lived with him for decades before discovering his true nature—and his secret children.
Yan Xue kept her voice calm and soothing. "By the way, last time you mentioned the village school was falling apart. Did you rebuild it?"
The topic shifted Miss Yan’s focus. "Yes! We dug the earth and built it with the villagers. The children have moved in already."
"And your roommate—the one who cried herself to sleep at night from homesickness?" Yan Xue asked with a smile.
"She’s fine now," Miss Yan said, a hint of her old pride returning. "Back then, it was my first time away from home too, and I didn’t cry."
Life in the countryside was hard, but staying busy helped her forget. At least this time, she didn’t seem as lost as before.
As they spoke, his hand remained clasped around Yan Xue's, making Qi Fang glance over once, then again, until his gaze lingered unwaveringly on their intertwined fingers.
Even someone as oblivious as Miss Yan couldn’t miss such an intense stare. She looked up in confusion, the traces of tears still glistening at the corners of her eyes. Yet, clearly unaware of the situation, she didn’t let go. Instead, another thought occurred to her, and she whispered to Yan Xue, "Earlier, he asked me if he knew Wu Xingde."
This made Yan Xue lift her eyes to Qi Fang, who shifted his gaze from their hands to Miss Yan’s face. "He did. We studied under the same mentor."
Miss Yan froze, completely unprepared for this connection between Qi Fang and Wu Xingde. Could it really be such a coincidence?
Before she could react, Qi Fang continued coolly, "He also wrote letters accusing my mentor of having foreign ties and leaking state secrets."
Miss Yan’s face flushed crimson all the way to her ears, as if she were the one who’d committed the act, not Wu Xingde.
She didn’t doubt Qi Fang’s words—there was no reason for him to lie. Besides, her perception of Wu Xingde had already shattered, making the revelation slightly easier to stomach.
Her hand instinctively withdrew, hovering awkwardly in the air. "I... I didn’t know. My family didn’t either..."
Under Qi Fang’s deep, silent stare, her voice gradually faded, her complexion paling.
How could her family not know? Wu Xingde had been introduced by one of her father’s friends.
And then another realization struck her—the reason Qi Fang had targeted her family in her dream.
Perhaps it had nothing to do with the broken engagement at all. Maybe it was all because of Wu Xingde’s betrayal...
Her voice trembled, but she mustered the courage to ask, "Your mentor... is he alright?"
"What do you think?" The look in Qi Fang’s eyes made her avert her gaze, her face now deathly white.
So that was it. And here she’d thought Qi Fang was petty, destroying her family over something as trivial as a canceled engagement.
She’d been deluding herself. No wonder, in her dream, he’d looked at her with such disgust...
A wave of nausea hit her—disgust at the fact that she’d spent over two decades in that dream married to such a monster.
And her father—how could he have let her marry someone like that? That hadn’t been a dream. It was a living nightmare.
And yet she’d gone to Qi Fang, begging for mercy, demanding he honor their engagement. What a joke...
The room fell into silence, leaving Miss Yan’s devastation painfully exposed.
After a long pause, she finally met Qi Fang’s eyes, her voice hoarse. "I’m sorry."
For this life and the last. For herself and for...
She turned to Yan Xue. "And I’m sorry to you too. For causing trouble—both times."
Wiping her tears, she stood abruptly. "I’ll go now." Then, to their surprise, she bowed deeply. "I’m sorry."
The real culprit remained unrepentant, yet here was an innocent person apologizing. Qi Fang sidestepped, refusing to accept it.
Yan Xue didn’t either, quickly stepping forward to stop her. "None of this is your fault. Besides, didn’t you already break up with him?"
Miss Yan might have been naive, but she wasn’t a bad person. None of this should have fallen on her shoulders—even in the original story, Qi Fang’s vengeance hadn’t been directed at her.
But Miss Yan insisted on completing her bow before heading for the door, where she ran into the Second Old Lady coaxing a child across the hall.
"Finished already? Won’t you stay for dinner?" the old woman asked warmly.
"No, thank you." Miss Yan smiled, her eyes still red. "I’ve troubled you enough. And... thank you."
At least they hadn’t blamed her. At least they hadn’t despised her for her actions. At least now she knew the truth instead of remaining a fool.
Her gaze lingered briefly on the chubby toddler inside the room—a pang of envy—before she finally took her leave.
Qi Fang picked up the cup she’d used and rinsed it, setting it back on the table. "At least she’s not completely brainless."
He was likely referring to her breaking up with Wu Xingde—clearly, he didn’t think highly of Miss Yan’s intelligence.
Yan Xue chuckled. "She’s naive, but that’s how she was raised."
Qi Fang glanced at her. "Didn’t she finish high school?"
Compared to Yan Xue, who claimed to have only completed middle school, Miss Yan seemed startlingly immature, almost childlike in her worldview.
"Education isn’t the same as experience," Yan Xue said. "If she’d been born a boy—the family heir—would the Yans have sheltered her this much?"
In the end, Miss Yan’s sheltered upbringing stemmed from not being the heir. The family had indulged her, leaving her ignorant of the world.
Yan Xue had never considered such coddling a blessing. She’d always preferred controlling her own fate over being shielded in ignorance.
But these ideas were still too progressive for the era, especially when voiced to a man. So she changed the subject. "Seems Wu Xingde’s really backed himself into a corner."
In the original story, Wu Xingde hadn’t been so deeply entangled with those people—his focus had been on academia, which was why he’d escaped the later purges.
But now, with this marriage and his brother-in-law’s connections, extricating himself would be impossible. He’d dug his own grave.
Qi Fang, however, was still fixated on their earlier conversation. "True. But if it were you, you’d never end up like her."
Yan Xue blinked. "How can you be so sure?"
"You’ve never been one to let others dictate your life," he answered without hesitation.
From the moment they’d married—from the way she’d downed two and a half jars of liquor to outmaneuver Yu Yongzhi—he’d known.
She was too sharp to miss the fact that he’d sent Liu Weiguo away as part of a plan. Yet she’d chosen to handle things herself anyway.
Sometimes he wished she’d rely on him more, that she wouldn’t push herself so hard. But she’d never allow herself to live as blindly as Miss Yan.
The thought softened his voice as he tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. "Next time, I won’t."
Leaving her in the dark, waiting and worrying, had probably been worse for her than facing the danger head-on.
It took Yan Xue a moment to parse his meaning from his expression. "If there’s a next time, anger won’t be my only reaction."
She hated repeating arguments over the same issue. Empty promises that changed nothing only made her feel disrespected, as if every word between them was a waste of time.
Qi Fang knew she meant it. And he knew that if their marriage became untenable, she had both the resolve and the means to walk away.
"Never again." He brushed a kiss to her forehead, then her nose, finally lingering at her lips. "From now on, I’ll listen to you."
The kiss was featherlight, his words murmured against her mouth, tender and intimate.
Ever since the arrival of Little Chubby, the couple had to sneak around even when revisiting old lessons or exploring new ones, leaving little room for moments like this. Yan Xue rose slightly on her tiptoes.
Then she heard the sound of Little Chubby’s babbling growing closer behind her—clearly, he’d had enough time with his great-grandma and was ready to return.
Before Yan Xue could react, the man took a long stride forward and firmly shut the door, which had been left slightly ajar.
Then he turned her around, lowering his head to continue where they’d left off. "Ignore him," he said, obviously referring to their son.
Yan Xue distinctly heard Little Chubby let out a confused sound as the door to their room suddenly closed tight.
The Second Old Lady paused in her steps before turning back. "Your mom and dad aren’t done talking yet. Great-Grandma will play with you a little longer."
Another string of babbles followed, but Qi Fang, leaning lazily against the door with his peach-blossom eyes, made it clear he had no idea what any of it meant.
With so much information to process at once, Yan Xue worried Miss Yan might need time to adjust, so she went to check on her at the guesthouse the next day.
But the staff informed her that Miss Yan had already left—she’d taken the early train out of town.
Her eyes had been slightly swollen when she departed, a sign she’d cried again, but her spirits seemed steady. She’d even left a letter for Yan Xue.
"I figured you’d come to check on me. You’re just that kind—unlike that Qi Fang."
The letter opened with a jab. Even though the misunderstanding had been cleared up, Miss Yan still couldn’t resist taking a dig at Qi Fang, just as he did whenever her name came up.
It was as if the two were born at odds, unable to see eye to eye—ironic, considering they’d once been engaged.
Yan Xue kept reading. The rest of the letter didn’t mention Qi Fang again. Instead, Miss Yan reassured her that she’d be fine on her own.
"You were right—it’s a good thing I didn’t marry him. I’m still young, and marriage isn’t the only path. There’s so much else to do. That pilot project of yours, for example—it’s doing well, isn’t it?"
So Miss Yan knew about the project. She must’ve seen the newspaper clipping on the guesthouse’s front desk.
That’s right—the guesthouse had proudly displayed a provincial newspaper on its wall, ensuring no visitor missed the fact that someone from their forestry center had made the news.
At first, Yan Xue had felt a twinge of embarrassment seeing her own face everywhere. But over time, she’d grown used to it, even pretending the photo wasn’t of her and Qi Fang.
Miss Yan conveniently ignored Qi Fang’s presence in the article, heaping praise solely on Yan Xue before ending with a sincere "Thank you."
Only Yan Xue would understand the weight behind those words. For Miss Yan, leaving Wu Xingde meant truly breaking free from the fate she’d once dreamed of.
Whether she remained alone or found someone new, she’d never again suffer the betrayal and ruin that had awaited her in the original story.
Not long after Miss Yan’s departure, the pilot project entered the autumn harvest phase. By October, the gathering stopped, and by November, all the wood ear mushrooms had sold out.
When Secretary Lang went to the bureau to report their earnings, even Qu Mingli was surprised. "This early again?"
He’d heard the second year was the real boom for wood ear yields. With Jinchuan Forestry Center planting a new batch this year, production should’ve at least doubled. He’d expected sales to take longer.
Secretary Lang couldn’t hide his grin. "What can I say? The young folks down there are too efficient. We nearly ran out before November."
The pride in his voice was unmistakable, and Qu Mingli couldn’t help but chuckle.
But when he reviewed the accounts, the numbers spoke for themselves. Qu Mingli immediately called in the bureau’s accountant to record the figures on the spot.
After the accountant deposited the money, others began asking, "So Jinchuan’s already reported? How much this year?"
"Jinchuan’s reported already?" someone else echoed, surprised. "But their sales should’ve been tougher this year. It’s barely even winter."
Many in the bureau had doubted Jinchuan’s decision to sell mushroom spawn.
More forestry centers growing wood ears meant more competition—especially with six new ones jumping in.
Some had pitied Jinchuan, others had gloated, but everyone agreed on one thing: Jinchuan’s sales would struggle this year.
Yet here they were, reporting in November again. The accountant nodded in confirmation.
"Seriously? How much?" The questioner half-suspected Jinchuan had skipped planting new batches or that second-year yields had disappointed.
Then the accountant held up five fingers.
"Five thousand? That much?"
Others gasped. If 20% was five grand, Jinchuan must’ve made twenty to thirty thousand this year.
The accountant nodded again, adding another five. "Five thousand five hundred and change. And that’s with prices dropping this year."
"Is growing these things really that profitable?" someone muttered. "Or is it just Jinchuan?"
"Probably just Jinchuan. They made the papers, plus they’ve got last year’s buyers. Quality sells."
That made sense. Even if other centers struggled, Jinchuan’s reputation would keep demand steady.
Now the question was: Which forestry center would report next, and when? Hopefully not all of them would drag it out till year-end.
A few days later, Wangshan Forestry Center came in, handing over three thousand-something.
Even the accountant blinked at the stack of bills. "You sold out this fast too?"
"All thanks to Jinchuan—and Technician Yan," Secretary Wangshan beamed, showering praise before leaving without elaborating.
Next was Xiao Jinchuan’s secretary, delivering over two thousand.
They’d played it safe this year, planting less than bold Wangshan.
Just these three centers had brought in over ten thousand—all without the bureau lifting a finger beyond granting permissions.
Even Director Liu had to admit, "Wood ears really do rake in cash." Then he sighed. "Why couldn’t I have been the one running things down there?"
By December, three of the remaining four centers had reported—all except Hongshi Forestry Center.
The delay was frustrating. Everyone was curious about the final numbers, and the bureau needed to close its books before year-end.
Finally, Qu Mingli called to press them. Hongshi’s response? "We haven’t finished selling yet."
"Just submit what you’ve got so the bureau can wrap up. The rest can wait till next year," Qu Mingli insisted.
At last, Secretary Zhao of Hongshi came in—reluctantly—to hand over their earnings.
Six hundred eighty-six yuan and ninety-one fen.
Little Qi Yanyu: @#$%... Just you wait till I can talk!
