The conditions had improved slightly back then. Chi Wu felt for the first time that his stomach wasn't just sloshing with water when he went out each day. Finally, they could move from porridge to steamed buns. For Chi Wu, this was nothing short of living like a deity—yet Cheng Ying had already envisioned far ahead. She'd even led Chi Wu in sneaking the family's heirloom treasure out of their home and selling it in town.

Honestly, Chi Wu didn’t understand her actions at first. What better life than this? A full stomach, no arguments among the family—it was perfect enough for him. But after spending time with Cheng Ying, admiration had begun to blind Chi Wu. Even when doubts whispered inside his head, he still followed her wholeheartedly into town. His legs grew numb pedaling their bike all day long.

The heat was merciless—Chi Wu wore a tiger skin around his waist, and the sweat soaked through it, leaving his lower abdomen damp and irritated with prickly heat. Yet he didn’t utter a single groan. The item in his hands felt too valuable—he remembered hearing the price at the medicine shop: five thousand yuan. That number stunned him. Who carried such wealth? Even their village’s collective savings couldn’t match it.

When Chi Wu saw Cheng Ying, she seemed to glow goldenly through his eyes. Naturally, he felt like they’d accomplished something huge by retrieving and selling that tiger skin. But now there was no turning back. He wasn’t even sure if they could return home safely with the tiger skin alone.

The moment reality hit—when Cheng Ying accepted five thousand yuan in exchange—he nearly lost feeling in his heart entirely. That amount! It surpassed anything Chi Wu or his grandmother had ever seen, maybe even outstripped what their village head earned over a lifetime. How would they carry such money home without it being stolen?

Cheng Ying simply gathered the cash into a burlap sack and dragged him out of the shop. Chi Wu’s soles trembled; he feared someone might snatch them from the crowd at any second, given all the rumors swirling about their village. Only when he saw Cheng Ying remain composed did his anxiety ease slightly. After all, if she—a girl—could stay calm, how much more should he, a man, hold it together?

Trust in Cheng Ying had always come naturally to Chi Wu; her steady hand eased his mind until they reached the hospital and saw her dump the damp sack carelessly on the floor. Then fear gripped him again—it was clear even she lacked certainty.

That time pedaling back home, Chi Wu felt nothing—no fatigue, no pain—only a desperate need to move faster. It wasn’t until they reached familiar ground that his legs throbbed like needles were piercing through them.

When Cheng Ying wept, Chi Wu’s heart twisted with helplessness. He swore then he’d become stronger—to never let her cry again. As he hugged her, the world seemed to shrink to just their two figures. The feelings stirred up in him defied definition—it was bittersweet knowing she cried yet comforting in that moment of closeness.

They clung together for a long while before separating eventually. On the way back to the village Chi Wu felt lost and dazed. When he returned home, his legs were swollen. He bit his tongue through the pain—he knew their actions had been monumental enough to provoke Old Lady’s wrath.

When Cheng Ying was beaten by the old woman, Chi Wu felt possessed—like Cheng Ying’s father had temporarily taken over his body. How could he have instinctively stepped in front of her when he feared beatings so much? It made no sense until later.

He didn’t realize then how attached he’d become to Cheng Ying being struck down. After all, she had accomplished something huge despite her tender age, and it left him reeling with disbelief.

Afterward, Chi Wu’s legs became barely functional. Yang Zhi said they were overworked; if they didn’t rest properly, chronic pain would follow. During that time, however, Chi Wu felt more content than ever before—Old Lady took care of him daily, and Cheng Ying buzzed around him constantly, even massaging his legs.

Chi Wu worried the massage might never end if Cheng Ying’s delicate fingers kept stroking them; he simply didn’t want to recover. She bathed him meticulously too, scrubbing the prickly heat from his waist.

Cheng Ying seemed softer and more beautiful than ever during those days. Chi Wu even grew taller and fairer in complexion—especially his hands. He fretted over their appearance, fearing they’d look shabby compared to Cheng Ying’s elegant ones.

He found himself washing his hands obsessively, scrubbing until the nail beds gleamed clean. When looking at others now, he studied their hands first. So far no one else matched Cheng Ying in elegance or cleanliness. It dawned on him then that Old Lady’s attitude toward Chi Wu had shifted—though not to Cheng Ying’s level of favoritism, it was certainly kinder than with Cheng Ming and the rest.

Chi Wu guessed this must be because in her eyes he and Cheng Ying shared hardships and had become a true part of the family. The more time passed, the clearer his understanding became: Old Lady truly believed their unity deserved special treatment.

It took Chi Wu a long time to regain feeling in his legs, but he never regretted it—this was when they first found harmony together, the beginning of their mutual acceptance and affection. Even seeing Old Lady weep over the tiger skin while wiping her tears away, Chi Wu forgot about the beating stick she’d used on him.

He resolved then to always remember this kindness toward Old Lady—to make amends for stealing her beloved tiger skin in future years. He even began to think he was a forgiving person after all.

When his legs finally healed and he saw Cheng Ying alone working in the mountains, guilt gnawed at him. Why had they sold the tiger skin only to buy this mountain land? Why did she have to work so hard now when it could’ve spared her? But Cheng Ying insisted—this land was bought with Old Lady’s most cherished possession; there was no time to waste on delays.

It struck Chi Wu then how deeply Cheng Ying carried guilt about selling the tiger skin. All he could do was labor alongside her, watching helplessly as blisters formed on those once-soft hands. She stopped attending school altogether and worked in the mountains every day instead. Chi Wu hated his own uselessness—how he longed to quit school too and join her in this endless toil.

But he wasn’t capable like Cheng Ying was. Though Cheng Yong occasionally gave him extra lessons, he only ranked slightly better than others at school—it simply couldn’t match Cheng Ying’s brilliance. This realization pushed Chi Wu into studying even harder, dreaming of surpassing her academic achievements without attending classes regularly himself.

Each night he stayed up an hour longer—reading and writing with purpose not for praise but to gain more time working in the mountains alongside Cheng Ying. He began seeing his family differently too. Why couldn’t they help Cheng Ying? Why did she always have to bear all this burden alone? For a while, Chi Wu felt estranged from them.

During summers and winters when he worked with Cheng Ying, it seemed like only the two of them truly mattered in her world now—though Old Lady still held significance for Cheng Ying. He believed without doubt that his bond surpassed even that between Cheng Ying’s parents and herself.

For a long time Chi Wu struggled to understand this dynamic fully. Seeing how hard she worked made him ache with sympathy—he knew she needed money, he understood her reluctance to travel into town for the exhausting trips. On one occasion he even dared to take packs of honeysuckle himself all the way into town, bargaining at every apothecary just to earn a few more coins through extra sales.

That was his first taste of earning money—of feeling successful and realizing how empowering it was to hold wealth in your own hands. Afterward, Chi Wu periodically took their herbal goods or mountain produce into town with clever ways to turn them into cash for Cheng Ying. Each time she praised him, her words felt better than any pocket full of coins could ever make him feel.

With these private savings the two shared a secret treasure—something only they knew about that made their connection even more intimate.

When Pool Family elders visited later on, Chi Wu couldn’t understand why Cheng Ying had to return to town at all. Wasn’t staying together forever better? He simply didn’t grasp how her parents could let go of their daughter so easily into village life. For a while he regarded Yang Zhi with suspicion—Cheng Yong was fine enough, but wasn't Yang Zhi Cheng Ying’s real mother too?

Eventually Chi Wu came to terms with this. Others mistreating Cheng Ying didn’t matter—he would more than compensate for it himself. This led to temporary tensions between him and Yang Zhi due to his perception that she disliked Cheng Ying enough to just abandon her daughter so easily.

This experience shaped his future expectations toward both Cheng Yong and Yang Zhi—no need for high standards when he and Cheng Ying already understood each other perfectly well. After all, Cheng Ying had never relied on anyone else from the very beginning; Chi Wu learned strength through her influence too. From then onward, he laid foundations not just for himself but also for Cheng Ying’s future growth as well.