Chapter 10: The West Gate Qing

Flashbacks of past events flickered through Li Heng’s mind; he deliberately croaked out, “Who’s stealing trees?”

“Huh?”

Startled by the sudden voice, Yang Yingwen froze, her body stiffening; it took her a moment to react.

She looked around and saw a face half-smiling, half-sneering.

She instantly relaxed, patted her full chest, and complained, “It’s you? What are you playing at? You scared me half to death.”

Then she asked, “How come a lazybones like you came into the mountains?”

Li Heng immediately bristled, raising an eyebrow: “What? That’s really how you see me? Lazy?”

“Heaven! You’re not lazy? How dare you say that? Your skin’s whiter than Chenglirende , everyone behind your back says you’re like a needlework maiden.” Yang Yingwen shot back without mercy.

Li Heng leaned forward, curious: “What else do they say about me behind my back?”

Yang Yingwen glanced sideways at him, serious: “Better not ask. Nothing good.”

Li Heng blinked. “I’ve always been sincere and kind to people—how could my reputation be this bad?”

Yang Yingwen snorted. “Are you really this stupid, or just pretending?”

“Just look at how you tricked Chen Zijin into bed—that scandal alone, go ask around, which family dares let their daughter near you now?”

Exposed, Li Heng’s face flushed with shame; he snapped back: “Don’t talk nonsense—we were mutually in love.”

“What good does yelling at me do? I’m not the one gossiping behind your back.”

After saying that, Yang Yingwen still wasn’t satisfied and pressed further: “Besides, you had the nerve to do something like that—don’t you think people have the right to talk?”

Li Heng pointed at her, deeply frustrated: “So after all these years as friends, you still don’t trust me?”

Yang Yingwen said: “You’ve got a track record—you were a troublemaker back in junior high.”

Damn it! Always digging up the past—this conversation was over. Li Heng stepped past her, ready to drag the felled tung tree home.

Seeing this, Yang Yingwen panicked and hurried after him: “Hey! Li Heng, don’t do that—I worked hard to find this dead tree, I need it for kindling…”

In the local dialect, “tong huo” meant kindling.

Before she finished, Li Heng turned: “Just tell me—is this mountain ours, the Li family’s?”

Hearing that, she opened her mouth but shut it again, knowing she was in the wrong.

Li Heng had dragged the tung tree out of the mountains with tremendous effort, only to find the girl still trailing him silently.

So he teased her: “Beg me. Say something nice, and I’ll give you the tree.”

Yang Yingwen stood firm: “You’re ridiculous. Don’t even think about it—I’ll just find another one.”

“Then go find one. I’m going home. Thanks for cutting the tree.”

Saying that, he slung the tree over his shoulder and turned to leave.

To his surprise, the girl didn’t move, just stared straight at him where she stood.

Li Heng studied her face for a moment, then couldn’t help speaking: “What are you standing there for? Come on—I’ll walk you home.”

Yang Yingwen refused outright: “No, don’t. I can’t accept that—I don’t want people gossiping about us.”

Li Heng raised an eyebrow: “What’s that supposed to mean? Say it again. Do you think walking with me is embarrassing?”

She’d won—no need to press further. Yang Yingwen gave a rustic smile and turned back into the mountains without another word.

Knowing her nature after all these years, Li Heng understood she wasn’t truly angry. He set the tree down in an open spot to avoid blocking the path, then followed.

After searching two hillsides, his effort paid off—he found another dead pine tree. But this spot wasn’t Li family land anymore.

Whatever.

As the old saying goes: stealing firewood isn’t stealing—if you get it, it’s skill.

As long as you’re not caught red-handed and don’t go too far, everyone turns a blind eye. After all, in the countryside, who hasn’t done something like this?

Who among them has clean hands?

The dead pine was huge—he chopped it into four logs and tied three bundles. Li Heng and Yang Yingwen made four trips to haul it all out of the mountains.

By then, both were drenched in sweat, utterly exhausted, collapsed like dogs.

Passing a mountain spring, they happily dropped to the ground, gulped down water, washed their hands and faces, and finally sat to rest.

She asked: “Chun Nainai passed away—why didn’t Zijin come back? Do you still keep in touch?”

Li Heng shook his head: “No. But her sister dropped off a bag of study materials for me yesterday afternoon.”

Yang Yingwen gasped: “Chen Zitong gave you that? Don’t lie—you treated her sister like that, how could she not hate you?”

Li Heng snapped: “Enough already. Can we just drop this?”

Yang Yingwen, sensing his mood, dropped the subject. After chatting a while longer, they each went home.

The tung tree was the best kindling—Li Heng left it for her, intending to take only one log of the dead pine.

But she refused, insisting on splitting it evenly. She even said she was already getting the better deal.

Li Heng pushed back several times, but couldn’t sway her—finally, he gave in.

Before parting, he asked again: “You’re sure you don’t want me to walk you home?”

Yang Yingwen refused bluntly: “Leave me alone. From now on, pretend you don’t know me in the village—I still have to get married someday.”

Damn it!

A fickle, ungrateful brat. Li Heng spat inwardly, slung the wood over his right shoulder, gripped the rabbit in his left hand, and hurried toward the crossroads.

…

That evening, his elder sister arrived again, belly swollen, to mooch dinner.

Li Yan never knew the meaning of politeness when visiting home—before even stepping through the door, she shouted loudly:

“Brother! I heard you got lucky and shot a wild rabbit—is that true?”

Li Heng had just finished killing the rabbit and was about to skin it; seeing her rush in so fast, he urgently warned:

“Sister, walk slower—don’t fall.”

“No problem, I’m careful.”

Seeing the large rabbit, Li Yan beamed, her eyes gleaming as she touched it:

“So much meat—must be over four catties. This is a good dish. Brother, cook extra rice tonight—I’m staying for dinner.”

“...”

This was exactly what Li Heng expected. He nodded and agreed.

Next, the two siblings squatted by the back door, plucking the rabbit’s fur—one on each side—quickly stripping it clean.

Soon after, his second sister returned from cutting pigweed, carrying four large baskets on her back—two for the ox, two chopped fine for pig feed.

In between, Li Lan asked: “Is that dead pine tree outside the courtyard yours?”

Li Heng, slicing open the rabbit’s innards with a kitchen knife, didn’t look up: “Yes.”

Li Lan asked again: “Only half? Where’s the other half? Why didn’t you bring it all back?”

Suddenly, his elder sister chimed in: “I know, I know—it’s at Yang Yingwen’s place. I saw it when I passed by her gate.”

Then, with a clueless grin, she asked: “Brother, wait—that doesn’t make sense. Why does Yang Yingwen have a tung tree too?

You got cheated! I should go over there and take half the tung tree back.”

Li Heng: “...”

Li Lan: “...”

Oh my! What’s inside your head, sister?

Just tofu dregs?

You always pick the worst moment to speak—so tactless.

Li Heng quickly said: “Sister, no need. I went hunting rabbits myself and ran out of time.”

Li Lan wasn’t easily fooled. Hearing “tung tree,” she suddenly remembered something, dropped the pigweed, and headed straight for the back mountain.

Soon, she found the tree by memory—but the tree was gone, only a stump the width of a bowl remained.

Li Lan bent down, examining the fresh cut marks—she instantly understood.

Yesterday, while gathering pigweed, she’d spotted the dead tree from afar, but hadn’t had time to cut it—never imagined this wastrel had given it to a girl.

Back home, Li Lan said nothing about the tung tree—until her sister was out of earshot, then suddenly blurted:

“I get Chen Zijin—she’s beautiful. But Yang Yingwen? How could you?”

It wasn’t that Yang Yingwen was ugly—just that her looks and aura were in a different world from Chen Zijin’s, impossible to compare.

Among neighboring villages, as a beauty herself, she recognized only Chen Zijin as her equal.

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(End of Chapter)