Volume One, Chapter Four: The Fairy's Gift of a Meal

After contracting tuberculosis, Shen Yubai stopped eating with the Shen family, and Lady Luo would bring his meals alone to his room.

Today, as usual, it was sorghum porridge.

Though called sorghum porridge, it was mostly just sorghum water, with a few floating fragments of vegetable leaves.

It was clear that the rice soup was ladled from above.

Finishing this only filled the stomach deceitfully; within half an hour, hunger would return.

The porridge grains at the bottom had likely been divided among the other branches of the family.

Shen Yubai’s expression was gloomy.

Lady Luo picked up the bowl, stirring the rice soup with a spoon, forcing a faint smile. “Today, I pleaded with your grandmother and got some extra sorghum grains scooped in for you. They’re hidden at the bottom of the bowl; once you finish the soup, they’ll show up.”

“Mother, we don’t have to eat this tonight.”

Lady Luo’s expression stiffened. She tried to say something but was interrupted by Shen Yubai, who instructed her to close the door.

It wasn’t enough to simply close the wooden door; the latch had to be fastened, and the windows shut as well.

After finishing these tasks and sitting back on the bed, Lady Luo saw Shen Yubai shift aside, revealing four transparent long boxes. Inside were, astonishingly, white rice and dishes.

She looked at Shen Yubai in shock. “Where did this food come from?”

“A gift from the Fairy.”

Shen Yubai did not want to disclose the matter of the scroll to his mother.

Not out of distrust—he knew that only a handful of people should be privy to the secret.

Besides, he hadn’t lied; Su Jin was indeed the Fairy.

“This matter must never be spoken of, or both you and I will be doomed.”

Shen Yubai’s warning startled Lady Luo, causing the question on her lips to be swallowed once more.

She nodded anxiously, covering her mouth with both hands, afraid to say or ask too much.

Illiterate herself, she trusted her son’s words implicitly—his knowledge far surpassed hers, so whatever he said was gospel.

Following his instructions, they lifted the lids, and the aroma of the food filled their nostrils.

Both swallowed hard.

Shen Yubai took the bowl with steamed eggs for himself and gave the bowl with meat to Lady Luo.

The steamed eggs were delicate and smooth, exuding an enticing fragrance. Shen Yubai scooped a spoonful and tasted it; the egg custard trembled slightly, showcasing its tender freshness on his tongue.

The scent of eggs blossomed across his taste buds, the seasoning perfectly enhancing their savory fragrance.

He couldn’t help but eat spoonful after spoonful, an overwhelming sense of satisfaction rising within him.

The rice was fragrant, sweet, and fine—nothing like the roughness of sorghum.

His appetite suddenly awakened, Shen Yubai consumed half a bowl of rice and finished the steamed eggs and stir-fried cucumber.

Beside him, Lady Luo joyfully added the meat from her bowl into his, but he stopped her.

“My body can’t handle this meat, Mother. You eat it yourself.”

“I don’t like meat; I’ll save it until you have an appetite.”

Lady Luo cheerfully took all the meat out, wrapped it in oil paper, and tucked it beneath the cotton bedding.

After checking several times to ensure no one would notice, she picked up the sorghum rice soup and began to drink it.

At Shen Yubai’s insistence, she tried some white rice but adamantly refused to eat the stir-fried vegetables or meat.

The remaining food stayed in the two transparent lunch boxes, hidden beside the bed.

After eating, dusk had fallen.

The villagers, unwilling to waste oil for lamps, went to bed early once darkness made it impossible to see.

The night was exceedingly difficult for Shen Yubai.

He coughed throughout, unable to find peace or sleep.

After Lady Luo left, Shen Yubai lay in bed. A cup of water and a clean cloth rested on a wooden chair beside him, all prepared for the long night of coughing until dawn.

Perhaps the effort of writing a letter that afternoon had taxed him; his eyelids grew heavier.

Closing his eyes, he soon lost consciousness.

When he opened them again, the sun was high in the sky.

A flicker of surprise flashed in Shen Yubai’s dark eyes—he had slept soundly through the night?

Not coughing all night had eased the weight on his chest considerably, and his spirits were far improved.

He pulled out the medicine and clutched it tightly as if holding onto a sliver of hope.

Medicine from a thousand years in the future was so miraculous; just one dose significantly reduced his coughing.

If taken consistently, perhaps it could truly cure his tuberculosis?

A tempest stirred within Shen Yubai’s dark eyes.

He pressed his lips together, took the medicine from its container, swallowed the capsule according to the instructions, and drank the water on the chair beside the bed.

He drank somewhat hastily and choked, coughing a little.

Outside, the voice of his younger aunt, Shen Xiulian, rang out: “A morning visit to your maternal home and not a single word to be found! I came looking for you!”

Lady Luo’s slightly reserved voice responded: “Her maternal home is rather far; the journey took some time.”

She had left before dawn to visit her family, hoping to return before lunch to avoid upsetting the in-laws.

Despite hurrying, she still incurred the younger aunt’s displeasure.

Shen Xiulian snorted coldly, tossed out, “Father and mother are calling you to the main room,” then turned and left.

Lady Luo entered the room, hastily pressed an oil paper-wrapped package into Shen Yubai’s hand, and hurried after her.

Shen Yubai quietly watched Lady Luo’s retreating figure.

Usually, it was grandmother who sought out his mother, but today grandfather was waiting in the main room. It seemed they had come for him, the third branch.

He got out of bed and, supporting himself on the wall, slowly made his way to the main room.

By the time he entered, a faint flush had risen in his pale cheeks, and a thin sheen of sweat covered his forehead.

Upon seeing him, everyone in the main room instinctively took a few cautious steps back.

Shen Yubai stopped.

Lady Luo hurriedly brought a chair over for him. “Why did you get out of bed?”

Shen Yubai sat down slowly. “I’m feeling better today, so I wanted to come see grandfather and grandmother.”

He bowed his head slightly to the two elders seated at the head of the room, a gesture of respect.

“You have tuberculosis but are wandering around; what if you infect others?” Shen Xiulian snapped angrily.

Though the others remained silent, they kept their distance and regarded Shen Yubai with wary, barely concealed disdain.

Lady Luo quickly said, “I haven’t caught it despite all this time, so it’s clear Yubai’s illness isn’t contagious.”

Shen Xiulian was about to retort, but Old Man Shen scolded, “Enough, eldest brother, speak of serious matters.”

Eldest brother Shen Shouzhong smiled and said, “Mr. Zhu from the clan academy has taken a liking to Hongye and intends to accept him as a disciple.”

Here, the family relations were explained.

Old Man Shen and Madam Zheng had three sons and one daughter: eldest son Shen Shouzhong, second son Shen Shouyi, and third son Shen Shouxin, who was Shen Yubai’s father.

The youngest was their daughter, Shen Xiulian, who was fifteen and engaged but not yet married.

Shen Hongye was the only son of eldest brother Shen Shouzhong, the Shen family’s eldest grandson, currently studying at the clan academy.

Since Shen Yubai fell ill, Shen Hongye had become the family’s hope for revival.

Upon hearing this good news, smiles appeared across the faces of the Shen family.

“Mr. Zhu is the most learned teacher at our clan academy, specially invited by the clan leader. If Hongye becomes his disciple, it will bring great honor to our family in the clan.”

Shen Shouzhong spoke at length, proud.

Madam Zheng added quickly, “It’s Hongye’s talent; among so many students, Mr. Zhu singled him out.”

“Mother is right. That’s why we’re thinking of presenting a proper gift to Mr. Zhu for the apprenticeship ceremony. Mr. Zhu’s inkstone is broken, and coincidentally, Yubai has a fine inkstone. We’re considering gifting it to Mr. Zhu.”

All eyes turned sharply to Shen Yubai and Lady Luo.

A heavy blow struck Shen Yubai’s heart.

They had come for his inkstone.

Lady Luo hurriedly said, “That was a gift from Shouxin to Yubai on his tenth birthday; Yubai treasures it like his own eye…”

Madam Zheng cut her off bluntly, “Who knows how long he’ll live? He can’t even use the inkstone. What’s the point of keeping it? Better to give it to Mr. Zhu and help Hongye secure his future!”