26 - Little Peasant Wife

Every word he spoke came from the heart, and Han Dalaoye was moved to tears. At that moment, a young man entered the hall, lifted his robes, and knelt before Han Laotaiye. His features were handsome, and he carried a scholarly grace that was at odds with the dilapidated surroundings. This was Han Jiuren, Han Youwei. After kowtowing, he said, "Thank you, Grandfather, for thinking of me. I promise to study diligently and earn accolades for the Han family." His eyes were bright, and there was a sophistication unusual for a scholar, making him a promising candidate for a government position. Han Laotaiye acknowledged him with satisfaction and instructed Han Dalaoye to help him up. They exchanged a few words concerning his studies, which Han Youwei answered one by one. Once Han Laotaiye retired to his room to rest, Han Youwei's expression darkened. He thought to himself: There's no need to concern myself with Jing Aoxue. She has nothing to do with him, and the Han family had wronged her in the past. He had sent someone to teach her a lesson, so it was only natural she would seek revenge. Now that the debt was settled, and given her mysterious background and potential skills, it was unwise to make her an enemy. Best to let it go for now. What he needed to focus on was the opportunity his classmates at the academy had mentioned. A high-ranking official was expected to pass through the town with his children, presenting a chance he couldn't afford to miss. With that in mind, he returned to his room to strategize. Jing Aoxue was oblivious to the happenings at the Han household. Holding Liu Er, she walked around the thatched hut, showing her their future home before entering through the main door. Casually, she stopped someone and asked, "Where is Shen Lümàn?" Having not seen her during the walkaround, she wondered where Shen Lümàn had wandered off to. The young man she questioned was burly and muscular, standing half a head taller than Jing Aoxue. He had a cold demeanor and a hint of fierceness. "She went to the mountain," he replied curtly. Jing Aoxue was unfazed by his attitude and simply nodded. Then she asked, "Where's Wu Zhian?" His expression immediately darkened, "Why do you want to see him?" Jing Aoxue looked at him puzzled and said, "I have business with him. Just tell me where he is, I need to speak with him directly." The young man offered a knowing smile and said, "I'm his brother. You can talk to me about his matters." Jing Aoxue looked at his unremarkable face and thought this must be Wu Zhiyong, back from the army, resembling Wu Zhian a bit. The brothers had vastly different temperaments. Wu Zhian exuded the honest simplicity typical of rural folk, whereas this man carried a soldier's stern and fierce aura. Jing Aoxue smirked playfully. She had a good impression of military men, but lamentably, this one had previously "been forced" to covet Shen Lümàn. She had warned Shen Lümàn to steer clear of him, and now seeing him in person did not improve her mood. The angrier she was, the more she smiled and said, "I see. Then never mind." She wasn't particularly insistent on finding Wu Zhian, yet knew that finding someone else familiar would be cumbersome. Still, presenting her concerns to Wu Zhiyong made her feel at a disadvantage, especially since she already lost in terms of height. She was about 1.78 meters tall, similar to her height in the post-apocalyptic world, but Wu Zhiyong was 1.9 meters, and besides the height difference, his beefy physique far exceeded hers. Jing Aoxue bit her lip, thinking: Just a muscled brute. If it ever came to a real fight, who knows who would win. Wu Zhiyong's eyes flickered; he could clearly see the lethal intent and bloodlust in Jing Aoxue's eyes, a look he recognized from his battle-stained experiences. Yet he had heard of her from his father and brother, and knew how Jing Aoxue was reputed: squandering her wife’s earnings, physically abusing her wife and child, and as a married subhuman, entangled with village men. How could he think favorably of Jing Aoxue? Part of him felt Shen Lümàn deserved better. In the few days he spent with her, he had grown to admire Shen Lümàn—not romantically, but appreciating her spirited nature and adept skills. Another part of him was envious of such pure affection. He had once known it himself; marrying young and having children had been the happiest time of his life. But then he was forcibly conscripted by the government. Most villagers were affluent and could pay the fee to avoid conscription, but his family was too poor, and he had no choice but to go to the battlefield. When he returned home after the war, he learned his wife had died of illness years prior, and he was devastated, unable even to stand. For days, he was in a stupor until the thought of his parents and child brought him back to reality and he adapted again to village life. Having lost his beloved, with no chance to cherish her, seeing someone like Jing Aoxue treating the virtuous Shen Lümàn so poorly was infuriating. When she mentioned his brother again, his instinct was to assume her intentions were bad and decided to teach her a lesson. So he coldly said, "My brother says you’re skilled. How about sparring with me?" Jing Aoxue arched an eyebrow, looking every bit the playboy, making Wu Zhiyong's gaze even sharper. Challenged, Jing Aoxue felt her competitive spirit stir and was ready to test her Level-2 wood-based power. When the opponent closed in, there was no need for formalities. She agreed cheerily, setting Liu Er down before walking toward an open area, with Wu Zhiyong following close behind. Standing opposite each other on the vacant ground, both had eyes burning with anticipation. Without needing a signal, they immediately launched into combat... Chapter 23: Softness Wu Zhiyong's punches were swift and powerful, the force of them causing Jing Aoxue's long hair to flutter—demonstrating his formidable strength. Yet, Jing Aoxue effortlessly evaded each strike, her movements appearing almost casual, as if it were all just a coincidence. Wu Zhiyong's eyes flickered with realization as his next punch met thin air once more. A single evasion could be mere luck, but twice clearly indicated her skill. With a grim expression, he recognized her as no ordinary opponent and increased his power. Jing Aoxue matched his intensity, and the two continued their clashing dance. Their styles were markedly different: Wu Zhiyong's moves were broad and forceful, each strike carrying a strong gust—a testament to what could happen if they landed. Jing Aoxue, however, moved with a fluidity and softness intrinsic to women, yet she embodied 'yielding overcome the unyielding.' Face to face with Wu Zhiyong, he couldn't land a hit on her, while she deftly used his force against him, leaving him battered and hurting. Despite the differences in their approaches, they both shared the fundamental goal: to overpower the adversary swiftly. Fortunately, without a deep-seated grudge between them, their fight was simply a sparring session, and they held back to some degree. The commotion they stirred attracted the attention of nearby villagers, who emerged out of curiosity, tools in hand, to witness the match. Most of the onlookers were young and robust. Rather than intervening, they cheered, adding to the excitement with shouts of, "Harder! Faster!" Liu Er, clinging tightly to the rabbit in her arms, frowned. Being so tiny, nobody noticed her as she watched the scene with a mix of fear and awe, instinctively searching for Shen Lümàn. On the open ground, Jing Aoxue moved like a slippery fish, frustrating Wu Zhiyong to no end as he failed to even graze her clothing, while she landed increasingly heavier blows. Jing Aoxue had no intention of using her powers to swiftly subdue Wu Zhiyong initially; instead, she channeled her wood-based abilities throughout her body, invigorating herself. While Wu Zhiyong began to tire, she remained calm and composed, not a drop of sweat on her face. Panting heavily, Wu Zhiyong, who on the battlefield could single-handedly take on ten foes and was renowned among enemies, was growing increasingly irritated. His movements grew more reckless. Jing Aoxue chuckled lightly, further incensing Wu Zhiyong, whose actions became erratic. Estimating the reserves of her wood-based powers, she chose to test their duration, maintaining a steady output. After roughly fifteen minutes of combat, she found her energy reserves were still halfway full. This exceeded her expectations; she recalled that during the apocalypse, the initial phase of her Level-2 wood ability allowed for ten minutes of use. Mid-phase was twenty minutes, and late-phase thirty minutes. Now, her Level-2 power seemed to sustain for thirty minutes in its initial stage, indicating her abilities were several times stronger than in the apocalypse. Pleased with this realization, she deftly dodged another of Wu Zhiyong's fierce attacks, her gaze sharp and focused on him. While he was indeed a formidable adversary, she was confident he couldn't defeat her. Not out of arrogance, but rather because Wu Zhiyong, despite his years in the army and adept killing skills, had many superfluous actions that wasted energy without results. His raw strength might have toppled ordinary folk in few moves, but against her, it foretold only his exhaustion and eventual defeat. In the post-apocalyptic world, aware of the wood elements' limited lethality and the scarcity of firearms, Jing Aoxue had honed her combat skills. Training under various martial arts experts in a survivor's base, she tailored a style that allowed her to incapacitate foes efficiently with minimal effort. This sparring bout had stretched on partly to gauge the extent of her wood ability. Having achieved that goal, she no longer lingered. Narrowing her eyes, she lunged at Wu Zhiyong faster than a blink, landing a punch to his abdomen that sent him flying several meters away. The onlookers, mostly young men, gasped in shock, never expecting such an outcome. To the untrained eye, it appeared as though Jing Aoxue had been barely managing against Wu Zhiyong, forced to dodge. But when she became serious, she resolved the match with a single blow. The onlookers shivered with realization; Wu Zhiyong was known as the strongest in the village, yet Jing Aoxue—a seemingly frail-looking subhuman—outmatched him. It dawned on them that she could likely handle them just as decisively. Terrified, they stepped back as Jing Aoxue approached. Only Wu Zhian raced to his brother's side, casting a fierce glare at Jing Aoxue as he passed her.