Yang Ming walked on with his wife on his back. However, after a short while, he felt his wife’s body slipping. If he didn’t hitch her up, she would fall off.
He cautiously tipped his wife upward, nearly brushing her bottom inadvertently. His heart thumped wildly, terrified she might discover this and leap off his back.
Moments later, seeing that his wife remained motionless, he felt relieved and continued walking. He sensed he could no longer hide his love today and wanted to boldly express it.
He didn’t know where things had gone wrong. He had shown his love through actions before, given her a token of love, held her hand proactively, and even hugged her—all these clear gestures had been rejected mercilessly. He completely forgot that his wife hadn’t refused when helping him with her hands.
Now, he felt there was only one last resort left—speak out. His wife seemed not as cold as before; perhaps there was hope. Summoning his courage, he said, "Wife, there’s something I want to tell you."
"Mhm." At this point, Xiaoxiao was clueless that her cheap husband was about to confess. Resting on Yang Ming’s back, she murmured to herself, slightly shifting her body, already dozing off.
But it was precisely her murmuring and subtle movements that made him think she was awake. Yang Ming’s heart rose to his throat; he was about to do it, to express his love to his wife. He took a deep breath, "Exchange my heart for yours, only then realizing the depth of our longing."
After speaking, he waited in silence, hoping his wife would reconcile with him. Yet, he was met with quietness. He had failed again, faced with a silent rejection, and was extremely dejected.
Carrying his wife, he walked on without saying another word, feeling incredibly heavy-hearted. His mind blank, he didn’t even notice when villagers, carrying torches, spoke to him as they passed by on the way into the village.
"Scholar Yang, coming back so late?"
"Who are you carrying on your back?"
Seeing Scholar Yang walk away without responding, the villagers were perplexed.
Although the torch gave off insufficient light, they could tell he was carrying a woman on his back—and certainly not the Scholar’s wife. The Scholar carrying another woman late at night? This was big news. Paying no mind to their own affairs, they all went straight home.
At this moment, Yang Ming was still dazed, unaware that his behavior had led to yet another misunderstanding.
Because it was already dark, he didn’t disturb his family. Instead, he carried his wife directly back to the room, unaware she was sleeping. He spoke to his wife, "Come down, we’re home," before gently setting her down on the kang.
Startled awake by the sudden movement, Xiaoxiao opened her eyes and exclaimed, "Ah, are we home already? Husband."
"Mhm." Yang Ming answered with a dark expression on his face and then left the room to tend to household work. He started to prepare the firewood, heat the kang, and cook. Although rejected, he still had to do chores for his wife; he didn’t believe she could fail to see his good side.
Xiaoxiao, still baffled, wondered why her cheap husband seemed so down. Could it be that he resented her weight? For carrying her too long? But she was sure she wasn’t heavy.
She rose and stepped outside, leaning against the doorframe, watching her cheap husband busying himself. Well, he did seem like a good family man. It was quite rare to see a man in these parts doing such chores.
"Husband, do you think I’m very heavy?"