Chapter 20
The Luckiest Man Alive
As the sun dipped low, casting a golden hue over Zhilan Village, the evening's festivities began to take shape under Jon's watchful eyes. He had spent the afternoon assisting Qingshan and the others, his hands now slightly roughened by the honest labor of setting up for the night's event.
They'd erected stands, hung lanterns that began to flicker alive in the growing dusk, and laid out long tables that were now being adorned with an array of dishes—the air filled with the mouth-watering aroma of roasted meats and spiced vegetables.
Jon was wiping his brow when Qingshan approached, his face creased with a contented smile. "Brother Jon, let me introduce you to my family," he said, gesturing toward a woman with a gentle demeanor and two lively girls tugging at her skirts, their faces bright with curiosity. "This is my wife, Lianhua, and our daughters, Mei and Hua."
Lianhua offered Jon a warm smile, her presence as soothing as the evening breeze.
Mei, a sprite of about eight, eyed Jon with an impish gleam, while Hua, slightly older and more reserved, gave a shy nod.
"And this rascal here," Qingshan chuckled, ruffling the red hair of a young boy who had just darted up to his side, "is our son, Bao."
What the- I didn't even hear him come. Jon thought, looking at the boy.
Bao looked up at Jon with wide, eager eyes, his youthful energy palpable. "Hi, Uncle*!" he piped, "Did you see the horses today?"
Jon laughed, squatting down to Bao's level. "I sure did, champ. They were pretty impressive, weren't they?"
Bao's enthusiastic nod and bright chatter about the day's hunt filled the brief lull as more villagers gathered around. Jon rose to his feet, turning his attention back to Qingshan, just as another figure approached—the unmistakable Li Xin, his booming voice preceding him.
"Ah, brother Jon! You've met my circus, I presume?" Li Xin laughed heartily, gesturing towards his large family gathered a short distance away.
Jon soon found himself face-to-face with Li Xin and his...harem? Armada of kids?
Honestly, he wasn't quite sure how to categorize the situation when a dude somehow managed to sweet-talk not one, but TWO beautiful wives into his life.
"This fiery vixen is my unbreakable Jewel of Yang - the feisty Chili Pepper who keeps my life properly spiced. My wife, Chunhua!" He gave an exaggerated wince as the woman who had earlier slapped him upside the head offered Jon a respectful nod...though her eyes promised swift retribution if Li Xin stepped out of line again.
So she was his wife! I underestimated your power, Li Xin. Jon said inwardly.
"And this enchanting blossom," Li Xin continued in a softer tone,"is my soothing Jewel of Yin - my nurturing Meadow Lily whose radiant smile brightens even the darkest days. My dear Mingzhu," Li Xin continued, introducing his younger wife.
Mingzhu greeted Jon with a serene smile that somehow made the chaos of their bustling household feel oddly peaceful and content.
Around them, seven children of varying ages played and jostled each other, the lone girl among them standing slightly apart.
Her delicate features and graceful demeanor did indeed set her apart, as villagers had claimed. "And that’s our beautiful princess, Xiulan," Li Xin said, his voice softening even more. "Keeper of my heart and the boys’ overseer."
Jon shook his head in disbelief, a slight grin breaking through. How did he do that? Him? The thought was incredulous yet tinged with amusement.
He couldn't decide if Li Xin was the luckiest man alive or craziest daredevil to not only snag two total stunners as wives, but brazenly come up with pet names that toed the line between adoration and swiftly getting himself pummeled.
Then again, maybe that was exactly the kind of audacious charm it took to pull off this gravity-defying couples arrangement.
As the introductions continued, Jon found himself enveloped in the warmth of community spirit. Each handshake and smile, each shared laugh over a child's antics or nod of understanding at a parent's slight exasperation, integrated him more closely into village life.
*****
As the sky transitioned from twilight to a darkness, Jon noticed the steady trickle of villagers departing from the bustling square. Curiosity piqued, he turned to Qingshan, who was wrapping up the leftover tools from their earlier work. "Brother Qingshan, where is everyone going?" Jon asked, a puzzled frown etching his brow.
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Qingshan, stacking the last of the tools into a neat pile, flashed a wide smile. "Oh, they're heading home to prepare for tonight. Take a bath, put on their nicest clothes, and then come back to feast!" he explained.
Jon nodded in understanding, though a slight twinge of anxiety tugged at him.
"I see," he murmured, his gaze drifting towards the pathway leading to his current dwelling—the village's old granary. It was spacious enough but rudimentary at best, lacking any sort of amenities for personal hygiene, let alone a bathtub.
His current attire—the old man's clothes—was all he had, worn from the day's work and distinctly out of place among the increasingly colorful and fresh garments already appearing on the bodies of returning villagers. He pondered whether a dip in the river was expected of him, or if the villagers each had their own secret to cleanliness.
Before he could voice his concerns, Qingshan clapped a hand on his shoulder, an intuitive grin spreading across his face. "You should come over to our house, take a bath and borrow some clothes. Being a newcomer, it'd be difficult for you to manage otherwise," Qingshan offered generously.
Jon hesitated, his cheeks warming embarrassment. "Oh, I wouldn't want to impose on you," he stammered, unsure how to navigate the offer without seeming ungrateful.
"Nonsense! You're not imposing at all! Come, come!" Qingshan insisted, his tone brooking no argument. With a friendly tug, he guided Jon towards his home, where the lights of early evening flickered invitingly.
As they walked, Jon's mind whirled with the unexpected kindness. The casual acceptance and ready assistance were far from the self-serving motivations he had often encountered back in his own world. Here, the lines between personal space and communal living blurred pleasantly.
As Jon approached Qingshan's home, the scent of burning incense wafted through the air. Qingshan's wife, Lianhua, greeted them at the door with a welcoming smile and a fresh towel in hand. "Just in time, brother Jon! Qingshan told me to prepare a bath for you in the bathroom at the back of the house," she explained, guiding him through the warmly lit hallway to the modest but clean bathroom.
Jon scratched his head awkwardly, accepting the towel with a grateful nod. "Thank you, sister Lianhua, this is very kind of you," he said, feeling a bit out of place but appreciating the warm hospitality.
As he washed up, the hot water cascading down his back felt almost therapeutic. It had been ages since he'd felt so relaxed, and he couldn't help but miss the high-pressure shower and the $25,000 jacuzzi back on Earth where he used to unwind every Sunday with his favorite book from the series Re:birth by Ace. Such a nice book.
Amid the steam and soothing warmth, Jon's thoughts drifted to the cryptic last words of Huo Zheng. The name 'Wei Long' echoed in his mind. Initially, he had dismissed it, assuming Huo Zheng was delirious, but now, settled in this new world, every clue seemed worth exploring. Who was Wei Long? Could this lead him back to his own world? Jon resolved to dig deeper once the festivities were over.
Refreshed and wrapped in the clean towel provided by Lianhua, Jon entered the guest room he had been assigned to, to find a moment of peace. Just then, he heard Qingshan's voice outside the door. "Brother Jon, may I enter?" he asked respectfully.
"Yes, of course," Jon responded.
Qingshan entered with a bag in his hand, his face beaming with a friendly smile. "How was the bath?" he inquired, setting the bag down on a small wooden chair.
"It was the best moment of my day," Jon admitted with a genuine smile, feeling more at ease than he had in a long time. "Really, I can't thank you enough for your hospitality," he added, joining his fist with his palm in a gesture of deep gratitude.
"Not at all, not at all, haha!" Qingshan chuckled, waving off the thanks with an air of dismissal as if opening his home to a newcomer was the most natural thing in the world.
Qingshan then asked, "What were you intending to wear this evening?"
Jon, as casual as ever, gestured towards the clothes he had been wearing previously. "Well, they're a bit worn out, but I think they'll do. Just need to be washed a bit," he explained, attempting to sound nonchalant about his less-than-festive attire.
Qingshan examined the fabric with an appreciative eye. "Well, this is fine embroidery indeed. I must say, you merchants truly are amazing for working with ramie robes on. The price went quite up in the central plains recently," he remarked.
Jon, not fully grasping the implications of Qingshan's comment and unsure how to respond to his reference to the ramie robes, just chuckled awkwardly. "Ah yes, well, I didn't have much choice since it was the only set of clothes I had anyway, haha," he said, hoping Qingshan wouldn't probe too deeply.
Thankfully, Qingshan seemed more intent on providing solutions than delving into the origins of Jon's wardrobe.
Reaching for the bag he had brought earlier, Qingshan said, "Well, it would be hard to wash it and let it dry in time now that the night has come. So, I brought you some clothes." He extended them towards Jon, who, caught by surprise, took them gracefully.
"Thank you, brother Qingshan," Jon said, unfolding the garments which appeared richly dyed in black and white and finely made, suitable for a festival. He eyed them skeptically, though, not sure about their size. "It might be a bit small for me, though, since I'm rather tall."
Qingshan laughed heartily, shaking his head. "Don’t worry about that. These were my younger brother’s old festival clothes. You're about the same size and height, coincidentally enough. He was quite tall himself."
Jon paused, a shadow of realization crossing his face as Qingshan referenced his brother in the past tense.
It seemed his expression was more telling than intended, as Qingshan quickly reassured him, "Oh, don't make that face, brother Jon! I like to talk about my brother anyway. I was immensely proud of him! He was a big and strong cultivator, the first in the family! Hahaha!"
Jon smiled along with Qingshan, respecting the other man's cheerfulness about his brother's legacy. He refrained from probing further, sensing the delicate balance between remembrance and pain.
It was evident why his brother was no longer present; most cultivators rarely lived to an old age.
Ironic. For people seeking immortality.
Suppressing the urge to say, 'I'm sorry for your loss,' a phrase Jon himself was accustomed to hearing every time people learned about his own father, he simply joined his fist to his palm in a gesture of respect and gratitude. "Thank you, brother Qingshan. I will make sure to give it back intact."
Qingshan waved dismissively, his broad smile unfading. "Nonsense! I am gifting it to you. Better to have someone finally wearing it than to let it take dust in the house like that. Qingtian would have agreed with me," he asserted warmly.