Don't touch it...it's dirty.
Ji Yanchen's hands were frighteningly hot, yet they were trembling like a sieve.
"Was that gold left by your father?"
Zi Xi didn't pull her hand away. Seeing how nervous he was, she held his hand tighter and started chatting with him.
"Father said... the gold is for his wife..."
"He killed his mother before the public denunciation meeting... with a sickle, there was so much blood..."
Ji Yanchen's pupils contracted, and he suddenly began to tremble, speaking incoherently as his gaze gradually became unfocused.
Zi Xi's heart skipped a beat. She knew, she knew everything.
“I can’t take the gold; it’s what your father left for your future wife.”
Zi Xi deliberately pushed the red cloth bag away and lightly touched the faded double happiness character on it with her fingertip.
Ji Yanchen's breathing suddenly became rapid, and his already flushed face became even hotter.
He stared intently at the bundle, his Adam's apple bobbing, but no sound came out.
"Take it back."
Zi Xi pushed the bundle again, the fabric rustling as it rubbed together.
"So what exactly do you want?!"
Ji Yanchen suddenly sprang up and pressed her onto the bed with his burning hot palm.
"This is all I have...this is all I have left!"
He was trembling all over, and his voice was as hoarse as sandpaper.
A scalding tear fell onto Zi Xi's face, followed by a second and then a third.
This man, who was seen as sinister and terrifying by the villagers, was now crying like a lost child, yet he was still using the fiercest tone to utter the most humble words: "You...you mustn't force me...please don't force me..."
"So what do you think? What am I still lacking?"
Zi Xi raised her hand to wipe away the tears on his face. The skin under her fingertips was frighteningly hot. She looked into his bloodshot eyes.
Ji Yanchen froze.
This problem is like a blunt knife, slowly dissecting all the defenses he has built.
He opened his mouth, a drop of blood seeping from his chapped lips, but no sound came out.
Finally, he collapsed as if all the bones in his body had been removed, his forehead resting on Zi Xi's shoulder, whimpering like a small animal.
"I...I..."
"I don't dare... I'm not worthy..."
He clutched at the hem of her dress, his tears soaking a large patch of fabric.
Zi Xi felt as if she had been pricked by a needle.
She recalled the gossip in the village, saying that the Ji family boy was a madman, that his father had hanged himself, and that he had dirty blood flowing through his veins. All sorts of negative and foul language filled Ji Yanchen's ears.
"Ji Yanchen, look at me."
She suddenly cupped his face, forcing him to look directly at her.
The oil lamp crackled and popped, illuminating Ji Yanchen's wet eyes.
It wasn't prejudice that was contained within, but rather an unfathomable fear—the fear of rejection, the fear of abandonment, the fear of repeating his father's mistakes.
"I need a fool who will help me chop wood, close the windows on rainy days, and pile all his belongings next to my bed."
Zi Xi spoke softly, her fingertips tracing his burning brow.
Ji Yanchen's pupils dilated slightly.
He seemed not to understand these words, yet he also seemed to understand them but dared not believe them; his whole body froze like a red-hot coal.
"So...so I can? You...you want me..."
His voice trembled out of tune.
"Yes, I want you, not your gold, not your silver dollars, but you, Ji Yanchen, the person."
Zi Xi said decisively.
These words struck Ji Yanchen like a thunderbolt.
"You...you're confused! I am...I am..."
He abruptly broke free from her hand, staggered to his feet, and retreated to the corner of the wall, his back slamming against the earthen wall with a thud.
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