Chapter 23: More Like a Weasel Than a Rabbit

As soon as Bai Yan finished speaking, her ankle was suddenly seized, and the next moment, Jiang Chengyan dragged her over to him. He braced his hands on either side of her, lowering his head to gaze down at her.

“It’s not that you can’t have children, it’s just that you’re not old enough yet, understand?” he said, gently patting her cheek. “Go wash your face and come down for dinner.”

Because the table was set with all the finest ingredients, there was hardly anything left by the end. But Aunt Wang had brought an old hen with her, and Jiang Chengyan prepared a chicken soup with it for Bai Yan.

Watching her devour a chicken drumstick, her mouth glossy with grease, the man chuckled softly. “You like chicken so much, you’re less like a rabbit and more like a weasel.”

Bai Yan: “…” Is that even a way to describe someone?

Seeing her cheeks deflate and her eyes glaring furiously at him, Jiang Chengyan bowed his head, lips curled in a smile softer than ever before.

…

Bai Yan was quick to learn; after eating her fill, she sprawled out to rest for a while, then obediently went to bathe.

But when she came out, she saw the same man who had just been smiling at her now looking on with a smirk, her beloved little pillow dangling from his hand.

“What are you doing?!” In a flash, Bai Yan darted forward and snatched her pillow back. Her movement sent two silver ingots and a few withered dried mushrooms tumbling out from inside.

“Oh no, my money!” The moment the silver ingots appeared, Bai Yan hurriedly scrambled to gather them up—this was the silver her godmother had given her in secret, meant to be hidden away.

“The two silver ingots you have add up to no more than ten taels.”

“Ten taels of silver wouldn’t even buy this little pillow.”

“With such fine fabric, you actually hid dried mushrooms in it?!” Jiang Chengyan was half amused, half exasperated. She’d tried so many times to break her habit of hoarding things like a hamster, but it never seemed to change.

“They’re delicious! I’ve been hiding these mushrooms for a long time,” Bai Yan replied, dusting the dried mushrooms off and pressing one toward Jiang Chengyan’s lips, her expression full of conviction.

As the dried mushroom neared, Jiang Chengyan caught a distinct whiff of mold.

He immediately spat it out, then looked down at Bai Yan, who was still diligently wiping off the rest. “Little one, how long have you been hiding these mushrooms?”

Bai Yan mumbled something with her mouth full, then answered cheerfully, “I think it’s been over ten years! Aren’t they tasty?”

Jiang Chengyan: “…”

“They’re moldy, don’t eat them.” As he spoke, his slender, dry hands reached to snatch away the mushrooms Bai Yan was clutching.

Seeing him try to take them, Bai Yan grew anxious. Strong as ever, she stared him down like a fierce little beast, as if daring him to come any closer so she could tear him apart.

They stood at an impasse for nearly a minute. Just when Bai Yan thought Jiang Chengyan was about to fight her for them, he suddenly let go.

“You’re not allowed to hide things inside your pillow. All these cabinets are yours—go put your things in them,” he said, pointing at the cabinets atop the table.

Bai Yan immediately clutched her stash of mushrooms and silver ingots, her tone stubborn. “No, you’ll steal them!”

Jiang Chengyan sneered, “They’re not worth my time.” A few stinking dried mushrooms.

Yet Bai Yan still refused to budge.

At last, the man sighed.

He rummaged in the drawer, found a small brocade pouch that had come as a gift with some socks he’d bought, and placed Bai Yan’s ingots and dried radishes inside, then attached the pouch to her clothing.

“Why not hang it around my neck?” Bai Yan asked, ever the curious one.

“Because that would look ridiculous.”

“But—”

“No buts. Go to sleep!”

“Alright…”