Zhou Ping stepped into the courtyard and saw his sister-in-law cooking in the kitchen.

To call it a kitchen was a stretch; it was merely an open-air stove with a few makeshift coverings overhead to block the rain.

"Sister-in-law, I caught these wild rabbits. We'll slaughter one to eat today, and leave the other for Changhe to play with," Zhou Ping said, tossing the rabbits into a cage.

"Brother-in-law, it would be best if you refrained from going up the mountain from now on. I hear people say it hasn't been peaceful up there lately," Lin Cuilian said, wiping the sweat from her forehead with concern.

"It is of no hindrance. Ordinary wild beasts cannot harm me," Zhou Ping laughed, then walked toward the house.

Before he even stepped through the door, he heard the sound of conversation coming from inside.

"Brother Zhou, what do you think of a match between my Nianqiu and your second son?" a familiar, aged voice drifted out.

"That child Nianqiu is sensible and looks after the family. She is naturally excellent. My old wife and I are both quite fond of her. But in this matter, I must still discuss it with my second son. If it does not catch his fancy, there is nothing to be done." This, naturally, was Zhou Dashan's voice.

"Sigh." The man let out a heavy breath, but refusing to give up, asked, "Then when will your second son return?"

"This... we do not know."

Hearing this, Zhou Ping stepped over the threshold into the room, immediately drawing the attention of the three people inside.

Lady Huang stood up and came forward, using a duster to beat the dust from Zhou Ping's clothes. She said with deep affection, "You must be exhausted. Come quickly and rest."

She then pulled Zhou Ping aside, fussing over his comfort and well-being.

"Ping'er, we were just speaking of you," Zhou Dashan said, leaning back in his rocking chair with a leisurely air.

As for Zhou Changhe, on the very day Zhou Ping had returned to the village, he had been sent off to an old scholar in the village to begin his early schooling.

Only then did Zhou Ping cast his gaze toward the final person. It was actually Uncle Chen, leaving him somewhat surprised.

After Uncle Chen's initial visit, Zhou Ping had felt a vague sense of familiarity regarding him. Having later made some inquiries, the truth finally dawned on him.

Uncle Chen was also a villager of Baixi Village. However, the Zhou clan resided in the east of the village, while the Chen family was in the west. Although small households banded together for survival, being separated by such a distance meant the Chens naturally clustered with the families in the west. Thus, the two families were not well-acquainted.

But Uncle Chen had a daughter named Chen Nianqiu, and this was the source of Zhou Ping's sense of familiarity.

Back when Zhou Ping was still living in the village, in order to avoid arousing suspicion, he had been forced to masquerade as an ordinary child, mingling with a group of young brats, never daring to reveal his mature mind.

At that time, there was a little girl who always followed their group of children around to play. She was brimming with vitality, acting completely like a tomboy. That was Uncle Chen's daughter-Chen Nianqiu.

However, back then everyone only used childhood nicknames. Coupled with the fact that over a decade had passed, it was only natural his memory of her was hazy.

A'niu.

Chen Nianqiu's childhood nickname surfaced in Zhou Ping's mind, and he could not help but let out a smile.

"Lord... Zhou." Uncle Chen stood up, wanting to call him by name, but considering their distant relationship and the fact that Zhou Ping was now the Village Head-and more importantly, an Immortal Master-the words shifted as they reached his lips, leaving him to address him as 'Lord.'

"Uncle Chen is too polite. We are all fellow villagers, there is no need for such distance. Just calling me Zhou Ping is fine," Zhou Ping replied.

"As you say, Milord."

Uncle Chen lowered his posture and said, "This old man has come today wishing to propose a marriage to Milord on behalf of my daughter."

Zhou Ping's expression stiffened. "Uncle Chen, what kind of request is this? Although Nianqiu and I knew each other as children, we have long since grown apart, nor have we seen each other since."

"In matters of marriage, if there is no mutual affection, it will inevitably result in a mess of trivial squabbles. Why force it?"

"Setting aside my own willingness, it is still unknown whether your daughter is even willing. To make a decision on her behalf like this-is it not taking things too far?"

"My Nianqiu is naturally willing," Uncle Chen murmured with a bowed head. Then, gritting his teeth, he added, "If Milord finds our family too lowly, she could even be taken as a concubine."

The moment these words were spoken, the other three people in the room were greatly alarmed.

Zhou Ping furrowed his brow and asked, "Uncle Chen, are you seeing our family rise in prominence, and so you have come here to sell your daughter for wealth?"

Ever since his return, there had been a constant stream of people arriving at the door to propose marriage. Zhou Ping naturally knew these people were merely seeking riches. But someone like Uncle Chen, who would not hesitate to sell his daughter as a concubine, was the very first.

One must understand that in this world, the status of a wife and a concubine were as different as heaven and earth.

Whether it was a principal wife or a secondary wife, if any household wished to take one in, they had to report to the government offices, register her on the official records, and add her name to the clan genealogy. Within the home, a wife was one of the masters of the household.

A concubine was entirely different. She possessed no human rights to speak of and was nothing more than the master's private property. In those grand manors, if she found favor, her life was bearable; but if she fell out of favor, even the lowest servants and maids would dare to trample upon her.

Therefore, even the rural mountain folk would rather marry their daughters off to the humblest commoners than send them into wealthy households to be concubines.

Chen Nianqiu, as a childhood playmate, was considered one of his few friends. Even though they had grown estranged over the many years of separation, he had no desire to subject her to such an indignity.

"Uncle Chen, please return," Zhou Ping stated coldly, having already issued a clear dismissal.

Furthermore, if he truly desired, what maiden of suitable age within the surrounding eight villages could he not marry? There was no need to forge a marriage alliance with a man who would cheaply sell off his daughter for the sake of wealth.

Today, old man Chen would sell his daughter for money; heavens knew what he would do in the future. There was no need to invite such a stench upon oneself.

Uncle Chen wanted to say something more, but meeting Zhou Ping's indifferent eyes, he could only shrink back timidly toward the door.

Right at this moment, a slender figure rushed inside, grabbing hold of Uncle Chen's arm and saying in a low voice, "Xiao'erzi, it is not my father who came seeking wealth; rather, I am doing this of my own free will."

She stared stubbornly at Zhou Ping, yet her slightly trembling body betrayed the terror in her heart.

Seeing the man opposite her remain silent, Chen Nianqiu's heart shuddered endlessly.

But she knew this was one of the very few chances her and her father had to seek revenge, and so she naturally had to use every possible means to grasp it. Not to mention, the man standing before her was her childhood playmate. That was exactly why she had called out Zhou Ping's childhood moniker, hoping to stir up whatever old sentiments remained in his heart-even if there were none to be found.

Zhou Ping observed the woman before him. Her appearance was delicate, with willow-leaf eyebrows and an oval face-she could well be considered a beauty. However, her skin was sallow from the wind and sun, and an unshakable sorrow lingered between her brows, detracting somewhat from her charm.

The garments she wore were old and faded, and her hands were pale and calloused from years of ceaseless labor. At this moment, she stared back at him with an awe-inspiring stubbornness.

Chen Nianqiu also felt the weight of Zhou Ping's scrutiny. Inevitably growing flustered and uneasy, she hurriedly hid her rough hands behind her back and lowered her head.

"Milord?"

Seeing that Zhou Ping had yet to respond, Chen Nianqiu's voice trembled, her heart already sinking into despair. Yet, even knowing her reputation would be utterly ruined after today, she resolutely spoke up once more.

Zhou Ping finally snapped back to reality. Gazing silently at Chen Nianqiu, he asked, "Why?"

Chen Nianqiu could not help but bow her head, remaining perfectly silent.