A delicate beauty takes a place in a marriage, while a cold, rough man seduces her every night.

Zhou Shunan immediately pulled her husband into the house to explain the whole story.

Xiao Jingye stood anxiously in the courtyard, waiting.

In the past, he was used to being carefree and undisciplined, thinking that he could make some money by doing a small business so that his family could live a life free from worries about food and clothing.

In the past two days, for the first time, he had the idea that he not only wanted to be rich, but also powerful.

Even if one cannot attain real power, one must still accumulate enough connections and resources to be able to deal with those in high positions on equal footing.

Only in this way can he stand up for his wife or anyone in his family if they encounter difficulties in the future, and provide them with support.

After a long while, Director Zhang came out of the house.

He was a man in his forties, wearing a black jacket, with a dignified and austere face.

He stared at Xiao Jingye for several seconds, scrutinizing him, his brows furrowing, his tone cold and direct: "You came to my house, doing chores and bringing wild ginseng, all so I'd give your lover preferential treatment?"

Xiao Jingye straightened his back to meet the other person's sharp gaze and said neither humbly nor arrogantly, "My wife doesn't need to use connections."

"She was the top scorer in the written exam, but she was falsely accused and her score was invalidated. I'm here to seek justice for her."

Director Zhang loosened the neatly tied bow tie at the collar of his shirt and sat down on the stool next to him.

Inside, Zhou Shunan came out carrying a solid wood tray with two cups of hot tea on it, and said gently, "Xiao Xiao, sit down and talk slowly."

Upon seeing this, Director Zhang immediately stood up and quickly stepped forward to take the heavy tray: "My goodness, these things are so heavy, how did you carry them out yourself?"

As they handed over the tray, Zhou Shunan lightly pinched his palm with her fingertips, then looked up and gave him a subtle look, signaling him to tone down his sharp attitude and communicate properly.

Director Zhang placed the tea on the table, his expression softening slightly as he looked up, and said to Xiao Jingye, "Let's sit down and talk."

Xiao Jingye nodded slightly to Zhou Shunan in thanks and politely took his seat.

He reached into his coat pocket, took out a neatly folded letter, and handed it to him: "This is a joint letter written by my wife Qiao Qingyan's students and parents. It has everyone's fingerprints and signatures on it. You can take a look."

Director Zhang reached out and took the letter, unfolding it.

This letter was dictated by Xiao Jingye himself, and he asked a student with neat handwriting to write it down.

The letter refutes all the false and defamatory statements in the whistleblower's letter point by point, presenting a clear, logical, and well-founded argument.

Meanwhile, the article recounts Qiao Qingyan's numerous acts of kindness since she began teaching: staying at school to tutor struggling students free of charge, stepping forward to rescue students suffering from domestic violence, providing long-term assistance to students from impoverished families, and patiently comforting rebellious and sensitive children... Each and every one of these acts is truly touching.

All the parties involved in the letter signed it in their own handwriting and pressed their red fingerprints.

Some of the handwriting is crooked and clumsy, signed by a rural parent who hasn't had much formal education; it's simple and genuine.

In addition to helping Director Zhang build goodwill at his home these past few days, Xiao Jingye has also traveled far and wide to visit every household, all in order to collect this joint letter.

He said, "I'm not asking you to give her special treatment. I think such a good teacher deserves a fair outcome, instead of being framed by malicious people and forced to leave her beloved job. This would break the hearts of good people, and the hearts of countless students and parents."

Director Zhang read it word by word, and his tightly furrowed brows gradually relaxed.

He folded the letter, gave a slight smile, and suddenly turned his head to ask, "You love your wife very much?"

The warm autumn sun shone down, scattering golden light across the courtyard. The soft light enveloped Xiao Jingye, softening the sharp edges of the man's appearance.

"Just as you love your wife," he said, "my wife is the apple of my eye."

"She became a teacher not for the salary, but because of her passion; she took the civil service exam not for the benefits and allowances of public service, but simply for official recognition so that she could stand on the podium for a long time and teach and nurture students."

These words weren't spoken to him by Qingyan herself, but he just knew them.

-

At noon, Zeng Yumei went to the kitchen to cook, only to find that the soy sauce in the house was already empty.

She untied her apron and prepared to go to the village's sales point to buy it.

Seeing this, Qiao Qingyan stopped her, saying, "Mom, you have trouble walking. I'll take Duoduo to buy it."

"Okay, I'll start steaming the rice first. You can also buy a bag of salt while you're at it, we're running low on salt."

"Okay." Qingyan reached out and took Duoduo's soft little hand, and they went out together.

It was lunchtime, and smoke was rising from every household in the village.

Many villagers, holding large, rough porcelain bowls, either sat on wooden stakes in front of their homes or squatted against walls, eating their meals while chatting with their neighbors.

A neighbor, carrying a porcelain bowl, saw Qiao Qingyan and loudly called out to her, "Teacher Qiao, why didn't you teach today?"

In fact, the other person may not have had any bad intentions and was just asking out of curiosity, but Qingyan still reacted as if she was being mocked, and a wave of bitterness and grievance surged up in her heart.

Before she could speak, a woman called out gossipingly, "Qingyan, I heard from my son that you were expelled from school, is that true?"

Several neighbors immediately turned to look, and someone quickly asked, "How could a perfectly good teacher be fired?"

The woman lowered her voice: "I heard someone reported her for having an immoral private life and physically punishing students. Even the education bureau leaders came in person and revoked her teaching license!"

"Is it that serious?"

Everyone began to discuss it in hushed tones.

Some people spoke up in her defense: "Teacher Qiao looks quiet and kind; she doesn't seem like the kind of person who would do such a thing."

Others echoed this sentiment with cynicism, speculating maliciously: "As the old saying goes, you can know a person's face but not their heart. If she hadn't done anything wrong, why would the Education Bureau expel her for no reason?"

"A person of this character as a teacher will only corrupt the village children sooner or later!"

The rumors were fragmented and harsh, and disdainful gazes were fixed on Qingyan.

Qingyan was both angry and aggrieved, unable to defend herself, her cheeks burning hot.

She tightly gripped Duoduo's little hand, lowered her head, and hurried away from the center of the discussion.

When Aunt Jiang went to the sales point to buy soy sauce, she also asked her out of curiosity whether the rumors were true or false.

Qiao Qingyan hurriedly returned home with her belongings and never went out again.

She lay on the kang (a heated brick bed) and cried for a long time, and no amount of persuasion from Zeng Yumei could help her.

A person curled up in a small ball in bed, lying there from dawn till dusk, without eating dinner.

As night deepened, Qingyan was plunged into a chaotic nightmare.

I dreamt that I was standing in the middle of a crowd being pointed at and talked about. I also dreamt that the education bureau posted a notice saying that she had morally corrupt behavior and that her exam results had been canceled.

She dreamt that she was crying incessantly, surrounded by endless darkness, and then a giant wave, carrying a sense of punishment, engulfed her and drowned her.

She suddenly gasped for breath, jolting awake in utter terror.

"Don't be afraid, I'm here."

A deep, magnetic male voice sounded close to her ear, and a warm palm gently stroked her trembling back.

A familiar, fresh, and clean masculine scent enveloped her.

Qingyan slowly opened her eyes. In the dim light, the man was backlit by the moonlight, his handsome face was three-dimensional and dashing, almost unreal.

Yet his aura was incredibly clear, grounded, and reassuring.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Xiao Jingye asked softly.

Qingyan's tears welled up instantly.

"When did you get back?"

"I've been back for a while. After washing up, I lay down next to you, but you were sleeping soundly, like a little pig, and didn't notice me at all."

Xiao Jingye smiled slightly and reached out to pinch her soft, warm cheek: "Why are you crying?"

Qingyan first raised her hand and punched him, then like a soft little rabbit, she threw herself into his broad arms with a thud, buried her face in his chest, and burst into tears.

Tears fell like pearls from a broken string, pattering down their faces.

Warm tears, carrying with them the criticism, embarrassment, helplessness, and grievances of the past few days, soaked through the man's thin clothes.

"I've been suspended from my job... People in the village are talking about me..." She buried her face in his chest, her shoulders hunched, and cried uncontrollably, sobbing as she recounted her grievances, tears streaming down her face.

Xiao Jingye listened silently, his brows furrowed deeply, and he tightened his arms, holding the little one in his arms tightly.

The intermittent sobs reached my ears, and my heart was breaking at her cries.