RYEY – Chapter 18 Li Huan’s Secret

“Mm, I understand, Auntie.”

Cheng Qiao still accepted the gold bracelet. Leaving it with Li  Huan’s mother was risky, better to keep it in her own space. When Li Huan’s younger sister, Li Le, got married, she could take it out again.

“As for the betrothal gifts, I can’t prepare much, but I can scrape together two hundred yuan. So when you’re discharged, I’ll have Aunt Wang come to propose the match. In a couple of days, I’ll send the bride price, and after the autumn harvest, you and Li Huan can marry.”

Seeing Cheng Qiao accept the bracelet, Li  Huan’s mother finally felt relieved. She quickly arranged the matchmaking and bride price matters while riding the momentum.

Hearing about the two hundred yuan, Cheng Qiao’s heart warmed. In Xiangyang Village, where people barely earned a few dozen yuan in a year, two hundred yuan was already a sky-high bride price.

She also knew from her past life that Li  Huan’s mother had only a little over three hundred yuan in total and had eventually given it all to her.

“Alright, Auntie, you should head back now. The autumn harvest starts tomorrow—you’ll need to make something good to eat and rest well, otherwise you won’t have the energy.”

“Ai, then I’ll go. Be careful on your own.”

“It’s fine, this is a hospital, nothing will happen.”

After Li  Huan’s mother left, Cheng Qiao hurriedly pulled out a large white steamed bun and began eating. From morning until now, she had only had an apple—she was starving.

“Cheng Qiao, I brought you food!”

Li Huan’s voice suddenly came from the doorway. The last bite of the steamed bun got stuck in Cheng Qiao’s throat—it wouldn’t go down or come up, making her eyes roll uncomfortably.

Li Huan quickly put down the lunch box, wrapped an arm around her, and patted her back hard with his other hand. But Cheng Qiao was still choking badly.

He grabbed a teacup—luckily there was water inside—and handed it to her. She gulped a large mouthful down, forcing the soft bun, made from fine flour, down her throat at last.

“Cheng Qiao, what were you eating to choke like that? I know—it must have been my mom who came by.”

Li Huan was sweating from fear, cursing himself for being reckless. He almost let Cheng Qiao survive a cow trampling only to choke to death in his care.

“Your mom gave me this.”

After catching her breath, Cheng Qiao pulled a red cloth bundle from under the pillow, hoping to divert Li Huan’s attention. As expected, he immediately knew what it was.

He hurried to the doorway, glanced around to make sure no one was coming, and then grinned. “Hide it well. Great—you accepted my mom’s bracelet. That means you’re my fiancée now.”

“Where did you go?”

“I went to get your food. Look, the cafeteria’s meals are pretty good today—braised crucian carp, stir-fried pork with chives, and cornbread. You should put the stir-fry in the cornbread—it tastes great.”

Cheng Qiao looked at the food, a little suspicious. Did it really take that long to fetch a meal? But she didn’t ask. Just as she was about to eat, Li Huan had already picked up chopsticks, stuffed the stir-fry into the cornbread, and handed it to her, before going to fetch water with the teacup.

“Eat more. After this, I’ll head back. Tomorrow’s harvest—don’t let my mom and sister overwork themselves.”

Seeing Li Huan return, Cheng Qiao pushed the remaining food toward him. One cornbread was enough for her—after all, she had just sneaked a big bun. As for the crucian carp, she disliked the many fish bones.

“You eat too little. Look how thin you are. Eat more—for yourself, and for the little one here.”

Li Huan’s voice was soft, but his face glowed with contentment and hope. His eyes shone so brightly that Cheng Qiao’s own turned misty with warmth.

“Doctor making rounds.”

Two figures appeared at the door—a doctor and a nurse. Li Huan immediately stood up, stepping aside.

“Cheng Qiao, how’s the injury? Any unusual feelings?”

“Doctor, I feel a bit dizzy, a bit nauseous, and somewhat groggy.”

“This looks like a mild concussion from the injury. Rest a few days and you’ll be fine. If you feel uncomfortable, call me—I’m on duty tonight.”

“Then I’ll stay to keep her company tonight. If something happens, she’ll be alone in the ward—I’d be worried.”

“You can stay, but don’t close the door. If anyone reports you, you’ll be in big trouble. Doesn’t matter if she’s your fiancée—even a wife can’t stay locked in.”

The doctor had a good impression of Li Huan. Few rural men would give up earning work points during the harvest season to stay with a woman, let alone an unmarried one.

Li Huan escorted the doctor out, casually slipping a pack of cigarettes into his pocket. He knew the doctor smoked—his yellowed fingers gave it away.

The doctor touched his pocket, smiling knowingly. He understood Li Huan’s intent—if needed, he’d put in a good word for him tomorrow.

“Cheng Qiao, I’ll go check if there’s any meat to buy. Later, I’ll head back to the village to see what’s happening with the Chen family. I’ll bring you dinner tonight.”

“Oh, alright. Go on then.”

Li Huan left quickly. Cheng Qiao lay back down—her head still throbbed. Even with painkillers, once they wore off, the pain returned.

Li Huan pedaled to a secluded house in the county. He pulled out a key and unlocked the gate. It was a two-section residence: the outer section looked rundown, with crumbling walls.

Behind it was another gate with a lock. Li Huan used another key to open it. The second courtyard was simple—a main hall in the center, a room on each side, and a back door that led to the rear yard.

He entered the right-hand room. Inside were many homemade wooden racks holding over a dozen sacks of rice and flour, each weighing fifty kilograms.

Along the wall hung about thirty slabs of pork belly, freshly butchered judging by the color. Li Huan carefully chose ten, carried out one bag of rice and one bag of flour, tied them to his bike rack, then put the meat into a tattered sack tied to the front.

Sitting on the threshold, he pulled out a cigarette, stuck it between his lips but didn’t light it. He had to wait—Skinny Monkey would soon bring people to buy rice and meat.

Sure enough, after a short while, there was a knock on the gate—the new code, one long and five short. Li Huan peeked through the crack: it was Skinny Monkey, with two men and a woman behind him.

“You’re here—come in.”

Li Huan trusted Skinny Monkey. Though he looked frail, he was tough and sharp. No smuggler or black marketeer could slip past those shrewd eyes.