RYEY – Chapter 30 Live Well with the Little Rascal

This child had changed. He really wished Cheng Qiao could go back to being the way she was before. Even if she had been a bit silly and naïve, at least she didn’t cause trouble.

“All done watching the commotion? Don’t want your work points anymore, is that it?”

The village head roared again, his voice already cracking.

“Move, move, get back to work.”

“Village Head, don’t be in such a rush—we’ll head to the fields right away.”

“Village Head, Aunt Daya must apologize to my future mother-in-law. Otherwise, if anyone can just say whatever they like, won’t it drive people to death?” Cheng Qiao blocked the village head, her voice full of grievance.

“I’ll say this once more. That three hundred yuan was Chen Chunhua’s compensation to Comrade Cheng for medical expenses and damages. If anyone dares spout nonsense again, just see how I deal with her.”

The village head’s sharp eyes locked onto Aunt Daya. Realizing her mistake, she quickly forced a fawning smile at Mother Li, muttered an apology, and dragged Miao Qing away.

Miao Qing opened her mouth, unable to find the right words. Instead, she turned to glance at Cheng Qiao, her eyes dark with resentment. Cheng Qiao lifted her chin and glanced at her from the corner of her eye—the meaning was clear: If you’ve got the guts, come fight me.

Miao Qing’s face instantly turned ugly. How had this fool changed? Wasn’t she always easy to bully before? Back then, all it took was putting on this pitiful act and the idiot would quickly bring out something nice to appease her.

Cheng Qiao opened her cloth bag and took out two lunchboxes. Seeing this, Miao Qing’s eyes lit up and the corners of her lips curled slightly. A fool is still a fool. She’ll hand over the good stuff anyway.

But when Cheng Qiao opened the lunchbox and the rich aroma of cabbage stir-fried with pork cracklings wafted out, everyone nearby twitched their noses and fixed their eyes on the box.

Just as Miao Qing was about to reach for it, Cheng Qiao slowly closed the lid and handed it over to Li Le.

“Lele, go sit over there. We’re about to eat.”

Miao Qing’s face turned black instantly. She glared fiercely at Cheng Qiao, then stormed off. She had to find Chunhua and figure out how to deal with this seemingly smarter Cheng Qiao.

Li Le, staring at the glistening pork cracklings in the sunlight, couldn’t help but swallow hard. She grabbed her little stool and dashed under the tree Cheng Qiao had pointed out, claiming the spot quickly.

“You child—your head’s still injured. Instead of resting, what are you doing out here?”

Mother Li scolded, though inwardly she was thoroughly pleased. The daughter-in-law hadn’t even married in yet, but she was already defending her so fiercely. Surely she’d be a good one in the future.

Smiling, Cheng Qiao pulled Mother Li along toward the tree. The farce ended under her firm counterattack, and with the village head’s warning, no one dared throw any more sour words at Mother Li.

The villagers began taking out their own food in twos and threes. The better-off ones had wheat-and-corn buns, some stir-fried beans with shredded pork, and even an egg-drop soup, slurped loudly with relish.

The poorer ones nibbled on sweet potatoes or coarse sorghum buns, washing them down with plain water, chewing slowly as their eyes drifted toward Cheng Qiao’s side.

Seeing her hand the yellowish sorghum buns to Li Le and Mother Li, and taking one for herself, then eating it with the cabbage and pork cracklings, their mood inexplicably lifted. So she’s eating coarse buns too, after all.

Mother Li’s tense heart relaxed when she saw it was sorghum buns. They already had cabbage with pork cracklings. If they had whipped out fluffy white buns or meat-filled ones on top of that, they’d never hear the end of it.

But the moment she bit into the bun, Mother Li froze, and Li Le instinctively covered her mouth. Despite its appearance, this “coarse” bun tasted unmistakably like fine-grain.

“Cheng Qiao, you… shouldn’t be so wasteful.”

Mother Li wanted to say more, but remembering that the child had only done it out of filial piety, she couldn’t bring herself to scold. Instead, she kept pushing her own sorghum bun back into Cheng Qiao’s hands.

To the outsiders, though, her actions looked selfish. Her daughter Li Le kept eating the pork cracklings, while Mother Li herself only ate coarse buns.

“Cheng Qiao, you should head back now. The sun’s not too strong, but it’s still scorching. Your head’s injured—go home and sleep a bit.”

A quarter of an hour later, after cleaning out the lunchbox, Mother Li urged her to go rest. Knowing Mother Li was about to head to the fields, Cheng Qiao quickly packed the lunchbox into her bag and left.

Watching her go, Mother Li felt utterly reassured. People always said educated youths from the city were spoiled and couldn’t endure hardship, but Cheng Qiao was clearly different. She was very satisfied with this future daughter-in-law.

Back at the educated youth spot, Cheng Qiao locked the dormitory door, entered her space, washed the lunchboxes and chopsticks with hot water, then stepped into the bathroom. She wrapped her head with a plastic shower cap and turned on the faucet.

After two days in the hospital and no chance to bathe yesterday, she had felt itchy all over. Now, freshly washed, she felt utterly comfortable. Exiting the space, she lay down on the communal bunk and quickly fell asleep.

When she woke, she carried her dirty clothes to the well in the courtyard, washed them clean, hung them on the line, and then headed to the kitchen to cook mung bean soup.

She added some white sugar, poured it into a big enamel mug, then placed it in a bamboo basket and ran to the field ridges. The soup was still hot, but it would cool quickly in the open air.

Seeing her approach, Mother Li—busy multitasking—quickly sent Li Le to meet her. The corn leaves around here could easily scratch Cheng Qiao’s tender skin.

Cheng Qiao handed the basket to Li Le, exchanged a few words, then hurried toward Uncle Niu’s house. Just in time, she saw Li Huan squatting in the courtyard, chatting with Uncle Niu.

“Cheng Qiao, what are you doing here? Does your wound still hurt?”

“It’s fine. I came to order some furniture from Uncle Niu—like chests and cabinets—to store clothes and such.”

“I already ordered it.”

When Cheng Qiao saw Li Huan secretly gesturing for praise, she couldn’t help but laugh. That smile revealed the two dimples at the corners of her mouth, making Li Huan’s heart flutter wildly.

“Ahem… ahem…”

Uncle Niu coughed a few times, dragging Li Huan’s wandering soul back to earth. Li Huan shot him a disgruntled look—the old man really didn’t understand young people’s feelings.

“One wardrobe, one five-drawer chest, two large wooden trunks, one big wooden bath barrel, two small buckets, plus a large and small basin. I’ll also install a heated brick bed for you. Let’s say eighty yuan total.”

Cheng Qiao quickly pulled eight ten-yuan bills from her bag and handed them over. Uncle Niu shook his head—this rascal had already paid a deposit. The rest could wait until the work was finished.

So Cheng Qiao passed the money to Li Huan instead. He shook his head too.

“Didn’t you already give me a hundred yuan last time?”

Cheng Qiao nodded and tucked the money away again. Since Li Huan had cash, she’d let him handle it.

Uncle Niu gave Cheng Qiao a meaningful look and said slowly, “Little girl, don’t just look at appearances. Live well with this little rascal.”

Li Huan: “…￥%…”

Little rascal, thank you very much.