TSWPF – Chapter 14 Surprise

Liu Zhimou blinked awake, still dazed, and saw Li Qingling’s face right in front of his. His cheeks instantly flushed red. He tilted his head upward and scooted a little farther away from her. Seeing that, Li Qingling chuckled—his skin was really too thin.

Her laughter only deepened his blush. Flustered, Liu Zhimou quickly stood up, grabbed his bamboo basket, and said stiffly, “Let’s go.”

Li Qingling bit back her laughter, afraid she might tease him into getting angry from embarrassment. She cleared her throat and said, “This way,” before turning and heading in the opposite direction.

Liu Zhimou paused, then followed after her. Watching her small figure walking ahead, he felt a pang of frustration. Before, whenever he saw her, she was the one blushing and running away. But now? She was the one making him blush from head to toe. How the tables had turned…

“Brother Zhimou?” Li Qingling called out as she stopped and waited for him to catch up. When he did, she walked beside him, patiently teaching him various wilderness survival skills.

Liu Zhimou listened attentively, asking questions whenever he didn’t understand. He knew that in the deep mountains, the more you knew, the safer you’d be.

“Shh…” Li Qingling suddenly raised a finger to her lips. She had spotted a wild pheasant pecking at bugs nearby. Liu Zhimou immediately fell silent and followed her gaze, eyes lighting up when he saw the bird.

Li Qingling drew her bow and an arrow from her bamboo quiver, silently moving a few steps closer. She stopped beside a tree, raised her hand—whoosh! The arrow shot straight and true, hitting the pheasant dead-on.

The speed left Liu Zhimou stunned. He hadn’t expected her archery to be so skilled. No wonder she dared to venture into Song Mountain alone.

She must have asked him to come along just to help him a bit. Thinking of that, Liu Zhimou’s heart felt like it had been tossed into boiling water—burning hot and restless.

Li Qingling ran over to pick up the pheasant, her eyes sparkling. “We’ve got pheasant for dinner! I’ll let you taste my cooking—so good you’ll swallow your tongue!” she said with a bright grin. Without waiting for him to reply, she carried the bird toward the stream.

When he caught up, he saw her cutting the still-twitching pheasant with a knife. Her movements were practiced and efficient, which surprised him. “You’re very skilled,” he remarked. Someone inexperienced wouldn’t be that deft.

Li Qingling’s heart skipped a beat, but she kept her face calm. “Learned it from my father. You know, he was an excellent hunter. I picked up quite a few tricks from him.”

Liu Zhimou nodded, believing her explanation, then asked if she needed help.

She smiled. “Go gather some firewood.” This wasn’t the deep mountain, so it wasn’t dangerous for him to go alone.

By the time he came back with an armful of firewood, Li Qingling had already set up a simple stove and was boiling water. She called out when she saw him and continued tending the fire.

Liu Zhimou quietly set down the wood and sat beside her, breaking twigs to pass to her so she could feed the flames.

Neither spoke, but their quiet cooperation felt natural and easy—one handing over, the other taking.

When the water boiled, Li Qingling dipped the pheasant into the pot to scald it, plucked the feathers clean, and soon had it fully prepped.

The bird weighed about a pound—more than enough for two people.

“Brother Zhimou, can you whittle me a sharp stick to skewer the pheasant?” she asked, seeing him idle.

Liu Zhimou nodded quickly, found a straight branch, and began carving. Meanwhile, Li Qingling built a simple wooden stand for roasting, so she wouldn’t have to hold it the whole time.

Once they got the pheasant roasting, Li Qingling let out a soft sigh of relief and sat down, glancing sideways at Liu Zhimou, who was quietly watching the fire.

If Liu Zhimou’s parents were still alive, he would probably be studying in an academy right now instead of struggling to survive in these mountains.

“Why are you staring at me?” he asked, noticing her gaze. This time, he didn’t blush—he flicked her forehead with his finger.

“You look nice,” Li Qingling said with a laugh. She really thought she’d struck gold with such a handsome fiancé. “Your skin is so fair.”

She touched her own face self-consciously. Having worked under the sun since childhood, the original Li Qingling’s skin was sallow and rough.

Looking at Liu Zhimou’s pale, smooth skin, she couldn’t help feeling envious. Her fingers itched to touch it again.

But seeing the way his expression darkened, she pressed her lips together and stifled the urge.

Liu Zhimou turned away, avoiding her gaze. He’d inherited his mother’s fair complexion, but he didn’t like it—he thought a man’s skin should be darker and more masculine. He’d even tried sunbathing to tan himself, but it never worked.

Li Qingling quietly shuffled closer, poking her head around to peek at him from behind. He noticed and, exasperated, reached out to ruffle her hair. “What are you staring at me for? Watch the chicken. It’s going to burn.”

This—this was her true personality. That shy, demure act before? Definitely fake.

Liu Zhimou couldn’t help but laugh and shake his head.

He turned the skewer a little, while Li Qingling stared into the flames, eyes distant, as if seeing another world beyond the firelight.

“Brother Zhimou,” she suddenly said softly, “when you got engaged to me, was it your choice?”

Her tone was calm—none of the bashfulness expected of young women.

Liu Zhimou, however, felt awkward. He swallowed before mumbling, “Mm.”

At first, it hadn’t been his choice. But now… he wasn’t so sure. Maybe he was starting to look forward to it.

Li Qingling looked at him in surprise, sprinkling spices over the roasting bird before continuing, “But I’m not pretty. Why would you agree?”

He hesitated. Seeing that she wasn’t the least bit shy, his restless heart somehow steadied. “My parents arranged it…” He couldn’t think of anything better to say, so he used the age-old excuse.

Which, in truth, was accurate.

Li Qingling raised a brow. “If we got married and didn’t get along, that’d be miserable.” Then she realized—right, this was ancient times. Most couples didn’t even meet before marriage. At least she and he had grown up together. “Luckily, we already know each other.”

“…”

He had no idea how to respond to that.

Li Qingling decided to drop the topic—Liu Zhimou was smart, and if he noticed anything strange, he might start suspecting she was something unnatural.

“All done!” she announced cheerfully, taking the roast chicken off the rack. The aroma was intoxicating, making her mouth water. “Brother Zhimou, try it!” She tore off a drumstick and handed it to him.

Liu Zhimou took it, blew on it, and took a bite. “It’s delicious,” he said honestly. Just how many surprises could this girl give him?

Every time he thought he understood her, she changed again—fascinating him even more.

“Of course it is!” Li Qingling said proudly, tilting her chin. She tore off the other drumstick and bit into it eagerly. She hadn’t eaten something like this in so long.

In her previous life, whenever she went hunting with her father, they’d always roast one bird on the spot. The memory warmed her heart.

The two of them devoured the chicken like a pair of starving ghosts, finishing it off in no time.

Li Qingling licked her fingers clean, still craving more.

“Now that we’re full, time to get back to work,” she said, standing up. She ran to the stream to wash her hands—and spotted a wild grass carp swimming nearby. Her eyes gleamed. Glancing back to make sure Liu Zhimou wasn’t watching, she pinched her fingers.

A few drops of blood trickled from her fingertips into the stream. Within moments, a dozen fish began circling her hands. She grabbed the bamboo basket and scooped—catching around ten fish in one go, even more than last time.

She gasped. “Brother Zhimou, come look! I caught so many fish!”

Hearing her, Liu Zhimou hurried over. When he saw the basket full of lively fish, his eyes widened. “How… how did you catch all these?”

“With the basket,” she said innocently.

That simple?

Liu Zhimou glanced at the stream—he could only see a couple of small fish swimming there—and felt even more admiration for her. “You’re amazing.”

“Just lucky,” Li Qingling said with a grin, though her heart was pounding.

These past few days, water had been forming on her fingertips, and she’d started to suspect something.

In her previous life, she’d read novels about rebirth—people getting magical space, blood, golden fingers. Maybe Heaven had blessed her too.

But she hadn’t had a chance to test it at home. Now, here in the wilderness, she finally could—and it worked.

Suppressing her joy, Li Qingling picked up her knife. “Brother Zhimou, let’s clean the fish before we leave.”

“Alright.”

They cleaned the fish and continued deeper into the forest.

Along the way, Li Qingling didn’t just hunt with her bow—she also showed Liu Zhimou how to dig simple traps, hoping to catch live animals. She remembered what the inn boy had told her: live prey sold for a higher price than dead ones.

“Xiaoling,” Liu Zhimou suddenly called, crouching on the ground.

Li Qingling had just picked up a freshly shot rabbit. She put it in the basket and walked over. “What is it?”

He looked up at her, eyes crinkling with a smile. “Rabbits.”

She followed his pointing finger and saw a nest of tiny baby rabbits nestled in the grass.

Laughing, she patted his shoulder. “Let’s bring them home and raise them.” She gazed at the little bunnies, already forming an idea.

It was a pleasant surprise. Liu Zhimou was delighted too. He gathered some dry grass, placed it in the basket to make a nest, and gently scooped the bunnies inside.

Zhirou would definitely love them.