Chapter 7

All things were veiled in shadow.

In Jiang Henián’s mind, a rapid-fire montage flashed by like a movie reel.

The protagonist was her… and yet not her.

The “Jiang Henián” in those images, with thick braids, silently fawned over a handsome educated youth from the city—helping with his chores, bringing him food, secretly saving every bit of money she could to trade for cloth coupons to buy him clothes.

She even offered money to go with him to the city to visit his sick mother, but after taking her money, he abandoned her halfway. First, she barely escaped a conman, then ran into a group of famine refugees from the south, got completely lost, and ended up foraging wild herbs in the mountains in the cold.

When a vagrant tried to rob and assault her, she accidentally killed him in self-defense. Covered in blood and stumbling home, she fell down a mountain slope and smashed her head on a rock—dead.

Even at death, her hand clutched tightly to a few wilted wild vegetables.

Jiang Henián heard the sound of pages flipping in her head.

Turns out… she hadn’t simply traveled back to the 1970s—she’d transmigrated into a book, a vintage novel called “The Educated Youth Husband’s Comeback to Become a Tycoon in the 1970s.”

Her namesake, unloved and uncared for, was a disposable side character who died in Chapter 10—her tragic ending dismissed in just a few lines.

Jiang. He. Nián…

Same pretty face as hers, but how could she have been blind enough to fall for that guy?

She slowly lifted her head to look at the handsome and gentle-looking Song Wenqing standing before her, her gaze turning cold and unreadable.

This wasn’t some refined gentleman of elegance and warmth—it was a cold-blooded, selfish snake.

“You pushed me.”

Jiang Henián’s lips curved slightly as her voice dropped to a soft murmur.

“Comrade Song, I hit my head. It hurts terribly…”

The desire to knife someone could not be hidden in one’s eyes.

Song Wenqing felt a chill under her gaze. The smile on his lips stiffened.

He nervously studied the very-different-than-usual Jiang Henián and quickly explained:

“N-no, I didn’t mean to. Don’t be mad, okay? You didn’t tell anyone I pushed you, or mention what happened between us… right?”

Jiang Henián gave a light snort. “I just woke up. You’re the only one I’ve seen.”

Song Wenqing exhaled in relief.

“But…”

Jiang Henián casually tossed the thick braid over her shoulder and asked slowly, “Is there supposed to be something between us?”

She tilted her head with an innocent look of confusion, but those fox-like eyes shimmered with barely hidden mockery.

On the face of this formerly gloomy village girl, there was suddenly a hint of charm and brightness, even the tear mole at the corner of her eye seemed vivid.

Song Wenqing was momentarily dazzled.

He nearly blurted out, “Didn’t you love me to death?!”

Luckily, he caught himself.

Before, he had only pitied this dumb village girl who worshipped him so much. He’d thrown her a little kindness here and there—but actually get involved with her? Lower his worth? Never.

He, Song Wenqing, was destined for greater things. He’d leave this backwater dump eventually and make those who forced him down here pay dearly.

Seeing that Jiang Henián had the sense not to expose their “relationship,” his smile became a bit more genuine.

“It’s nothing. We’re just good comrades. You didn’t come to work this morning—I was worried. I’m relieved to see you’re okay.”

“You coming to work this afternoon? It just wasn’t the same without you.”

He even put on a rare look of anticipation.

Without Jiang Henián helping today, he had only managed to finish half of his cornfield work. His clothes were far dirtier than usual.

Sneaking away to check on her had already taken effort—now that she was fine, surely she wouldn’t just let him keep suffering out there alone, right?

Thinking about how Jiang Henián used to avoid people just to help him in secret, he sighed inwardly.

Sigh… this girl really is crazy about me. If her family situation weren’t so poor, maybe I’d even consider it.

Song Wenqing was completely immersed in his own narcissistic fantasy, completely missing the way Jiang Henián’s face was turning green with rage.

What a shameless jerk! Those abacus beads are practically flying at my face!

Thick-skinned, freeloading sleaze.

Jiang Henián forcefully suppressed the urge to roll her eyes so hard they’d hit the ceiling. She took a deep breath.

Feeling reassured, huh?

Well then, this lady couldn’t let you stay comfortable for long.

She suddenly cried out, “Aiyo!” stumbling as she grabbed the wall with one hand and held her head with the other.

“Ow, it hurts!”

Song Wenqing’s face tightened. “What now? You were fine just a moment ago!”

“I’ve been feeling dizzy and stabbing pains since I woke up—and now that I’ve seen you, it’s even worse. I must have internal injuries.”

Jiang Henián frowned deeply, looking like she was in unbearable pain, clutching her head as she walked out.

“I have to go to the county clinic. I’ll beg my mom for money and ration tickets.”

“Don’t! Wait!”

Song Wenqing rushed to stop her.

“Don’t worry, I won’t tell your mom you pushed me. I won’t say you hugged me and tried to kiss me last night either. But if she insists on asking…”

Jiang Henián lowered her eyes with a bitter expression, skillfully hiding the sly glint underneath.

Her stepmother, Wang Chunfang, was infamous in Huagou Village for being fierce and shameless. If Jiang Henián insisted on going to the clinic and spending money, that woman would tear the sky apart to find who was responsible.

When that happened, the ambiguous relationship between Song Wenqing and the original Jiang Henián would be exposed. In this era, even a proper couple had to stay ten feet apart in public.

Even a hug could get a man labeled a pervert and arrested—or forced to pay bride price and marry the girl.

Of course Song Wenqing didn’t want things to escalate. That’s why he’d snuck over to “test the waters.”

As expected, his face darkened immediately upon hearing her.

Song Wenqing was getting more and more regretful.

He shouldn’t have let this woman tempt him last night. When someone approached, he’d quickly pushed her away—and who knew she’d be so fragile, falling and hitting her head on the stone?

He ran fast, so hopefully people only saw a blurry silhouette. But now, he couldn’t let her talk.

“You should lie down again. Rest a few days, you’ll be fine.”

“No, it really hurts!”

Jiang Henián’s eyes filled with tears. She was on a roll, finally letting out all her pent-up frustration.

Acting unhinged feels so damn good.

Both hands on her head, she channeled pure melodrama.

“My head! My head is splitting open!”

“Doctor! I need a doctor! I need to go to the clinic! If we wait too long, I’ll be greeting the King of Hell!”

“Don’t stop me, Comrade Song! If my brain gets messed up, no one will want to marry me…”

Why was she talking so much all of a sudden?

Could she really have hit her head too hard?

Song Wenqing took a cautious step back, looking suspiciously at her.

His brows furrowed deeply. “Fine—but don’t go to your mother!”

“Is Comrade Song offering to pay for my treatment, then?! I knew you were a responsible man!”

Jiang Henián let a few tears fall for dramatic effect, looking deeply touched.

At the same time, she held out her palm toward him with impressive speed and added sweetly:

“No need to give too much. Ten yuan is fine.”

“Ten yuan?!”

Song Wenqing blurted out in disbelief.

His father, a formal worker at a city rubber factory, only earned twenty-three yuan a month. Farmers in this poverty-stricken village barely made a hundred a year.

He had planned to toss her two mao and call it a day.

“Comrade Henián, you’re joking, right?”

“I’m not. I might need hospitalization!”

Jiang Henián counted on her fingers. “It’s twenty li to the county. I can’t walk—I’ll need to pay for a donkey cart. I’ll be hungry—need food coupons. What if there are complications…”

Just then, a sharp female voice rang out from around the corner.

“Comrade Song? What are you doing there? Time to carry corn!”

Song Wenqing’s expression instantly tightened.

Jiang Henián acted like she didn’t hear and started walking toward the voice.

“Never mind, I’ll go ask my mom. She won’t just let me die…”

“Fine, fine, fine! Here!”

Song Wenqing’s forehead veins popped as he angrily pulled out a ten-yuan bill and shoved it into her hand, lowering his voice to a threatening growl.

“Don’t you dare tell anyone what happened last night! Just say you fell on your own!”