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Wen Qinghe hesitated for a moment but decided not to move just yet.
The farm work season had begun, and for the past two days, the brigade leader had been calling on the entire village to rush the corn harvest.
She planned to wait until this busy period passed before asking the brigade leader about moving.
But fate would not let her wait.
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Wen Qinghe was roused from sleep by the rolling thunder, though she was too drowsy to open her eyes. She knew it would rain soon, so she buried her head under the quilt and tried to sleep on.
Half-asleep, she thought she heard someone knocking on her door.
At first, she assumed she was still dreaming, but the knocking persisted.
It was supposed to be the dead of night, utterly silent, yet outside the thunder roared, the wind howled, and lightning intermittently flashed across her room.
The knocking grew more urgent, and Wen Qinghe instantly snapped awake. It wasn’t hard to imagine why—she had watched a suspense film about a midnight murder the previous afternoon.
And with the pervert from their youth camp having surfaced just a few days ago, she now regretted not listening to Yan Xiao’s advice to move out in time.
Her spatial ability had always been her trump card; she did not want to expose herself unless absolutely necessary.
But now, listening to the pouring rain outside and the continuous knocking, her fear spiked.
She tried to get out of bed to find a weapon, but when her foot touched the floor, it met a cold, wet liquid.
“Ahhhhh!!!”
The knocking grew even more frantic.
“Qingqing! Qingqing! Don’t be afraid! It’s me, Yan Xiao!”
Hearing the familiar voice outside, her heart settled slightly—but then she remembered the mysterious liquid she had just touched.
Her fear magnified: “Waaah… Yan Xiao!! There’s something in my room!”
Yan Xiao, hearing this, didn’t hesitate. He called softly for her to move back.
With one kick, he opened the door and saw her huddled in the corner of the bed, wrapped in a quilt, trembling. The water in the room had nearly reached the bed.
His heart ached, and he carefully waded through the water, mindful not to splash it onto her bed.
In a gentle voice so as not to frighten her:
“Sweetheart? It’s me… Yan Xiao…”
Wen Qinghe cautiously peeked out from under the quilt. She hadn’t grabbed a flashlight yet; the room was pitch dark, filled only with thunder and the downpour outside.
Her voice trembled as she tested him:
“Yan… Xiao?”
“It’s me, don’t be afraid!”
Seeing her tangled hair and tear-streaked face peeking out, he cursed himself for not coming sooner.
Noticing she wore only thin clothes, he quickly draped his raincoat around her, wrapping both her and the quilt, holding her close.
“Waaah! Yan Xiao—so scary! There’s something under my bed!”
“Sweetheart, don’t be afraid. There’s nothing—it’s just water seeping into your room. Let me get you out, okay?”
Hesitant, Wen Qinghe lifted her head from his chest. “Isn’t… that blood?”
Yan Xiao was surprised, and looking down, he saw the water was nearly knee-deep.
Suppressing a laugh, he realized her imagination had gotten the better of her.
“No, it’s just rain. The water has already reached my knees. Sweetheart, if you’re scared, you can close your eyes.”
Realizing it wasn’t blood, she felt wrapped in a blanket of safety. Relaxing, she remembered the things she’d left in the cupboard and tugged on his chest.
“Brother Yan, there’s a satchel in the drawer we need to take.”
Yan Xiao nodded, reached over, and took out the army-green bag from the drawer.
Seeing the heavy rain outside, he carefully placed her on the bed, handed her the satchel to hold, and then wrapped her entirely in the raincoat.
The raincoat was large enough to cover her from head to toe along with the quilt.
He lifted her, making sure she wouldn’t get wet, and stepped outside.
——————————————
The other educated youths were awakened by Yan Xiao’s earlier knocking. Seeing water flooding the houses, nearly reaching the beds, they scrambled to protect their valuables.
No one paid attention to the fact that Yan Xiao had carried the beautiful girl away.
Tang Lingling had been worried about Wen Qinghe, but hearing Yan Xiao’s voice, she realized he cared more than she did and finally relaxed.
——————————————
Although Yan Xiao’s home was at the foot of the mountain, it was the highest point in Fengjia Village of the Hongxing Brigade.
There was no risk of flooding here.
He carried Wen Qinghe straight to his house and placed her on the bed he had prepared earlier, tucking the quilt around her, then boiled water to make ginger tea.
Though he had been careful all the way there, keeping her wrapped to prevent her from getting wet, her small hands were still ice-cold when he set her down.
Worried, he went into the kitchen, planning to buy a stove for her room the next day.
He had once been unbothered by the cold, but now in mid-October, seeing her hands so cold, he worried how she would endure winter.
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After Yan Xiao left, Wen Qinghe curiously examined the room.
Under the dim kerosene lamp, she saw that the room was around 20–30 square meters, with cement covering the walls and floor.
It contained only a large wardrobe, a bed, and a desk.
So this was his room?
Just then, she saw him enter, holding an enamel cup in one hand and a wooden basin in the other.
He placed the basin by the bed and handed her the cup.
“Qingqing, this is ginger tea. I cooled it in the kitchen, so it’s not very hot—drink it while it’s warm.”
Wen Qinghe frowned—she disliked ginger.
But thinking of his kind gesture, she pinched her nose and sipped carefully.
Despite expecting the taste, the spice still brought tears to her eyes.
Yan Xiao watched, amused and heartbroken at the same time—just as he had anticipated.
After two sips, she refused to drink more.
He didn’t force her, letting her warm her hands in the cup instead.
He then took a new towel, soaked it in water, and carefully lifted the quilt to take her feet out. Seeing them made his heart skip a beat.
Her body was delicate everywhere.
Her small feet were like fine white jade, and her rounded toes looked like tiny pink pearls adorning them.
Such feet were not meant for walking—they deserved to be held and admired.
But the instant his fingers touched them, the coldness snapped him out of his fantasies.
He immediately wrapped her feet in a hot towel, frowning: “Why are your feet so cold…”
Startled by the touch, Wen Qinghe flinched.
“Mm… an old problem…”
Like her own body, this one always had cold hands and feet in winter. Even before winter fully came, she often felt cold—likely due to the original owner’s frailty.
Yan Xiao submerged her jade-like feet in the hot water.
“Better?”
“Mm… so warm…”
Feeling the warmth spread through her body, Wen Qinghe sighed with comfort.
After a long night, with the chill gone and warmth returning, she grew drowsy.
After Yan Xiao massaged her feet for a while, she hadn’t spoken, and when he looked up, he saw her leaning against the bedpost, asleep, her little face flushed.
He carefully dried her feet and placed them gently on the bed.
Seeing her sleep awkwardly, he adjusted her posture.
Looking at her delicate, innocent sleeping face and exquisite features, a small smile curved his lips.
Finally, he could openly watch her sleep—she was his.