Chapter 3: A Delicate Young Lady Arrived in the Village

Wang Guifang noticed that Song Miaomiao’s ears had turned red enough to drip blood, and the fine lines at the corners of her eyes smoothed out.

This feeling of being relied on by her daughter naturally dissolved the lingering sense of unfamiliarity between them, and the two became much closer.

“Sit down first. I happen to have some new cloth in the wardrobe—I’ll sew one for you right now.”

About fifteen minutes later, Wang Guifang returned with a brand-new sanitary pad.

After changing into it, Song Miaomiao felt a bit uncomfortable. The ones she had used before were filled with cotton, inspired by what she had read in storybooks.

But this one was stuffed with ash from plants—smelled strange and made her worry it might leak.

Clearly, making money to improve their standard of living was a top priority.

…

The next morning, Song Miaomiao woke up in bed, her face pale.

She hadn’t slept well the previous night. The bed was too hard, there were too many mosquitoes, and frogs croaked noisily all through the night.

She got up and dressed. One glance into the wardrobe revealed nothing but patched and dusty old clothes, while her own set of silk garments stood out, bright and soft.

Without hesitation, she chose the old clothes and put them on.

The silk dress was too extravagant—unsuitable for working or for life in the countryside.

She braided her long hair into three strands. As she shook her head, she found it surprisingly convenient. No wonder the female leads in all those farming novels liked this hairstyle.

She had worn it like this back in the Song household too, but her mother had told her she looked neither here nor there, so she had given up on it.

She opened the door and stepped outside. Wang Guifang wasn’t home, but the kitchen held a bowl of warm plain porridge and a wild vegetable steamed bun for her.

Song Miaomiao wasn’t used to the taste, but she didn’t waste it—she finished everything.

About half an hour later, Wang Guifang returned. Seeing her wearing Song Qingqing’s old clothes, she paused briefly, then said:

“You and Qingqing are about the same size. Next time I go to the market, I’ll buy some new fabric and make you a few new outfits.”

Song Miaomiao shook her head and spoke frankly:

“Mama, I am your daughter. You don’t have to treat me so cautiously.”

“Treat me the same way you treat Qingqing.”

Wang Guifang’s eyes instantly reddened. She wiped away her tears and repeated “Okay” several times.

“Mama, where did you just go?”

Song Miaomiao reached out to take the basket from her mother’s back. She assumed it would be light, since it only seemed to hold grass, but the moment she picked it up, her arm almost gave out from the weight.

Wang Guifang quickly steadied it and said, “I went to the mountain to pick some wild vegetables and also weeded your father’s grave. We still have some yellow paper at home. Later, I’ll take you to visit the grave, and then we’ll stop by the village head’s house to explain your situation.”

Song Miaomiao nodded.

After sweeping the grave, they went to the village head’s home. Once they explained everything, his eyes widened in shock.

“A mix-up? The babies were switched?”

Wang Guifang said, “Yes. Back then, I was having terrible nightmares during my pregnancy. My husband heard that the Great Awakening Temple in the neighboring county was very spiritual, so he took me there to pray.”

“But a torrential downpour hit that day, and we couldn’t make it back. That very night, I went into labor.”

“Miaomiao’s adoptive mother was also there and about to give birth too. Because of the storm, the temple could only find one midwife. Since both families had the surname Song, the babies got mixed up.”

The village head looked at Song Miaomiao—her beauty so radiant that even in plain clothes, she couldn’t hide her natural elegance.

He thought to himself, With a face like that, no ordinary farming family could’ve raised her.

“Alright. I’ll notify the clan when the time comes.”

Since Miaomiao was a girl and hadn’t been entered into the ancestral hall, a simple notification sufficed—there was no need for any formal ritual.

As they were leaving the village head’s house, a young man in a long robe with a book satchel bumped into Song Miaomiao head-on.

“Ah! Sorry!”

“No, no, it’s okay!”

After this brief and awkward encounter, Song Miaomiao followed her mother and left. But the young man kept staring at her graceful departing figure, completely entranced.

As soon as he got home, he couldn’t wait to ask, “Dad, who was that girl who just left our house?”

…

The news of the baby switch in the Wang family spread through Guli Village in less than half a day.

Many villagers deliberately took the long way just to pass by Wang Guifang’s house for a distant glimpse of Song Miaomiao.

“You haven’t seen her! That girl is so delicate-looking—her skin looks like it could burst with juice. She’s as pretty as a fairy!”

“What’s the use of being pretty? With that pampered look, she probably hasn’t touched a drop of spring water in her life. I bet her crippled old mother will have to keep feeding her forever.”

“I still think Qingqing was better. This new girl might be beautiful, but those slender arms and legs couldn’t even lift a hoe. Whoever marries her will basically be taking in a little madam.”

“You’re just jealous. She’s beautiful—there are plenty of men lining up to marry her as a young madam.”

“This morning, Wang Guifang took her to the village head’s house, and the village head’s son saw her. I heard he’s been pestering his mother to go propose marriage to the Wang family.”

“The village head’s wife is notoriously picky. Her son is still studying—do you think she’d ever agree?”

“Of course she wouldn’t…”

By the riverside, a few women chatted while doing their laundry.

Lu Zheng, passing by, caught wind of their conversation. His expression shifted slightly, and just as he was about to head up the mountain to check the traps he’d set a few days ago, he abruptly changed direction.

…

Song Miaomiao spent an entire day figuring out her family’s situation.

Her mother was originally from Wangjia Village, the neighboring village. After a massive flood destroyed it, she married her father, Song Sanyong.

Song Sanyong had a total of five siblings.

The eldest brother, Song Dayong, was a farmer. The second brother, Song Eryong, was a carpenter. The third sister, Song Yue, had married into the next village. The fourth sister, Song Lan, had married into a family in the county.

The two sisters were less of a concern—they rarely came back after marrying out.

But the two older brothers were a real headache. As soon as the old folks passed away, they immediately pushed to divide the family property.

Their branch had originally been allotted two mu of land.

But right after Song Sanyong died in an accident, Song Dayong and Song Eryong ganged up, claiming that since Song Sanyong had no son, they were reclaiming the two mu of land.

They hadn’t even wanted to leave this clay courtyard behind. If the village head hadn’t stepped in and warned them for going too far, Miaomiao probably wouldn’t even have a roof over her head now.

Luckily, all of Wang Guifang’s family had perished in the flood, or the Song brothers wouldn’t have dared to be so outrageous.

Only Wang Erniu’s father, after the flood, was resettled in Guli Village under government arrangements.

Since he was distantly related to Wang Guifang, he occasionally looked after her and her daughter.

Song Miaomiao scribbled and drew on a wooden board with a charcoal pencil while muttering angrily, “That uncle and second uncle of mine are just the worst!”

Knock knock—

Suddenly, someone knocked on the courtyard gate.

Startled, Song Miaomiao nearly jumped up.

She had that guilty feeling—as if the very people she had just badmouthed were about to catch her red-handed.

“W-who is it?”