Chapter 48: Zhou Xiaochuan’s Secret (2)

After entering, Jiang Rou did not expose Zhou Xiaochuan’s forced composure.

She first reached out and touched Zhou Xiaochuan’s forehead.

The warmth under her palm was not too high—it seemed his fever had subsided.

Still worried, Jiang Rou asked: “Does your head hurt?”

A headache was the worst symptom of a fever—that throbbing pain deep in the nerves, as if the brain was being torn apart, yet it never stopped.

Jiang Rou feared that Zhou Xiaochuan, being stubborn, would endure it without saying anything. So she had to ask clearly.

Zhou Xiaochuan shook his head. “It doesn’t hurt.”

Jiang Rou silently observed his expression. Seeing that he didn’t seem to be lying, she continued asking: “What about your stomach? Does it still feel uncomfortable?”

His stomach…

Zhou Xiaochuan’s stomach felt warm and comfortable.

Perhaps it was the effect of the large bowl of millet porridge he had eaten at noon.

Even now, he could still taste its lingering fragrance. The bitterness left by the fever at the base of his tongue had been completely suppressed by the sweetness of the pumpkin millet porridge.

“…It doesn’t feel uncomfortable.”

Zhou Xiaochuan shook his head again.  

Hearing this, Jiang Rou felt slightly relieved. She nodded along and then said softly: “Stretch out your hand.”  

“Ah?”  

Zhou Xiaochuan was stunned, his mouth slightly open in rare confusion.  

For a moment, he couldn’t follow Jiang Rou’s train of thought. Why was she suddenly talking about his hands?  

His hands weren’t injured or in pain.  

But what Zhou Xiaochuan didn’t care about was something that had been weighing on Jiang Rou’s mind all along.  

Jiang Rou repeated: “Xiaochuan, stretch out your hand.”  

Zhou Xiaochuan hesitated.  

Jiang Rou’s voice remained gentle, yet there was an undeniable firmness in her tone.  

Just like last night, when she carried him on her back despite his resistance.  

This time, Zhou Xiaochuan did not rebel against that firmness.  

After a slight hesitation—  

He slowly stretched out his hand.  

Zhou Xiaochuan’s hands were not what one would call beautiful.  

The young boy had endured too much hardship and done too much farm work. His palms were already covered in calluses, his knuckles slightly misshapen, and the worst part—his skin was dry and cracked.  

When he held out his hands, he didn’t think much of it.  

Most of the people around him were like this.  

There was nothing to be ashamed of.  

But then—  

The moment Jiang Rou’s hands wrapped around his palms, that soft, warm touch pressing against his rough skin—he suddenly realized it.  

A rush of heat surged up Zhou Xiaochuan’s face, burning uncomfortably.  

His dark eyes darted around nervously.  

His palms trembled, almost pulling away on reflex.  

But Jiang Rou held on tightly.  

She was afraid that this little wolf cub would regret it. Seeing that he had finally reached out on his own, she immediately grasped his hands firmly.  

She sat down by the bed, holding Zhou Xiaochuan’s hand, turning it over from palm to back. She examined the marks left by the IV needle and the patch of dark purple bruising.  

“How about here? Does it hurt?”  

“It doesn’t—hiss…”

Just as Zhou Xiaochuan stubbornly claimed it didn’t hurt, Jiang Rou pressed her fingers gently against the bruised patch on the back of his hand.  

Zhou Xiaochuan’s small face scrunched up instantly.  

He couldn’t hold back and sucked in a sharp breath.  

It hurt.  

How could it not hurt?  

His hand had been pricked by thick needles all night, with cold liquid being injected into his body. The pain wasn’t just from the bruises—it was an aching numbness, a lingering chill.  

When Jiang Rou first held Zhou Xiaochuan’s hand, she had already noticed how cold his palm felt.  

She sighed inwardly, then spoke in a slow and meaningful tone.  

“Xiaochuan, if it hurts, then it hurts. If it doesn’t, then it doesn’t. You’re still just a child—saying something hurts isn’t shameful.”  

Jiang Rou knew that, at this stage, Zhou Xiaochuan might not be able to fully accept these words.  

But she hoped he would come to understand them.  

She also hoped that he could be more like a child.  

A happy childhood could heal decades of life ahead. It could even change a fate that once seemed set in stone.  

After saying this, Jiang Rou didn’t look at Zhou Xiaochuan’s reaction.  

She reached into her pocket and pulled out an egg.  

Zhou Xiaochuan’s eyes widened.  

An egg!  

Again!  

Ever since Jiang Rou arrived at their home, they had never lacked eggs.  

Before, they couldn’t even eat one egg a month, but now, this woman stuffed eggs into his and Xiaohua’s hands almost every day.  

Where did their family get so many eggs?  

The little wolf cub furrowed his brows deeply.  

But…  

The egg Jiang Rou took out this time wasn’t for Zhou Xiaochuan to eat.  

It was a hard-boiled egg.  

The shell had already been peeled, revealing the smooth, white egg.  

It was wrapped in a clean handkerchief.  

Jiang Rou held Zhou Xiaochuan’s small hand in one of hers, while the other gently rolled the warm egg over the dark purple bruise on the back of his hand.  

The egg was still warm.  

The moment it touched the bruise—

Zhou Xiaochuan shuddered from the heat.

“Endure it for a bit. The higher the temperature, the better it is for promoting blood circulation and reducing bruising.”

Jiang Rou explained softly, her hand continuing to roll the egg over his skin.

After a while, Zhou Xiaochuan’s hand gradually adapted to the warmth. The bruised area no longer hurt, and even his cold fingers began to feel warm.

Because of this, Zhou Xiaochuan found it unbelievable. His dark, bright eyes kept glancing at Jiang Rou.

His lips moved slightly, but no sound came out, as if he wanted to say something but hesitated.

Jiang Rou lowered her head, her focus entirely on her movements. After a moment, she spoke slowly.

“Xiaochuan, shall we have a chat?”

“…”

Zhou Xiaochuan pressed his lips together and remained silent.

His heart was in turmoil, yet he still didn’t know how to talk to Jiang Rou.

What Jiang Rou was doing now completely contradicted the image of a “vicious stepmother” that he had ingrained in his mind. The conflict between these two perceptions clashed violently within him.

But Jiang Rou was already used to Zhou Xiaochuan’s silence.

She continued speaking at her own pace. “Xiaochuan, did you go to the river to bathe?”

As she said this, she suddenly lifted her head.

In that instant, she caught the disbelief in Zhou Xiaochuan’s eyes.

She found out…

She knew…

Zhou Xiaochuan’s entire body tensed up instantly. His hands clenched into fists once more, and he almost leaped off the bed.

But Jiang Rou’s clear eyes remained fixed on him, watching him quietly—

As if she could see straight through him.

Under her gaze, Zhou Xiaochuan’s throat tightened. He bit his lower lip, nodded slightly, and responded with a soft “Mm.”

He had secretly gone to the river to bathe.

This matter had to be traced back to a few days ago…

Back then, Jiang Rou had taken the opportunity to bathe Zhou Xiaohua while she was alone.

The little girl, who had been as dirty as a soot-covered coal ball, had transformed into a fair, milk-white, adorable child.

Jiang Rou had even lathered Zhou Xiaohua with soap and applied lotion, leaving her clean and fragrant.

After that, Zhou Xiaohua still clung to Zhou Xiaochuan, eating, sleeping, and playing games with him as usual.

But Zhou Xiaochuan could feel the difference—he smelled bad, while Zhou Xiaohua smelled nice.

If something smelly touched something fragrant, the fragrance would turn into a stench too.

Zhou Xiaochuan was afraid that he would make Zhou Xiaohua smell bad. He was even more afraid that Zhou Xiaohua would find him stinky and stop sticking to him.

So…

When Xu Chunxiang wasn’t paying attention, Zhou Xiaochuan secretly went to the river.

He let Zhou Xiaohua sit on the grassy riverbank while he took off all his clothes and jumped into the water to bathe.

He scrubbed himself clean before putting his old clothes back on.

Zhou Xiaochuan thought he had done it without anyone noticing. Zhou Xiaohua couldn’t speak, so surely no one would ever find out.

But now, Jiang Rou had exposed him with just one sentence.