Chapter 11

The entire Yan family believed that Yan Qingqing owed them.

If they hadn’t adopted her back then, she would have died long ago!

Yet no one ever thought about what kind of life Yan Qingqing had been living these past years, working herself to the bone for them.

Yan Dahai was displeased that he didn’t manage to get any money from Yang Zhaodi, but he still went back to his room to dig out his private stash.

Of course, this stash was money he had previously wrung out of Yan Qingqing.

Although he and his younger brother, Yan Xiaohai, were practically raised by Yan Qingqing, Yan Dahai felt that was only natural—she still hadn’t done enough in his eyes.

After putting the money away, he glanced at his own clothes and shoes in dissatisfaction and, as he was leaving, shouted at Yang Zhaodi:
“Mom! Since Yan Qingqing lives so close, tell her to come back tonight and wash my clothes and shoes!”

His mother was no good at housework—Yan Qingqing always cleaned the house better.

Yang Zhaodi just gave a grumpy grunt of acknowledgment, while Yan Xiaohai grabbed a quick bite and went off to play.

Nearby, Yan Fugui tapped his pipe and said:
“Make Qingqing come back more often. Just because she’s married doesn’t mean she can ignore her parents’ house. She should come early to cook and wash, take care of everything at home, and then go back to her in-laws afterward.

“And remember, back when we had no children, we adopted Yan Qingqing first—and only then did we have our own son. People say maybe she brought her brother’s luck with her, so don’t you fall out with her completely and make her turn her back on the family.”

Yang Zhaodi felt nauseated at the thought.
“I don’t believe that nonsense! My son was born by my own ability! That dead girl Qingqing—she smashed my head with a brick, you didn’t see my injury? We raised her for almost twenty years, beat her for over ten of them, and she never resisted. I don’t believe she dares disobey me now!”

Even as she spoke, she couldn’t eat her own cooking anymore. She stood up to go find Yan Qingqing, but as soon as she reached the doorway, she remembered how Qingqing had fought back that night, desperate and fearless—and she lost her nerve.

Her eyes rolled slyly, and instead she picked up a tub of laundry and went to the river.

As she washed, she chatted with several village women.

Aunt Chen pounded clothes with a club, glanced at the bandage on Yang Zhaodi’s head, and asked:
“Oh my, Zhaodi, what happened to your head?”

Yang Zhaodi immediately let out a dramatic sigh and said pitifully:
“All because of my Qingqing! She… ah, forget it, I’d better not say!”

Aunt Chen on her left and Sister-in-law Ma on her right immediately leaned closer, curious:
“What happened? Tell us, we’ll help you think of something!”

Yang Zhaodi sniffed:
“People say family shame shouldn’t be spread, but some things I just have to tell. Qingqing may be my daughter, but why did I send her to marry into that sickbed to ‘bring good luck’? Because before she got married, I caught her secretly fooling around with young men more than once!

“What parent could stand a daughter behaving like that, shaming the family? I wanted to marry her off quickly, and on her wedding day I warned her not to flirt with men after entering her in-laws’ home. But she got so angry, she smashed me on the head with a brick! I’ve raised her for nearly twenty years—was it easy for me?”

The villagers had already looked down on Yang Zhaodi—after all, what kind of mother would send her own daughter to marry a dying man to bring him luck?

But now, after hearing this story, they exchanged shocked glances, their eyes blazing with gossip.

Yan Qingqing wasn’t an ordinary figure in the village.

First, her beauty—no matter how ragged her clothes or how much she worked under the sun all year round, her skin remained fair with a healthy flush. Even more maddening, the more sun she got, the fairer she seemed! Her eyes were bright like autumn water, her nose straight, and her lips rosy like ripe cherries.

As she grew older, her figure became even more alluring—slim waist, long legs, and a full bosom.

She was like a delicate, pure orchid, radiating an elegant charm.

But a beauty like that draws envy and malice.

Everyone in the village, men and women alike, couldn’t help stealing glances at her. The wives naturally resented her, looking at her through tinted glasses.

Now that even her adoptive mother said such things, the crowd immediately began criticizing her:

“She doesn’t look like a decent girl at all!”
“Zhaodi, you raised a white-eyed wolf! If she dared hit me, I’d slap her dead!”
“A girl like that won’t have a good life with someone like Gu Chi. That brute would beat her to death with one punch!”

Yang Zhaodi felt secretly pleased. Gossip spread like wildfire in the village. Once the Gu family heard it, with Gu Chi’s cold, violent temper, he’d definitely make Yan Qingqing suffer!

And after she got beaten, she’d learn how good her mother’s home really was!

To make her words sound more convincing, Yang Zhaodi swore:
“I’m not slandering my own daughter! If there’s a single lie in what I said, may I drown in this river today!”

Feeling smug, she scrubbed harder—until suddenly someone shot a stone at the back of her head with a slingshot. Crack!

“Ouch!” Yang Zhaodi lost her balance and plunged straight into the river!

Sister-in-law Ma and Aunt Chen stared wide-eyed in shock.

She’d just sworn an oath, and it came true immediately?
Did that mean everything she said was false?

In the water, Yang Zhaodi choked and spluttered, crying desperately for help. The women hurried to fish her out with a pole.

The weather was freezing, and Yang Zhaodi shivered from head to toe, terrified.

In the distance, Li Ergou, the culprit with the slingshot, had already made his getaway.

Meanwhile, Yan Qingqing knew nothing of this.

She had gone to town with Gu Chi to get his injuries checked.

The town doctor remembered him at once:
“Aren’t you the young man who fell off the mountain? Your mother brought you in once—you were in critical condition. How did you recover so quickly? Where did you get treated?”

Gu Chi himself found it strange.
“I just lay at home unconscious… then got married, and woke up. Now I only feel a little pain at the wound site, nothing else.”

The doctor’s jaw dropped.

Yan Qingqing stayed silent the whole time, terrified of giving anything away.

In the end, the doctor did all the routine checks, completely baffled.
“Your vitals are excellent. Eat more nutritious food, rest as much as possible, and come back if you feel any discomfort. I’ll change your head dressing once more—keep it clean and it’ll heal fine.”

Relieved that Gu Chi was fine, Yan Qingqing quietly slipped away while he was changing his bandage. She pretended to buy medicine for back pain, but secretly swapped everything for better supplies from her hidden space, to treat Father Gu’s waist problem. She also picked up eye drops and ointments, likewise switching them out.

When Gu Chi came out, he saw her holding a bag full of medicine—for his parents.

She blinked.
“I used some of the betrothal money to buy medicine for your dad and mom.”

Gu Chi didn’t comment. He knew how other young brides behaved—demanding more dowry money, then handing it to their own family, and even draining their in-laws afterward. His own sister-in-law was exactly like that.

But Yan Qingqing seemed to treat money like it burned her hands. She tried to give it back to his mother, to him—and when forced to keep it, she spent it on his parents instead.

He couldn’t help rubbing her hair.
“Are you stupid?”

Yan Qingqing’s ears turned red as she dodged his gaze.

This was the first time she had ever been this close to a man. Being patted on the head felt as if he saw her as a child—but it was strangely… comforting.

Pressing her lips together, she followed Gu Chi out of the hospital.

He stopped at a stall selling candied hawthorn skewers, bought a big bright-red stick, and handed it to her.

“Eat.”

Yan Qingqing froze.
“I… I’m not a child.”

But when she was a child, she never thought she deserved something as sweet as candied hawthorn.

Only cherished children got such treats.

Gu Chi was the first person ever to buy her one.
The first person to hand her money in handfuls of hundreds.

Looking at her small, delicate face, stunned and misty-eyed, Gu Chi sighed softly.

He rubbed her head again.
“You’re younger than me. If that’s not a child, what is? Just eat it.”

He pushed the candy skewer into her hand.

Yan Qingqing couldn’t describe the feeling in her chest. She took a careful bite—sweet and sour, the best thing she’d ever tasted, just like her heart at that moment.