Chapter 11 – Falling Ill

Seeing the man walking toward her against the light, Wen Qinghe tilted her head up to look at Yan Xiao. His tall, broad frame was like a mountain, blocking out the blazing sun entirely for her.

Bronzed skin, a high straight nose bridge, beads of sweat sliding down the fine lines of his face, and that prominent Adam’s apple moving up and down—

Wen Qinghe felt her heart heat up inexplicably, her gaze dropping.

Because of the work, the blue jacket on his torso was stained dark and light with sweat, clinging to his strong chest, faintly revealing the lines of firm abs.

His sleeves were rolled up, revealing forearms where veins bulged, thicker even than her calves.

That lean waist, and further down…

Cough… They say that men with tall, straight nose bridges are well-endowed elsewhere too.

And those long legs—

In modern terms, this was the golden ratio itself. Not something that flashy gym physiques could compare with.

For some reason, this man overflowing with masculine hormones felt dangerously attractive.

But thinking about the era she was in and her frail body’s limitations, she had to give up the thought entirely.

Any further fantasies had to be tucked away…

…

Noticing the little girl’s unabashed gaze lingering on him, Yan Xiao’s muscles tightened unconsciously, his ears turning red.

Yet he didn’t avoid her eyes—he was confident enough in his physique.

He just didn’t know if this was the type the little girl liked.

But then he recalled Feng Tiezhu saying the village girls all preferred scholarly educated youths.

At that, his face fell. These muscles he’d built up over years of hard labor couldn’t be changed in a short time.

Maybe he should think of a way to slim down?

…

As the sun climbed higher, Wen Qinghe’s forehead began to bead with sweat. Looking at her pale face, far too white, Yan Xiao forced himself out of his messy thoughts and asked in a low voice:

“Are you still feeling unwell?”

Wen Qinghe answered honestly: “Not anymore.”

That morning, knowing she had to work, she had taken her medicine in advance.

She had figured out that as long as she didn’t get startled or overexert herself, and moved slowly, she usually wouldn’t have those suffocating attacks.

Thinking about how he had just finished all her work in no time at all,

If it had been her, just pulling those weeds might have cost her half her life.

Yan Xiao had done her share of work for her—likely even delaying his own labor. She felt a little guilty.

“Thank you. You helped me pull all the weeds, but I didn’t do anything. Didn’t this delay your work today?”

“No need to thank me. It was mine to do. You don’t need to go to work in the future either. Later, I’ll tell the brigade leader. I have strength to spare, one man’s enough for two people’s work.”

Wen Qinghe was stunned.

“How can that be?”

“If you feel uneasy, then in the future, if I need something from you, you can help me in return.”

Wen Qinghe honestly couldn’t think of anything she could help him with. This man seemed capable of everything.

But considering her body—even just walking to the fields was difficult. To do heavy farm work? Impossible.

So she carefully suggested:

“Then let me pay you. How much do you think is fair?”

Yan Xiao’s brows furrowed deeply. But he realized if he refused payment, she likely wouldn’t feel comfortable accepting his help.

“One yuan a day.”

Wen Qinghe was shocked at the cost of living here. But remembering how building a bed and cabinet had only cost two yuan in labor,

Still, the money and ration tickets she brought with her were only being used to hire someone to work. Even if she paid him until the chaos of the era ended, it would be enough.

Without hesitation, she said: “Alright, then I’ll pay you a month in advance when we get back.”

…

On the way back, Yan Xiao had wanted to carry her on his back, but Wen Qinghe felt that in this era, relationships between men and women were sensitive enough. To be pressed so closely against this man—it was terrifying. So she firmly refused.

She insisted on walking back herself. But now, unlike the cool morning, the sun was scorching overhead. After only a few steps, her breathing grew labored.

With a good distance left before the educated youth dorm, she had no choice but to clutch her chest and grit her teeth, adjusting her breath as she went.

But after only a few more steps, her knees buckled, the world spun, and Yan Xiao caught her just in time.

“Comrade Wen? Wen Qinghe?”

Seeing her face pale as paper, Yan Xiao no longer cared about her earlier refusal. He scooped her up in his arms and rushed straight to the barefoot doctor.

By the time Wen Qinghe regained some strength, she was staring at an unfamiliar room.

“…Comrade Yan, take me back to the educated youth dorm… I have medicine.”

At her words, he didn’t hesitate to turn around and head straight back.

Cradling the small, soft figure in his arms, so light she felt like a feather, he didn’t even dare use strength.

Once at the small dorm room, he set her down on the little bed, lowering his head to ask: “Where’s the medicine?”

“…The white bottle in the drawer.”

Watching him pull open the drawer of the cabinet he’d delivered that morning,

Wen Qinghe, now much better, took the bottle from him. “Thank you, Comrade Yan, I’ll do it myself.”

She poured out one pill and swallowed it.

Yan Xiao studied the little bottle for a while before placing it back in the drawer.

“How long have you had this illness?”

Wen Qinghe wasn’t surprised he asked—after all, she’d collapsed right in front of him.

“Since I was born. But as long as I take medicine on time, and don’t exert myself, usually it won’t flare up.”

But thinking back just now, she had only walked a few steps, yet still had that suffocating chest pain.

Could it really be that the doctor’s words were true—that she wouldn’t live past eighteen?

Yan Xiao had seen clearly when fetching her medicine—the bottle wasn’t very full.

He thought of the old Chinese doctor he knew. He wondered if heart disease could be treated.

When she had been in his arms just now, frail as a little kitten—then recalling what he’d heard about the poor food at the educated youth dorm—

His brows tightened. He had to find a way to get her something nourishing.

“Rest well. As for the work, I’ll speak with the brigade leader.”

From the army-green satchel by her bed, Wen Qinghe pulled out three yuan and held it out to him.

“Brother Yan, I’ll be troubling you a lot from now on…”

At the sudden form of address, his ears flushed red. He pursed his lips, taking the money from her pale hand.

“I’m not afraid of trouble. Besides, you’re not trouble…”

Looking at her delicate wrist, as if it might snap with the slightest touch.

Her skin was impossibly fair. And when he’d held her earlier, the faint sweet fragrance that lingered in his breath—

At the time, he’d only been anxious. But recalling it now, he rubbed his fingers together, tightening his grip on the banknotes. Were all young girls this fragrant?

It even felt like the whole room was filled with her soft, subtle sweetness.

That petite figure, the softness in his arms—she was like a fragile porcelain doll.

Someone to be cherished and protected with all his heart.

Thinking of her weak body, his gaze darkened.

…

Wen Qinghe noticed how Yan Xiao had been hovering around her all morning. He had probably already delayed his work, so she quickly urged him:

“Brother Yan, thank you so much for today! I’m fine now, you should get back to work～”

For the first time, Yan Xiao felt that the words Brother Yan from her lips sounded so pleasant. He answered softly, “Alright.”

And then left—his steps clumsy and uneven.

Seeing this, Wen Qinghe couldn’t help but laugh.

She hadn’t expected this fierce-looking man to be so pure. All she’d done was call him Brother Yan.

…

The sight of Wen Qinghe collapsing, pale-faced, had been witnessed by villagers resting under a tree nearby.

From that day on, word spread through Hongxing Brigade: the new city girl educated youth was as delicate as a flower.

Gorgeously pretty, yes, but unfortunately a sickly one. She couldn’t take three steps without panting, or seven without collapsing. She couldn’t do any work at all. A living “Sick Beauty Xi Shi.”

As for why no one dared gossip about Yan Xiao?

What a joke—this was the man who’d once killed wolves with his bare hands.

In the face of absolute strength, no one dared whisper a word.