Chapter 21 – Why Are You So Good to Me

“You’re back!”

Hearing Wen Qinghe’s soft, sweet voice, Fang Ming was taken aback, pleasantly surprised.

“Yes. Were you waiting for me?”

Wen Qinghe, now clearly recognizing his voice, felt annoyed at herself for mistaking him for someone else, though she couldn’t ignore the faint disappointment in her heart.

As he came closer, she saw clearly that it was one of the educated youths from the courtyard.

Her tone turned distant, polite:

“Oh, it’s you. You’re back early today.”

Even Fang Ming, no matter how slow, could hear the subtle difference in her tone.

She mistook him for someone else?

Who had she taken him for?

Thinking back to that dazzling smile on her delicate face just now, he couldn’t stop a wave of jealousy from rising.

Who was it? Someone who had come to the educated youth courtyard?

Was it another one of their group?

Who had captured this sickly beauty’s attention without him even realizing it?

He thought of how she never went to work in the fields, yet never seemed worried about food.

The amount of meat and grain supplied was enough to feed their entire group of educated youths.

At first, he had assumed it was the work of the brigade leader. But in a countryside where everyone barely got by on coarse cornbread and pickled vegetables, who would have the resources to provide them with fish and meat every single day?

He should have thought of it sooner—Wen Qinghe’s family background was even wealthier than he had imagined.

With that thought, he no longer cared who she had mistaken him for.

Plastering on the perfect smile, coupled with his scholarly air, he believed he looked every bit the cultured gentleman.

“I came back to fetch water. What book are you reading?

I like reading too. I have the complete set of Xu Zhimo’s Prose Collection and The Bell and Drum Towers. We can exchange books to read later…”

In those days, everyone held a natural admiration for scholars.

And since he wore glasses and was a high school graduate, among the educated youths, he was the most favored by the villagers.

Wen Qinghe quickly closed the book and showed him the title.

It was… Postpartum Care for Sows.

“I don’t read much. I just happened to want some sun today, so I picked this up to pass the time.”

Fang Ming’s lips twitched: …

He couldn’t understand why such a soft, delicate girl would enjoy reading something so crude.

But this wronged Wen Qinghe. In her private space, she had tablets and notebooks loaded with countless novels and films.

But those didn’t belong to this era—she couldn’t bring them out.

This book, she had simply found at the courtyard gate earlier that morning. The title seemed amusing, so she flipped it open while basking in the sun.

Seeing there was no way to bond over books, Fang Ming searched for another topic.

But before he could speak, a voice came from the gate.

“Fang Zhizhi, you just got back? Oh right, did you see a book on the road?”

A villager with an odd odor hurried over.

Because Fang Ming was standing in front of her, blocking the view, the villager hadn’t seen Wen Qinghe yet.

Already impatient at being interrupted, Fang Ming’s irritation doubled when he saw the man—filthy from head to toe, reeking, with traces of manure still on him.

Pinching his nose, he snapped:
“Don’t come in. Stay away from me! I didn’t see any book.”

Besides, he didn’t believe such a crude villager would even know how to read.

“Was it Postpartum Care for Sows?”

A sweet, clear voice chimed in as Wen Qinghe stepped out from under the eaves.

Her ethereal beauty made Feng Congjun, the villager, gape in awe.

In his thirty-plus years of life, he had never seen such a stunning girl—like a fairy descended to earth.

So this was the “sick beauty” who rarely appeared from the educated youth courtyard?

He couldn’t help but stare blankly.

“Hello, uncle. Do you mean this book?”

…

Feng Congjun came back to his senses and saw the book in her hands—indeed, the one he had lost.

He quickly spoke with gratitude:
“Yes, yes, that’s the one! I’ve been searching for it everywhere, didn’t know where I dropped it…”

He reached out to take it, but when he saw her jade-like fingers and spotless, fragrant presence, he looked down at his manure-stained hands and filthy clothes.

Instinctively, he stepped back.

“Um, miss, my hands aren’t clean. Just put it on the ground, I’ll pick it up.”

But Wen Qinghe didn’t comply. She went inside, fetched a piece of old newspaper left from pasting the walls, carefully wrapped the book, and handed it to him.

“Uncle, if it’s put on the ground it’ll get dirty. If you don’t mind, please take it like this.”

Feng Congjun was deeply moved that this beautiful girl showed no disgust toward his smell. Not only was she beautiful, she had a kind heart.

Unlike that bespectacled educated youth who fancied himself refined.

Beaming, he thanked Wen Qinghe, holding the neatly wrapped, faintly fragrant book like a treasure, and happily returned to the pig farm.

Meanwhile, Fang Ming had worn a disapproving look the whole time she stood near the filthy villager.

“He smelled so awful, and you still went close. Aren’t you afraid he’d dirty your clothes?”

Wen Qinghe frowned.
“If my clothes get dirty, I can wash them. That uncle was so anxious about his book—it’s only right to return it.”

Sensing her displeasure, Fang Ming quickly softened his tone.

“You’re right, you’re right. It’s my fault. I was just afraid he’d come too close and offend you, so I got too anxious.”

Wen Qinghe didn’t want to continue speaking to him. Noticing he hadn’t fetched a single bucket of water yet, she reminded him:

“Didn’t you say you came back to fetch water?”

Fang Ming glanced at the sky—damn! It was already noon. If he delayed any longer, it would affect the female educated youths preparing lunch.

“Alright, I’ll go right away!”

At that moment, Yao Min walked in with a bundle of firewood.

“Fang Ming, did you fetch the water? Oh, Comrade Wen! Are you feeling better?”

Though they all lived in the same courtyard, chances to see the little fairy were rare.

Because of her poor health, Wen Qinghe mostly stayed indoors, with Tang Zhiying bringing her meals.

In over a month since arriving in the countryside, he could count the times he’d seen her on one hand.

But seeing how every meal came with meat, and knowing her frail body seemed ready to collapse at a breeze, no one had ever raised complaints.

Wen Qinghe replied gently, “Mm, much better.”

Fang Ming’s heart wavered at their exchange. Judging by her tone, it wasn’t Yao Min she had mistaken him for earlier.

Then who was it?

Carrying the water buckets, his mind still turned over the faces of the other educated youths.

As he passed Yao Min, the latter grabbed him.
“You’ve been back for so long—why are you only going to fetch water now?”

Wen Qinghe, seeing this, left them to argue and went back inside.

Only when she disappeared into her room did Fang Ming shake Yao Min’s hand off, muttering:
“I wasn’t feeling well earlier. I’m going now.”

Yao Min frowned at his back.
“Didn’t you look fine just now? Really strange…”

…

Inside, Wen Qinghe had just taken out a tablet from her private space, planning to watch a movie, when the door was knocked.

The stealthy movements outside made her feel a bit guilty.

“Who is it?”

The knocking paused at her soft voice.

“It’s me.”

Hearing it was Yan Xiao, she quickly slipped the tablet under her pillow to keep it hidden, then went to open the door.

Yan Xiao glanced around the tiny room. Thinking of her hesitation just now, he placed the lunchbox in his hand on the cabinet and spoke warmly:

“I made braised wild duck with lotus root for you. Your condition is special. Doctor Li said if you can’t take the decoction, food therapy is a good substitute. For the next few months, I’ll prepare your meals.”

Wen Qinghe looked up at the man before her—his high, straight nose, well-defined features, and deep, fathomless eyes seemed as though they might swallow her whole.

“Why are you so good to me?”