Volume One, Chapter Eleven: Do You Like Him?

Several female educated youths were covered in mud, sweat pouring from their brows. In contrast, apart from some dirt on her legs and hands, Jiang Yingli looked immaculate; even her hair remained perfectly in place.

“A liar with no integrity!” The girl with pigtails bit her back teeth in frustration. Yesterday, Jiang Yingli had personally promised she’d apply to live in the cowshed and wouldn’t report anyone. Yet today, all of them had been assigned the filthiest, most exhausting tasks—while she got the easiest job!

She glanced around. No one else was nearby. Jiang Yingli pointed to herself. “Are you talking about me?”

“Ha, who else? You know exactly how you ended up with the easiest job,” scoffed Pigtails.

Jiang Yingli replied innocently, “Didn’t the brigade leader say I’m new and don’t know anything, so he assigned me to the terraced fields?”

The educated youths snorted. On their third day, they’d already followed the villagers to the fields to learn rice planting. Why should this bourgeois young lady be exempt? And she had the nerve to act so naive and harmless!

“Jiang Yingli, you’d better keep your head down. The brigade leader may be blinded by your pretty face, but we won’t be!” The squad leader threatened in a low voice.

Jiang Yingli wasn’t intimidated. “Do you like the brigade leader?”

Yuan Yanzhou, washing his feet by the stream behind the grove: ...

The squad leader’s dark face flushed instantly, refusing to admit it. “What nonsense are you spouting?”

“Then why are you so upset about him looking after me? Do you really see him as yours?”

Pigtails said, “One day, he’ll be with our squad leader! And you’ll be left crying in the cowshed!”

Really? Who’s crying? Her?

“Mm, mm, mm, whatever you say.”

Yuan Yanzhou couldn’t bear it any longer. He put on his shoes and climbed up the small slope. “What are you all talking about?”

Jiang Yingli met his gaze head-on, showing no sign of guilt at being caught. The squad leader, suddenly bashful, fiddled with her hem and shyly looked at him.

“Comrade Zhou, we’re discussing why this bourgeois miss gets the easiest job,” she said.

Yuan Yanzhou’s brow furrowed, his expression dark and stern, his gaze sharp. His tone was strict to the extreme.

“Kong Juan, you’re all educated youths of the brigade now. Comrade Jiang’s identity has been verified by the educated youth office! You must get along harmoniously!”

“If I hear any more talk of bourgeois, you’ll all be cleaning the public toilets!”

The pits in the public toilets were already full—someone would have to scoop out the matter to compost for fertilizer.

Kong Juan’s face turned pale as a sheet, her fingers trembling.

“Did you hear me clearly?” he demanded.

“Yes,” she answered, voice barely louder than a mosquito’s.

“Louder!” Yuan Yanzhou barked.

“We understand!” she replied, now with the force of a squad leader disciplining her troops.

His gaze swept over the other two female educated youths; they shuddered. “Got it!”

They grabbed the frozen Deng Juan and hurried away.

Jiang Yingli looked at Yuan Yanzhou, who looked back at her.

He smacked his lips, feeling a little parched. “Comrade Zhou, so why was I assigned to help Uncle Ding with the ox?”

“You live in the cowshed, so you’re best placed to bond with Xiaohua. Uncle Ding is getting old,” he answered, his tone returning to normal but carrying a softness even he didn’t notice.

Jiang Yingli made a sound of acknowledgment and turned to leave.

Now she understood—he wanted her to take over Uncle Ding’s duties.

Next time anyone asked, she’d answer just like that. After all, it was their brigade leader’s personal instruction; no matter how dissatisfied they were, it wouldn’t come back to her. And if they wanted to complain, they could come live in the cowshed and bond with Xiaohua themselves.

She glanced back at the man still standing there. She admitted she’d heard someone splashing in the stream and deliberately set a trap for Kong Juan, but she hadn’t expected it to be Zhou Mo himself.

Still, it had nothing to do with her—she wasn’t the one who should feel embarrassed.

Back in the cowshed, Xiaohua was having dinner—fresh wild grass, whose fragrance wafted from afar.

Jiang Yingli leaned on the railing, meeting Xiaohua’s gaze. The cow’s glossy black eyes watched her, chewing audibly.

“Why are you called Xiaohua? Who gave you that name?”

“Moo—” Xiaohua opened her mouth as if replying, releasing a scent that hit Jiang Yingli’s senses.

“All right, eat up,” she said, retreating inside, closing the gate, and retrieving her dinner—monster meat dumplings.

The dumplings, tender-skinned and filled with colorful monster meat, floated in a clear broth dotted with tiny pink shrimp, their aroma filling the air.

After a bowl of steaming dumplings, Jiang Yingli rested for an hour, practiced a set of Vajra exercises, then turned off the light and slipped into her space.

She had her fire-mutated little beast heat a large tub of water, then submerged herself, sighing with contentment.

After a day’s toil, nothing soothed fatigue like a hot bath.

Suddenly, her wrist hurt. She turned her head; the little beast was nudging her hand with its horn, making strange, gurgling noises.

Jiang Yingli ignored it, withdrawing her hand into the tub.

There was plenty to eat and play with in the space; it was just causing trouble for no reason.

Seeing it was ignored, the mutated beast aimed its sharp horn at the wooden tub, backed up, gathered strength, and plunged the horn straight in.

Hot water splashed over it, drenching its yellow fur, which clung tightly to its body, making it look as skinny as a bamboo pole.

Jiang Yingli leapt from the tub, dressed, grabbed its horn with one hand, dangling the beast in midair.

“What are you doing?”

“Gugu—” The mutated beast struggled with all four paws, its horn slipping from her grasp, thudding to the floor, and it zipped off toward the mountain of corpses.

“Causes trouble and runs away!” Seeing it vanish, Jiang Yingli could only clean up herself and return to sleep, determined to punish it thoroughly next time.

The three-eyed beast carried a pigeon over, only to find the space empty, not even a water stain left.

“Squeak?” It set the pigeon down, let out a gurgle, and curled up into a ball.

Outside, sporadic rain began to fall. Jiang Yingli’s eyes snapped open a second before lightning flashed.

The sudden white glare forced her to close her eyes, blotches of light dancing before her.

Boom—

Thunder seemed to strike right beside the cowshed; the grass mat beneath her shook.

Squinting, she opened her eyes. Rain as big as beans, swept by a biting northern wind, poured into her room, soaking the head of her bed, muddying the corners of the walls.

April’s weather was dominated by the plum rains; thunderstorms were rare.

A drop of rain hit her cheek, cold seeping deep into her bones.

She tilted her head back—more rain splashed her face. Resigned, Jiang Yingli got up, planning to find something to block the leaks.

Xiaohua was fast asleep in the corner, her own shed shielded from the wind by tall tree trunks.

So she was the only one getting drenched.

Annoyed, Jiang Yingli grabbed a handful of feed to plug the leaks, but the hay couldn’t block the gaps in the shed.

She was soaked, her clothes clinging to her like an ill-fitting skin.

Ignoring the discomfort, she rubbed her icy chin.

Maybe she should use beast hides to block the wind and rain—take them down in the morning?

Just then, a beam of light pierced the rain, accompanied by a muffled voice: “Comrade Jiang, I brought plastic sheeting. Use it to cover the gaps!”

Jiang Yingli stepped outside. The tall man, draped in a brown raincoat, trudged toward her, his steps uneven.

Lightning split the sky, stretching his shadow long and casting it over her.