After walking a while, the girl who had delivered pears yesterday stood at the crossroads, glaring at Lan Xingyu. As she approached, the girl said, “Lan Zhiqing, how am I ugly? I’m Li Taohua, as pretty as a peach blossom, and you said I was ugly!”
Lan Xingyu gave her a glance. She was fair and pretty, but Lan Xingyu said coolly, “A vendor praising her own melon—self-praise. In my eyes, you’re like an ugly duckling.”
“Ugly duckling?”
Li Taohua’s eyes welled with tears. “Lan Zhiqing, I don’t like you anymore!”
Lan Xingyu snorted coldly—exactly what she wanted: for the girl to dislike her!
Li Taohua glared at the lean back and cried, furious. Damn little master!
Lan Xingyu stopped, lit a cigarette. Everyone seeing her smoke would think she was even more masculine.
The act of smoking was cold and stylish—she looked completely like a guy. No one would suspect she was a woman.
Back at the dorm, Zhang Weiping had prepared her bathwater. She entered her space to wash and change, then administered Zhou Daju’s infusion.
After finishing, she hung her clothes under the eaves and lay back on her bed.
A moment later, she heard the male lead’s voice: “Lan Zhiqing, could you open the curtain?”
She did, and Huo Nanting held out a handful of small fruits. “These are small sweet potatoes I picked along the field ridge. Try them—they’re sweet.”
His eyes burned as he stared at her. After struggling all afternoon, he wanted to bend the little master—this was the first time he liked someone, and he couldn’t just pull away!
The bright little fruits looked fragrant and sweet. Lan Xingyu had never eaten or seen them before, but she was tempted.
She opened a small box, handed him 50 cents, then spread a sheet of paper on the bed, signaling him to place the fruits there.
Huo Nanting curved his lips slightly, placed the sweet potatoes on the paper, and took the money. “These are worth five cents each. I’ll give you forty-five cents and bring them right over.”
The little master was picky—she wouldn’t eat without paying.
“Whatever.”
Lan Xingyu popped a small sweet potato in her mouth. It was soft, glutinous, and sweet—she liked it.
She popped another in, nibbling slowly.
Huo Nanting watched her eat, clearly pleased. The corners of his lips lifted. Seeing her pink lips made his eyes darken—he wanted to kiss, to taste.
But the little master took the money and drew the curtain, hiding from his view. He wanted to call her “little master.”
“I want to be good to you.”
Saying that, he strode back to his bed, watching the opposite side.
Lan Xingyu paused briefly, then opened her mouth and continued eating the sweet potatoes, no longer flaring like she did in the morning.
Since she couldn’t escape the plot, she’d take it one step at a time. She wouldn’t die; she was a young woman in the bloom of youth, with plenty of time to enjoy life.
Seeing her silent, Huo Nanting relaxed slightly. He lit a cigarette, glancing at the bed. Little master, one day I’ll bend you! Make you mine!
His heart warmed slightly.
“Lan Zhiqing, after eating, want to go up the mountain to catch wild rabbits? Want to see how to trap them?”
“No.”
Huo Nanting’s eyes dimmed. He was trying to find something she’d be interested in—to build a common interest, a chance to bend her.
He thought: in the countryside, it’s just climbing mountains to hunt birds, descending to catch fish—nothing else.
“There’s also a type of sour-sweet fruit I’ll pick for you later on the mountain.”
“I’ll pay.”
The sweet potatoes were delicious, and the sour fruit was worth trying.
“Fine.”
“How old are you this year?”
“20.”
“How often do you… come in a month?”
Lan Xingyu froze. Come? Then her eyes flicked—she knew what he meant. This male lead was completely shameless, asking how often she “came.”
Seeing her silence, Huo Nanting rambled: “Before, once or twice a month. Now, maybe seven or eight times—thinking about it, stronger each time.”
The little master was willing to talk, so he led with manly topics.
If Lan Xingyu weren’t a medical student, she’d be completely shocked.
“Don’t you want to? Can’t in the room—let’s go to the mountain, wind blowing, leaning on a rock… feels amazing.”
“Shut up!”
She couldn’t stand it.
“I’m afraid you’ll get frustrated!”
Lan Xingyu pressed her lips tight. Male peers seemed to think hands were necessary for that, but she didn’t!
“From now on, don’t speak to me a word!” She gave him a taste of his own medicine!
Huo Nanting’s heart sank. The little master was angry. Today was done!
He leaned against the headboard, smoking, eyes slightly dazed. His smooth face had sharp angles, long lashes shadowing deep eyes, a high nose, perfect lips—a cold, noble, dominant beauty.
Yet this man, one who made women want him, was thinking of another man—imagining those red marks on her pale chest.
“Time to eat.”
The inappropriate thoughts in his head were knocked away. Huo Nanting’s gaze cleared.
“Lan Zhiqing…”
Zhang Weiping pointed at his crotch—so thick in broad daylight.
“Go get the dishes; I’ll be ready soon.”
Huo Nanting was slightly embarrassed. He got up, sat on a stool, leaving the bed of desire.
Zhang Weiping chuckled on his way out to the kitchen.
When the meal was served, Huo Nanting put some green beans in Lan Xingyu’s bowl, whispering, “Eat more. Tomorrow I’ll cook—you’ll have rabbit meat.”
Lan Xingyu frowned at the beans. “I’ll pay one yuan. Also, your chopsticks have saliva—I refuse. I’m a man; I can serve myself!”
She slid the beans back onto the table and said coldly, “Stay away. I reject your kindness!”
Huo Nanting’s jaw tightened—he’d been too hasty, should proceed slowly.
They ate in silence. When Zhang Weiping returned with more food, Lan Xingyu went out for a post-meal smoke again.
Zhang Weiping sat, serving himself, saying, “The confinement room is unbearable. Mosquitoes swarm—peppermint didn’t help. Later, we gave them bamboo sticks and Wang Jinshu; slapping them around helped a bit.”
“Better not make mistakes. That place is hell for humans.”
Tang Zhirou and the others had nearly gone crazy from the mosquitoes. Zhao Jiani, thinking of five days inside, cried: “Tang Zhīqīng, five yuan per prank on Jiang Wanwan, or I won’t do it!”
She’d already been compensated 40 yuan; Tang Zhirou added 20 more for emotional damage.
Now Zhao Jiani wanted to raise the price. Tang Zhirou wasn’t angry—being locked up was suffering; asking for more seemed reasonable. But she couldn’t let Zhao Jiani push too far; haggling was necessary.
“Three yuan.”
“Five!”
“If you won’t do it, I’ll find someone else!”
Zhao Jiani slapped a mosquito, glaring. “Go ahead, I quit!”
Tang Zhirou’s face darkened. “Fine, you’re stubborn. Five it is!”
Zhao Jiani snorted. “That’s more like it!”
The four couldn’t sleep at night, only resting during the day.
Their rooms were adjacent, and they occasionally shouted at each other. The cowshed was far enough that no one else heard.
Zhao Jiani told Tang Zhirou, “Half an hour of yelling—five yuan?”
“Yell!”
Tang Zhirou had plenty of money. Before coming to the countryside, she sold gold on the black market. Her father gave her over 500 yuan, plus she had over 1,000 yuan—enough to spend for a long time.
Zhao Jiani swatted mosquitoes while cursing Jiang Wanwan, who cried in frustration. Tang Zhirou, seeing Su Mengyao, said, “Su Zhīqīng, think of another way. I want that wretch to suffer!”
Su Mengyao said coldly, “Fine. Another 100 yuan.”
“What!”
A hundred yuan was supposed to be a long-term bribe—why was she asking for more now?