Que Hongjin watched Qiao Suluo from under the tree, unable to imagine how someone as plump as her had managed to climb it and move so nimbly to pick black locust flowers. Had he not seen it with his own eyes, he wouldn’t have believed it.
Que Hongjin gently pinched the bridge of his nose with his long, elegant fingers, seemingly a bit helpless and nursing a slight headache. After watching for a while and confirming that she knew what she was doing and was perfectly fine, the anxiety in his heart slowly settled.
Yet, at this moment, he also saw a vibrant sense of vitality radiating from her, so strong it felt contagious. His heart stirred slightly. A fine, brilliant light rippled in his gentle, picturesque eyes, and his entire being exuded a tranquil, peaceful aura, like spring rain falling on apricot blossoms.
Bai Qianluo stood quietly to the side, completely silent, resembling an elegant and stunning ink wash painting.
Once she had stripped the tree of its black locust flowers, Qiao Suluo looked at the pile on the ground and said, "These should be enough."
With that, she began her descent. Just as she was nearing the bottom, Que Hongjin stepped forward, extending his fair, jade-white wrist to support her. "Slow down, wife. Be careful," he said softly.
Qiao Suluo paused, taken aback by his gesture. Didn’t they despise her and refuse to come near her? Why was he voluntarily reaching out to help her now?
Perhaps because she was distracted, her foot slipped. Losing her balance, she plummeted downward.
"Ah!"
The expected impact with the hard ground never came. When she opened her eyes, she realized she had crashed right on top of Que Hongjin.
At such close proximity, she had a clear view of his breathtaking face. He was gentle and picturesque, elegant and refined. His skin was flawlessly white and delicate, like pristine moonlight reflecting on water, possessing an innate, ethereal beauty. Qiao Suluo was so stunned by the gorgeous sight before her that she forgot to react, completely oblivious to the fact that she was currently very plump and heavy.
Crushed beneath her weight, Que Hongjin’s normally gentle face flushed red from holding his breath. "Wife, could you please get up first?"
"Oh, right, I... I’m sorry..."
Snapping back to reality, she felt incredibly embarrassed. The male beastmen of the Beast World Continent were simply too gorgeous. They looked so surreal, like figures stepping out of a painting. It was a level of beauty she had never seen before, causing her to freeze on instinct. But she didn’t mean anything by it; she was purely admiring his good looks.
In her haste to get up, Qiao Suluo scrambled clumsily. Due to her considerable weight, she ended up accidentally kicking him somewhere. Que Hongjin let out a muffled groan, the color draining from his face.
Seeing his reaction, she was painfully reminded of her current size, vastly different from her modern figure. "I-I’m so sorry, I really didn’t mean to do that just now! Did I kick you somewhere?"
As she spoke, her hands instinctively reached out to soothe the spot.
Que Hongjin’s eyelashes fluttered violently. A rippling light flashed in his picturesque, profoundly dark eyes as he stared fixedly at her, looking as if he could swallow her soul whole.
Just as her hands were about to land, Bai Qianluo reached out and caught her. His movements seemed gentle, but his grip held a firm strength that pulled her up onto her feet. "Are you alright, wife?"
"I’m fine. Que Hongjin is the one who’s hurt." Qiao Suluo felt a twinge of self-blame and guilt.
Que Hongjin stood up, his face still looking rather pale. He straightened his disheveled clothes, instantly restoring his elegant and composed demeanor, his gaze returning to its usual serene gentleness.
"I really didn’t mean to," she reiterated.
Observing Qiao Suluo’s expression and reaction, Que Hongjin’s brow twitched as a hint of amused intrigue touched his eyes. His voice carried a slightly bewitching tone as he said, "It was my fault. I was too weak to catch my wife. If you wish, perhaps next time, when my body has recovered a bit, I will be able to do it."
As he spoke, his gentle eyes curved into a beautiful arc, taking on a profound, thought-provoking hue.
Hearing this, Qiao Suluo snapped her head up, meeting his half-smiling gaze. Suddenly, she didn’t know what to say.
She realized he seemed to have misunderstood, thinking she had fallen on purpose just to get intimate with him. She wanted to explain, to tell him that wasn’t the case, but considering all the terrible things the original owner of this body had done, explaining would probably be useless.
So, she awkwardly forced a smile and tried her best to add, "I really didn’t do it on purpose, and I will lose weight and slim down. Let’s pack up the black locust flowers first. We need to head home for lunch soon."
She pulled out a sack. With Que Hongjin and Bai Qianluo helping to stuff the flowers inside, the three of them finally headed back.
By the time they arrived home, it wasn’t even noon yet. Looking up at the sun, she estimated it to be around ten-thirty in the morning in modern time.
She first soaked the wheat she had bought in water. Soaking it overnight would allow it to sprout over the next few days, perfect for making malt sugar. Then, she soaked the soybeans; once they were ready, she could grind them to make tofu.
Watching Qiao Suluo bustle about the moment they returned, Que Hongjin approached her and offered, "Wife, how about I start making the plush dolls now?"
She had her own rhythm for cooking, and he couldn’t find a way to assist her for the time being.
Qiao Suluo nodded. "Alright. I’ll teach you how to do it first. It’s actually very simple; you just need to follow the patterns I’ve made."
She led him into her room and personally demonstrated how to cut and piece the fabric together.
Watching Qiao Suluo work so earnestly, giving off such a pure and beautiful feeling, Que Hongjin found himself slightly dazed. This version of her had a truly compelling presence, radiating an inner charm that made one almost completely overlook her physical appearance.
"This is how you do it. If there’s anything you don’t understand, I can go over it again. If you find it too troublesome, that’s fine too—I can do it myself," she said. Once she finished her chores, she could easily make the dolls at night by the light of an oil lamp.
"It’s not troublesome," Que Hongjin replied warmly.
With that, he personally measured and cut the fabric, then threaded a needle and began sewing the doll.
Seated in the chair and engrossed in his task, clad in green robes, he looked like a pristine jade tree. Whether sitting or standing, he exuded an inherent sense of dignified elegance etched deep into his bones. As his slender, elegant fingers stitched the fabric, sunlight filtered through the lattice window and cascaded over him, bathing him in a luminous glow. He appeared serene and unearthly, like a modest gentleman possessing an immaculate exterior and a pure, noble heart.
The sight of such a gorgeous man doing needlework was truly mind-boggling.
After sewing for a while, Que Hongjin held it up for her to inspect. "Wife, look, is this okay? If there’s anything wrong with it, I’ll fix it."
Snapping out of her trance, Qiao Suluo shook her head. "No, you did a great job."
The stitching was actually even finer and tighter than hers. She thought she had done a pretty good job, but his work was significantly better. She couldn’t help but recall some of the original owner’s memories.
This former heir of the Peacock Family used to be highly renowned in the Capital City. He was reportedly a master of the zither, chess, calligraphy, and painting, possessing top-tier abilities, bearing, intellect, and upbringing.
Unfortunately, during a mysterious family trial, his wings were broken. He suffered grievous injuries and fell deathly ill. The Peacock Family managed to save his life with medicine, but because he could no longer fly or use the family’s abilities, he was discarded as a pawn and treated as trash.
He had never spoken of what happened back then, but Qiao Suluo couldn’t shake the feeling that the severing of his wings wasn’t as simple as it seemed. She couldn’t help but indulge in conspiracy theories, having watched far too many family drama shows in the modern world. If he had remained in good health, he wouldn’t have been married off to her as a means to humiliate him.
Sensing her silence, Que Hongjin slowly turned to look at her, instantly catching the look of pity and regret in her eyes. His expression shifted slightly as he asked softly, "What are you thinking about, wife?"