Meng Jiao ignored them and quietly moved to another spot.
Later, when she went to cut pigweed, she clearly saw a patch of lush growth.
But when she approached, she discovered that someone had haphazardly chopped down a large section and scattered it everywhere—clearly intentional sabotage.
Xiao Cao quietly informed her that she had seen Sun Xiaofeng and her friends passing by earlier.
Even worse, one time when Meng Jiao and Xiao Cao went to submit their pigweed, the work-point recorder frowned.
“Meng Jiao, why is there so much mixed weed in your pigweed? This won’t do—I’ll have to deduct Work points.”
Looking down, Meng Jiao saw that numerous inedible wild grasses had somehow found their way into her neatly packed basket.
She looked up just in time to see Sun Xiaofeng standing not far away, smugly tilting her chin upward.
Xiao Cao stomped her foot in anger: “It must be Sun Xiaofeng’s doing! This is too much!”
Meng Jiao held back the impulsive girl and calmly told the recorder, “Uncle, I’m sorry. I must have been careless. It won’t happen again.”
It wasn’t that she wasn’t angry, but she knew that confronting a spoiled girl like Sun Xiaofeng head-on would only bring more trouble and make things difficult for Meng Jianhua.
But she had underestimated Sun Xiaofeng’s stubbornness and malice.
That afternoon, Meng Jiao went alone to the back hill, hoping to find some new herbal medicine.
While crouching to carefully examine a plant, she was suddenly shoved hard from behind.
With a startled cry, Meng Jiao fell forward uncontrollably, her palms and knees scraping painfully against the rough ground.
Turning around, she saw Sun Xiaofeng standing with two other girls, arms akimbo, watching her triumphantly.
“Hmph! Think you’re so great? What’s so special about being from the city?!”
Sun Xiaofeng spat: “How dare you have that lunatic Gu Yan scare me! Let’s see who’ll help you now!”
Meng Jiao tried to push herself up, but her knees hurt too much to support her.
Seeing Sun Xiaofeng’s face twisted with jealousy, anger surged within her.
She didn’t want trouble, but when confronted, she would never back down!
“Sun Xiaofeng, what else can you do besides these petty tricks?”
Meng Jiao endured the pain, staring coldly at her.
“If you have any guts, confront me properly. Pushing someone from behind—what kind of skill is that?”
“So what if I pushed you?!” Enraged, Sun Xiaofeng stepped forward to attack again.
Just then, an icy voice cut through the air.
“Try touching her again.”
The voice wasn’t particularly loud, but it carried a menacing quality that chilled one to the bone.
Sun Xiaofeng and her two lackeys trembled and whirled around.
They saw Gu Yan standing a few steps away, holding a withered branch as thick as a wrist.
His eyes were dark and sunken, like frozen deep pools, fixed intently on Sun Xiaofeng.
His disheveled bangs and slightly heaving chest suggested he had been running.
Gu Yan advanced step by step, his posture making it clear that if Sun Xiaofeng dared lay another finger on Meng Jiao, the branch in his hand would come down without mercy.
“Gu… Gu Yan… what… what do you want?!”
Sun Xiaofeng’s voice trembled with fear as she retreated hastily.
She hadn’t forgotten how much her wrist had hurt last time he grabbed it.
“Get lost.”
Gu Yan gritted out the single word through clenched teeth.
Sun Xiaofeng stared at his life-risking demeanor and didn’t dare linger any longer. With a shriek, she fled with her two equally pale-faced lackeys, scrambling away in a panic.
The surroundings instantly fell silent.
Gu Yan tossed aside the stick in his hand and quickly walked over to Meng Jiao, crouching down beside her.
His brows furrowed tightly as he looked at her scraped palms and knees, which were oozing blood. His lips pressed into a thin line.
“I… I’m fine.”
Meng Jiao tried to stand up on her own but couldn’t suppress a sharp hiss of pain.
Gu Yan didn’t speak, merely reaching out to carefully support her arm, helping her steady herself.
His movements were somewhat clumsy, even stiff, but his grip was firm.
Leaning on his strength to stand, Meng Jiao gazed at his profile—his lowered lashes and tightly pressed lips—and felt an unfamiliar sensation stir within her.
“Thank you, Gu Yan,” Meng Jiao said softly. “You’ve helped me again.”
Gu Yan glanced up at her briefly, but upon meeting her smiling eyes, he averted his gaze as if scalded, the tips of his ears quietly turning red.
He released her arm and fumbled in the pocket of his faded old coat, pulling out a relatively clean handkerchief. He handed it to Meng Jiao, gesturing for her to wipe her hands.
Meng Jiao was taken aback for a moment before accepting the handkerchief, still warm from his body heat and carrying a faint scent of soap. Something seemed to gently bump against her heart.
This taciturn, thorny youth had given her the best care he could muster in his own clumsy yet sincere way.
Sun Xiaofeng and her two lackeys had fled in such a panic, faster than a rabbit’s father, vanishing in the blink of an eye.
At the foot of the mountain, only Meng Jiao and Gu Yan remained.
The wind rustled through the leaves, creating a soft, whispering sound.
Meng Jiao tried moving her knee and immediately sucked in a sharp breath. Her palms burned, and the scraped areas were still caked with dirt and small stones—a pitiful sight.
Gu Yan stood beside her, his brows furrowed so deeply they could crush a fly.
Watching Meng Jiao grimace in pain, an inexplicable anger surged within him, more unbearable than if he had been the one hurt.
His lips twitched as if he wanted to say something, but he held back, remaining his usual self, though his actions were exceedingly careful.
The youth reached out again, this time not to support her arm but bending slightly to offer his forearm for her to lean on.
“Can you walk?”
His voice was still a bit dry, but not as cold as before.
Meng Jiao, who had been inwardly cursing Sun Xiaofeng, looked up at his question and forced a strained smile.
“Probably… I can?”
She tried shifting her weight onto her uninjured leg, hobbling forward a step.
The moment her injured knee bent, a piercing pain shot through her, and she wobbled, nearly falling again.
“Ah!”
Just as she thought she was about to make another intimate acquaintance with the ground, an arm shot out and steadied her by the waist.
The youth was somewhat slender, but his arm was firm and strong.
Gu Yan’s body stiffened instantly. His hand on Meng Jiao’s waist felt as if it had been electrocuted—he didn’t know whether to pull it back or leave it there.
The tips of his ears reddened at a visible pace, practically smoking!
He quickly withdrew his hand, his gaze darting elsewhere. His Adam’s apple bobbed, and his voice grew even stiffer. “I… I’ll carry you on my back.”
After saying this, he didn’t wait for Meng Jiao’s agreement, directly turned around and crouched in front of her, leaving his not particularly broad but seemingly strong back to her.
Meng Jiao stared at his back, frozen in place.
This… how could she possibly accept this?