She had originally been nothing more than a simple girl. Though spoiled by nature, her parents loved her dearly, and she even had a boyfriend who loved her… There was no way she could ever like the pervert standing in front of her.
She shoved him away and ran down the hillside, crying.
She was determined to tell her father—but when she reached the foot of the hill, she saw beads of fine sweat covering his forehead as he struggled with several village officials to unload sack after sack of rice from a three-wheeled truck.
His back was slightly hunched from the effort, and under the afternoon sun he looked exceptionally tired and worn.
Around them was a din of noise: villagers complaining about unfair distribution, children crying, the air thick with the smells of sweat and dust. As he worked, her father patiently tried to soothe the agitated villagers, his voice already hoarse.
If she told her father about those awful things—if word got out—the dignity he had worked so hard to maintain, the pride with which he ran around for the sake of the whole village, would collapse in an instant.
This was how people were: they would latch onto even the smallest scandal and never let go.
Ling Yue stood at the edge of the dirt road, her feet rooted to the ground.
The wind blew, and the dust it stirred made her eyes sting.
She watched the back of her father’s neck as he bent over, his collar soaked through with sweat. She watched a villager point at him and shout because he’d received one scoop less of rice. Her father only kept smiling apologetically, sweat filling the lines on his forehead as he explained again and again that the warehouse was truly empty, and that when the next batch arrived, he’d make sure that villager was given priority.
All the grievances that had risen to her lips were like a burning coal lodged in her throat—she couldn’t swallow them, and she couldn’t spit them out either.
She couldn’t say anything.
It wasn’t just about her father’s reputation. Once there was even the slightest rumor, in a place this small—where gossip could drown a person—what would it turn into?
Jiang Muchen was standing right behind her.
He made no sound at all. Ling Yue could even feel the shadow he cast, completely enveloping her.
He simply stood there, his gaze heavy as it fell on Ling Yue’s slightly trembling back. He saw her wipe away her tears—yet she only turned around and shoved him hard.
“You bastard!”
She cursed him, her small face flushed red with rage.
Jiang Muchen said nothing, only staring at her with infatuation—if that twisted, perverse, and sated look of his could even be called “infatuation.”
Then she ran into one of the makeshift tents, not even leaving him a glimpse of her retreating figure.
Jiang Muchen raised his hand and unhurriedly smoothed the front of his clothes where Ling Yue had shoved him earlier. His fingertips seemed to still feel the force of her trembling.
She hadn’t told her father that he had bullied her.
That realization shot through his limbs like a scorching electric current.
Could it be that she liked him too, just a little?
The question circled in Jiang Muchen’s mind. The corners of his mouth lifted uncontrollably into the faintest smile, as an absurd sense of happiness quietly took root and wrapped itself around his heart.
“She’s protecting me…” Jiang Muchen almost sighed at the thought.
So she really does like me a little, after all…
Amid the chaos and constant complaints, he began to savor that moment on the hillside again—the feel of her skin, the faint fragrance at her neck, her eyes widened in shock and filled with tears…
He felt himself liking her more and more.
Wanting to marry her, wanting to have children with her, wanting to… wanting to stain her.