Lin Suier’s foot injury dragged on; it took more than half a month before she could barely walk on it. Even then, if she stood too long, a dull pain would creep in, and she couldn’t put her full weight on it.
During those two weeks, her mother-in-law Zhou Shi never stopped nagging. All day long she made snide, indirect remarks—either complaining that Lin Suier was delaying the work or accusing her of putting on airs.
Her husband didn’t join in the scolding, but his indifference was colder than any insult.
Ever since that night, he hadn’t asked a single question about her—let alone checked her injury.
He read when it was time to read, ate when it was time to eat.
Sometimes, staring at the pitch-dark ceiling, Lin Suier felt like a wandering ghost.
If not for Xiaocao, she feared she wouldn’t even leave a trace in this household.
Fortunately, the things Jiang Liao had brought helped.
With the crutch, she could manage some chores and avoid a good deal of her mother-in-law’s sharp-tongued scolding.
At times like that, she couldn’t help recalling that noon—the way Jiang Liao had stiffly shoved the items into her hands.
And the unsettling presence he carried when he stood close…
That afternoon, the sun had begun to tilt westward, no longer as scorching.
Lin Suier looked at the pile of dirty clothes in the basin.
For the past half month, she had been washing them every few days in batches. Her mother-in-law pretended not to see, ignoring it completely.
She couldn’t delay any longer—if she did, the scolding would be enough to lift the roof.
Struggling, Lin Suier lifted the wooden basin and made her way slowly toward the small river at the edge of the village, pausing with every step.
Along the way, she greeted a few familiar village women.
Once she had gone far enough, their murmurs bubbled up like water hitting hot oil.
“Did you see that? Suier’s foot isn’t even healed yet, and she’s carrying such a big basin of laundry! What a hard life…”
“Exactly! That old Zhou woman must have accumulated eight lifetimes of blessings to get such a hardworking, tolerant daughter-in-law to torment! And even then, she’s always smashing things and wearing a sour face!”
“Bah! And she still puts on airs? Back when her son passed the county exam, she strutted around like she owned the place! And now? Chen Wenqi’s failed twice in a row, nearly emptied the family savings, and still clings to those useless books like they’re sacred—what’s the point?”
“Right, right! I just feel sorry for Suier. She’s pretty and gentle, yet ended up falling into such a pit of fire…”
By the river, Lin Suier set down the basin, rolled up her sleeves, picked up the wooden beater, and began washing.
Her right foot still felt weak when she squatted, so she had to shift most of her weight onto her left leg, making her movements slower than usual.
She had only washed two pieces when rustling footsteps came from behind the willow trees.
She didn’t think much of it, assuming it was another woman arriving late.
Until a tall shadow suddenly fell over her, blocking the sunlight completely.
Her heart skipped. She instinctively looked up.
Against the light, she first saw broad shoulders and a solid chest, then a sharply defined jawline.
Damp strands of hair clung messily to his brow.
Jiang Liao.
He carried a wooden fork over his shoulder, with three or four palm-sized crucian carp strung behind it—he had clearly just come back from fishing.
Jiang Liao hadn’t expected to run into Lin Suier here either. He stopped in his tracks.
His gaze settled on her, then flicked to the laundry at her feet.
His thick brows immediately knitted into a frown.
Over the past half month, he’d heard bits and pieces of gossip—mostly about Zhou Shi’s harshness and Chen Wenqi’s uselessness.
Each time he heard it, a nameless fire burned a little stronger in his chest, leaving him restless, yet with no outlet.
After delivering the plaster and crutch, he hadn’t stepped near the Chen household again.
Afraid he wouldn’t be able to control his eyes—or his feet.
And yet now, she had walked right into his path.
What a damned coincidence…
The riverside was quiet, save for the rushing water and distant voices.
Flustered, Lin Suier quickly lowered her head, forgetting to swing the beater. Her heart pounded wildly in her chest.
Why did she run into him again!
Jiang Liao said nothing. He simply stood there, looking down at the small woman crouched by the stone.
Below her rolled-up sleeves, her forearms were dazzlingly pale, smooth like freshly peeled eggs under the shimmering reflection of the water.
Her soaked coarse clothes clung to her back, outlining that narrow waist and the fuller curves beneath…
The soft contours pressed against the stone, slightly distorted.
Jiang Liao’s breathing deepened unconsciously, his throat dry.
Forcing himself to look away, he spoke in a rough tone.
“Your foot just got a little better, and you’re already doing this? Are Chen Wenqi and Zhou Shi missing their hands or crippled?”
His blunt words made Lin Suier’s face pale. She tightened her grip on the beater and said softly, “The clothes have piled up for days… If I don’t wash them, there’s nothing to change into.”
“Then let them go naked for all I care!”
Jiang Liao’s voice carried suppressed anger. He slammed the wooden fork onto the muddy ground beside him with a dull thud.
The sound made Lin Suier flinch.
He strode to the river, splashing cool water over his face and arms.
Droplets rolled down his bronze skin and along the lines of his tense muscles.
Then he turned and walked straight toward her, crouching down beside her.
“Move over.”
Lin Suier froze, looking up at his face so close to hers, at a loss.
“Brother Jiang…?”
He ignored her, reaching straight into the basin to grab a piece of clothing.
With rough movements, he pressed it onto the stone, snatched the beater from her hand, and began pounding it forcefully.
Bang! Bang! Bang!
The heavy, rhythmic blows echoed by the river, water splashing everywhere.
Jiang Liao’s strength was immense—each strike was hard and precise. It looked less like washing clothes and more like he was venting something.
The muscles in his arms bulged with each motion, full of power. Sweat quickly formed at his temples, trailing down his neck into his open collar.
Lin Suier stared, stunned, her face flushing red and pale in turns.
A man—especially a man like Jiang Liao—washing her clothes…
How could this be acceptable!
If word got out, she wouldn’t be able to face anyone again!
“Brother Jiang! No—don’t do this! I can wash them myself! Please stop!”