Lin Peiru couldn’t possibly not understand.
She understood all too well.
In her previous life, after her divorce, she had done every kind of dirty and exhausting job imaginable—washing dishes in restaurants, carrying bricks at construction sites, working through wind and rain. All her once-delicate softness had long been worn away.
The hardships she had never experienced before marriage were later doubled and forced upon her by fate.
Compared to that, this level of farm work was really nothing at all.
The other educated youths in the courtyard, seeing her innocent and bright demeanor and comparing it to her sharp, almost aggressive words earlier, were somewhat stunned.
The dissatisfaction they had felt earlier about her “siding with outsiders” quietly faded.
To them, she now looked like a girl who had been overly protected by her family—naive and clueless.
She had just arrived in this unfamiliar place, and because the Huo family had treated her kindly and taken her in, she subconsciously treated them as good people, which was why she defended Huo Yunshen.
They thought that once she had lived here for a while, experienced the hardship of farm work, and seen enough of Huo Yunshen’s coldness and the villagers’ exclusion, she would naturally understand who her “own people” really were.
After all, they themselves knew that the Huo family’s younger daughter, Huo Yunqiao, though timid and quiet, wasn’t a bad person.
As for the rumored mistress of the house—Huo Yunshen’s mother—because she had been bedridden for years, the newly arrived educated youths had barely seen her.
Their impression of the Huo family mostly came from the silent, thorny, and cold Huo Yunshen.
As the female team leader, Wang Wenqing didn’t want the conflict to escalate further, so she walked over to Lin Peiru to take her to work.
“Comrade Lin, let’s go. If we’re late, we won’t earn our work points.”
“Alright,” Lin Peiru agreed readily, but didn’t move immediately.
She turned her head again, and those clear eyes landed once more on Yang Mingfeng.
The corners of her lips carried that faint, ambiguous smile again, but her tone was light—like a feather brushing across the heart, teasing and unsettling.
“Comrade Yang,” she called softly. “My memory isn’t very good, but my mind is still quite sharp.”
“I suggest you take this time to properly think about what exactly you said to ‘praise’ Huo Yunshen two years ago.”
“Otherwise…”
She paused.
She didn’t finish the sentence, but the meaning in her eyes was even more chilling than words.
The other educated youths’ gazes instantly shot back to Yang Mingfeng.
Those looks pinned him in place like spotlights, leaving him nowhere to hide.
Yang Mingfeng’s face instantly turned a sickly green.
A mix of anger and panic twisted inside him like countless insects gnawing at his organs.
Think?
Of course he remembered.
How could he forget?
That day, he had been drinking. Feeling emboldened by his height and his status as a city youth, he had never taken that skinny rural boy seriously.
In front of everyone, with a lewd and mocking tone, he had said:
“Oh, isn’t this the Huo kid? Looking pretty fine—more delicate than the girls in our team. That waist, that face… tsk tsk…”
He had meant to humiliate Huo Yunshen, to see him blush in anger but unable to respond.
But who would have thought that the seemingly thin teenager’s gaze would be so cold, so fierce—like an enraged wolf cub.
Without a word, he had thrown a punch.
Those words, those filthy intentions—could Yang Mingfeng say them out loud?
He couldn’t.
If he said them in front of this new female educated youth, how would he ever stay in the group again?
He would be branded a filthy pervert by everyone.
Grinding his teeth so hard his gums nearly bled, Yang Mingfeng glared at her furiously—but couldn’t say a single word in rebuttal.
He could only watch helplessly as Lin Peiru raised an eyebrow, then turned around gracefully and walked out of the courtyard with Wang Wenqing, her steps clean and decisive.
The wind in the courtyard seemed to freeze with her departure.
Yang Mingfeng remained frozen in place, his face still shifting between green and pale, like a badly mixed paint palette.
Zhou Bin coughed lightly.
“Alright, alright, everyone get ready for work!”
…
Meanwhile, Lin Peiru followed Wang Wenqing to find the production team leader.
The team leader looked her up and down, already aware she was new, and couldn’t help twitching his mouth.
Such a delicate-looking girl… what work could she possibly do?
After thinking for a moment, he assigned her a relatively easy task.
“Alright, Comrade Lin, today just go to the cornfield at the east end of the village and pick four rows of corn.”
“Got it!” Lin Peiru answered crisply.
Wang Wenqing led her toward the cornfield.
The late summer sun was already fierce, burning hot against the skin.
Wang Wenqing glanced back at her.
“Comrade Lin, you really surprised me earlier.”
“I didn’t expect you to be so bold, forcing Yang Mingfeng into that situation in front of everyone.”
Lin Peiru smiled, strands of hair blown across her forehead.
“I just don’t like being treated like a fool.”
“If you don’t strip certain people of their pride, they’ll never learn what pain is.”
Wang Wenqing looked at her bright, striking face and momentarily lost focus.
This new educated youth looked delicate and fragile, like a porcelain doll—but her personality was sharp, like a rose with thorns.
“You’re right,” Wang Wenqing said with a wry smile.
“Just be careful. Yang Mingfeng is petty and holds grudges.”
“I will. Thank you for the reminder,” Lin Peiru replied.
But she didn’t take it too seriously.
Soon they arrived at the cornfield.
Endless rows of corn stalks stretched out like a green sea. A gust of wind rustled the leaves, sending waves of heat rolling toward them.
Hot. Stuffy. Oppressive.
Like a giant steamer.
Lin Peiru took a deep breath, and that stubborn spirit rose again inside her.
She was going to be a modern woman—how could she be defeated by this?
“Leader Wang, let’s start!”
She rolled up her sleeves, revealing arms as white as jade, full of determination.
Wang Wenqing looked at her, amused and impressed.
“Alright, let’s begin!”
Picking corn required both strength and skill.
You had to grip the cob, twist downward with force, and with a crisp “crack,” it would come off.
Lin Peiru followed the others and plunged into the cornfield.
At first, everything felt fresh and new.
But after a while, problems began to appear.
After all, this body had been pampered for eighteen years.
Less than half an hour in, her arms were sore and her waist ached.
Sweat ran down her cheeks, soaking her collar, sticking uncomfortably to her skin.
And worse—once her initial enthusiasm faded, the pain in her palms became clearer and sharper.
She opened her hand and saw several shiny blisters forming in her soft palm.
Painful. Itchy.
Lin Peiru gritted her teeth and said nothing, continuing to work.
She couldn’t afford to fall behind on her very first day.
She couldn’t let anyone look down on her.