Fu Yunqing glanced at the sky outside. Could he still leave in time?
“Boom~”
A muffled thunder rolled across the sky. Fu Yunqing instinctively gritted his teeth.
“Hurry and eat, it’s going to rain. After eating, there will probably be more work,”
Pei Luo, having lived here for some time, was accustomed to the household setup. The first time she saw it, she had been even more shocked than Fu Yunqing, but she adapted quickly. In a few days, she planned to replace some of these items in the town.
“Handsome Uncle, eat quickly! Mom’s cooking is delicious,”
Xiao Man tugged at his sleeve, staring eagerly at the bowl of plain porridge and the plate of stir-fried vegetables with meat, her mouth watering.
Fu Yunqing felt oddly pleased by the nickname. Holding his injuries, he coughed lightly and, with some effort, sat on the small wooden brick seat. It was tiny, barely palm-sized, and sitting down took a bit of balance—if unprepared, he might have fallen off.
Enduring the pain from his injuries, he adjusted his posture and finally settled. Honestly, if it weren’t for the bandits at Jiutou Mountain, he might never have had this experience in his life. In a way, he felt grateful to those bandits—once he returned, he would petition immediately to eliminate them. Not personally beheading the bandit leader would be a disservice to what he endured.
Fu Yunqing stared at the long and short chopsticks, unsure where to start. Pei Luo seemed to notice his hesitation and smiled.
“Don’t mind that the bowls and chopsticks are a bit… incomplete. I’ve washed them many times—they’re absolutely clean.”
He looked up at her, seeing her warm smile, and found it unexpectedly endearing. Nodding, he lifted the bowl of porridge and took a sip. Perhaps due to hunger and injury, the plain porridge tasted exceptionally good. He took another large sip, savoring the subtle fragrance and slight sweetness—it was strange, he couldn’t quite pinpoint the flavor.
Pei Luo watched him eat heartily and muttered in her mind: “Lucky you, you brat. This was meant for the two children.” She had added spiritual spring water to their meal to help nourish them. Not only Xiao Man and Xiao Chen, but even she herself needed to recover from long-term malnutrition. Her skin was dull and sallow, and she was overly thin. In her previous life, at her lightest she weighed at least 100 jin (about 50 kg) at 1.71 meters—a perfect proportion. Now, the original host’s body had no chest, no curves, barely 1.65 meters tall, and weighed only 80 jin (about 40 kg)—a typical case of stunted development. It wasn’t entirely the host’s fault; in her maternal home, she had been neglected. She had been “sold off” to Lu Yuan, essentially without dowry, which explained her harsh personality toward the two children.
After the meal, Pei Luo finished tidying up the dishes when thunder and lightning rumbled again. The sky had completely darkened, yet the thick black clouds churned ominously. Soon, heavy rain began to fall.
Xiao Man, noticing the downpour, suddenly remembered something and anxiously said,
“Mom, our roof isn’t fixed yet! It’s going to leak!”
Pei Luo smacked her forehead—how had she forgotten? Fortunately, the hole wasn’t in the bedroom but in the main hall, right in the center. Though small, tonight’s heavy rain might threaten the roof’s stability.
“Boom~”
Another loud thunderclap, and lightning illuminated the courtyard. The few people inside lit oil lamps and exchanged worried glances.
Fu Yunqing glared, cornered. “It’s leaking here too…”
“Mom, several places inside are leaking!” Xiao Man hurried out with a basin. Xiao Chen quickly handed her an empty one. Suddenly, a drop splashed on Xiao Chen’s neck. He yelped and jumped aside, pointing at the roof. “Mom! Water!”
Pei Luo straightened up and saw the house had turned into a curtain of water. She gave up—there was no way to catch it all.
Seeing the two little ones and an injured man, Pei Luo resignedly rubbed her temples.
“You two stay put with Uncle Fu in the corner. Mom will go up and fix the roof,” she instructed.
Rolling up her sleeves, she ran into the rain. Fu Yunqing, watching her slender back, quietly revised his initial judgment—she wasn’t entirely useless after all.
Pei Luo went to the woodshed and collected the rain-soaked thatch into her space, so she wouldn’t have to run back and forth while fixing the roof. It made the task much more manageable.