As she lowered her head, she noticed the watch on his wrist pressing against the soft flesh of her waist.
Though the watch’s design was understated, she recognized its brand and immense collectible value almost at a glance. Regardless of the era, it was an imported luxury beyond the reach of ordinary people.
Chu Youhuan couldn’t help but recall the wall of honors she had seen that morning and clicked her tongue in amazement. Truly, appearances could be deceiving—who would have guessed that such a young, handsome doctor could have such an outstanding resume?
Without a doubt, he was destined to stand at the pinnacle of his profession in the future.
A family capable of nurturing such an exceptional young man must be anything but ordinary.
“Are you alright?”
Having just dealt with a difficult patient, Xu Chenxin was in no mood for pleasantries. Out of courtesy, he asked the question and prepared to release his hold. But seeing her dazed and swaying unsteadily, he feared she might lose her balance and fall again. With a slight increase in pressure, he guided her to a wider step.
This, however, unavoidably increased the area of contact between them.
Feeling the sensation beneath his palm, an inappropriate thought crossed his mind: How could she be so thin? Her waist was so slender that his hand could completely encircle it.
Yet where his thumb inadvertently brushed against her felt unexpectedly full, as if sinking into a cloud of cotton.
He couldn’t tell what she had applied to her skin, but a faint, elusive fragrance drifted into his nostrils—reminiscent of jasmine. Soft yet assertive, it enveloped him, impossible to ignore.
Realizing his thoughts had strayed beyond propriety, Xu Chenxin pressed his thin lips into a straight line, frowned uncomfortably, and decisively released his hold. He took half a step to the side, about to leave, when her voice stopped him.
“Dr. Xu.”
He turned and met her delicate, charming face. Her smooth, dark hair was braided and draped over her chest, accentuating her fair, delicate skin. Her clear, clean voice carried a light, upward lilt, drawing his gaze unconsciously to the movement of her lips.
Full and moist, they resembled the ripe peaches he had eaten just two days before.
“Are you alright?”
The same question was tossed back at him. Xu Chenxin was momentarily taken aback. Before he could respond, a plain white handkerchief appeared before him. Perhaps fearing rejection, its owner deftly tucked it into the left breast pocket of his coat.
By the time he regained his composure, she had vanished from the stairwell, leaving only the lingering scent of jasmine.
When Chu Youhuan returned to the ward, Zhao Chunrong was packing her belongings. Seeing her return, she casually asked, “What took you so long?”
“I just wandered around nearby.”
Chu Youhuan offered a vague reply and stepped forward to help. Once they finished, Zhao Chunrong brewed her a cup of malted milk. The rich, creamy aroma filled the air, but the taste was overly sweet to her liking. In the end, she coaxed Zhao Chunrong into finishing it.
With little to do in the hospital, she lay on the bed, lost in thought. Her mind drifted back to Xu Chenxin. A doctor of his caliber—who would dare splash water in his face?
No matter how much she pondered, she couldn’t find an answer. Eventually, she gave up and instinctively reached into her pocket, touching the ointment inside.
That handkerchief could be considered as interest paid to him.
In the evening, Chu Youhuan and Zhao Chunrong each washed up and got into bed, ready to rest. However, the little boy in the neighboring hospital bed, upset that his brother hadn’t come to tell him a bedtime story, began crying, throwing things, and making a fuss, disturbing everyone’s peace. His mother could only soothe him gently, completely unable to control the unruly child.
Chu Youhuan lay in bed, enduring the noise until she finally sat up abruptly and pulled aside the curtain between the beds. “What’s all this racket? Don’t you think others need to sleep?”
Her outburst startled both the little boy and his mother, and the ward instantly fell silent.
Without giving them time to react, Chu Youhuan, recalling the boy’s name she had overheard earlier, continued her scolding: “Dongdong, I know your homeroom teacher. If you keep throwing tantrums, I’ll tell him tomorrow how disobedient you are at home.”
Hearing this, Dongdong shrank back, stopped crying, and immediately hid under his blanket.
Finally, peace and quiet returned. Chu Youhuan felt the stifling frustration in her chest ease. Indeed, no matter the era, teachers remained a mountain looming over children’s heads—there wasn’t a single child who wasn’t afraid of them.
Chu Youhuan gave a slight, wry smile to the stunned mother, then pulled the curtain shut and lay back down. Zhao Chunrong, who had slept at the foot of the bed, had woken up early to simmer chicken soup and endured a long bus ride into the city. Exhausted from the day, she had already fallen asleep, and even the earlier commotion hadn’t disturbed her.
The rest of the night passed without further incident. The next day, after breakfast in the cafeteria and completing the discharge procedures, the mother and daughter went to the county entrance to wait for the Gongshe tractor.
During this busy farming season, tractors were arranged almost daily to transport fertilizer into the city. Fortunately for them, they could hitch a ride back to the village.
Learning from her previous experience, Chu Youhuan specifically asked the cafeteria staff for a small piece of ginger. As soon as she boarded the tractor, she held it under her nose to smell and mimicked Xu Chenxin’s earlier actions by massaging the acupoint on her hand between the thumb and index finger.
Perhaps these little tricks worked, as this time the journey wasn’t as unbearable. Still, when they got off, she had to crouch by the roadside for a while to recover.
“You never used to get motion sickness before.”
Seeing her daughter’s pale face, Zhao Chunrong felt heartbroken. Suddenly remembering something, she couldn’t help but curse, “Could it be a lingering effect from the beating?”
Chu Youhuan pursed her lips, unsure how to brush off the question, when a voice suddenly chimed in from the side. “Well, if it isn’t Huanhuan from the Daduizhang’s family! Where have you two been?”
Aunt Zhang had been toiling in the rice paddies all morning and had finally managed to snag the task of fetching water for the village, giving her a chance to slack off. Just as she reached the village entrance, she spotted two slender figures—one in gray, the other in pink—crouching by the roadside. Their faces were equally pale and glowing, and even without a closer look, she could guess who they were.
Apart from that seductive mother-daughter pair from the Chu family, she had never seen any other country folk as fair-skinned as them.
Fair skin aside, both were exceptionally pretty, with smooth, jet-black hair—every detail flawless and delicate, enough to make every man in the village, young and old, stop in their tracks.
Heaven truly was unfair.
But thinking of the rumors circulating in the village lately, Aunt Zhang felt a surge of satisfaction.
Tsk tsk, Zhao Chunrong had been proud and satisfied for most of her life, only to end up raising a beautiful but brainless vase who shamelessly chased after male Zhiqing all day long, throwing herself at them in a desperate attempt to marry herself off. Once a girl’s reputation was ruined, it would be difficult for her to marry into a good family in the future.
“Aunt Zhang, what are you doing here at this hour?”
Zhao Chunrong replied with a smile, but inwardly she cursed her bad luck. She had specifically chosen this time to return to the village to avoid running into anyone. Who would have thought she not only ran into someone but also encountered Aunt Zhang, the biggest gossip in the village, who could twist white into black.
“I came back to refill some water for everyone.”
After saying this, Aunt Zhang, afraid that Zhao Chunrong, as the wife of the Daduizhang, might misunderstand her as slacking off, showed her the large water jug in her basket. Then, her eyes shifted to Chu Youhuan, who was still squatting on the ground nearby, and she feigned concern, saying, “I heard yesterday that the youngest daughter of the Zhou family hit you, Huanhuan? Oh, your face is injured—how did it get so serious? Was it because of that…”
As she spoke, she couldn’t quite hide the excitement in her tone at sniffing out gossip, her voice rising slightly at the end, making it sound particularly grating.
Hearing this, Chu Youhuan secretly rolled her eyes and remained silent.
Beside her, Zhao Chunrong inwardly cursed Aunt Zhang to the heavens, her face darkening as she abruptly cut her off. “Aunt Zhang, tell me who’s got nothing better to do and is spreading rumors behind our backs again? I’m going to find Old Chu right now and report this to Secretary Zhou.”
At the mention of the two most influential figures in the village, Aunt Zhang’s smile froze, and she coughed guiltily, mumbling, “I’m old and my memory isn’t what it used to be. I can’t remember who said it. I’m in a hurry to fetch water, so I won’t keep you any longer.”
With that, she hurried away, completely unlike her leisurely self from moments before, as if a ghost were chasing her.
Zhao Chunrong spat in the direction of her retreating figure, then turned to her daughter and said, “From now on, steer clear of her when you see her. A gossip like her will trip herself up sooner or later.”
Chu Youhuan nodded. Once she felt a bit better, she walked with Zhao Chunrong toward the Chu family home.
Ganye Village was nestled at the foot of the mountain. To the east of the village entrance stretched endless paddy fields. The early rice had already been mostly harvested, and now everyone was busy plowing the fields and transplanting the late rice. The fields were filled with people working densely together.
Shirtless men drove water buffaloes to plow the land, their shouts piercing the sky, audible from far away.
The Chu family home wasn’t far from the village entrance. A bamboo fence tightly enclosed the courtyard, making it impossible for passersby to see inside without standing on tiptoe.
No one was home at the moment. Zhao Chunrong walked to the courtyard gate, reached out to undo the latch, and pushed the gate open. Only then did Chu Youhuan get a clear look at the home where she would be living for a long time.
Facing the entrance was the main hall, with couplets written during the New Year still pasted on the wooden pillars on either side. The once bright red paper had now faded somewhat.
To the left of the main hall were, in order, the kitchen, the storage room, and the original owner’s room. To the right were the rooms of Zhao Chunrong and Chu Songqiang, the couple, as well as the rooms of the two brothers, Chu Deming and Chu Deshan.
“All these flowers but no fruit—sweeping the floor every day is driving me crazy.”
Zhao Chunrong couldn’t stay idle. She casually tossed her small bundle onto a chair in the main hall and immediately picked up a bamboo broom to sweep away the fallen leaves and withered flowers on the ground.
Chu Youhuan followed the sound and looked over, spotting a sour jujube tree planted in the corner of the yard. Its branches were slender and long, with scattered yellow-green flower buds hanging among the lush green leaves—fewer in number than those already fallen on the ground.
“Huanhuan, hurry back to your room and rest. We’ll have fish for lunch later.”
“Alright.”
Being new here, Chu Youhuan felt somewhat uneasy. Hearing Zhao Chunrong’s words, she couldn’t help but breathe a slight sigh of relief. Following the memories in her mind, she turned and entered the room directly.
The room wasn’t particularly large, but it was bright and airy. A window facing the yard let in just the right amount of sunlight, scattering tiny, sparkling spots of light. It wasn’t overly sunny, but in this weather, it wasn’t exactly cool either.
The furniture inside was sparse—only a bed, a desk, and a wardrobe.
Chu Youhuan casually picked up the palm-leaf fan on the desk, fanning herself as she comforted herself: though simple, it was at least clean and hygienic, much better than a thatched hut.
Moreover, in the resource-scarce 1970s, where food and clothing were hard to come by, the original owner was among the few girls who had her own room. Many female comrades still shared a room with their parents and siblings until they married.
In this regard, she was fortunate.
Chu Youhuan let out a bitter laugh. In the past, Miss Chu would never have imagined that one day she’d feel grateful for having her own room.
Lying on the bed, her eyelids gradually closed without her realizing it, leaving only the sound of unknown birds chirping in the countryside.
————————!!————————
Huanhuan: Tall, rich, and handsome?
Dr. Xu: Yours.
【[Yellow Heart] Next book “The Spoiled Darling of the Era Novel Bigshot” seeks collections and support～
Synopsis as follows:
At nineteen, Lin Chuyi dreamed she was the swapped fake heiress in an era novel. Shortly after moving back to the countryside, she was sold by her wicked stepmother to the local bully and died tragically from domestic violence a few years later.
Lin Chuyi, who had always been terrified of pain, woke up in a panic, only to find the real heiress had already arrived downstairs and swiftly reunited with her parents.
With no way out, she decided to elope with her childhood sweetheart who had secretly loved her for years. She had everything planned, but on the day of their marriage registration, the person who showed up was her sweetheart’s uncle.
Staring into those icy, pitch-black eyes, Lin Chuyi tried to flee, but the back of her neck was held firmly. “He can’t make it. How about marrying me instead?”
Lin Chuyi: ??
She thought he was here to call off the wedding—turns out he was here to steal it!
“A necessary arrangement to appease the elders.”
“Then… let’s do it.”
After marriage, she pounded her husband’s eight-pack abs every night in regret: this bargain husband who came knocking is way too energetic—can I return him?!
Pei Linzhou, the eldest son of the Pei family, was decisive and formidable. By twenty-five, he already controlled half of Hucheng’s financial market, making him the most sought-after young talent of the time.
He had no interest in romance, yet he often heard a woman’s name: Lin Chuyi—his nephew’s childhood sweetheart.
She couldn’t carry a load or lift a hand, cried at the drop of a hat, was spoiled and delicate, and demanded the best of everything—food, clothes, possessions. Marrying her would be the worst luck in eight lifetimes.
Pei Linzhou had heard such remarks too many times, dismissing them as a young boy’s first crush and paying them no mind.
Later on, he personally met that delicate Miss Lin—her skin as smooth as jade, her figure enchanting, so beautiful it was beyond description. Pei Linzhou, who had always been indifferent to love and affection, felt a flicker of emotion in his eyes.
That night, he caught his nephew red-handed stealing the household register and learned that she was in a hurry to marry herself off. In a moment of bewilderment, he went to the meeting in his nephew’s place.
“As long as you choose me, it’s fine even if you like my nephew.”
Reading Guide:
Daddy-type boyfriend indulges fiercely after marriage~
Delicate young lady vs. dotting older man