That calm, gentle query nearly made Li Miaomiao trip over her own feet. She furrowed her brow, her face etched with pure bewilderment.
What on earth does that have to do with Lin Dalang, that scumbag?
She didn’t offer a reply, simply walking out of the room. Behind her, the mirth in Xiao Xian’s expression vanished, replaced by a cold, brooding malice. It seems I was right.
Li Miaomiao emptied the bucket of water and looked down at her right palm. Remembering how Xiao Xian had deliberately teased her, she clenched her fist and punched the air in frustration. Once she’d vented, she ladled fresh water from the cooking pot into the bucket, filled it to the brim, and lugged it back to the room.
Inside, she applied the warm compresses to Xiao Xian’s legs. Neither of them spoke.
An hour passed, and the water began to grow tepid. Just as Li Miaomiao was preparing to swap it out again, the pain finally ebbed. Xiao Xian spoke, his voice cool and distant: “My legs are much better.”
After a grueling night, Li Miaomiao was beyond exhausted. Seeing that his face was no longer ash-white, she stifled a yawn and wiped the tears of fatigue from the corners of her eyes.
“I heard you,” she replied, her voice thick with sleepiness. “Do you need me to help you put your trousers back on?”
The question turned Xiao Xian’s face to stone instantly. He stared at her with icy indifference. “What? Are you still hoping for a look?”
Li Miaomiao raised an eyebrow, speechless at his bizarre hostility. She had worked herself to the bone all night out of the kindness of her heart, only to be met with that? Her temper wasn’t exactly saintly, but she felt she had treated Xiao Xian with nothing but patience and effort.
It was a classic case of casting pearls before swine.
She wasn’t so much hurt as she was furious. “You’re the one who told me to fend for myself! Besides, what’s so special about that little bit of meat that I’d want to look at it?”
She thrust her reddened, scalded hands toward him, her lips trembling with growing agitation. “I’ve been working until I can barely keep my eyes open, my hands are blistered red like pig’s trotters, and yet here you are, accusing me of being shameless when I’m only trying to help.”
Seeing her face flushed with rage and her hands shaking, Xiao Xian shifted his gaze to her eyes, which were as clear as mountain springs.
She truly only wanted to help? She didn’t intend to mock me at all?
He was just about to speak when Li Miaomiao, caught in the momentum of her own fury, let it all spill out. “That’s right, I ignored you when you told me to ‘scram,’ and I’m shameless for wanting to help you. It’s all my own fault, isn’t it?”
With that, she grabbed the bucket and stormed out without looking back. Still fuming, she failed to watch her footing; she tripped over the threshold and stumbled, sending water splashing everywhere—soaking her own chest in the process.
She looked down at her drenched clothing, let out a long, ragged breath, and headed for the kitchen. After putting down the bucket and throwing a few punches at the air for good measure, she sat down to bank the fire.
Once she had tidied up, she didn’t bother worrying about the argument. She simply trudged back toward the bedroom; sleep was the only priority now.
Hearing her approaching footsteps, Xiao Xian calmly closed his eyes.
When she reached the bed and saw the man already “asleep,” Li Miaomiao fought the urge to roll her eyes. She blew out the lamp and climbed into bed. She turned her back to him, and within moments, she was dead to the world.
Listening to the steady rhythm of her breathing, Xiao Xian opened his eyes and turned his head to watch her back. He thought about her angry outburst. A strange flicker passed through his dark eyes, though he quickly buried it.
The next morning.
After the previous night’s exhaustion, Li Miaomiao didn’t wake up until the sun was high in the sky. She stretched, felt for the space beside her, and turned her head to check. She patted the bedding.
Ice cold.
She glanced toward the door, muttering, “He’s up early.”
She actually wanted to sleep more, but the thought of the pig offal still sitting untreated, and the stack of blades waiting to be fitted into handles, killed any desire to return to dreamland.
She put on her shoes and stepped out of the room. She took one step, blinked, and then retreated back into the room.
Leaning against the wall were two wooden sticks, but the pair of crutches she had painstakingly made for him were gone. Her eyes narrowed as she seemed to realize something.
Filled with curiosity, she walked into the courtyard. At a glance, she saw Xiao Xian sitting on a stone by the well. The warm sunlight bathed him, stripping away some of his usual gloom.
He almost looked… alive?
The realization took Li Miaomiao by surprise. But what surprised her even more was the object resting beside him: the bucket of pig offal she had been soaking.
He was currently flipping… the pig intestine!
The intestine slithered through his fingers like a dance partner. It was painfully obvious that Xiao Xian had never performed such a task in his life. Every movement of his hands seemed to scream, I am completely out of my element.
Even though the smell was revolting, Xiao Xian didn’t even twitch a brow. He noticed Li Miaomiao standing on the steps, staring at him with a bizarre expression. He didn’t look the least bit embarrassed, merely stating in a calm, airy tone, “You didn’t feed the chickens.”
The sudden shift in his attitude made Li Miaomiao’s jaw nearly hit the ground. She widened her eyes and turned toward the back-basket. “Got it.”
She went to the kitchen, found some scraps the hens could eat, and crouched down to toss them in. The two hens immediately began pecking away. While feeding them, she stole a glance at the man sitting on the stone stool. She noted the crutches she had made for him leaning against the well, and then looked back at his clumsy, unskilled hands. Her heart filled with questions.
We had a row last night, and suddenly his attitude has improved?
Her eyes darted around, and some very strange ideas began to pop into her head. Does he actually like that kind of thing?
The moment Li Miaomiao turned her head, Xiao Xian caught her sneaking a look. One glance at her expression and he knew she wasn’t thinking about anything decent.
“Come here and give me a hand. I can’t seem to get this clean.”
He’s actually being direct today, not being sarcastic or cold?
It seemed yesterday’s argument had been effective—at least in helping him vent some of his pent-up frustration.
She dusted off her hands and stood up. “You keep working on it, I’m going to go chop some bamboo and build a coop first.”
She had bought the hens specifically to get fresh eggs, which would help nurse Xiao Xian back to health. She also remembered she needed some sturdy wood for the handles for her new tools, so she decided to cut down a tree as well.
As she left with her hatchet, Xiao Xian stared at the half-bucket of offal, frowned, and returned to wrestling with the intestines.
There was a bamboo grove behind the hill, and before long, Li Miaomiao was dragging a load of bamboo and timber back to the yard. She tossed the bamboo on the ground and surveyed the area, finally setting her sights on the empty plot of land against the left wall.
It would serve as a temporary shed for now; she would plan a proper, permanent coop once she had the time to repair the walls and the rest of the courtyard.
“Xiao Xian, I’m going to use that patch of land to build a coop. Is that alright?”
After all, this was Xiao Xian’s home; it was only polite to ask.
Xiao Xian tossed a piece of cleaned intestine into a fresh bucket and looked toward where she was pointing. His gentle eyes remained devoid of any emotional fluctuation. “Do as you like.”
Li Miaomiao raised an eyebrow, her eyes curving into a mischievous, spirited smile. Right, so I have free rein to do whatever I want.
She was a woman of action. In no time, she had split the bamboo into quarters, chopped them to a height of about four feet, and laid them out neatly. She grabbed a heavy piece of firewood from the kitchen and began driving the bamboo stakes into the dirt, one by one, with the inner side facing out.
Thud.
Thud…
Every time she heard that rhythmic knocking sound, images of an execution ground flashed into Xiao Xian’s mind. He suddenly clamped his hand tightly around the intestine, his eyes burning with intense, deep-seated hatred.
The force of his grip was too great; the intestine split, and a spray of filth splattered out from the tear.
Li Miaomiao was buried in her work, but she noticed a glob of something gelatinous appear near her feet. Familiar with the anatomy of the intestine from her cleaning earlier, she knew exactly what it was. She stopped what she was doing and looked back at Xiao Xian.
Seeing his expression turn gloomy, a look that warned everyone to stay away, she glanced around. The view was wide, open, and filled with rolling mountains. Aside from the occasional bird call, there wasn’t a soul in sight. They lived at the very edge of the village; almost no one ever came this way.
She muttered to herself, “There’s no one around, and I haven’t provoked him. Surely the sound of me knocking bamboo didn’t upset him, did it?”
The knocking ceased, and the visions in Xiao Xian’s mind faded away. Hearing her mutterings, he wiped the fierce, dark glare from his brow and calmly continued cleaning the intestines.
Watching him return to acting as if nothing had happened, Li Miaomiao pursed her lips and shook her head slightly.
What a temperamental man.