“No.”
Gu Yuhua grew anxious. “I saw it! There’s still some in the thermos…”
“I said no, that means no. Don’t you understand human language?”
“It’s just a little mung bean soup. Do you have to be like this?” Gu Linchuan had followed over at some point without anyone noticing. He gazed at Shen Qinghe, his tone carrying a hint of displeasure.
With Shen Qingsong absent, the Shen family’s Liu Lanying—who had a more outspoken personality—naturally spoke up. She had just tasted the mung bean soup that her sister-in-law had sweetened, and of course, she had to defend her.
“Hey, it’s just some mung bean soup! Why is your sister so stubbornly fixated on it? No one’s food just falls from the sky! I told her there’s none left, but she still insists! I, Liu Lanying, have lived this long and never seen anyone with such shameless nerve!”
Gu Yuhua’s face turned from pale to red. Embarrassed, she looked at Shen Qinghe. “Qinghe, are you really just going to watch your sister-in-law humiliate me? We used to be so close…”
Shen Qinghe smiled. “I treated you well back then because I was discussing a marriage with your brother. Now that the engagement is off, it’s only natural to avoid any appearance of closeness. Otherwise, if your future sister-in-law found out we were still so friendly, she’d get angry. We don’t want your brother and his wife to fight, right?”
Gu Linchuan misunderstood her words as jealousy, thinking she still cared about him. Feeling slightly reassured, he no longer cared about the mung bean soup. “Yuhua, listen. If Qinghe’s soup isn’t enough, we can go home and drink some there.”
“It’s not that it’s insufficient! I saw clearly that there’s still some in her thermos! She just doesn’t want to give it to me! How stingy!” Gu Yuhua was crushed. Her own brother was defending Shen Qinghe!
“Yuhua!” Gu Linchuan frowned, clearly displeased. “Aren’t you going to apologize to Qinghe?”
She had no intention of apologizing. It wasn’t her fault! Snorting, she turned her back and stomped toward the field.
“Sorry, Qinghe. Yuhua doesn’t understand. Don’t mind her,” Gu Linchuan said.
“There’s indeed still mung bean soup in my thermos. I just don’t want to give it to her.”
“You…” Gu Linchuan’s expression stiffened.
“We’re no longer close. Please don’t speak to me again. And tell your sister the same.”
“…” Gu Linchuan had nothing to say and walked away, clearly unhappy.
“What kind of people are these? All that food back then must’ve gone to the dogs,” Zhou Chunfeng commented after finishing her soup. “Qinghe, maybe you should limit your interactions with this Gu Yuhua.”
“Mm, I understand.”
Zhang Manfang felt both embarrassed and annoyed. Embarrassed that her daughter was being humiliated in front of so many, but also frustrated that Shen Qinghe showed no respect for the Gu family by embarrassing her daughter publicly. Yet she dared not speak up—she didn’t want to offend the Shen family. She could only glare at her daughter. “Why are you so greedy? She doesn’t want to give it to you, and you’re insisting. Isn’t that shameful? Now get back to work!”
Gu Yuhua, mortified, bent down and buried her head in the soil, angrily yanking weeds and throwing them onto the ground.
The onlookers each had their own thoughts. Watching this, it hardly seemed like Shen Qinghe was clinging to the Gu boy; if anything, it looked like the Gu boy still wanted to marry Shen Qinghe. Could it be that the things her grandson said were true?
“Chunfeng, your Qinghe is so filial—she even thought to bring mung bean soup for you. Not like my Yulian, who just lies around at home all day,” Zhou Chunfeng laughed.
“I heard she’s pregnant?”
“She is, and she’s being taken care of by her in-laws. They spoil her too much! She’s only three months along—why can’t she do some work? Her husband doesn’t even let her wash clothes! Truly…” Zhou Chunfeng’s words were meant to boast, but she knew Qinghe was just showing off, so she played along.
“Your Yulian is lucky to have married a good man…”
“…”
“Sweetheart, it’s hot here. You should head home first,” Shen Xingqing said, wiping his sweat.
“Yes, little sister, we’re done drinking,” Zhu Yuxiu added, putting her bowl in the basket.
Shen Qinghe poured the last bit of mung bean soup for Shen Qingshan. Being large and heat-sensitive, he drank it in one gulp and said, “I’ll head home first.”
“Mm, take care on the way and don’t fall.”
Hearing her father’s concern, Shen Qinghe couldn’t help but smile. Did he really treat her like a three-year-old?
After leaving the sweet potato field, she didn’t go home but found a secluded spot to store her thermos and basket in her space. She planned to head to Huming Mountain next.
It was August, and the wild chestnuts, hazelnuts, and pine nuts on the mountain were ripe. She hadn’t found any in the morning, so she planned to explore further in the afternoon.
Moreover, her second brother had said that after breaking off her engagement with Gu Linchuan, her luck would return. She wanted to test this, to prove to her family that her good fortune was real, so that any future gifts she brought wouldn’t attract undue attention.
Familiar with the path from the morning, she walked it faster this time. But Huming Mountain was vast, and she soon forgot the exact route. She could only follow visible paths.
This had a benefit: she gradually found more wild fruits, including a tall wild chestnut tree on a small slope. Seeing that no one had come here before, she safely stored the entire tree in her space.
The higher she went, the cooler it became. If it weren’t dangerous, she would have wanted to bring her family here to escape the heat. The higher she climbed, the fewer signs of human presence she saw. Eventually, paths disappeared, and she had to use a branch to clear the way.
“Ah, wild strawberries!” Shen Qinghe’s eyes lit up. She had just cleared a thick bush with a branch and spotted bright red berries hidden among the green leaves. The birds hadn’t discovered them, though a few bore marks from insects.
There were many types of wild strawberries, but she favored this one—some called it the Eastern strawberry. Sweet and sour, it tasted excellent. When she was young, her brothers always brought some home after weeding. As the fruit became popular, most had been picked, so she was delighted to find them deep in the mountains.
She tasted one: sour with a hint of sweetness, which she could tolerate. She transplanted the seedlings into her space and happily continued up the mountain.
Soon, she discovered a patch of dwarf huckleberries, small plants with dense dark blue berries.
These were also called blueberries. She tasted one, puckering her face at the sourness. No wonder the birds and insects hadn’t touched them. In her past life, she had seen these made into jam with sugar, sold in glass jars, and highly prized.
Shen Qinghe suddenly thought she could try making some herself.