Xiao Sheng pursed his lips and pushed the steamed bun toward her again: "Second Sister, then have two more bites, just two…"
"Hurry up and eat!" Mi Duoduo deliberately furrowed her brows, pretending to be impatient, and pressed a hand to her forehead. "Stop nagging, my headache is acting up again."
Hearing this, Xiao Sheng quickly took the bun back and began eating it in small bites.
He ate slowly, as if savoring some rare delicacy, even carefully licking a tiny bit of meat that had fallen onto his fingertip into his mouth.
Seeing that Mi Duoduo's enamel mug was empty, he immediately set down the bun, hurried over to take it, and turned to run toward the kitchen. Soon, he returned carrying a full mug of warm water, gently placing it on the table and not forgetting to remind her: "Second Sister, the water is here. Call me when you finish drinking."
Mi Duoduo watched his overly sensible demeanor, her heart aching and softening.
She quietly said to Xiao Fu in her mind: "See, isn't this kid especially good?"
Xiao Fu's virtual avatar swayed before her eyes, its lines softening a bit: "He is quite good, but still not as good as me."
Mi Duoduo didn't respond to Xiao Fu's remark, turning over and closing her eyes again.
Perhaps the effects of the Fuyuan Pill were still lingering, or perhaps the weight on her heart had lightened a little—she fell into an unusually deep sleep.
Mi Duoduo woke up again, this time from the urge to urinate.
As soon as she opened her eyes, she saw Xiao Sheng sitting on a small stool by the table, holding a half-used pencil and scribbling on a crumpled piece of paper.
He looked up and saw Mi Duoduo awake, hurriedly putting down the pen and standing up: "Second Sister, you're awake? Does your head still hurt?"
"Much better." Mi Duoduo propped herself up, trying to sit up. "I need to use the bathroom. Get me a pair of shoes."
Xiao Sheng quickly crouched down, fished out a pair of old cloth shoes from under the bed, and helped her sit up slowly: "Second Sister, don't move. I'll get you the chamber pot."
"I want to go to the bathroom." Mi Duoduo shook her head, still unaccustomed to using a chamber pot indoors.
Xiao Sheng looked a bit troubled: "Mom said before she left that the bathroom is too far, so you should just use it in the room. How about… going to the backyard? It's closer."
Mi Duoduo still felt awkward and gritted her teeth: "It's fine, I'll walk slowly. It's not far."
She had just shuffled to the door, leaning against the wall, when Xiao Sheng, having locked the door, caught up and carefully supported her arm: "Second Sister, take it slow. I'll help you."
As soon as the two stepped outside, they saw their aunt Zhang Xiaolian not far away, holding a child and chatting with two other elderly women by the door, while two children played nearby.
One of the children, about three or four years old, was looking around with wide, curious eyes.
As he looked, the child suddenly pointed at Mi Duoduo and exclaimed: "Grandma! Look at Sister Duoduo! Who cut her hair? It's so ugly!"
Only then did Mi Duoduo suddenly remember—after the back of her head was smashed open, the doctor had shaved off a large patch of hair on the right side to make it easier to apply medicine, revealing the bluish scalp with a piece of gauze in the middle. The remaining hair hung messily on the left side, making her look exactly like the "yin-yang head" of someone being criticized in a TV drama—it was truly unsightly.
Her face flushed hot in an instant, and she instinctively tried to brush her hair to the right side. But as soon as she raised her hand, she touched the wound and hissed in pain.
When she looked up, her eyes met Zhang Xiaolian's gaze. There was an indescribable scrutiny in that look, which instantly ignited a surge of anger in Mi Duoduo's heart.
But she didn't lash out. Instead, her eyes reddened, and her voice took on a pitiful, aggrieved tone, hoarse from just waking up: "Auntie…"
Zhang Xiaolian was momentarily taken aback by the address "Auntie." Holding the child, she took two steps forward: "Duoduo, you're awake? Is your head feeling any better?"
"It still hurts a lot."
Mi Duoduo lowered her eyes, her fingers twisting the hem of her clothes, her voice growing even softer. "Just now, this little brother said… said my hair looks ugly… If I go out like this, people will think I've been publicly criticized. I'd have to explain the whole story, wouldn't that just cause trouble? Auntie, I remember a while ago, my cousin's wife bought you a sky-blue silk scarf with little floral prints… Do you think you could lend it to me for a couple of days? Just to cover my hair. I'll return it as soon as my hair grows out a bit…"
Her words were gentle, her posture submissive, and her eyes glistened with unshed tears, making her look like a young girl who had suffered a great injustice.
Zhang Xiaolian's expression stiffened slightly.
She did indeed have such a scarf. It was brought back from Shanghai by someone Sun Ying had asked, reportedly costing over ten yuan. She had worn it twice last summer, drawing quite a bit of envy from the wives in the courtyard.
How did this girl remember that of all things?
The old lady nearby chimed in: "Yes, this child's hair is cut in a rather eye-catching way. Young girls care about their looks, Xiaolian, just lend it to her. It won't cost you anything."
"Not to criticize, but your Zhao Yong really went too far."
Zhang Xiaolian was unwilling in her heart, but in front of others, she couldn't refuse a child who had just been injured, especially since Mi Duoduo's injury was related to her family.
She forced a smile: "It's such a small matter, listen to you. Wait here, I'll go get it for you right now."
With that, she thrust the child in her arms into an old lady's embrace: "Hold him for a bit." Then she turned and went inside.
Xiao Sheng watched, dumbfounded, and quietly tugged at Mi Duoduo's sleeve, mouthing the words: "Second sister, you…"
Mi Duoduo ignored him, merely lifting her eyes to gaze at the door of Zhang Xiaolian's house, while inwardly speaking to Xiao Fu: "See that? I haven't read all those novels for nothing. Dealing with people like this requires exactly this approach."
Xiao Fu's virtual avatar flickered before her eyes, its lines radiating admiration: "The host is amazing!"
Mi Duoduo curled the corner of her mouth—this was just the beginning.
With Xiao Sheng supporting her, Mi Duoduo had just shuffled to the entrance of the toilet when a pungent, sour stench assaulted her nostrils, making her frown sharply and her stomach churn.
In the original host's memories, there was an impression of this toilet being foul-smelling, but experiencing this odor—a mix of filth and mildew—firsthand was far more acrid than imagined. She even held her breath for half a beat instinctively.
She instinctively covered her nose, her brows knitted into a tight frown.
Stepping inside, she saw the toilet was just a simple shed with several squatting pits. The waste below had accumulated halfway up the pits, and green-headed flies buzzed around.
When the wind blew, the stench—a mixture of excrement and mildew—was strong enough to bring tears to one's eyes.
Xiao Fu said sympathetically: "Host, why not just go back and use the chamber pot in the room?"
Mi Duoduo gritted her teeth: "We've already come this far. No turning back now."
Holding her breath, she found a relatively clean pit, rolled up her pant legs, and quickly took care of her business.
The more anxious she was, the more chaotic things became. That foul odor was pervasive, seeping through her nostrils and drilling into her lungs, churning her stomach until she felt nauseous.
She forced herself to endure with her eyes shut, feeling as though every second was a form of torture. In her mind, she cursed the 1970s-era toilet a thousand times—was this even a place fit for humans?
If she stayed any longer, she was afraid she’d truly be marinated in the stench.
Finally done, Mi Duoduo practically dragged Xiao Sheng out as if fleeing for her life. Only when they were far from the toilet and could breathe in some fresh air did she dare to gasp deeply.
She was even afraid that staying too long in the toilet might infect her wounds.
Leaning against the wall, she retched twice, her face pale as paper. "My goodness… this place is absolutely terrifying."