Transmigrated as an Unwanted Ugly Girl

Chapter 35: Chapter 23: Juhua’s Dad Broke His Leg

A new day brought with it a light and easy mood, as full of hope as the morning sun.

Zheng Changhe and Zhao San went into the mountains to hunt, hoping to earn a little spending money. Qingmu went to the schoolhouse, hoping to learn to read, understand the world, and build a better future. Juhua doted on the chickens and pigs as if they were her own ancestors, hoping for a good return in the coming year. Yang Family was busy in the vegetable patch, hoping for a better crop and more bountiful meals on the table.

With everyone so busy, the unpleasantness of yesterday scattered without a trace, like a white cloud in the vast sky, leaving behind only a deep, endless blue.

Juhua spoke with Yang Family about boiling more beans to make extra sauce. She had a faint idea forming in her mind. ’This sauce is so good with rice,’ she thought, ’and everyone in the family loves it. It can’t hurt to make more!’

So, after feeding the pigs, Juhua put on another pot of soybeans to boil. Then she hurried to make lunch—they had a student in the house now, which meant meals had to be on time.

By the time Qingmu rushed home for lunch, Juhua had already set the table. She ladled him a bowl of fish soup—made from two fish they’d saved from last night—and sat nearby, watching him with a wide smile.

Qingmu, his own face full of smiles, didn’t refuse his sister’s attentive care. As he ate, he asked, ”How come Mom isn’t home for lunch yet?”

Juhua propped her elbows on the table, rested her chin in her hand, and watched her brother. ”I called for her just a moment ago,” she said softly. ”She should be on her way back now.”

Sure enough, the voice of Yang Family came from outside. ”Qingmu’s home? How is it going?” It was unclear if she was asking how Qingmu’s studies were going, how the teacher was, or something else entirely.

But Qingmu seemed to know exactly what his mother was asking. He swallowed his last spoonful of soup, picked up his rice bowl for a refill, and replied, ”It’s going well! The teacher is great, and I can understand everything!”

The smile on the lips of Yang Family widened. She walked to the table and sat down, accepting the rice bowl Juhua offered. She added a spoonful of shrimp paste and some stir-fried crown daisy to her rice, then lowered her head and began to eat.

Juhua picked up her bowl as well. ”When do you think Dad will be home?” she asked as she ate.

Yang Family replied, ”Not until dark. If he gets lucky and doesn’t have to go too deep into the mountains to find game, he might be back a little earlier.”

Juhua smiled. ”I wonder what Dad will catch today.” She was eagerly hoping for some game to liven up their meals.

As if reading her mind, Yang Family smiled at her and said, ”He’ll get a rabbit at the very least. He rarely comes home empty-handed.”

Juhua laughed. ”Mom,” she said to Yang Family, ”when Dad’s home, let’s go up the mountain to gather some mushrooms. We can just stick to the nearby areas.”

Qingmu chimed in, ”Wait for my day off from school, and I’ll go with you!”

Juhua asked, ”So how often do you get a day off?”

Qingmu replied, ”One day off every ten days.”

”Oh!” Juhua thought. ’You barely get one day off, how could I dare drag you all over the place? Besides, by the time your next day off comes, who knows how cold it will be.’

As she suspected, Yang Family said, ”I’m afraid it’s getting too cold; there probably aren’t any mushrooms left on the mountain. There were some a little while ago. You find more in the spring, and a lot more around September and October. By now, they’re likely all gone.”

Only then did Juhua give up on the idea.

That afternoon, Yang Family went to the fields to check on the wheat. The sun was still high in the sky when Zheng Changhe and Zhao San returned. But Zheng Changhe wasn’t walking; he was being carried on Zhao San’s back. He had fallen and broken his leg.

Juhua looked at Zheng Changhe’s weather-beaten face, at the smile he was forcing, then glanced at Zhao San’s grim expression. All the hope and courage she had painstakingly mustered that morning suddenly deflated like a punctured ball.

Zhao San settled Zheng Changhe onto the bed Qingmu used in the main hall. ”I’m going to the village to get Doctor Qin,” he said to Juhua. ”You look after your dad for now. And don’t you worry. He’ll be alright. He’ll just have to stay in bed for a while, which will be a bit of a hassle.”

Juhua replied calmly, ”Third Uncle Zhao, I’m sorry to trouble you with another trip.”

Zhao San chuckled. ”You silly girl, I have to go home anyway, don’t I? It’s on my way.”

Lying on the bed, Zheng Changhe saw Zhao San hurrying out and quickly called after him, ”Why aren’t you taking the rabbit and the pheasant? Take them home and make a soup for Little Shitou.”

Zhao San turned around and chided him, ”You’re in this state, and you’re still worried about that? I’m leaving this game for you, to help you recover. If I had to buy something else to bring when I visit, wouldn’t that cost money? You need to eat well to get better faster. I know it’s winter now and there isn’t much work in the fields, but lying in bed is no fun, is it? And you’re making your wife and Juhua worry themselves sick!”

Zheng Changhe couldn’t win the argument, and his leg was throbbing with pain, so he could only watch his friend leave with a wry smile.