27 027

◎The Twenty-Seventh Day of the King of Scrolls◎

The atmosphere under the old peach tree at the village entrance was even more lively than when the distribution of pork was announced last time.

Jiang Wanzhou was squatting by the river, pounding clothes. The mallet hit the stone slab with a "bang, bang," and the splashing water wet her trouser legs.

She heard Aunt Wang's loud voice cut through the crowd: "Have you heard? The educated youth from Beijing are arriving soon!"

"Really? From Beijing again?" someone asked.

"Of course it's true! My nephew works as a messenger in the commune. He said this guy has quite a background; his family are high-ranking officials. I don't know how he ended up in our Hongxing Brigade."

Aunt Wang's voice carried a hint of pride, as if she were one of her own relatives.

The other women said, "What's so special about that? Several of them came from Beijing."

"That's different. This one is better than the previous ones."

"What's the meaning?"

"More than ten years have passed, and these educated youths are all prepared. Maybe our daughter can marry one of them."

Jiang Wanzhou paused in the mallet in her hand.

She's been busy with pigsty disease prevention and making up rhymes lately, and she almost forgot that, according to the original story, there should have been a high-ranking official's son who was sent down to the countryside.

However, this person went to the back mountain for some unknown reason, and ended up causing Jiang Renzhou to be injured and fall into a coma.

Since Su Xiaomei was willing to marry into the family to take care of the children, Jiang's mother decided to marry her.

But now that her best friend isn't the female lead, does the male lead still have the male lead's halo?

Will he wake up if he falls into a coma?

All of Aunt Wang's information was extracted from her.

The new guy's name is Song Zheng.

Jiang Wanzhou asked, "Did Auntie come alone?"

"There were also people transferred from other brigades, one named Jun Yanghong."

"What's wrong with Wanzhou? Why are you so absent-minded?" Shen Xinglian walked over carrying a basin of freshly washed wild vegetables. Seeing Wanzhou staring blankly in the direction of the village entrance, she followed her gaze. "Is an educated youth coming?"

"Hmm, I heard he's from Beijing, named Song Zheng." Jiang Wanzhou continued to pound her clothes, a slight strange feeling rising in her heart. "There's a character in the plot who will cause Jiang Renzhou to get injured and fall into a coma."

Shen Xinglian raised an eyebrow: "Whoever it is, they'll have to earn work points just like us."

In fact, the two of them arrived at the village entrance as soon as possible.

Jiang Wanzhou and Shen Xinglian hadn't swapped plot points, but Shen Xinglian was much more composed than her.

Therefore, she still felt that Shen Xinglian had her own side story.

If she's willing to talk, then listen; if she's not willing now, then don't bring it up.

The familiar oxcart drew closer.

The crowd surged forward.

Jiang Wanzhou and Shen Xinglian also moved forward a little.

The crowd parted to make way, revealing the young people following behind.

Jiang Wanzhou's breathing suddenly faltered.

The man was very tall, a head taller than the tallest man in the team. He wore a faded white shirt with the cuffs rolled up to his forearms, revealing slender yet strong wrists.

The black trousers were ironed perfectly, and although the cuffs were a little muddy, they didn't look disheveled at all.

He carried a military green canvas bag on his back and a brown leather suitcase slung over his shoulder, standing out awkwardly between the mud-brick house and the yellow earth.

What's even more striking is his face.

His skin was the kind of white that never sees the sun, his eyebrows and eyes were deep, his nose was high and straight, and his lips were very thin. When he pursed them into a straight line, he exuded a sense of aloofness that kept strangers at bay.

He didn't look at the villagers watching; he just tilted his head slightly, his gaze fixed on the distant rice paddies, as if he were admiring the scenery or lost in thought.

"Is this the educated youth from Beijing?" someone muttered. "He's really handsome, and he looks a lot like Zhou, the educated youth."

"This person doesn't seem as easy to talk to as Zhou Zhiqing."

"He doesn't look like someone who's good for manual labor; he's so delicate and fair-skinned." Some people scoffed.

"We need to distribute the grain immediately if we come here now..."

Jiang Weiguo ran out of the team headquarters, his face beaming with smiles: "You must be Song Zhiqing? I'm Jiang Weiguo, the team leader of the Red Star Brigade. Welcome, welcome!"

Song Zheng then turned his head, his gaze falling on Jiang Weiguo, and nodded slightly: "Hello, Captain Jiang, I am Song Zheng."

His voice, like him, was clear and crisp like mountain spring water, devoid of emotion, yet commanding respect.

At that moment, a soft cough came from outside the crowd.

Jiang Wanzhou turned around and saw Zhou Qingyu standing not far away, carrying a medicine box in her hand.

His gaze fell on Song Zheng, a barely perceptible hint of inquiry flashing in his eyes before returning to his usual calm.

“Zhou Zhiqing is here too.” Jiang Weiguo greeted him with a smile. “Perfect timing, there are two empty seats in your room, Song Zhiqing will stay in your room from now on.”

Zhou Qingyu nodded and nodded to Song Zheng, without saying anything more.

Song Zheng followed Jiang Weiguo toward the educated youth settlement. As he passed Jiang Wanzhou, his gaze swept over her indifferently.

After Jiang Wanzhou finished reading it, the inexplicable emotions in her heart instantly dissipated.

Whoever it is, even though he's similar to Zhou Zhiqing, there's always a first-come, first-served order.

During the afternoon work hours, the whole team's conversation revolved around Song Zheng.

"Have you heard? The suitcase that Song, the educated youth, brought is genuine leather!"

"He also brought a lot of books. When I went to give him the basin, I saw him packing up the books."

"I don't think he'll stay long; he'll probably go back to the city soon."

Jiang Wanzhou listened to these discussions, but her hoe didn't stop.

She was assigned to weed the fields, where the scorching sun made her scalp tingle.

Sweat streamed down his face, dripping onto the dry ground and disappearing instantly.

"Wanzhou, take a rest." Aunt Li next to her frowned. "Look, your lips are all pale."

"Thank you, Auntie." Jiang Wanzhou lifted her leg to check; there were no leeches.

She picked up the kettle to drink, and out of the corner of her eye, she saw Jiang Weiguo leading Song Zheng this way, with a sickle in his hand.

“Song Zhiqing, you can start by weeding with everyone and learn slowly.” Jiang Weiguo pointed to the plot of land next to Jiang Wanzhou. “Zhou girl, you can mentor Song Zhiqing.”

Jiang Wanzhou nearly choked on the water: "Me?"

Jiang Weiguo patted her on the shoulder, "Take good care of her, don't let people laugh at our farmer's daughter for not knowing how to farm."

Song Zheng had already walked up to her, his sickle firmly in his hand.

Just by looking at his movements, you can tell he's never done farm work.

"Hello, Song Zheng." He spoke first, his tone still indifferent, revealing neither good nor bad intentions.

"Jiang Wanzhou." Jiang Wanzhou stood up, patting the dirt off her hands. "Song Zhiqing, are you wearing gloves?"

"No."

"Then you'd better buy a pair as soon as possible, there's still a lot of farm work to do lately."

Seeing Song Zheng nod, Jiang Wanzhou continued, "Weeding isn't difficult. Just pull out the weeds next to the corn seedlings, but don't pull out the seedlings."

As she spoke, she bent down to demonstrate, "Like this, grab the grass root and pull hard."

Song Zheng nodded and bent down to imitate her, but he couldn't pull it up even with great effort and almost fell.

Jiang Wanzhou couldn't help but chuckle.

He looked up at her, his eyes devoid of emotion, yet Jiang Wanzhou felt inexplicably guilty.

She cleared her throat: "Take your time, don't rush."

Song Zheng didn't say anything and continued to struggle with the grass.

He learned slowly and clumsily, and soon he was covered in sweat, his white shirt soaked and clinging to his back, outlining his thin figure.

Seeing his serious expression, Jiang Wanzhou walked over, grabbed his wrist, and adjusted his posture: "Use your wrist, not your arm."

This scene was witnessed by Zhou Qingyu, who was not far away.

He finished work early this afternoon to go home and cook lunch. As he passed by the cornfield, he inexplicably stopped.

He saw Jiang Wanzhou lower her head and patiently teach Song Zheng how to hold a sickle.

The sunlight shone brightly on her sweat-dampened hair.

When she smiles, she has a small dimple at the corner of her mouth.

She won't just smile at him.

For some reason, Zhou Qingyu felt a dull, heavy feeling in her heart, as if something had been pressing against it.

He always thought Jiang Wanzhou was a prickly little beast with its fur standing on end.

But when she smiled at Song Zheng at this moment, those thorns seemed to have disappeared, and she became soft.

He watched as Song Zheng clumsily followed Jiang Wanzhou's instructions to weed.

It was a perfectly normal scene, but he found it extremely jarring.

It turns out, she wasn't that fierce to everyone.

It turns out she also has such a patient and gentle side.

Even if he had arrived six months later, he would have received the same treatment.

This realization made Zhou Qingyu's breath catch in his throat. He suddenly realized that he seemed to care a little.

She cared about the person standing next to her, not herself.

This unfamiliar feeling clung to him like vines, leaving him somewhat at a loss.

He turned and left the cornfield almost as if he were fleeing.

In the cornfield, Jiang Wanzhou was completely unaware of the commotion in the distance.

Looking at the blisters on Song Zheng's hands, she took out the herbal ointment that Shen Xinglian had prepared for her from her pocket: "Applying this will help it heal faster."

Song Zheng took the ointment, and his fingertips accidentally touched her hand, causing them both to pause for a moment.

He looked up at her, a hint of something in his eyes: "Thank you."

"You're welcome." Jiang Wanzhou waved her hand.

As they were finishing up, Song Zheng took out a neatly folded white handkerchief embroidered with a few orchids from his canvas bag: "Wipe your sweat."

Jiang Wanzhou was stunned.

"No need, I have one." She waved her hand and pulled a dusty old cloth from her pocket.

Song Zheng didn't pull his hand back: "Take it, it's more convenient than this."

Jiang Wanzhou hesitated for a moment, but still refused.

"No need to return it." Song Zheng's lips seemed to curl slightly as he forcefully handed it over. "It's yours."

Jiang Wanzhou held the handkerchief, her mind in turmoil.

She looked up and inadvertently caught a glimpse of a familiar figure in the direction of the educated youth settlement, resembling Zhou Qingyu.

Then she cursed herself in her heart, wondering what she was feeling guilty about.

As the sun set, Jiang Wanzhou carried a hoe and walked home.

She recalled Zhou Qingyu's hurried departure and felt a strange emptiness in her heart.

At that moment, at the educated youth settlement, Zhou Qingyu was sitting next to the stove, holding a book in her hand, but she couldn't concentrate on reading a single word.

My mind kept replaying the events that had happened since I went to the countryside.

He let out a long breath, his fingertips tracing faint marks on the pages.

When someone came in after work, Zhou Qingyu closed the book.

He noticed that the scratches on his fingers had been written with countless characters for "Jiang Wanzhou".

Zhou Qingyu's fingertips gently traced the three words, her eyes filled with complex emotions.

Will the newly arrived educated youth, Song, be a variable?

He didn't know.

But he knew clearly that he could no longer just watch from afar as before.

[Author's Note]

Shen Xinglian: To Zhou Qingyu, why did the latecomer surpass him? Because he fought and snatched.

Zhou Qingyu: Me too.

Jiang Wanzhou: You're actually this kind of person?