Chapter 15 Zhao Qingda is back
The next day, beautiful frost flowers formed on the window frames.
Wen Xiaoxiao woke up exceptionally early. With money in her pocket, she went briskly to the market, picked out a piece of pork belly with a good balance of fat and lean meat, and bought a fresh, crisp cabbage.
I got busy as soon as I got back.
Cut the meat into cubes, stir-fry it in a pot until the oil is rendered, add scallions, ginger, star anise, soy sauce, and sugar, and simmer over low heat.
The aroma of meat quickly filled the entire courtyard, domineeringly overshadowing the originally cool and quiet atmosphere.
She then prepared the dough, chopped the filling, and steamed a pot of plump, white meat buns.
The meat was stewed until tender.
She first ladled out a large bowl full, which was reserved for Zhao Fei.
She carefully wrapped the rest in a clean cloth, put it in a bamboo basket, and carried it out the door.
When we arrived at the shop, Sister Hu was ironing clothes.
Wen Xiaoxiao handed over the basket with a sincere smile on her face: "Sister Hu, these past few months, I'm so grateful to you for teaching me and giving me work to do. I stewed some meat and steamed some buns at home. Please don't mind, have a taste."
Sister Hu lifted her eyelids, and her serious expression softened a little.
“You’re quite the smooth talker. Perfect timing, you don’t need to go back for lunch, let’s finish this meat and buns together. I also have a bottle of good wine that someone gave me for the New Year, it’s unopened, let’s have some too.”
At noon, the shop closed its doors.
Sister Hu reheated the stewed meat and steamed buns on the coal stove, smashed a cucumber, and took out the bottle of "sorghum liquor" with a red paper label.
Two women, one seasoned by life and the other just beginning to experience independence, drank together over a simple yet hearty meal, one cup after another.
Sister Hu became more talkative, recounting the hardships she endured learning her craft in her youth and the coldness and warmth of human relationships within this industry.
Wen Xiaoxiao mostly listened quietly, occasionally chiming in with a few words. As the alcohol took effect, her cheeks flushed, but her eyes sparkled.
The lunch took a long time, and most of the bottle of wine was gone.
Wen Xiaoxiao has a low alcohol tolerance, and by the end she was feeling unsteady on her feet and seeing double.
Seeing that she was quite drunk, Sister Hu wanted her to stay at the shop to rest for a while, but Wen Xiaoxiao insisted on going back: "It's okay... Sister Hu, I'm happy... I know the way..." Carrying an empty basket, she staggered home, the cold wind blowing on her burning face, but she actually felt comfortable.
Passing by a small shop at the entrance of the alley, she bought herself a bag of animal crackers that she usually couldn't bear to eat. Like a child, she stuffed them into her mouth as she walked, giggling out loud.
Life seems to have really changed; there's hope now, she thought.
Pushing open the gate of the courtyard house, the courtyard was quiet.
Zhao Fei has probably been busy at the pig farm and hasn't come back.
Wen Xiaoxiao didn't mind. She put down the basket and, feeling dizzy, walked to the stone bench under the old locust tree and sat down.
The winter sun was weak and not very warm, but she didn't feel cold at all. Instead, she felt warm and light all over.
After sitting for a while, the effects of the alcohol kicked in completely, my head felt incredibly heavy, and my eyelids started to droop.
She got up unsteadily, went back to the east wing, pulled back the quilt, and wrapped herself in it.
She almost immediately drifted off into a deep sleep.
I don't know how long I slept, but in my hazy state, I felt heavy, alcohol-smelling breaths on my face.
She struggled to open her eyes and finally saw the face lying on top of her—it was Zhao Qingda!
Hasn't he been away for months?
Anger surged to his head in an instant.
"Zhao Qingda!" She shoved him with all her might, her voice hoarse and filled with anger, "What are you doing! Get out of my way!"
Zhao Qingda had obviously been drinking; his face was gloomy and his eyes were bloodshot.
He had a big argument with Wang Juan today.
Wang Juan pressured him to divorce his wife and marry her. Zhao Qingda hesitated, torn between his reluctance to give up Wang Juan's affections and his inability to make a decision, as well as his fear of being scorned by his mother and neighbors.
Wang Juan was so angry that she smashed things, called him a coward, and told him to get out.
Zhao Qingda was seething with anger and nowhere to vent it, so he wandered back to the home he had almost forgotten.
Seeing Wen Xiaoxiao sleeping on the kang (a heated brick bed) with flushed cheeks and slightly disheveled clothes due to drunkenness, a familiar impulse, tinged with conquest and catharsis, overwhelmed everything.
"Get out?" Zhao Qingda sneered, tightening his grip on her arm and reeking of alcohol in her face. "Wen Xiaoxiao, you've grown some guts, huh? You want me to get out? This is my house, and you're my wife! I can do whatever I want with you!"
Wen Xiaoxiao sobered up considerably, leaving only anger and disgust.
She struggled violently, kicking her legs wildly: "Let me go! Zhao Qingda, you're not human! Go find your wild woman! Don't touch me!"
"Wild woman? You still have the nerve to say that?" Zhao Qingda was hit where it hurt. "I'm right here today, what are you going to do about it?" Taking advantage of his physical strength, he easily subdued her struggles. His movements were rough and brutal, with a clear sense of venting his anger.
Wen Xiaoxiao was finally enraged. She grabbed Zhao Qingda's face twice, and blood immediately flowed out.
In Zhao Qingda's view, this was more like the drumbeats before going into battle; the more he struggled, the more excited he became.
Despair instantly gripped Wen Xiaoxiao's throat.
After venting his anger, Zhao Qingda did not get the satisfaction he expected; instead, he became even more agitated.
He casually pulled out a crumpled cigarette box, put one in his mouth, struck a match to light it, and took a deep drag.
Smoke spread through the cold, dimly lit room.
Wen Xiaoxiao suddenly sat up, grabbed a basin from the side of the kang (a heated brick bed), and smashed it against Zhao Qingda's back!
She didn't even bother to put on her clothes, waving her hands and shouting, "I'll fight you to the death! Zhao Qingda! Go to hell!"
Zhao Qingda dodged, looking at the crazed Wen Xiaoxiao with a sense of novelty, and continued to provoke her with his words: "Look at you, what's the difference between you and a madman?"
"I went crazy because of you!" Wen Xiaoxiao pointed a trembling finger at the tip of his nose.
Zhao Qingda glanced at her, his gaze falling on her bare skin, where there were the rough marks he had left behind.
A malicious urge to control welled up inside me.
He flicked off the ash from his cigarette, and then, without Wen Xiaoxiao being on guard, pressed the bright red flame hard against her skin!
A soft, yet teeth-grinding sound.
"Ah—!!!" Wen Xiaoxiao let out a scream that was so shrill it was almost unrecognizable.
He let go and slowly tidied his disheveled clothes.
Wen Xiaoxiao grabbed Zhao Qingda's collar, her eyes red with pain and rage. She gritted her teeth and said, "I'm going to kill you!"
Just then, a loud crash came from the yard! It was the sound of a bicycle being thrown heavily to the ground.
Immediately following was the sound of Zhao Fei's deliberately heavy footsteps, suppressing his anger.
Zhao Qingda paused, listened intently, and a nonchalant sneer appeared on his face.
Zhao Qingda grabbed Wen Xiaoxiao's hands with both hands: "Kill me? Aren't you afraid you won't be able to face your parents after you die?"
Of course he knew who was outside, and he also knew what the commotion meant.
But he didn't care.
Zhao Qingda can do whatever he wants, and even the Heavenly King himself can't stop him!
A defiant and rebellious feeling arose within him.
He leaned down and chuckled maliciously, "Did you hear that? Big Brother's back. What, you expect him to come and save you?"
He glanced at Wen Xiaoxiao from head to toe, "She's far inferior to Wang Juan." With that, he opened the door without a second thought and strode away.
He slammed the courtyard gate shut with a loud bang.
The room was deathly silent.
Wen Xiaoxiao dressed like a puppet, her expression shifting from anger to cold numbness.
The pain and bruises in my body gradually became clearer.
But what hurts more than the physical pain is the utter desolation of the ruins in one's heart.
Zhao Qingda's last words nailed her value and dignity to the pillar of shame.
She pulled the cold blanket next to her over herself, staring blankly at the dark beams.
The tear tracks on her face had long since dried, leaving her skin taut. She stopped crying; she couldn't cry anymore.
In the courtyard, Zhao Fei stood at the door of his house, his fists clenched so tightly that his knuckles turned white, and his face was ashen.
His chest heaved violently, his anger almost bursting out of his skull.
He wanted to rush out and give that beast a good beating!
He wanted to rush in and hug Wen Xiaoxiao to comfort her.
But what status could he have used to get in? That's someone else's wife, someone else's bed!
He was breathing heavily when he suddenly turned around and went back into the house.
He leaned against the door, closed his eyes, but his mind was filled with imagining the torture that Wen Xiaoxiao might suffer.
Zhao Fei sat on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed), chain-smoking cheap cigarettes. His eyes, shrouded in smoke, were unfathomable.
There is also a growing clarity, almost bursting forth with determination.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com