Chapter 17 Zhao Qingda Gets Beaten
As dawn broke, Zhao Fei pushed his bicycle back to the entrance of the courtyard house, with soy milk and fried dough sticks hanging on the handlebars, still carrying a chill in the air.
He was about to enter when he bumped into Wen Xiaoxiao, who was about to leave.
The two stopped in their tracks at the same time.
Wen Xiaoxiao clearly planned to go to the tailor shop early.
Her complexion was better than last night, but she still looked tired.
Upon seeing Zhao Fei, a flicker of panic crossed her eyes.
Zhao Fei felt extremely uncomfortable, and his throat was dry.
Last night's scenes kept flashing through my mind uncontrollably.
He opened his mouth: "...Have you eaten?"
Wen Xiaoxiao gently shook her head: "No."
"My body can't handle skipping breakfast," Zhao Fei said almost instinctively.
He stepped aside and said, "Come in first, eat before you leave."
Wen Xiaoxiao hesitated for a moment, but silently followed him back into the courtyard.
In the kitchen, Zhao Fei put down the breakfast, but didn't let her eat any of it.
He washed his hands, scooped out the flour, added water, and kneaded the dough quickly.
Wen Xiaoxiao stood at the door, watching his broad back as he busied himself in front of the stove. Her heart was in turmoil, yet strangely, a sense of comfort arose within her.
On this cold morning, in this suffocating courtyard, someone specially kneaded and rolled dough for her.
Soon, a steaming bowl of hand-pulled noodles was placed in front of her.
A golden poached egg rests on top, sprinkled with chopped green onions and sesame oil.
This was Zhao Fei's cooking; it was the first time she had ever eaten it.
"Eat it while it's hot." Zhao Fei sat opposite her, holding his own soy milk, without looking at her.
Wen Xiaoxiao picked up her chopsticks and began to pick up the noodles.
The taste was very simple, yet it made her eyes slightly warm.
She ate silently, head down, bite by bite, slowly and cleanly.
Neither of them spoke again, except for the occasional soft sound of chopsticks hitting the rim of the bowl and the chirping of sparrows that began to rise outside the window.
A subtle feeling spread through the kitchen; the turmoil of last night seemed to be temporarily contained beneath the warmth of this bowl of noodles.
………………
When Zhao Fei returned from the pig farm in the evening, it was already dark.
He pushed open his door and found a brand-new pair of dark blue cotton gloves stuffed under the door, with fine, thick stitches and soft cotton filling.
There was no note, and no signature.
But he knew who did it.
He picked up the gloves, silently put one on, and the size was just right; warmth instantly enveloped his icy fingers.
He took it off and carefully placed it beside his pillow.
That night, Zhao Qingda returned, reeking of alcohol and cursing.
Upon hearing his commotion, Wen Xiaoxiao immediately got up and hid in the main room.
She bolted the door to the main room from the inside and continued to operate the sewing machine by the dim light of the bulb.
Zhao Qingda, drunk, patted the door of the main room, but heard no response. He then heard the sound of a sewing machine, cursed a few times, and, too lazy to argue, went back to his room and fell asleep.
Wen Xiaoxiao sat in the main room until 2 a.m., until her hands and feet were ice cold, before she packed her things and quietly returned to the east wing.
Zhao Qingda was already snoring loudly.
She carefully lay down on the other side of the kang (a heated brick bed), trying to stay as far away from him as possible.
The next morning, while Zhao Qingda was still asleep, Wen Xiaoxiao got up to go to the shop.
She walked into the main room and immediately saw a net bag next to her sewing machine containing two cans of malted milk powder, a bag of red dates, and two boxes of pastries that looked expensive.
She was stunned for a moment, then realized who had put it there.
A complex mix of warmth and unease welled up inside me.
She quickly picked up the net and hid it in the box where she kept her fabric.
Just as he hid, Zhao Qingda came out.
He glanced around the main room in a daze, his gaze landing on the sewing machine, which was now empty.
But when he got up to urinate last night, he seemed to vaguely remember seeing something there?
He shook his groggy head, not paying much attention.
Wen Xiaoxiao breathed a sigh of relief and hurried to the kitchen to prepare a simple breakfast.
Unexpectedly, Zhao Fei also got up early. He went into the kitchen, saw Wen Xiaoxiao, and his gaze lingered on her face for a moment, as if he wanted to make sure she was alright. Then he naturally took over the work from her hands.
The two worked together silently, cooking porridge, heating up steamed buns, and chopping pickled vegetables.
At the dinner table, Zhao Qingda was eating a steamed bun when he suddenly remembered something and asked Wen Xiaoxiao, "Hey, I think I saw a bag of things next to your sewing machine last night? Who bought it? What did they buy?"
Wen Xiaoxiao's heart tightened, but she maintained a calm expression, even showing a hint of impatience: "I bought it. What's wrong?"
"You bought this?" Zhao Qingda looked her up and down suspiciously. "What did you buy? Let me see."
"Malted milk powder, red dates, pastries. I earned this money myself, can't I buy some nutritional supplements to nourish my body?" Wen Xiaoxiao looked up.
She looked directly at him, her voice not loud, but carrying a do-or-die determination.
“Zhao Qingda, I’ve been married to you for two years, and I’ve rarely spent your money. Most of the household expenses have been covered by my mother and older brother. Now that I can earn my own salary, do I have to report to you when I spend my own money and buy something? Is that any of your business?”
These words, barbed and laced with barbs, exposed Zhao Qingda's usual selfishness and indifference.
Zhao Qingda was stunned for a moment, then became furious.
Especially after being contradicted by his wife in front of Zhao Fei, he immediately lost face.
"You think you've gotten any smarter, huh?" He slammed his chopsticks on the table and jumped up.
"You think you're all that just because you've made a pittance? You dare talk back to me? You deserve a beating!" With that, he raised his hand and slapped her.
Wen Xiaoxiao was prepared and dodged back suddenly, but her cheek was still brushed by the fingertips, and it stung.
Her resentment erupted instantly: "Go ahead and hit me! What else can you do besides hit women? Zhao Qingda, you're a bastard!"
"Fuck your mother!" Zhao Qingda's eyes turned red from the insults, and he completely lost his mind, running around the table to pounce on the attacker.
Just then, a loud "bang" rang out! The door was kicked open.
Zhao Fei rushed in, his face ashen and his eyes terrifying.
He heard everything clearly inside the house and saw Zhao Qingda make a move; his blood rushed to his head instantly.
Without saying a word, he stepped forward and grabbed Zhao Qingda's raised wrist with such force that he almost crushed the bones.
"Zhao Qingda!" Zhao Fei's voice crackled with thunderous fury. "Do you think I'm dead?!"
"Zhao Fei! Let go! It's none of your business how I discipline my wife!" Zhao Qingda struggled and shouted, wincing in pain as his wrist hurt.
"Discipline?" Zhao Fei stared intently at him, veins bulging on his forehead.
"Look what you've done to this family! Your aunt has been so worried about you, Xiaoxiao... your sister-in-law hasn't had a single day of peace since she married into the family! Don't think no one knows about the dirty things you've done outside! And now you dare to lay a hand on us at home? You've completely disgraced the Zhao family!"
Zhao Fei's words hit the nail on the head, both reprimanding Zhao Qingda from the perspective of an elder brother and striking at Zhao Qingda's most vulnerable spot.
Zhao Qingda's imposing manner weakened by three points: "I... what did I do? My husband and I are arguing, what right do you, as the older brother, have to interfere?"
"I just can't stand it!" Zhao Fei abruptly shook off his hand, his chest heaving with rage. "Is there any reason left in this house?! You try touching her again?!"
Zhao Qingda was inwardly frightened, but he refused to back down: "You... what do you want?"
"I want you to get lost!" Zhao Fei stepped forward and kicked Zhao Qingda hard in the back of the knee.
Zhao Qingda knelt down with a thud.
Zhao Fei then kicked him twice more in the shoulder and back, controlling the force so as not to break any bones, but enough to make him unable to get up. "Get out! Don't let me see you causing trouble again!"
Zhao Qingda felt pain, fear, and humiliation, knowing that his cousin was truly angry today.
He dared not be stubborn anymore. He scrambled to his feet, clutching the painful spot, and cursed as he walked out: "Fine! Zhao Fei! You've got guts! You...you just wait!" He rushed out of the yard in a disheveled state, started the car, and drove away as if fleeing.
The courtyard fell silent instantly, with only heavy breathing remaining.
Wen Xiaoxiao was still leaning against the wall, trembling uncontrollably.
It wasn't fear, but rather a kind of exhaustion after excessive emotional release.
Watching Zhao Qingda being driven away by Zhao Fei, watching this usually reserved man unleash his fury for his sake,
Tears welled up again without warning.
She slid down the wall and sat on the floor, hugging her knees, crying her heart out: "When will this end... I can't take it anymore... I really can't take it anymore..."
He crouched down, reached out his hand, and wanted to pat her shoulder, but then stopped, maintaining a proper distance.
Just then, Wen Xiaoxiao suddenly raised her head and looked at him with teary eyes.
Then, as if grasping at a last straw, she lunged forward and cried out, "Big brother..."
That one word, "Big Brother," carried a deep sense of dependence and grievance.
Zhao Fei froze for a moment. He took a deep breath, gently patted her trembling shoulder, and said in a low voice, "Don't cry. It's alright."
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