Inside the main room, on an old, cracked square wooden table were placed fermented soybeans, chili peppers, two chipped porcelain bowls filled with noodles, and a brand new small bowl. The three people sat around the table.
Xu Cuifen picked up a piece of chili pepper with her chopsticks and mixed it into a chipped porcelain bowl, then looked at her daughter beside her and said:
"Jiaojiao, what's wrong? Who buries their head in their bowl while eating?"
Upon hearing this, Wen Jiaojiao looked up and inadvertently caught sight of the man's bare upper body.
His handsome face was wild and untamed, and beads of sweat glistened on his long, slender neck, rolling down his sexy collarbone and across his muscular chest. He casually lifted his eyelids to meet her gaze.
Her face flushed again, and she lowered her head to eat her noodles, saying slowly:
"No...it's nothing."
Xu Cuifen frowned and glanced at her, then looked at the man opposite her, and suddenly understood. She laughed loudly, slapping her thigh and saying:
"Is my daughter shy because your brother isn't wearing clothes?"
Wen Jiaojiao hurriedly got up, put down the small porcelain bowl with half a bowl of noodles left, and awkwardly walked into the house under the different gazes of the two men:
"I'm full, you guys take your time eating." You really are Wen Jiaojiao's mother, not giving her any face at all.
She looked like this, something neither of them had ever seen before. Xu Cuifen assumed that she had taken a liking to Wen Zhaoye and was secretly planning to bring them together, but Wen Zhaoye didn't take it seriously and continued to shovel the noodles in his bowl.
Wen Jiaojiao lifted the curtain that led to the wardrobe. On the dressing table inside, there was a Panda brand color television, and next to it were peach shortbread and mango berries placed on newspaper.
The white mosquito net on the bed was brand new and intact, and a Great Wall brand electric fan was placed on a high stool.
She lay on the bed, the electric fan blowing on her, her cheeks burning.
It's so great to be a man these days! He can work shirtless in the fields, while I get yelled at like a dog for wearing a tank top.
Xu Dajun ran away with Wen Jiaojiao, and when word got out, everyone praised Xu Dajun for his ability to insult Wen Jiaojiao without any shame.
The buzzing sound of the electric fan penetrated the curtains and reached the ears of the two people in the main room.
Seeing Wen Zhaoye's suddenly darkened expression, Xu Cuifen gave a stiff, dry laugh to cover it up, saying:
“Last night your dad complained that the room was too cold and insisted on putting the electric fan in Jiaojiao’s room. I couldn’t stop him.”
The electric fan was also something Wen Xiaojian had been pressured into buying by Xu Cuifen.
Wen Zhaoye knew perfectly well that it was just about buying new appliances for the house, and that Wen Xiaojian, being so old, could still afford it.
He asked a friend to help him buy it, and it took a lot of effort. Little did he know that all of this was done for Wen Jiaojiao.
He glanced at Wen Xiaojian, who was dozing off with his eyes closed and idly fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan, and said with a slight look:
"So, can we return it now? It's not cold in the room at midday, and his leg is wrapped in such a thick bandage that sweating could easily cause an infection."
He deliberately raised his voice, speaking so that Wen Jiaojiao could hear. She sighed softly, opened her eyes, and sat up, her voice languid, as always, she knew how to say nice things:
"Okay, okay, I'll take it to Dad right away. I care about him just as much as you do."
As she lifted the curtain, Wen Zhaoye caught a glimpse of the furniture and appliances inside. His expression turned grim again, and he said in a deep voice:
"And is that television something that should stay in your room?"
Upon hearing this, Wen Jiaojiao felt a sudden sense of powerlessness. She raised one hand to lift the curtain, and with the other hand, she gestured for him, staring at him with annoyance, and said:
"Come in, brother, please come inside. If you see anything that doesn't fit, come and move it."
As soon as she finished speaking, Wen Zhaoye strode in, carrying the television with one arm.
With her other hand, she grabbed the peach shortbread and berries, and walked out with a cold expression, leaving the woman dumbfounded.
Wen Jiaojiao swallowed hard.
This guy is so stingy, I can't live like this anymore.
Wen Xiaojian, half asleep, was fanning himself with a palm-leaf fan when he suddenly felt a refreshing breeze.
He opened his eyes and said with dissatisfaction:
"Why are you making this? Hurry up and take it to Jiaojiao. I'm old and my body is more sensitive to cold than heat, so I don't need it."
Wen Zhaoye gave him a disapproving look, then quickly reached out and unplugged the device.
I promptly carried him to my bedside and lay down on the wooden bed without even a mosquito net, enjoying a rare moment of rest.
Xu Cuifen cleared the dishes and went to the kitchen, not daring to say a word openly, planning to whisper sweet nothings in her ear later that night.
Wen Jiaojiao lay defiantly on the bamboo mat. Soon, beads of fragrant sweat appeared on the back of her neck, clinging to her long, dark hair, and her back was damp with the sticky, uncomfortable feeling of her skirt.
Her expression softened, and she looked aggrieved. She said in a gentle voice, "Brother, can the fan shake its head?"
Wen Zhaoye placed one hand behind his head, his sleepiness interrupted. His brow furrowed slightly, and a hint of impatience appeared on his handsome face as he said:
"If you want to stay cool, earn your own money and buy it."
Wen Jiaojiao wiped the sweat from her forehead, stepped out from behind the curtain, and said, still unwilling to give up:
"Okay, go ahead and fan me. I'll go find my dad. He loves me so much, maybe he'll give me a fan and fan me himself."
Her waist-length hair swayed gently as she walked, and the back of her dress was damp, revealing a row of pink bra clasps.
Wen Zhaoye's cold, deep gaze, which had been fixed on her retreating figure, suddenly recoiled as if burned. To prevent her from making a further embarrassment, he said in an unnatural tone:
"stop."
Wen Jiaojiao turned her head at the sound and saw him raise his hand and pat the protruding part of the fan motor. The fan swayed from side to side, making the blue floral curtains sway and dance lightly.
Satisfied, she walked back and lifted the curtain, but no matter what she did, she couldn't get it to the top of the wardrobe. Each time, it would either slide down from the left side or the right side of the wardrobe.
Watching her jump and throw things in a fit of rage, looking utterly dumbfounded, Wen Zhaoye couldn't help but smile.
I guess he was so stupid that he couldn't do anything right, which is why he got dumped.
The floral curtains swept across Wen Jiaojiao's dark hair, causing a few strands to fall messily across her face. Her delicate features showed no sign of distress, but rather added to her overall charm.
She puffed out her fair cheeks, exhaled, heard laughter, glanced at him, and said:
"Come on, if you throw it up there today, I'll take your surname."
Wen Jiaojiao originally took her father's surname, Zhang, but Xu Cuifen changed her surname as the first step in order to make Wen Xiaojian treat her as his own daughter.
Wen Zhaoye wasn't fooled. He stared intently at her face, sensing that something seemed a little different.
He couldn't quite remember what Wen Jiaojiao looked like two years ago, only that once she somehow found out she had received her salary, and reached out to ask for money to buy a dress, her expression gloomy and her tone unusually self-righteous.
In the end, he naturally didn't give it to her, and even Xu Cuifen's pillow talk was useless. In the end, Xu Cuifen had no choice but to pay for it herself.
That would give the impression of an unreasonable shrew, completely unlike the sunny, generous, and polite person she is now.
Could it be that following Xu Dajun has really brought her a good life, even changing her demeanor?
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