Wen Zhaoye's face suddenly darkened, and a deep voice said:
"Zhaoye, your aunt is probably still weeding in the field. You should cook dinner first."
Wen Jiaojiao was used to providing emotional value; having gotten a good deal, she would coax her, saying:
"I'm so sorry to trouble you again, brother. You've really worked so hard; you're so capable inside and out. I admire you from the bottom of my heart."
"I don't know which girl will be lucky enough to marry you this year, so try your best to get married this year and let my dad hold his grandson next year."
Wen Zhaoye suddenly thought she could be a salesperson; with that mouth, her annual sales would probably circle the earth three times.
He gritted his teeth, then his handsome face softened, and he chuckled softly:
"I'll cook, you go feed the pigs. If you can't even do that, you're worse than a pig."
Wen Jiaojiao paused for a few seconds, and when she didn't hear Wen Xiaojian speak, she knew she couldn't go too far, so she straightened her back and walked over.
The pigsty floor was covered in mud, the fat pigs were panting in the shade, mosquitoes and flies were buzzing and circling, and the swill bucket at the door was so smeared that its original color was no longer visible.
Seeing her pinching her nose and staring wide-eyed at the slop bucket, Wen Zhaoye crossed his arms and casually walked over, saying:
"Yes, use this bucket. Hurry up and get started. These two pigs are worth much more than you. If they're too thin from hunger, they won't fetch a good price."
Wen Jiaojiao took two steps away from the pigsty, released her grip on his nose, and gazed at him with bright, sparkling eyes, saying:
"Brother, I've never fed pigs before. Can you demonstrate for me first? I really admire men who can feed pigs. I usually don't argue with men like that."
Wen Zhaoye stood at the kitchen door:
"You wish! You're always up to no good."
Wen Jiaojiao was at a loss. Her gaze fell on the lettuce leaves in the corner of the fenced yard. Just as she picked them up to throw them into the pigpen, she heard a woman's voice behind her:
"Jiaojiao, pigs are prone to diarrhea from eating so many raw lettuce leaves. It would be better to boil them in water with some salt."
Wen Jiaojiao frowned and turned around, only to see a thin woman standing outside the fence.
She had dark skin, bright eyes, and her frizzy hair was neatly combed.
Her feet, clad in crystal sandals, were also covered with flesh-colored short stockings. The clean skirt, though wrinkled, was clearly something she'd kept hidden away and rarely wore.
Wen Jiaojiao placed the lettuce leaves on the ground and asked in confusion, "Who are you?"
The woman opened the gate on her own, stole a glance at Wen Zhaoye leaning against the kitchen doorway, her heart skipped a beat, then looked at Wen Jiaojiao and chuckled softly:
"Jiaojiao, don't you remember me? I'm Zhang Xiaofang. We're cousins, and we've been playing together since we were little."
In Dashi Village, there are two surnames: Zhang, which is the surname of Wen Jiaojiao's biological father, and Wen. They live close to each other.
However, Wen Jiaojiao didn't recognize the person in front of her at all. But judging from her attire and the way she kept glancing at Wen Zhaoye, she knew who she was after.
With the mindset that it's easy to get away with nice words, she smiled slightly and said:
"Oh, cousin, it's been two years since I last saw you. You've become so beautiful that I didn't recognize you at first."
As soon as she finished speaking, Wen Zhaoye and Zhang Xiaofang stared at her in astonishment, making Wen Jiaojiao feel uneasy. She said insecurely:
"Cousin? What's wrong?"
"Jiaojiao, you're my cousin." Zhang Xiaofang pointed to her temple, unsure, "Are you... injured in the head?"
Who the hell could tell that?
Wen Jiaojiao swallowed nervously, enduring Wen Zhaoye's probing gaze.
She glanced at Zhang Xiaofang's dark face, which looked at least five years older than her, and then, quick-witted, said sarcastically:
"How could I not recognize you? In fact, I recognized you the moment you appeared at the gate of the courtyard."
"So you've liked my brother for a long time, and this time you're here for him again, right? I can't even be bothered to call you out."
The doubts in Wen Zhaoye's heart suddenly dissipated, and she calmly withdrew her gaze, feeling that this was in line with her personality.
He acts impulsively and makes trouble without any regard for others' feelings, and Zhang Xiaofang has indeed liked him for more than just a year or two.
Two blushes appeared on Zhang Xiaofang's dark face. She glanced shyly at Wen Zhaoye, then lowered her head and whispered:
"Jiaojiao, I didn't, don't talk nonsense."
Looking at her like this, Wen Jiaojiao suddenly thought of something, and said with a smile:
"Actually, my brother likes capable and hardworking people. If someone can feed pigs well, that's absolutely perfect for him."
"Then they'd get married this year, have a baby next year, two in three years, three in five, and eight in ten."
Wen Zhaoye's face fell, and he turned and went into the kitchen, saying irritably:
"If you want lunch, shut up and stop trying to be clever."
Zhang Xiaofang naturally knew that Wen Jiaojiao wanted her to help with chores, but she also felt that Wen Jiaojiao's words made sense.
After all, no one in the countryside dislikes someone who is hardworking and capable. She hadn't run into Wen Zhaoye in the fields during the busy farming season before, so today was a good opportunity for her to show off.
She picked up the lettuce leaves from the ground and walked into the kitchen, saying, "Jiaojiao, how about I teach you how to make pig feed?"
Wen Jiaojiao felt a tightness on her back, so she tied her hair into a loose high ponytail and followed behind, showering him with compliments as if they were free:
"Tsk tsk, Xiaofang is so hardworking and kind-hearted. Whoever marries her will be incredibly lucky. Such a good girl is truly rare."
Zhang Xiaofang walked shyly into the kitchen and saw Wen Zhaoye sitting behind the stove adding firewood.
The bright yellow firelight flickered on his fair and handsome face. His short-sleeved white shirt was tucked into his wide-leg jeans, and with each movement, the strong lines of his broad shoulders and back were visible.
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