Shen Yan returned to the room alone, neatly folded his hands on the quilt, and stared intently at the ceiling.
Half an hour passed.
An hour passed.
…
Shen Yan stared until his eyes ached, but he couldn't even smell a fart from Meng Qingluan, let alone see her.
His usually calm and composed expression was on the verge of collapse; this was the second time he had lost his composure tonight.
What exactly is Meng Qingluan trying to do?
Just as Shen Yan was about to get up, his ears twitched, and he heard Meng Qingluan's footsteps. He quickly lay back down and pretended to be asleep.
Meng Qingluan shaped the stove and baked it until it was half-dry. After washing off the mud on her body, she climbed into the house. She felt that her hands were so sore that they didn't even feel like her own.
Looking at Chen Yan, who was sleeping soundly on the bed, Meng Qingluan felt a pang of resentment.
Today she finally understood how the rough-around-the-edges male protagonist felt after a long day, only to find a useless vase lying at home!
I want to slap him to death!
But…
She dared not...
Dragging his weary body, he approached Chen Yan's side.
As Shen Yan heard the approaching footsteps, his fingertips twitched slightly, and the dagger hidden in the quilt pressed tightly against his waist and abdomen.
Meng Qingluan complained in a low voice:
"You slept soundly, while I worked myself to the bone all day."
While complaining, Meng Qingluan couldn't help but scrutinize Shen Yan's face.
To be honest, she did look in the mirror when she transmigrated, and the original owner of this body looked quite similar to her.
She had an oval face, almond-shaped eyes that were as clear as autumn water, and cheeks that were thin from years of hunger and cold. She had a childlike appearance but also a faint, sickly beauty.
It's actually just some malnutrition...
To be fair, she is a real beauty, the kind who could become a great beauty as she grows up.
However, compared to Shen Yan, she is somewhat less charming. This person can be described as having an androgynous beauty, keeping people at a distance while also possessing a touch of gentleness.
It's hard to imagine that this person will one day become the top Grand Secretary, second only to the emperor.
He could wield a pen to discuss matters of state, and ride a horse to conquer all directions.
With such strength, even in male-oriented novels, he would definitely be the protagonist of a classic underdog-to-hero story, a story of a loser's triumph and a satisfying comeback.
Thinking of this, Meng Qingluan felt a pang of jealousy. Such a beautiful sister, they could hold hands and cuddle, but couldn't kiss or go in and out of each other's arms.
Waaah.
Meng Qingluan couldn't help but reach out and poke Chen Yan's cheek, then quickly pulled her hand back.
She glanced at Chen Yan quietly, and seeing that he was really fast asleep, she climbed into bed with peace of mind and prepared to sleep.
Although Shen Yan was good-looking, she hadn't forgotten that this person had slit her own throat just the day before; he was definitely a ruthless person.
We can't afford to mess with them.
About the time it takes for an incense stick to burn, the only sound in the room was the whistling of the autumn wind outside. The man, who should have been fast asleep, opened his eyes.
His eyes were brimming with anger, and a hint of shame and indignation.
This female hooligan actually touched his face?
Touching it is one thing, but to say it's uncomfortable to the touch?
Shen Yan glanced coldly at Meng Qingluan, who was sleeping soundly, and raised his hand to touch his cheek in disbelief.
It's a bit rough to the touch.
"..."
Meng Qingluan woke up unusually early today, her eyes half-closed as she drifted to the kitchen and touched the earthen stove.
Great, it's dried out, only slightly damp, just right for starting a fire inside, with a pot on top.
She made an extra pot of offal soup last night when she cooked dinner, which used up all the offal she bought yesterday.
On her first day selling offal, she wasn't sure if people in ancient times would actually accept it.
After all, there's no famine right now, and people aren't short of food.
It's not available now, but who knows what will happen in six months.
Meng Qingluan took out a few pieces of charcoal and put them in the earthen stove. She went out to see if there was anyone driving an oxcart; she needed to borrow a small cart.
After all, is it appropriate for someone of her small stature to carry a large earthen stove and a large iron pot for dozens of miles?
When Meng Qingluan went out, it was not yet fully light; only the pale light of dawn was visible.
Meng Qingluan rushed to the village chief's house and pounded on the door.
Who is it?
A woman's voice came from inside the house, and Meng Qingluan guessed that it must be the village chief's wife.
"It's me, Meng Qingluan."
"..."
After Meng Qingluan finished answering, the air fell silent for a moment. She pressed her face against the door and heard the village chief's wife muttering inside.
"What's she doing here? Maybe we shouldn't open the door?"
"Don't go out, I'll go out and open the door to ask what's wrong."
The village chief was still snuggled in bed taking a nap, but as soon as he heard that it was Meng Qingluan who had come, he jumped off the kang (a heated brick bed), got dressed, and went outside.
Meng Qingluan didn't have to wait long before the village chief hurriedly opened the door.
"Why are you here again?"
The village chief lowered his voice and questioned Meng Qingluan, then looked back to see if his wife had followed him out of the house.
Meng Qingluan took two steps back and pouted.
"I've come to borrow something from you."
"What?" The village chief looked at her warily. "I'm out of money. I gave you all the silver I had on me yesterday."
Meng Qingluan put on a stern face, placing one hand on the village chief's shoulder.
"Village Chief, can you please stop being so vulgar? Do you think I'm the kind of person who talks about money all the time?"
"Talking about money can damage relationships?"
The village chief looked at her suspiciously. "Really?"
Meng Qingluan nodded, then glanced into the courtyard and saw a small cart parked in the center.
A bad feeling suddenly rose in the village chief's heart.
Sure enough, the next second, Meng Qingluan stepped forward, pointed to the small cart placed inside the room, and said with a grin.
"Village chief, can I borrow your cart for a day?"
Without a second thought, the village chief refused, saying, "No, what if you break it because you're too rough?"
Meng Qingluan was not annoyed, but her gaze was deep and meaningful as she tiptoed to look inside the room.
"Hey, I think I just heard the old lady's voice? I haven't seen her in a long time, I should go in and say hello to her."
As Meng Qingluan spoke, she tried to push past the village chief and force her way in.
The village chief hurriedly pulled Meng Qingluan back, his face flushed with anxiety.
"Borrow! Borrow!"
Meng Qingluan stood at the door, not only borrowing the trolley but also going a step further by asking the village chief to personally push it out for her.
The village chief's face was as black as charcoal, and he gave repeated instructions in a very impatient manner.
"You must bring it to me tonight, or I'll have to pay for it if it gets damaged."
"Okay." Meng Qingluan pushed the stroller and ran off.
The village chief's wife saw him borrow the cart from inside the house and asked him something, somewhat displeased.
"Why are you lending it to her? She's a female hooligan. What if she and Wednesday's group damage the car?"
The village chief was already unhappy, and when asked, he immediately bristled and gave an annoyed answer.
"If you break it, you break it. Why are you being so fussy?"
The village chief's wife gritted her teeth and slapped him on the head, her arm muscles bulging.
"I think you're itching for a beating because I haven't disciplined you for days, you old codger?"
"..."
Meng Qingluan laboriously lifted the small earthen stove onto the cart, and after preparing everything, she realized…
It can't be pushed...
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