Zhou Zhijun had been knocked quite hard by Chuntao's blow. Fortunately, he had a sturdy, resilient build. If it were anyone else, they might have been laid up for ten days to a fortnight.
Although no bones or tendons were injured, a dull, dragging ache in his lower abdomen lingered. Two mu of land that should have been plowed in a single day ended up taking him a day and a half to finish.
In the afternoon, as the sun began to set in the west, he shouldered his hoe again to loosen the hard, unplowed clumps at the edges of the field. He worked until dusk was falling before dragging his weary body home.
For the convenience of plowing, the melon shed at the edge of the field had been dismantled early on, so Chuntao had to move back home to live.
Wang Xiaoming saw her return and said, "Sis-in-law, you sleep in my room. I'll squeeze in with my brother again."
No sooner had these words fallen than Liu Cuilan was displeased. Planting her hands on her hips, she clamored, "Haven't you had enough of avoiding your duties for a month? A husband and wife sleeping in separate rooms—is that still a married couple?"
Wang Xiaoming shot her a cold glance, his voice somewhat hoarse. "My sis-in-law was watching the melon field, worrying day and night, suffering a lot. How is that avoiding duties?"
Liu Cuilan feared nothing and no one, but she was intimidated by Wang Xiaoming's stubborn streak. She muttered, "Sooner or later, you have to sleep together. Can you stand in for her forever?"
Ignoring Liu Cuilan, Wang Xiaoming continued to sleep with Wang Jieshi. Chuntao slept in Wang Xiaoming's room, and Wang Xiaohong went to sleep at Zhou Hongxia's house again.
Lying in bed, Chuntao replayed the last four years of her life in her mind like a film.
To secure a bride for her brother in a marriage exchange, she had married Wang Jieshi. But this man had no regard for her at all. On their wedding night, without even touching her, he ran off with another woman.
She had guarded an empty room for four years. It was like a mute drinking bitter herbal soup—the grievances and bitterness filling her heart were unspeakable, so she could only swallow them down hard.
She had thought she would just endure in this boundless darkness for the rest of her life, but then Zhou Zhijun barged into her life.
His bullying carried humiliation, making her grit her teeth in hatred. Yet, mixed in with that humiliation was an indescribable pity and warmth, letting her taste a trace of human warmth in her icy-cold days.
She couldn't hate him completely, nor could she accept him with ease.
She was a traditional, conservative woman. Even though her husband had abandoned her on their wedding night, even though he was now a cripple, she couldn't do anything scandalous.
But that little yearning in her heart was like grass sprouts in spring; once they stirred, they couldn't be suppressed.
Zhou Zhijun's concerned gaze, his strong arms, his words that made her blush and her heart race—they would always involuntarily surface, churning her emotions into turmoil.
She cursed herself in her heart over and over for being shameless, but the two strands of feeling were like ropes twisted together, winding tighter and tighter, constricting her heart until it ached.
As she thought, tears streamed down from the corners of her eyes, soaking two large patches on the pillow.
That night, Chuntao had a shameful dream.
In the dream, the one bowing with her at the wedding ceremony wasn't Wang Jieshi, but Zhou Zhijun.
He carried her into the bridal chamber, gently laid her on the bed spread with red sheets, and tenderly undressed her...
It was a joy she had never tasted before. In the dream, she was the happiest woman in the world.
But upon waking, only empty coldness surrounded her. Thinking of the scenes from the dream, her face burned hot enough to fry pancakes.
They say day's thoughts become night's dreams. She clearly resisted Zhou Zhijun's advances and had never deliberately thought of such things. How could she have such a dream?
Another sleepless night passed. At the first crow of the rooster, Chuntao got up, repeating yesterday's busywork like a machine.
Two days later, Wang Xiaoming returned to school for the new term. Liu Cuilan began pressuring Chuntao to share a room with Wang Jieshi again. "Husband and wife not sharing a room—what will people think if it gets out? They'll point fingers at our backs!"
Wang Jieshi, filled with guilt towards Chuntao and knowing he owed her too much, and now being a cripple himself, spoke up to dissuade her. "Mother, I'm fine sleeping alone. Don't force her."
Liu Cuilan snorted coldly, pointing at Wang Jieshi's nose and scolding, "I'm forcing her? She's your wife! Who should she sleep with if not you?
You only lost a leg, it's not like you're useless in that department!
If people find out, you might not mind the shame, but I do!"
Villagers had long been gossiping privately that Wang Jieshi was no longer a man, but Liu Cuilan stubbornly refused to admit it, insisting on forcing the two to share a room to save face.
Seeing Chuntao wouldn't relent, Liu Cuilan resorted to her trump card. "Li Chuntao, if you don't sleep in the same room as Jieshi today, tomorrow I'll go to Lijia Village and bring Lanhua back!
You can go back to your Lijia Village, and from then on we'll go our separate ways!"
She understood all too clearly: the reason Chuntao had endured humiliation and swallowed her anger for these four years was precisely because she feared Liu Cuilan would bring Wang Lanhua back, breaking up her brother's family.
These words hit Chuntao's weak spot. She wasn't afraid of village gossip, but she was terrified of Liu Cuilan causing a scene in Lijia Village.
Her grandmother was old and couldn't withstand anger; Wang Lanhua was about to give birth. If something happened to the baby because of this, all the blame would fall on her head.
With no other choice, Chuntao could only nod in agreement.
When she walked into the inner room, she saw a worn-out straw mat spread on the floor, with Wang Jieshi lying on it.
He looked up at Chuntao, then pointed to the wooden plank bed beside him, gesturing for her to sleep there.
At first, Chuntao had hated Wang Jieshi, hated him for making her unable to hold her head high. But as time passed, that hatred had worn away, leaving only numbness.
Faced with this cautious consideration of his, Chuntao felt not a single ripple in her heart. Silently, she walked to the bed and lay down.
Having slept alone in a room for four years, now with a "stranger" added, Chuntao couldn't fall asleep no matter what.
She heard Wang Jieshi struggle to get up in the middle of the night to use the outhouse, hissing in pain, but she never got up to help him.
For several nights in a row, Chuntao lay awake until dawn, her dark circles growing heavier.
One day, Chuntao and Wang Xiaohong went to the field together to pick sesame leaves. Wang Xiaohong, noticing Chuntao's haggard appearance, couldn't help but speak up.
"Sis-in-law, you haven't been sleeping well these past few days, have you? I know you're suffering inside, but things have come to this... we can only look forward. Life still has to go on day by day, right?"
As she said this, Wang Xiaohong's own heart felt uneasy. She thought, if this were happening to her, she would have long since dropped everything and left.
But seeing her brother's condition, she felt she had to offer Chuntao this advice.
Chuntao didn't speak, just bit her lip hard, swallowing back the bitterness filling her heart.
"Sister Xiaohong, Sis-in-law Chuntao, you're picking sesame leaves too?"
Zhou Pandi walked over from the opposite field ridge, carrying a large bundle of sorghum leaves, a smile plastered on her face.
"Hmm," Wang Xiaohong merely responded faintly, saying no more.
She genuinely disliked Zhou Pandi from the bottom of her heart. There wasn't any specific reason; it was just intuition telling her this person wasn't genuine.
These past few days, Zhou Pandi had been secretly watching Zhou Zhijun and Li Chuntao, but hadn't noticed anything.
She considered changing tactics, trying to wheedle information out of Wang Xiaohong, but Wang Xiaohong wasn't a fool either, not so easily fooled.
One day, seeing Wang Xiaohong cutting grass alone in the field, she sidled up. "Xiaohong, is your brother Jieshi's health any better?"
Wang Xiaohong didn't stop her sickle, nor did she lift her eyelids, simply couldn't be bothered to reply.
Zhou Pandi, unwilling to give up, smiled and said again, "Brother Jieshi has been gone for so many days, but he's finally back.
If you ask me, you might just become an aunt next year. Sister-in-law Chuntao is a fine-looking woman, so her baby is sure to be pretty too!"
These words grated on Wang Xiaohong's ears. She abruptly stopped her work, picked up her straw basket, and walked away.
Chuntao was cutting sorghum leaves in the sorghum field, her mind a tangled mess.
The faces of Wang Jieshi and Zhou Zhijun kept alternating in her thoughts, impossible to shake.
One was her husband in name, a heavy responsibility she had to shoulder—for Grandma, for her brother.
The other was a man she both resented and felt a lingering attachment toward. That hidden flutter in her heart was like a stream under the thin ice of early spring, already quietly stirring.
She couldn't free herself from the mess before her, nor did she have the courage to take that step. All she could do was struggle desperately in this mire, sinking deeper and deeper.
Suddenly, her body stiffened. A pair of tough, burly arms unexpectedly wrapped tightly around her from behind...
