Chuntao was cutting sorghum leaves in the sorghum field, but her mind was a tangled mess.
Suddenly being grabbed from behind, especially in this dense, curtain-like green thicket, made her whole body shudder with fright.
"Who—"
The smell of old tobacco leaves mixed with sweat baked by the sun instantly enveloped her, and her cry caught in her throat.
"Tao... it's me!"
Since that night, Zhou Zhijun hadn't come looking for her these past few days.
Chuntao was afraid he might have really become useless. When she went back to Li Family Village, she had asked her grandmother for some anti-inflammatory and pain-relief powder and slipped it to him when no one was around.
But she was also afraid that once his wounds healed, he'd forget the pain and bully her even more aggressively.
This conflicting feeling made her lose her appetite and sleep.
Zhou Zhijun held her too tightly. His hard chest dug painfully into her back, and she felt her waist was about to be snapped.
"You're hurting me, let go!" Chuntao's face flushed crimson, but her voice was soft as cotton, carrying a pleading, tearful tone.
She didn't dare struggle too hard, afraid that if she pushed him too far, this man would do something even more "shameless."
But Zhou Zhijun wouldn't loosen his grip; instead, he held her tighter. Through two layers of coarse cloth clothing, Chuntao could feel the strength in his body.
So he was fine! Chuntao's heart sank.
The thought of the promise he had forced her to fulfill before made her face instantly burn hot, and her hands, clutching her clothes, trembled.
Zhou Zhijun bent down close to her ear, his voice low and hoarse, "That powder really worked. I know you care about me!"
"No, I was afraid..." Chuntao quickly retorted, but swallowed her words halfway.
She was afraid that if he were truly crippled, she'd feel guilty for a lifetime.
Zhou Zhijun took her earlobe into his mouth, his voice muffled and unsettling, "Afraid of what? Afraid I'd be useless, and you'd still have to lie in an empty bed..."
It was the season for cutting sorghum leaves. The village women and girls were everywhere, gathering leaves, and distant laughter and chatter could still be heard.
Chuntao's heart leaped into her throat, tears welling in her eyes. "Let me go! Someone might see!"
"So what if they see? I'm a bachelor, you're a young wife with an empty bed. What's there to fear?"
Chuntao trembled even more violently. She did have an empty bed, but she was also Wang Jieshi's properly wedded wife.
If someone really saw them, she'd become the despised "loose woman," and she wouldn't be able to live in the village anymore!
But she didn't dare curse him too harshly or struggle too fiercely. She could only plead with a tearful voice, "You're not afraid, but I am! Please, let me go..."
Zhou Zhijun turned her body around and pulled her tightly into his embrace. "Tao, I think of you every day, even in my dreams... I want..."
"Let go..." she struggled, tears brimming in her eyes, ready to fall.
"I beg you, don't do this... I'm scared..."
"Don't be scared. I won't... do it. I just want..." As he spoke, he impatiently tore at her clothes.
Last time in the melon field, her little undershirt had been torn by him. Chuntao had already sewn it back up with thread.
Now, with this hasty tug, the freshly mended seam ripped open again with a rip, and the exposed skin stung from being scraped by the sorghum leaves.
Chuntao's tears gushed out. She could no longer hold back and began to sob aloud.
Her suppressed weeping mingled with the man's heavy panting, tangling in the sweltering air into a knotted mess.
The wind picked up, rustling the sorghum stalks, but it couldn't disperse this suffocating, sticky heat.
Chuntao's breathing grew rapid; she felt she might suffocate the next second.
Her whole body shook as if sieving grain, even her heart quivering.
"What if someone comes in... let go... let go!"
Seeing he had no intention of releasing her, Chuntao finally dared to pound his back with a bit more force, and her crying grew a little louder.
"Let me go, Zhou Zhijun, you beast..." She was in pain and terrified, yet still didn't dare raise her voice, only suppressing her sobs.
Between pants, the man coldly squeezed out two words: "Be obedient..."
He seemed addicted to her, holding on and refusing to let go, wishing he could crush her into his very bones and blood.
Chuntao wept and pleaded until she was almost out of breath from crying. Only then did he reluctantly release her, his desire not fully sated.
He reached out to adjust her torn undershirt and clumsily helped button her up, his tone somewhat placating. "I'll buy you a new bodice tomorrow!"
"I don't want it!" Chuntao's sobs hadn't subsided. She turned her face away.
The little guilt she had felt towards him before was now completely washed away by this unreasonable, bullying act.
But no matter how much she hated him, she only dared curse him in her heart, not aloud. She couldn't afford to provoke Zhou Zhijun, a genuine, strong farmer.
Zhou Zhijun extended his rough, large hands, cupped her small face, and gently stroked the corner of her eye with his thumb, wiping away the flowing tears.
Chuntao wanted to pull away, but her shoulders seemed frozen stiff. She could only tightly shut her eyes, her trembling eyelashes still holding teardrops, even her breathing cautious.
His warm lips pressed against hers again. "Don't cry. It's because I fancy you.
A woman I don't fancy, even if she stood naked in front of me, I wouldn't lift a finger!"
Finished, he bent down, picked up the scattered sorghum leaves from the ground, bundled them, and handed them to her. "Silly girl, don't work so hard. Rest when you're tired! I'm leaving!"
Chuntao finally felt a wave of relief in her heart, but still didn't dare look up.
But he had only taken two steps when he turned back. "Tao, the men in the village are all like hungry wolves. Go home quickly!"
Chuntao sneered inwardly; he was the hungriest wolf of all.
But she said nothing, only kept her head down and clenched the sorghum leaves in her hand. She knew arguing with someone like him was useless.
Listening to his footsteps fade away, Chuntao's legs gave way, and she squatted on the ground.
How she had longed for Wang Jieshi to come back before!
She thought, as long as he returned, even if they couldn't be proper husband and wife in that way, at least others wouldn't dare bully her so brazenly.
But who could have imagined Wang Jieshi would become useless?
He couldn't do anything. He couldn't shelter her from the wind, let alone shield her from the rain.
She was still like a withered leaf swept up by a cold wind, spinning alone in the gusts, left to be wrapped by rain and snow, pressed into the muddy ground, trampled at will, without even the strength to resist.
She wrapped her arms tightly around her knees, buried her face in them, her thin shoulders shaking with suppressed sobs. The crying was stifled in her throat, only allowing muffled whimpers.
When would such days ever end? Would her whole life be like this—enduring, grinding on?
After a long while, Chuntao slowly stood up, wiped away her tears, gritted her teeth, hoisted a large bundle of sorghum leaves onto her shoulder, and trudged step by step towards the edge of the field.
The pain in her chest remained; the grievance and fear in her heart hadn't dispersed. But life had to go on. She could only endure.
Just as she reached the field's edge, she saw Zhou Pandi leading an ox over. From afar, she called out, "Sister-in-law Chuntao, you've gathered so many sorghum leaves!"
Chuntao's heart tightened. She gave a vague acknowledgment, not daring to look at Zhou Pandi.
As they drew near, Zhou Pandi's eyes fixed intently on her face, as if searching for something. "Sister-in-law Chuntao, have you been crying?"
Chuntao's heart skipped half a beat, and her palms grew sweaty. She hurriedly said, "No, I got scratched by the sorghum leaves. It stings a bit."
Zhou Pandi, seeing her so nervous she didn't dare look up, felt even more certain of her suspicion. "Oh, you'd better be more careful next time!"
Chuntao didn't dare say another word. She gave a hurried nod, hoisted the sorghum leaves higher on her shoulder, and quickened her pace, afraid that one more sentence would give her away.
She knew that if this got out, she was finished. So no matter how bitter or resentful she felt inside, she had to endure it, had to pretend nothing had ever happened.
Chuntao unloaded the sorghum leaves in the yard and went to boil water in the kitchen.
Faintly, she heard Liu Cuilan's cursing from outside. Her heart sank, and she immediately bowed her head, even softening her breath.
She didn't know what would happen next. She could only clutch the bowl in her hand tightly, telling herself over and over in her heart, endure it, just endure it a little longer. This too shall pass.
