Someone tripped her, and her round, plump body lurched forward, tumbling amidst a chorus of laughter, landing face-first like a dog eating dirt.
Her forehead smashed heavily against the hard ground with a crisp "thud," instantly swelling into a large, red lump.
The things she had clutched tightly in her palms scattered everywhere—wild hawthorns, their skins broken and pulp exposed, rolling all over the place.
She grimaced in pain, baring her teeth, yet still clumsily struggled to get up. Like a dog, she knelt on the ground, picking those wild hawthorns one by one from the dusty ground near the villagers' feet. She didn't care about the dirt clinging to them—she just grabbed them into her palms, grinning foolishly, as if holding the greatest treasure in the world.
The villagers nearby pointed and whispered:
"Who knows what wicked deeds the Yang family ancestors did to deserve such a foolish daughter? A girl in her teens, yet her mind's not even as developed as a five-year-old. Can't even speak properly, and needs her mother to help with eating, drinking, and relieving herself. Can't even manage to scare birds away from the threshing ground. All she does is wander around the village aimlessly. Heard that just a few nights ago, she nearly fell into the cesspit behind the village… And now, who knows where she got those rotten hawthorns from? Look at that silly face of hers, holding them like some precious treasure!"
"Exactly. It's not just that she's stupid, she's greedy too. The amount of food she eats is more than a grown man's share. Just look at her—how fat she's gotten!"
"The Yang family has over a dozen mouths to feed with just one pot of food. I heard her parents always give up their share just to fill her belly. They just had lunch not long ago, and now she's hungry again? That pile of wild hawthorns won't be enough to kill her with overeating!"
At the edge of the crowd stood Mu Zichuan, watching the filthy, chubby girl sitting on the hard dirt in the center. Her coarse cloth clothes were so dirty they'd long lost any original color, her messy hair like a bird's nest, with bits of leaves and straw tangled in it.
She probably crawled under someone's stove again—her round, dirt-smudged face streaked with snot and drool. Between the folds of fat, her eyes were dull and vacant.
Mu Zichuan's handsome features were now tightly knit with disgust, his thick brows furrowing.
He gripped the blue cotton schoolbag his mother had sewn for him, quietly edging backward.
Inside the bag were a few books—the Four Books and Five Classics. It was the end of the month, and at the end of every month, the village school would close for two days. With the autumn harvest season underway, the teacher had gone home to help with the farming, so school was closed for two days.
He really hadn't wanted to pass this way—worried he might run into her. But this hard dirt road was the only path into the village.
It was autumn, with golden rice fields on both sides of the road. A gust of autumn wind swept past, stirring waves of gold under the sunlight.
Then someone sharp-eyed suddenly noticed him.
"Hey, Fatty, look who's here!"
A terrible premonition surged in Mu Zichuan's heart. He turned, ready to run, but someone wicked reached out and yanked him into the crowd, shoving him right in front of her.
"... Hee hee… husband…"
A flicker of light seemed to ignite in her dull eyes. With a loud "too", she spat out the half-chewed hawthorn pieces from her mouth and scrambled excitedly to her feet.
Before he could even steady himself, her plump body lunged at him. His vision darkened, and with a strong shove, he was knocked flat onto the ground.
The back of his head slammed against the earth, making stars dance before his eyes. Her thick, cushion-like backside landed squarely on his chest, like a mountain collapsing—he nearly couldn't catch his breath.
"Smooch!"
A loud, wet sound landed on his face. He instinctively raised his hand to wipe his cheek, only to find it sticky and wet—it was all her drool. Nausea surged violently in his stomach.
She sat astride him, happily waving her arms like a child, making incoherent, slurred sounds:
"Hus… band…"
"Sweet… for you… to eat…"
A small, pitch-black hand held out a handful of wild hawthorn just picked up from the dusty ground and offered it to him. She grinned at him, revealing a mouth full of yellow teeth, and the stench of her breath nearly made him faint on the spot.
Seeing that he didn't open his mouth to accept the hawthorn she offered, she gave a silly laugh and suddenly grabbed his sky-blue schoolbag from his side.
Rip—
The strap of his brand-new schoolbag broke, but she didn't care. She dumped out all the books and papers from inside, then started stuffing those dusty wild hawthorn fruits into the bag, one by one…
The villagers standing around saw what was happening and all burst into laughter.
"So that's what's going on—turns out Fatty Girl's been waiting here by the roadside for the young master to come home from school! This fool can't even eat, drink, or take a piss without her mother helping, yet she knows how to care for her future husband, hahaha, what a hopeless little fool!"
"Mu Zichuan, you lucky little brat. Just look at that fiancée your family arranged for you—can't even wait to get you in bed before the wedding!"
"We can't even beg half a hawthorn from her, but your little wife treasures you so much she's willing to give you the whole lot! Hurry up and eat, fill yourself up so you've got the strength for the wedding night!"
"I say forget about taking that scholar exam of yours. Better hurry up and marry Fatty Girl! Look at those broad shoulders, wide waist, and big arse—good luck for a family. Who knows, she might bring you a son as soon as she sets foot in your Mu household…"
"…"
Mu Zichuan's handsome face flushed bright red. He didn't know where the strength came from, but he violently shoved Fatty Girl, who was still straddling him while busily stuffing wild hawthorn into his schoolbag, off him and onto the ground.
"Wah—"
She toppled over with a thud, the ground trembling slightly beneath her weight. Like a flipped-over turtle, she lay there on her back, flailing her limbs, and burst into loud wails.
He scrambled to his feet, too flustered to brush the dirt off himself. Grabbing the schoolbag from her short, filthy black fingers, he yanked it back forcefully.
"Still crying? You idiot! If you touch my stuff again, I'll beat you to death!"
He roared at her furiously.
Seeing his flushed, distorted face full of rage, she seemed to sense his anger and didn't dare cry anymore. She pouted and looked at him timidly.
Seeing that he was ignoring her, she stuffed a dirty hawthorn into her mouth, then opened her lips into a toothy, ingratiating smile at him. A trail of crystal-clear drool slid from her filthy chin down into the grime on her neck.
It would've been better if she didn't smile—when she did, she looked utterly, hopelessly stupid!
His whole body trembled with rage.
No matter how diligently he studied at the academy, no matter how often the teacher praised him or how much his classmates admired him—
As long as he thought of the childhood betrothal his family had arranged with her, the future ahead felt utterly bleak!
His slender, bony fingers pinched her dirty cheek tightly as he glared at her with burning hatred, leaning in to whisper through gritted teeth so that only the two of them could hear:
"Stop haunting me like a ghost. I'm begging you, okay? If—if you care about me… go die. Go throw yourself in that pond and die. Set me free. Maybe then, I might remember you for the rest of my life!"
(End of chapter)