Rebirth in Famine: She Thrives by Lucky Space

Chapter 2 - 2 is still the same loser

New book ”Reborn: Not Your Perfect Wife” seeking collection!

Looking at this dilapidated courtyard, Jiang Xinyu kept comforting herself, building inner resolve—it’s nothing, really nothing. Her husband’s, how could it be nothing?

How low is this low house? By estimation, it’s not even two meters tall. The thatch roof seemed crooked as if ready to fall apart at any moment.

Standing in the courtyard for a while, only when shouting came from next door did she relent and step into the house.

Pushing open the door, this is the main room, with two stoves, and a potless hearth, though quite clean. Relying on memory, she entered the west room, which was her bedroom.

There was only a rolled-up quilt on the pitch-black kang mat. Because of the small, straw-paper-pasted window, it was extremely dark inside. She sat helplessly at the edge of the kang, lacking the courage to lie down.

She emptied her mind and sat for ten minutes before reluctantly getting up, heading to the main room to ladle a scoop of water into the aluminum basin in the yard. This basin had been mended several times by the big jar repair master but it leaked so much that it couldn’t be used for cooking food, now relegated for washing face.

Stooping down carefully, she washed her hands, even painstakingly picking out the dirt from under her nails.

After washing her hands, she fetched a basin of water and washed her face and neck again, only then feeling somewhat comfortable.

Back inside, facing the towel, she lacked the courage to use it, so she opted to wait for her hands to dry naturally.

Now it was a bit dark outside, probably around five o’clock, and her stomach started its empty song. With no choice, she summoned a meat bun, eating it in a few bites.

Jiang Xinyu knew the canteen would start serving dinner soon, but thinking of dinner left her without appetite. Now, with the belly padded with a meat bun, she felt even the throat-burning corn grits vegetable porridge could go down.

Suddenly she heard knocking and shouting from outside, ”Xinyu, Xinyu, open the door.”

Jiang Xinyu suddenly remembered the meat bun she just ate, the room must have the smell of it; at this moment, meat aroma was still easily detectable.

Quickly pulling open the curtain, she walked out while answering.

Remaining silent wouldn’t do, she feared the rickety door would be slammed open.

”Coming, coming.”

”Xinyu, what are you doing?”

”Xiao Ling, I was just tidying up the room, not inviting you in; it’s dusty from sweeping.” Jiang Xinyu blocked Wang Ailing’s entrance, speaking with a smile.

”Alright, I won’t go in then. You grab your bowl and chopsticks, let’s go eat.”

”Why so early today? I haven’t even heated the kang yet.”

”It’s not early, are you silly? It’s already six o’clock, hurry up or it’ll be just plain broth left.”

”Got it, I’ll get them right away.”

Jiang Xinyu returned to the main room, pulled a rough ceramic blue-rimmed sea bowl and a pair of chopsticks from the square earthenware rack on the wall behind the stove, and walked out.

But looking down, the bowl was really...

”Ailing, wait for me a moment, my bowl isn’t washed.”

”You, hurry up, why are you so slovenly?”

Jiang Xinyu felt a bit upset at the young girl’s disdainful words. How come all she said was the truth?

But she wondered why Wang Ailing’s name felt familiar to her.

Perhaps this name was commonly used among the general populace?

Finished washing the bowl and chopsticks, she quickly locked the door, following her buddy toward the canteen.

”Xinyu, what did you do today? I came to find you this afternoon, you weren’t home.”

”Gathering firewood, how else to get through winter?”

”You don’t have to work so hard. You graduated from junior high, have a job next year, find a partner, it’s all good.”

”Ailing, my parents just died, how can I date?” Jiang Xinyu knew in her rural hometown, one must mourn departed parents for three years.

”It’s a new society now, not so many customs, just being able to live is nice. You know, young girls marry during mourning without anyone saying anything.

And, when did you ever care about others’ opinions?”

Jiang Xinyu thought to herself this girl must really be close with her to offer such ideas.

”I don’t want to. I want to mourn my parents for three years.” Jiang Xinyu’s tone was extremely dejected.

”Alright, alright, do as you please, winter isn’t easy.”

”No problem, I’ll gather more firewood.”

”Xinyu, you never did anything before. Living alone now requires fetching water, gathering firewood, it’s manageable without snow now, but what will you do when heavy snow comes? You’re so stubborn, not adaptable at all.”

Jiang Xinyu said nothing, just following her, not liking to hear her talk.

”By the way, my dad said educated youth are coming to our village, heard they’re from big cities.”

”Well, let them come, aren’t they just people with a nose and two eyes.”

”Jiang Xinyu, you, I don’t know what to say to you. Always with the mentality of holding it all in.”

Talking, the two arrived at the canteen; now, as it’s past busy farming season, three meals shifted to two, just morning and evening.

The canteen was noisy, children chasing and playing, men sitting together smoking big pipes, women gathered gossiping.

Jiang Xinyu followed behind Wang Ailing into the group of young girls.

”Hey! Isn’t this the big worker?” A girl with triangular eyes, dark reddish skin, and a student head sarcastically spoke.

Jiang Xinyu decided to say nothing. Let them say what they want.

”Liu Xiaotao, you’re everywhere?”

”Not you?”

That made Wang Ailing angrily huff up and down, standing beside her, Jiang Xinyu watched the girl’s heaving chest, glancing at herself, instantly feeling unloved.

The other girls began mediating; they’d grown up together, how could they not know each other’s nature?

Jiang Xinyu felt many gazes on her, cautiously looked around. Turned out the village’s young men were all drawn to the scene. Opposite genders attract; that’s an eternal truth, even if they’re all dark-skinned, they are still opposites.

At half past six, dinner commenced, everyone queued—the queue had its protocol: generally, village leaders and cadre first, then labor, followed by the village’s assertive women, then young men, women labor, and lastly young girls and children.

Jiang Xinyu wouldn’t squeeze ahead, just followed behind Wang Ailing, advancing step by step.

She had an open mind about it, after all, she wasn’t the last; there were dozens of kids behind her.

”Xinyu, this won’t do; before you had your parents, what about afterward? Forget it, talking to you is useless, next year you’ll work in the county, less time back home, but outside you’ll be even more bullied like this.” Finished speaking, she sighed.