Transmigrated as an Unwanted Ugly Girl

She smiled and praised, "That’s exactly it. Dad, you’re so good at weaving. The sole is so thick, it must be soft to walk on. If you want to make it look nicer, you could also go to the riverbank and cut some green grass, let it dry, and roll it into thin cords. You could mix them in with this yellow straw to weave a pattern."

Mrs. Yang smiled and said, "They’re just straw sandals for wearing barefoot around the house. You can’t wear them out, so what’s the point of weaving patterns into them?"

Zheng Changhe, however, said, "Juhua, if you want them to look nice, Dad will mix in some other colors for you. Even if you can’t wear them out, it’s still nice to look at them yourself, isn’t it?" Her praise had filled him with enthusiasm.

Qingmu took the flip-flops, turning them over and over to inspect them. He praised, "This is much simpler. You don’t have to pull at the heel, and they won’t fall off. If we wore them to work in the fields, they’d be easy to take on and off."

Juhua quickly said, "The ridges between the fields aren’t very clean. There might be snakes or other things. You should still wear the more solid straw sandals. Don’t be lazy."

Zheng Changhe nodded, saying these sandals were only suitable for wearing in the courtyard and at home. If you wore them out, with grass everywhere, it would be no different from being barefoot.

While they were talking and laughing, Zhang Huai came in and asked, "Uncle Zheng, are you weaving straw sandals? My dad was asking why you haven’t come over to chat yet."

The two families had fallen into a routine, usually going to bed and waking up early. In spring, summer, and autumn, aside from the few particularly busy days, they would always eat dinner early. Afterward, the men would chat with the men, the wives with the wives, and the children would naturally gather together.

Zheng Changhe had him look at the flip-flops he’d woven. After some talk and laughter, the sky darkened and the moon rose. He then put away his things, took a bath, and ambled out.

Zhang Huai noticed Juhua seemed listless and asked, "What’s wrong with Juhua?"

Mrs. Yang smiled. "It’s nothing, she just feels a little unwell. She’ll be fine after some rest. Huai Zi, is your mother done with her chores?"

Zhang Huai quickly replied, "She’s taking a bath." As he spoke, he brought a small stool over and sat down by Juhua’s bamboo bed, speaking to her in a low voice.

When Qingmu came out from his bath, he called for Mrs. Yang to go wash up. At that point, Huai Zi leaned closer to Juhua and asked softly, "Where do you feel unwell?" He touched her hand and found it ice-cold. Then he saw the thick mattress pad beneath her and said worriedly, "It’s so warm now, and you still feel cold?"

Juhua, feeling a bit awkward, pushed him away gently and smiled. "I just ate a little too much and my stomach is bloated. I’ll be fine after lying down for a bit. My constitution has always been like this—a bit weak, not very robust. Back when Doctor Qin was here, he told me I needed to build up my strength, and I’ve been trying."

Huai Zi held her hand, reluctant to let go. ’It’s not that I want to take advantage of her,’ he thought. ’It’s just that today, Juhua is so listless and exceptionally frail, like a flower wilted by the sun, lacking all vitality. The sight of her makes my heart ache.’

Before, Juhua was like a four o’clock flower, exceptionally vibrant and radiant in the morning and evening.

Usually, after dinner, she would either be by the base of the wall looking at the wild chrysanthemums or admiring the bamboo, a small hoe in hand to carefully pull out the weeds. Other times, she would be checking how much the fruit on the trees had grown. Or she might just run down to the small river to sit, not returning until dark with a flock of ducks in tow. On moonlit nights, she was reluctant to come back even after it got dark.

And in the mornings? She was even more full of boundless energy!

Seeing her like this now, she must be feeling extremely unwell. Juhua was not a delicate girl. She lay there, trying to pull her hand from his, but after two feeble struggles, she couldn’t be bothered to move anymore and let him hold it. Suddenly, a desire welled up inside him. ’I want to hold her in my arms, let her lean on my shoulder, and softly tell me what’s wrong. I would comfort her, soothe her!’

He was startled by his own thought and hastily dismissed it. He just squeezed her hand tighter, expressing his silent concern. After a moment, he tried to comfort her, "Take your time building up your strength. You’ll get better eventually. We have plenty of chickens and ducks at home now, so we can slaughter a few and make some stew." Then, remembering something, he added, "If your stomach is bloated, you should get up and walk around a bit. How can you just lie there?"

Juhua paused at his words, then could only say, "I don’t want to move. My stomach has this heavy, uncomfortable feeling. I’m fine, really. I feel much better now, so don’t worry."

His large, slightly rough hand held her small one, the burning warmth from his palm setting her at ease. They were very close. The moonlight was as clear as water, and a gentle breeze drifted by. At the base of the wall, insects chirped softly, their calls sometimes fast, sometimes slow, sometimes quiet, sometimes loud. She thought of Liu Xiaomei, who was getting engaged to Laixi after seeing him just twice. Other girls were the same. ’Only I am different,’ she thought, and couldn’t help but sigh in contentment.

Hearing her sigh, Huai Zi’s hand tightened, and he asked softly, "Is it really bad?"

Juhua smiled faintly. "No, I was just thinking about Mei. Brother Huai Zi, did you know? Mei is getting engaged to Laixi soon. Heh, I could tell there was something between them that day."

Zhang Huai smiled silently as well, saying that they were both sharp and clever, and would surely be a lot of fun together.

After a few more lighthearted words, Juhua asked him how the wood ear mushrooms were growing.

Zhang Huai told her, "This batch is growing well, but the harvest is small. Brother Changming and I discussed it, and we’re going to split the logs. That way, one log can be used like two. Also, it’s not very convenient at home, so we’re thinking of building a thatched shed on the mountain just for growing wood ear—right where we found that oak tree. We’ll pretend the logs are still just lying on the mountain, and the mushrooms are growing on their own. Maybe they’ll even grow better that way."

Juhua laughed. "So you’re simulating their natural environment. Right, you’re trying to mimic how they grow in the wild."

Zhang Huai smiled. "Exactly. And we’re getting more of those other mushrooms too. Brother Changming and I are each looking after a few patches of grass, checking them every morning and evening. The only thing is, I don’t know how to fertilize them. A patch of grass can’t keep producing mushrooms forever. I guess it must need some kind of fertilizer."

Just then, Qingmu walked over and asked with a laugh, "Fertilize what?" (To be continued. If you like this work, you’re welcome to vote with recommendation tickets and monthly passes on qidian.com. Your support is my greatest motivation.)