Chapter 242

Zhao Meipo originally came from a mountain ravine further north, having fled famine more than twenty years ago.

Because so much time had passed, she couldn't remember where her hometown was, nor could she calculate exactly which year she had fled.

She didn't know what surname her parents had, and she had no name of her own.

She only knew she was the second daughter in her family, and her parents called her Er Ya.

That year, Er Ya had just turned twelve, wearing tattered clothes, black and skinny, nothing but a skeleton.

She lay helpless by the official road; half a day passed with not even a human trafficker coming by, and when she was down to her last breath from hunger, she met a kind-hearted young man.

Let's call this young man Old Zhao for now.

The girl was too thin and weak; Old Zhao tried carrying her on his back several times, but she kept sliding off.

No choice, Old Zhao could only hold her in his arms.

Old Zhao's way of holding people was strange; he refused to cradle the little girl in his arms, instead holding her up with both hands, palms up, as if lifting a table.

This naturally required more effort, making Old Zhao's walk somewhat stiff and awkward.

Seeing Er Ya open her eyes, Old Zhao laughed, "How long have you been starving? You're as light as a feather when I lift you—I don't feel the slightest bit tired."

Old Zhao's looks were not particularly handsome; when he smiled, he even seemed a bit simple-minded.

But at that moment, that smile was etched into Er Ya's eyes.

Er Ya looked at this stranger and felt no fear.

She didn't know whether he was good or bad, or where he would take her.

To her, what could be more terrifying than starving to death?

At least for now she knew she had been saved, and perhaps she would soon be able to eat something.

Old Zhao, however, comforted Er Ya: "Don't be afraid, I'm not a bad person. I'm Zhao Lei, I live just ahead in Zhao Family Slope Village, and I still have an old mother at home—she's a very good person."

Er Ya glanced at Old Zhao and thought, He must despise how dirty I am, afraid of soiling his clean clothes.

Upon entering the village and meeting people,

When people learned that Zhao Lei had rescued a girl near death from starvation, they also found his manner of holding her strange.

"Lei Zi, doesn't holding her up like that all the way tire you out?"

Zhao Lei gave a simple, honest smile: "After all, she's a young lady; one must avoid suspicion, lest her reputation be ruined."

Er Ya blinked, wondering, So he doesn't despise me?

That person sized up Er Ya and said disparagingly, "Filthy and stinking, so thin you can't even tell she's a woman—who could see her as female? You're just being overly particular!"

Zhao Lei just gave a simple-minded smile.

Zhao Lei's family consisted only of his widowed mother of many years; mother and son had scraped by on two mu of poor farmland for years.

Zhao Lei's mother had been in poor health for years, while Zhao Lei was famous in the village as a filial son; he inevitably sought medicine and treatment for her, making their already meager life even tighter.

Fortunately, Zhao Lei had a talent for foraging in the mountains; occasionally he found wild honey, bee pollen, and the like, which he sold to supplement the household.

Seeing Er Ya, Zhao Lei's mother said nothing and had her son put her on her kang (heated brick bed).

She quickly boiled a half-bowl of thin gruel, deliberately stirring in a spoonful of honey.

Zhao Lei's mother sat on the edge of the kang and personally fed Er Ya.

The long-missed sweet taste of food made Er Ya gulp it down mouth after mouth, her eyes full of eager anticipation.

Zhao Lei's mother said with a smile, "Eat slowly; you've been starving too long—you couldn't eat too fast or too much the last few times."

Er Ya was very obedient; she glanced at Zhao Lei's mother and slowed her swallowing.

Zhao Lei's mother asked, "Girl, what's your name?"

Er Ya shook her head; at that time she didn't know people were supposed to have names.

Zhao Lei's mother showed a look of pity: "Ah, poor girl, go on and eat."

After finishing the gruel, Zhao Lei's mother sent Zhao Lei out, washed and wiped Er Ya clean, then changed into her own clothes.

Er Ya lay on the kang, smelling the scent of soapberry on her body, and fell into a deep sleep.

A few days later, as soon as Er Ya had enough strength to stand, she got off the kang to help Zhao Lei's mother with chores.

She threw herself into the work, yet at mealtime she never voluntarily took a second bowl.

Finally, Zhao Lei's mother softened, sighed, and told Er Ya voluntarily that she could stay in this household and no one would drive her away.

Thus the girl of unknown surname and origin became Zhao Lei's sister.

She naturally took Zhao Lei's surname, and it happened to be the season when the buckwheat they planted was in bloom.

Zhao Lei looked at the white buckwheat blossoms and said, "You shall be called Qiao Hua—Zhao Qiao Hua."

Zhao Lei was then twenty-two years old, exactly ten years older than Qiao Hua.

In the blink of an eye three years passed; Qiao Hua grew tall and slender, her figure graceful and her features delicate.

She was much livelier than when she first arrived, her mouth sweet, and everyone in the village liked her.

When she was fifteen, someone came to the door to propose a match to Zhao Lei's mother.

But Qiao Hua refused, saying that since her brother had not yet taken a wife, she wanted to stay home two more years to care for their mother.

It was only because she had once overheard Zhao Lei's mother and Zhao Lei saying, "You're twenty-five and still unmarried; in my opinion, I could actually suggest Qiao Hua as your wife."

Qiao Hua's heart skipped a beat, a vague hope faintly rising.

But then she heard Zhao Lei speak sternly: "Mother, what nonsense are you spouting? Qiao Hua is my sister; although not born of me, we treat her as our own birth child."

"How could I possibly marry her as my wife? No way—don't even think about it, and don't you dare tell Qiao Hua, lest you frighten her!"

Zhao Lei's mother fell silent for a moment: "I also feel sorry for Qiao Hua."

"After all, it's mother who has held you back, spending all our savings on my treatment, to the point we can't even afford your betrothal gifts..."

Zhao Lei lovingly comforted his mother, and their conversation gradually faded away.

Qiao Hua stood there in a daze for a moment.

The inner loss made this maiden suddenly experience the first stirrings of love.

Hearing that Mother wanted her brother to marry her, she seemed very happy.

That winter, Mother Zhao fell ill and never recovered, dying on a day when snowflakes were drifting.

Zhao Lei had just emerged from his grief when he began arranging a marriage for his sister.

But after he consulted several matchmakers, they all shook their heads at the conditions Qiaohua proposed.

"With your family's conditions, you still want to find a young, unmarried candidate?"

"You want to be an official's lady? Dream on!"

Later Zhao Lei also advised his sister, asking if she could lower her standards a bit.

Qiaohua, however, feigned willfulness, saying she would not marry any man who wasn't like that.

Zhao Lei merely thought his sister had high standards, and could not bear to press her too hard.

Time dragged on, and another two years passed.

At seventeen, Qiaohua was content with her present life, thinking she could stay with Zhao Lei like this until old age.

But Zhao Lei was carried back by a group of people.

While gathering honey, he fell from a high cliff, and by the time he reached home that night he was already dead.

Zhao Lei's gaze was unfocused, not knowing what he saw; he smiled and said, "Qiaohua, brother cannot take advantage of your predicament and delay your life."

"Brother has saved some money these past two years, hidden at the bottom of Mother's chest, and it's for you."

"Brother is gone; you should find someone to marry."

Qiaohua's heart felt as if struck by a heavy hammer, and tears burst forth.

He knew.

As it turned out, older brother knew all along.

Zhao Lei seemed to regain a bit of clarity, his breath weak, "Qiaohua, brother wants to eat the buckwheat noodles you make."