Chapter 50: The Duck Pen

Huang Wei couldn’t help but touch her hair, still unsure what Cheng Luyun had just done. The strands now fell back over her eyes, feeling thicker and longer than usual. It probably wasn’t just her bangs being played with; Cheng Luyun must have pulled a few extra locks forward from nearby.

Huang Wei wanted to push it away, but Cheng Luyun caught her hand, telling her to leave it be.

Bewildered, Huang Wei picked up the breakfast and left.

She had absolutely no idea that Cheng Luyun had a single thought running through her mind: Who are you getting all prettied up for at the crack of dawn?

If she’d known what Cheng Luyun was thinking, she’d have cried out her innocence. She’d been working since the moment she woke up—what “prettied up”?! She looked completely bedraggled right now!

Her clothes were dusty, her face was covered in sweat, and her hair was sticking damply to her temples. There was nothing remotely attractive about it.

And so, with her somewhat disheveled hair, Huang Wei made her way to the guesthouse. True to the time she’d set the day before, she arrived precisely at 8 AM. Opening the door, she found the players already waiting in the courtyard. When Huang Wei entered, Auntie Wang even approached to help carry things.

On her walk over, villagers had offered to help, but Huang Wei had refused them all. She was carrying a large basket containing the inner pot of the rice cooker with a gauze cloth covering the porridge, a large bowl of fried eggs sealed with an inverted plate, several plump boiled eggs beside it, and in her hands, the basin of cold shredded carrot salad.

When Auntie Wang offered to help, Huang Wei didn’t refuse. Auntie Wang’s help was genuinely free! If it had been any other villager, after carrying a dish, they’d demand sunflower seeds!

That was just the minimum. They might even just walk all the way back with her, plant themselves in the guesthouse, and refuse to leave until they’d eaten their fill.

To avoid her food being hijacked mid-route, Huang Wei had practically sprinted the whole way carrying it.

She was just an ordinary person after all. After walking so far with such a heavy load, she was slightly out of breath when she reached the guesthouse. She rested a moment. Knowing the guesthouse already had bowls and chopsticks, “generously donated” by the “kind-hearted” Huang Family villagers, she didn’t linger. She simply reminded the players that lunch would be at 12:30 PM, wiped the sweat from her brow, and hurried back home.

She still had work to do. The duck pen’s little hut was just a bare frame—she hadn’t even attached the wooden planks yet.

When she arrived home, she found the front gate wide open. Before she even stepped inside, the sound of a little girl’s bright laughter drifted from the backyard. Huang Wei walked through the gate and looked toward the house, seeing Huang Chengcheng and the Ya sisters gathered around a bamboo cage, circling it. Huang Wei walked over for a peek. Inside was a large duck, surrounded by a cluster of tiny ducklings.

Cheng Luyun worked fast; she’d already acquired the ducks in the time it took Huang Wei to run an errand. Where she’d gotten them, Huang Wei had no idea, but they looked… alive, at least?

Seeing the ducks had arrived, Huang Wei felt even more urgency to finish the pen. She raised her hand, wiping the sweat from her face and smoothing back the unruly strands of hair plastered to her forehead. She went to the well, drew some water, wiped her face, and took several gulps. It was June 15th, after all, and the day already held the promise of summer heat. If she didn’t finish the work in the cool morning, the afternoon would only be hotter.

She let the three little girls play and headed to the backyard to resume her task. She’d already gotten a lot done before breakfast, so it shouldn’t take much longer.

She worked with intense focus, wielding a small hammer and screws with unwavering concentration. When she was almost done, she paused to catch her breath and turned around—only to find Cheng Luyun standing right behind her, perfectly still. She had no idea how long she’d been there.

Startled, Huang Wei jumped. When she recovered, she asked, “Ah Yun, when did you get here?”

Cheng Luyun’s gaze was fixed on the hideously ugly hut Huang Wei had built. She’d seen Huang Wei so full of confidence before, had witnessed her pull off so many unexpected things, that she’d assumed the duck pen would also be a masterpiece. To see it turn out so unsightly… the realization tugged the corners of her mouth into a smile.

Hearing Huang Wei’s question, Cheng Luyun countered, “What, am I not allowed to be here?”

Huang Wei wiped the sweat from her chin with the back of her hand. “Of course not. Ah Yun can go anywhere she pleases. You’re certainly welcome here.”

Cheng Luyun felt a tickle in her ear. This person was always saying “Ah Yun” this and “Ah Yun” that, so smoothly, as if she’d done it a thousand times. She probably had “Ah Xias” and “Ah Hongs” in the past, too. The smile on Cheng Luyun’s lips faltered. She shot Huang Wei a glare. “Smooth talker.”

Huang Wei wanted to scratch the back of her head, but her hands were filthy, so she stopped. It wasn’t an itch she was trying to scratch anyway, but pure confusion. Her recent experiences had taught her one thing: Cheng Luyun hated anything overly greasy. Huang Wei herself wasn’t entirely sure if she was greasy or not; she just said what came to mind. It was only in retrospect that she sometimes realized her words might have been a bit much.

Cheng Luyun only left her with that remark before ordering her to go take a shower.

Huang Wei cleaned up her tools, put them back in the utility room, and then helped Huang Chengcheng and the others move the ducks into the new pen. She tried to lift the cage herself, but it was surprisingly heavy. Maybe she was just exhausted, completely spent, but she couldn’t shift it an inch. It felt impossibly dense.

Seeing her struggle, Huang Chengcheng volunteered to do it.

Huang Wei looked at her, a conflicted expression on her face. She was a grown adult! How could she just stand by and watch a tiny girl do the heavy lifting? But when Huang Chengcheng effortlessly hoisted the cage and walked off with it, Huang Wei fell silent.

Yeah… best not to compare your strength to a little boss’s.

Huang Chengcheng carried the cage with ease, the Ya sisters trailing after her. The three girls followed Huang Wei like a line of ducklings trailing their mother. When they reached the backyard, they all laid eyes on Huang Wei’s hideous duck pen.

Huang Chengcheng looked slightly dumbstruck. She’d imagined a beautiful little wooden house. Reality, however, had dealt her a harsh blow. Big Ya, being the eldest and their little group’s responsible figure, patted her gently on the shoulder. “It’s okay! We can pick some flowers later and stick them on the little house. It’ll be beautiful!”

Big Ya’s comfort clearly made Huang Chengcheng feel better. She let out a soft “Mhm,” nodded, and put the cage inside the pen.

The three girls, utterly un-self-conscious in front of Huang Wei, openly discussed just how ugly the duck pen was right to her face.

Huang Wei was too exhausted to even defend herself. Fine, let them call her hut ugly. She wasn’t a carpenter. Even if she had the talent, she’d never have had a place to learn.

This kind of work naturally excluded women, in the countryside or even in the city. If Huang Wei had been a boy, her adoptive parents might have sent her to apprentice with the village carpenter, giving her a trade to earn money to support them later.

But she was a girl. If they’d tried to apprentice her, the carpenter would have sent her straight back home.

The same logic applied to plumbing, electrical work, painting, bricklaying—all the traditional paths open to village boys. They were all closed to her.

Her adoptive parents had considered sending her to a technical school for a trade—beauty, hairdressing, something fast to learn so she could start earning money quickly. But those industries were fiercely competitive, flooded with students who had poor grades and no real skills. A boy’s career options were even broader, as any glance at a technical school’s vocational programs would prove.

Huang Wei learned from childhood that it was better to rely on herself than anyone else. She’d always done well in school, but it meant nothing—her adoptive parents would never have kept paying for her education just because she got good grades. The only reason she was able to continue her studies was because the village chief had once said: “Let her study. The higher her diploma, the more bride price you can demand later.”

Those words were the sole reason she was able to go to university, pass her exams, and never go back.

So, she felt no shame in her poor carpentry. So what if it was bad? She’d never been taught. The fact she could even fashion something vaguely resembling a duck pen, based on the ones she remembered seeing as a child, felt like a significant achievement.

After Huang Chengcheng put the cage in the pen, Huang Wei opened it to let the ducks out. For a moment, nothing emerged. She led the three girls out of the pen to crouch outside and watch the ducks. Huang Chengcheng and the Ya sisters seemed engaged in some covert operation, their little fists clenched tight, waiting with bated breath.

After a short while, the mother duck strutted out of the cage with a swaggering, don’t-give-a-damn gait, as if declaring this entire place her domain. A moment later, the ducklings, realizing their mother was gone, scurried out on their tiny webbed feet and rushed to her side.

The previously silent duck pen was instantly filled with the peeping and chirping of baby ducks.

“Wooooow…”

Huang Chengcheng and the Ya sisters let out quiet cheers. Huang Wei smiled. It was rather amusing watching them act like they’d never seen the world before.

She wiped her sweat and told them to keep watching the ducks while she went up for a shower.

Big Ya stood up. “Uncle, I should go wash the vegetables now. Once you’re done with your shower, you can start cooking right away.”

Her words weren’t exactly tactful; they sounded almost like she was pushing her. Uncle, hurry up and cook. But Huang Wei knew she meant no harm. Big Ya was a well-behaved girl, aside from when she turned into an oil monster.

Huang Wei reached out and ruffled Big Ya’s fuzzy head. “It’s fine. Play with Chengcheng a little longer. My showers are slow, and I have to blow-dry my hair. Enjoy the ducklings for a bit. I’ll call you when it’s time to prep the vegetables.”

After saying goodbye to the three girls, Huang Wei turned to go upstairs for her shower. She decided to stop by the yard first to grab a drink from the well. But as she passed the main hall, she noticed a glass of cooled boiled water already sitting on the table. Huang Wei smiled. It had to be Cheng Luyun who left it. Without hesitation, she picked it up and gulped it down.

Once the glass was empty, she let out a satisfied gasp.

—Drinking water really is the best feeling.

She headed upstairs to shower, completely oblivious to the look in Huang Chengcheng’s eyes as she left.