Chapter 24: Where Did You Learn Such Filthy Language This Time?

With Liu Huaixu’s body so weak these past two days and her face drained so white, the slightest flush showed up glaringly.

Which left Yu An staring at those reddening cheeks, deep in thought.

Liu Huaixu’s blush right now, and yesterday’s missing undergarments on the laundry line, both traced back to the same shyness. If Yu An pointed it out right now…

Not that Yu An thought anything of it herself—but Liu Huaixu was thin-skinned. She’d be mortified for certain.

“Go rest a while. I’ll call you when the food’s ready.”

Yu An knew perfectly well what she was referring to, yet said nothing more of it—and something in Liu Huaixu’s chest warmed. Then came the next thought: because of the Rain-Dew Period, she’d been bedridden day after day, doing nothing, while Yu An ran herself ragged inside and out, all alone.

It sat a little uneasily with her.

So Liu Huaixu lingered at the doorframe, hand resting on it, in no hurry to go inside. Seeing this, Yu An hurried to urge her along. “You’re still weak—go back in, quick, before you catch a draft.”

Even as she spoke, she raised a hand and gave her a little push. Caught off guard, Liu Huaixu staggered—and just as she seemed about to hit the ground, Yu An lunged in fright and caught her around the waist, keeping her from falling.

Their eyes met. At the sight of Liu Huaixu’s face—pale yet flushed—Yu An’s mind went briefly blank, her heart slamming hard once.

Liu Huaixu, for her part, felt something she couldn’t name. It wasn’t as if she and Yu An had never been this close before—but ever since that time, whenever Yu An came near, she’d felt unbearably wretched.

But not this time. No such wretchedness. She couldn’t tell whether it was the Rain-Dew Period—or whether Yu An… had truly changed.

After all, the hand at her waist merely rested there, light and perfectly proper.

Before she could work out whether it was her body or her heart that no longer rejected Yu An, Yu An let go and said lightly, “Careful on your feet, all right?”

Liu Huaixu lowered her head, blinking rapidly, and said dismissively, “Got it. I’m going in.”

With that, she left nothing but her receding back—not even a glance behind as the door closed.

Yu An found it a little odd, but didn’t dwell on it. She had work to do.

First she fetched some firewood and got the fire going in Liu Huaixu’s room.

Days were milder, sure, but winter was closing in; a kang left unlit for a day would chill right through, and Liu Huaixu wouldn’t withstand it when she lay down later.

Then she went to the vegetable garden, picked and washed the greens, and started the ribs stewing.

Once the pot was on, a new worry gnawed at Yu An.

She and Liu Huaixu usually ate simple stir-fries. With ribs stewing like this, eating up half the day, there’d be no time to cook rice at all.

Worse, she’d realized the house didn’t even have a proper stove. How bitter would deep winter be without one?

Yu An filed it away: in a few days, once Liu Huaixu was back on her feet, she’d find someone to build a stove. Relying on one big pot alone was genuinely inconvenient.

After half a day’s labor, the ribs were finally stewed tender. Yu An seasoned them simply and tasted…

…and couldn’t help exclaiming, “Nothing beats the smell of meat!” At the sound of movement from Liu Huaixu’s room, she set down the ladle, hurried to her door, and knocked. “You awake? I stewed ribs—it’ll be ready to eat as soon as you’re up.”

Truthfully, Liu Huaixu had heard Yu An the moment she returned—she simply hadn’t come out. The weariness in her body was crushing. She’d felt passable on waking that morning, but before long the familiar fevered restlessness had surged back up.

She’d used the special suppressant ointment Doctor Li left yesterday. Applied, it had pushed the fevered feeling back down—though her body was left limp and strengthless.

All she could do was lie on the kang and rest.

Hearing Yu An call now, she propped herself up and answered, “I’ll be out shortly.”

Through the door, Yu An heard that her voice was still frail—about like yesterday—and feared the Rain-Dew Period had broken loose again. She knocked hard, twice, asking anxiously, “Are you feeling unwell again? Did you use the suppressant ointment Doctor Li left yesterday?”

That anxious voice made Liu Huaixu stare blankly. Perhaps it was her ailing body making her heart unusually tender, but Yu An’s concern left her feeling soft and sore inside at once.

Even Yu An of yesterday—all those words, all those deeds—hadn’t stirred this in her.

But that one moment at midday had shifted something in her. Her manner of speaking was no warmer than usual, yet Liu Huaixu knew it herself: her heart toward Yu An had begun to soften.

At the very least, she could no longer manage the outright cold barbs.

Getting no answer, Yu An knocked a few more times. “Did you put on that ointment or not?”

Rousing herself, Liu Huaixu answered, “I did. I’m just a little weak.”

The answer let Yu An relax—then made her feel a little foolish.

If the Rain-Dew Period had really broken loose again, that cool mint fragrance would be flooding the whole room. There was nothing of the kind.

Truly dense, she thought.

Yu An went back and fed the fire a couple more times. The food was nearly ready; she popped the finished rib soup back on the stove to warm, so that the moment Liu Huaixu emerged, it would come straight off the heat to the table.

The nap had done Liu Huaixu good; her color was much improved, no longer so bloodlessly pale. Seeing her come out, Yu An beckoned. “Come, come—tell me how it tastes.”

Liu Huaixu looked down at the table. The rib broth’s fragrance wafted up, teasing her palate… and, disgracefully, Liu Huaixu swallowed hard. Then she shot a nervous glance at Yu An—only when she saw the woman absorbed in serving rice, paying her no mind at all, did she breathe easy again.

Barely seated, Yu An was laying out her plans. “I think we need a stove for winter. This is going to be miserable otherwise.”

Liu Huaixu held her bowl and watched her, deep agreement in her heart. In the past, with income failing to meet expenses, such thoughts had never even been entertained. But the situation now… if Yu An could keep this up, their days were bound to get better and better.

Seeing Liu Huaixu silent but still watching, Yu An took it as consent and said with a smile, “I’ll go buy one tomorrow, and ask Big Brother Wu if he can help install it.”

It puzzled Liu Huaixu—how had things between the two of them suddenly warmed? But before she could ask, Yu An went on, “I used to think Big Brother Wu was nothing but a scowling, gruff sort. But yesterday he came to Second Grandmother’s to fetch me, and with Qiuqiu and Aunt Wu helping too—I think he’s genuinely warmhearted. He just looks a bit fierce.”

Liu Huaixu had long known the Wu family’s characters; she nodded along.

Once the talk wound down, Yu An kept piling ribs into Liu Huaixu’s bowl without eating a single piece herself. Liu Huaixu set down her bowl. “I can’t eat this much. Have some yourself.”

There was no frost in her tone this time. Delight bloomed in Yu An’s chest and burst straight out of her in a laugh—which only flustered Liu Huaixu, who shot her a glare and lifted her own bowl again, applying herself to her rice.

Too busy laughing, Yu An missed Liu Huaixu’s fluster entirely; by the time she collected herself, all she caught was a pair of scarlet ear tips.

She peered at them, puzzled, a few seconds too long—which only infuriated Liu Huaixu more.

“Eat your food!” Liu Huaixu said, putting deliberate frost into her voice.

Yu An grinned wickedly and agreed readily. “Yes, of course, Huaixu… little sister.”

At “Huaixu,” the fury on Liu Huaixu’s face deepened—at “little sister,” she glazed over completely, just like the last time, staring blankly at her.

Yu An nearly laughed again—then remembered less pleasant history. The last time she’d said “little sister,” Liu Huaixu had twisted her arm…

…and so she sobered instantly and applied herself, with perfect decorum, to her meal.

After the meal, Yu An washed the dishes. For once, Liu Huaixu didn’t retire to her room—she sat by the doorway, letting the breeze wash over her.

When she finished, Yu An took her little stool and sat down behind Liu Huaixu. She didn’t know what Liu Huaixu was looking at—she herself was looking at the drying line. Recalling Liu Huaixu’s flushed, bashful face at noon, she decided it would be a downright waste of those easily-reddened cheeks and ear tips not to tease her a little.

A stroke of inspiration—and she called out, “Baby~~~”

Liu Huaixu’s mind had been wandering. At the stir behind her she turned, puzzled. “What?”

“Baby~”

Liu Huaixu couldn’t make head or tail of it, but repeated it anyway. “Bei-bi???”

“What does that mean?”

Watching Liu Huaixu blink at her, innocent and bewildered, Yu An licked her lips without thinking—half anticipation, half nerves.

“Baby means darling. As in—precious. A treasure.”

In an instant, every trace of confusion vanished from Liu Huaixu’s face, replaced by icy frost. “Where did you learn that kind of filthy language this time?”