Chapter 52: The Abandoned, Fierce, and Rugged Man (4)

"Brother Pei, when you're out in the fields every day, have you ever seen Educated Youth Yang helping Educated Youth Jiang weed?"

The manual labor assigned to educated youths sent down to the countryside varied greatly; some even involved shoveling pig manure, farming, and tilling the land. Considering that female comrades lacked physical stamina, strenuous tasks like hauling nightsoil, chopping firewood, and carrying water were basically assigned to male educated youths. Jiang Shuyao had been assigned to weeding, while Yang Rongrong was tasked with sowing seeds.

Pei Zhi pressed his lips together, his gaze sweeping past Shuyao and landing lightly on Yang Rongrong's face. His thin lips parted, and he spat out two words:

"No."

Yang Rongrong's expression changed abruptly, her tone carrying intense dissatisfaction.

"Team Leader, this is a matter within our production team. Why drag outsiders into it?"

"Besides, he's not even from our team. How could he possibly remember my face?"

With so many fields, even if she really hadn't helped Jiang Shuyao with her work, no one would have noticed. Normally, the team had designated personnel to inspect work and allocate work points, but they had been occupied with other matters these past few days, giving Yang Rongrong an opportunity to exploit the loophole.

Pei Zhi indeed did not remember Yang Rongrong's face. He had no desire to argue with anyone, as the matter had nothing to do with him in the first place.

"That's true." Zhao Qiming felt that what Yang Rongrong said made some sense, and he was afraid of wronging her. Yet Jiang Shuyao did not look like she was lying. Having worked together for over a month, he had come to understand her temperament—aside from being fond of slacking off, she was not one to lie.

Having already made up his mind, Zhao Qiming said, "I'll go back to the production team later and ask if anyone saw you helping Educated Youth Jiang weed."

A flash of panic crossed Yang Rongrong's face, and she opened her mouth as if to speak further. Someone tugged at the hem of her shirt, and Ye Xiu shook her head at her, motioning for her to let it go.

With a breath stuck in her throat, unable to go up or down, Yang Rongrong felt ready to explode with anger.

Shuyao raised an eyebrow, unable to resist provoking her further, "Hear that? Just wait for it."

Gritting her teeth, Yang Rongrong rolled her eyes hard at Shuyao.

"In the future, don't use the excuse of helping me with work to take my food. Keep your hands to yourself." Shuyao's voice was cold, her eyes filled with undisguised disgust.

Seeing that Pei Zhi had already walked away, she remembered her mission and trotted happily after him.

Pei Zhi had collected two corn buns and a bowl of cabbage soup, sitting in a corner and eating with great mouthfuls. The young man had refined and handsome features, his clean-cut shoulders and neck curving in an appealing line.

To him, the tasteless and bland corn buns were a feast. He was not picky about food; as long as it filled his stomach, that was enough. His extremely poor family background left him with no privilege to be picky.

Pei Zhi lived a rough life, so when the soft and gentle female educated youth sat down opposite him, even his spine stiffened. Pei Zhi glanced at her instinctively, then quickly withdrew his gaze.

Shuyao had taken a bath and changed into a fresh set of clothes, her wrists emitting the clean fragrance of laundry soap. Her skin was fair and tender, and one side of her hair was braided into a thick, heavy plait. It was a hairstyle all the young girls liked at the moment, yet she wore it with exceptional prettiness, a clear sign that she had never known hardship.

He pretended not to see her, only accelerating the pace at which he ate.

Shuyao blinked, leaned forward slightly, and whispered, "Pei Zhi?"

Pei Zhi's motion of raising the bowl to drink his soup paused slightly. He lowered his gaze and finished it.

"Mn." He gave a low acknowledgment, his knuckles curling unconsciously.

Shuyao asked cautiously, "Do you want some candy?"

Pei Zhi frowned, finding her very strange.

"No need." He gulped down the rest of the cabbage soup, tidied up his bowls and chopsticks, and walked away without looking back, completely ignoring Shuyao.

Shuyao's eyes widened, her gaze following Pei Zhi until the young man's back disappeared through the doorway. It dawned on her belatedly: was Pei Zhi pushing her away?

Yang Rongrong took in Shuyao's self-inflicted humiliation and laughed with utter disdain.

"Hmph, some people shouldn't think that just because they have the face of a vixen, every man under the sun has to revolve around them."

"Even a dead-broke peasant tilling the fields looks down on you."

Yang Rongrong did not notice that after she dropped those words, the expressions of the villagers eating nearby all shifted.

Ye Xiu, whose sensibilities were sharper than hers, quickly chimed in, "Rongrong, don't talk like that."

Yang Rongrong shrugged disdainfully, her face dripping with sarcasm and contempt.

"Isn't it true? She really thinks that fellow named Pei Zhi is some kind of prize. He's just a penniless country boy who happens to have a decent face."

"A femme fatale and a dirt-poor beggar—a match made in heaven."

Upon arriving at Shiyao Village, Yang Rongrong had taken note of Pei Zhi almost immediately. It was hard not to; Pei Zhi was exceptionally handsome, with broad shoulders, a narrow waist, and a robust physique.

It was just that his temperament was a bit too gloomy, he didn't like to talk, and his background was wretchedly poor, making him completely unworthy of her. Once she learned of Pei Zhi's family circumstances, Yang Rongrong instantly banished any romantic thoughts she might have had about him.

She hadn't expected that pampered little princess Jiang Shuyao would actually take an interest in Pei Zhi; her taste was certainly lacking. Through this comparison, Yang Rongrong immediately felt a surge of supreme superiority.

There was finally one area where she could surpass Jiang Shuyao: her judgment of people.

Pei Zhi's family background was truly tragic. Back in the day, Wang Cui'e had given birth to Wang Cheng out of wedlock, and everyone in the village had laughed at her. Later, she met Pei Zhi's father, a widower whose son by his former wife was Pei Zhi. Originally, Wang Cui'e looked down upon him, but upon hearing that Pei Zhi's father owned a tricycle and half an mu of land—meaning marrying him would at least keep her from starving or freezing—she agreed to the match.

Who could have known that Pei Zhi's father was short-lived? After his death, he left her only a mud-brick house and Pei Zhi, this burdensome tag-along.

The mud house couldn't be sold for money. She was getting older, and Wang Cheng was growing up; dragging a stepchild along would make it hard to remarry, so Wang Cui'e had no choice but to settle down in Shiyao Village.

Pei Zhi was seventeen this year, and his household registration papers were held by Wang Cui'e. In this era, without any background, cutting ties was a formidable task. Wang Cui'e seized upon this exact leverage; taking advantage of his minority, she skimmed his food rations and stripped him of his work points to feed herself and her own son. If Pei Zhi had no value, she would have driven him out long ago.

Pei Zhi was a man with no future. Even with a handsome physical shell, relying solely on a pair of bare hands meant he would never, for all eternity, walk out of these mountains.

People's destinies, she reflected, were predetermined from birth.

Sighing, Yang Rongrong shook her head with a hint of regret. She actually hoped Jiang Shuyao would stay in the mountains forever, preferably bear a child, and toil away at rough farm work every day. That might just anger her parents to death.

Shuyao chased after him all the way.

Pei Zhi's legs were long, and his strides were wide; he had no intention of waiting for Shuyao. Shuyao jogged after him the entire way.

Suddenly, Pei Zhi halted in his tracks, and Shuyao almost failed to brake in time, nearly crashing straight into him.

Managing to stop herself just in time, she let out a long breath of relief and patted her chest.

Pei Zhi turned around to stare at her, his gaze chillingly cold, the word "aloof" carved plainly and without concealment across his face.

"Stop following me."