Chapter 18: The Deceived Girl in the 1970s: Fake vs. Real Daughter Story (18)

The next morning, Xiaoxiao didn’t go to work with the other educated youth. Instead, she was assigned to work in the village, picking peanuts with the aunties.

Out in the fields, Feng Qingqing noticed Xiaoxiao’s absence and deliberately put on a show of concern. “Team leader, I don’t see Comrade Ye Xiaoxiao today. I was hoping to find her and apologize.”

The team leader shot her a stern look. “She’s switched to another work assignment. You all better do your tasks properly today—if anyone slacks off or leaves early, your work points will be docked.”

Feng Qingqing hung her head in grievance and said no more.

It was Feng Qingqing and Lu Chuan’s first day working in the fields. Though everyone else had complained yesterday about how exhausting it was, neither of them had taken it seriously.

Especially at first—both were convinced Zhang Yumei had simply used it as an excuse to stir up drama. The whole situation had left a bad taste in their mouths.

But they hadn’t been at it long when Feng Qingqing started feeling the strain. Her back ached terribly, and her hands stung with pain.

She had barely straightened up to catch her breath when the scorekeeper caught sight of her and immediately barked, “No slacking! Get back to work properly!”

Seeing Lu Chuan glance her way, Feng Qingqing’s eyes welled up with tears.

Lu Chuan dropped his own work and rushed to her side. “It’s okay, Qingqing. If it’s too hard, just go take a rest. Once I’m done and once my brother finishes, we’ll come help you.”

The truth was, he was already on the verge of collapse himself. If not, he never would’ve dragged his brother into it. Still, he was determined to tough it out, as he absolutely couldn’t lose face in front of the girl he liked.

He told himself he had to work faster. That way, he could get done early and help Qingqing. Her hands were already red and swollen. She had even cried.

He rubbed his sore waist and glanced over at Lu Ze, who was moving twice as fast as he was. It looks like he’d have to rope in his brother again. Lucky guy—Qingqing would probably be even more impressed with him now.

With that thought, Lu Chuan trotted over to Lu Ze. “Bro, when you’re done, could you help Qingqing and me a bit? My back’s killing me, and her hands are hurt. She cried, you know.”

Lu Ze stared at him—this kid sure knew how to delegate. Did he think Lu Ze wasn’t tired?

His back was also sore, and his palms were red and raw. What did Lu Chuan think he was made of—steel?

Lu Ze didn’t even bother replying. But Lu Chuan took the silence as agreement and happily trotted back to his plot of land, moving even slower than before.

Soon, the scorekeeper came by. His tone was sharp: “Pick up the pace. No slacking. And don’t complain later, saying the brigade is bullying you educated youth if you get points docked.”

The scorekeeper was Ma Xiaojun, the youngest son of the party secretary. After graduating high school and failing to find work, he returned to the village. He didn’t like fieldwork, preferring to wander around and poke his nose into things.

To keep him from becoming a loafer, the party secretary made him a scorekeeper. It was an easy job, earned him seven work points a day, and kept him fed.

Ma Xiaojun didn’t care for field labor, but he looked down on these city kids even more.

Especially the new ones, who always carried an air of superiority, as if country folk were beneath them. They’d caused enough trouble for the brigade already. Frankly, he had no respect for them.

In his eyes, these so-called educated youth didn’t know their place. Just because you read a few books doesn’t mean you’re above manual labor. You came to the countryside to work, just like the rest of us.

They couldn’t even earn enough points for food. What were they so proud of?

With that in mind, he glanced at Lu Chuan struggling through his tasks and sneered inwardly.

That guy wants to help a female educated youth? Please. He’ll be lucky to finish his own task first.

Ma Xiaojun shook his head and walked off. He’d said his piece. If they didn’t finish their work, their points would be docked. Not his problem. Actually, the more points he deducted, the more rations for everyone else.

Let them fail. It’d be a win-win.

Feng Qingqing, reassured by Lu Chuan’s promise, rested comfortably off to the side.

Whether Lu Chuan managed to finish and help her wasn’t important. After all, she still had Lu Ze to fall back on.

Good thing Lu Ze didn’t know what they were both thinking, or he really might’ve died of frustration.

After dragging their feet a bit longer, Lu Chuan and Feng Qingqing left their fieldwork behind and returned early to cook lunch. Lu Ze frowned when he saw them leave.

Isn’t it a bit too early for that?

Still, he didn’t stop them. Neither of them knew how to cook anyway—they’d probably need more time.

But when everyone returned to the educated youth point for lunch, they discovered something shocking: the two hadn’t even started cooking. They hadn’t even lit the fire.

Lu Ze couldn’t hold it in anymore. “Lu Chuan, are you useless? Didn’t you used to be great at starting fires for barbecues in the mountains? What happened—can’t even light a stove now?”

He had wanted to pair the two of them separately with Zhang Yumei and Li Wenli, but Lu Chuan had insisted it was just simple porridge that they could manage. And now? This?

Zhang Yumei curled her lip in contempt. Without Lu Ze’s help, those two really were useless.

Li Wenli had no choice but to roll up her sleeves and start the fire herself.

Lu Chuan felt humiliated. His brother clearly looked down on him. And after what Feng Qingqing had said—that she liked his brother and only saw him as a brother—it all made sense.

Maybe Qingqing liked Lu Ze because she thought he was more capable?

That thought ignited his anger. “Fine, I’m useless! You’re so capable, huh? So capable you even stole the girl your own brother likes!”

With that, he stormed off and flopped onto his bed.

Lu Ze’s temple throbbed. He was seriously about to explode.

Why, oh why, did I ever think it was a good idea to bring this idiot with me to the countryside?

He’d worried Lu Chuan might cause trouble—or worse, get schemed against and drag the whole family into it. Turns out, Lu Chuan was the trouble.

Feng Qingqing, always quick to read a room, bowed her head and whispered, “Brother Ze, if you’re going to scold someone, scold me. It’s all my fault. Please don’t make yourself sick from the anger.”

Lu Ze ignored her.

Feng Qingqing tried again. “Brother Chuan didn’t mean it. He just never did this kind of work before.”

Lu Ze snapped, “Then he should learn! You both agreed yesterday.”

Feng Qingqing said pitifully, “We did try to learn. It looked so easy! Who knew it’d be this hard?”

Seeing that he was about to blow up again, she quickly added, “I promise I’ll learn properly with Lu Chuan. We won’t drag everyone down again.”

“Heh.”

Zhang Yumei let out a cold laugh. Yeah, right. If those two actually learn to cook, pigs will fly. She was seriously considering doing what Ye Xiaoxiao did—moving out and living on her own. No way was she going to keep getting dragged down by these two.

She’d give it two more days. If they still acted like pampered princes and princesses, she’d cut ties.

Just thinking about it made her feel a little better.

Meanwhile, Li Wenli was busy scrambling around the kitchen, growing increasingly frustrated. “Sister Yumei, can you help out a little? We’d finish faster and have more time to rest.”

Zhang Yumei scoffed. “You want to clean up their mess? Go right ahead. Just don’t drag me into it.”

Help them? Not a chance.

She deserved her rest just as much as anyone. Besides, she’d still be heading out to the fields after lunch.

By the time they finally finished eating, it was already time to return to work. The older educated youth, watching the chaos, silently congratulated themselves on not teaming up with them.

Especially the two educated youth girls who came back to cook lunch—they’d witnessed the whole scene.

Feng Qingqing and Lu Chuan had done nothing. No fire. No prep. They just sat there talking—one complaining, the other offering sympathy.

Only when people started coming back did they finally get up and make a show of starting the fire.

As they returned to the fields, Lu Chuan and Feng Qingqing avoided meeting anyone’s eyes. But after a moment, their expressions hardened with new determination.