Chapter 17: Secrets in Dong Village

 

Cheng Yun walked over to Anan. Only then did he finally notice her.

“Awake?”

“Yeah. Do you have any cold medicine?”

Anan straightened slightly and looked at her. “You caught a cold?”

Cheng Yun shook her head. “Not me. Director Zhang. She probably got chilled while sleeping, and your brother scared her a bit too.”
As she spoke, she glanced at Anan. “Is your brother always like that?”

Anan’s gaze drifted back to the kettle. He shook his head slightly.

“No.”

“Let’s find some medicine first,” Cheng Yun said. “She’s still lying upstairs. Do you have anything?”

“Yes. I’ll go check.”

Before leaving, Anan poured the boiling water into several kettles. Then he pointed toward the small room inside.

“I’ve boiled enough water for you to bathe. There’s a basin and towel inside. I also bought a few things for you. I’ll go get medicine for Director Zhang.”

Cheng Yun pursed her lips.
“What did you buy for me?”

Anan glanced at her, said nothing, and went upstairs.

Cheng Yun chuckled softly and carried the kettle into the room herself.

---

Dong Village was far from the city. Its way of life seemed almost disconnected from modern society.

There was no proper bathroom in Anan’s house—only a small enclosed space about three or four square meters wide. Inside sat a wooden bathing tub. Beside it was a large bucket filled with steaming hot water. A wooden plank nearby had several nails hammered into it for hanging clothes.

Cheng Yun looked over.

Four nails.

On the first hung a white towel.

On the second hung a bra and a pair of underwear.

They appeared to be a matching set—ordinary quality, simple design—but the color was a striking, bright red.

Cheng Yun walked closer.

With two slender fingers, she hooked the bra strap and lifted it to examine it.

Just then, she sensed something.

Turning her head, she saw half a face peeking from behind the wooden plank.

It was Zhou Dongcheng.

His hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed for days, greasy and tangled. His complexion was dull and grayish as he peered silently through the doorway.

Cheng Yun looked at him.

He stared back at her without blinking.

Finally, Cheng Yun raised the bra and pointed at him.

“Does your brother like this style?”

Zhou Dongcheng’s expression remained blank. Hearing her question, he seemed unable to understand. He neither nodded nor denied it.

Cheng Yun waved the bra slightly.

“Such a serious man,” she laughed. “I never expected him to be so bold. It’s not even his zodiac year—why buy something so bright?”

Zhou Dongcheng still didn’t speak.

Cheng Yun put the bra down and stepped toward him.

Zhou Dongcheng seemed startled and tried to leave, but she stopped him.

“Wait. I want to ask you something.”

He stared at her intently.

Standing two steps away, Cheng Yun tilted her head slightly and asked,

“Has your brother ever been with a woman?”

This time Zhou Dongcheng responded quickly.

He nodded.

“Yes.”

Cheng Yun’s expression remained calm.

“What about now?”

Zhou Dongcheng thought for a moment, then shook his head.

“…There was one before.”

His face suddenly twisted with disgust.

“That woman… was bad.”

He gritted his teeth on the word bad, as if he truly hated her.

“Oh?” Cheng Yun said softly, guiding the conversation.
“How was she bad?”

Zhou Dongcheng sniffed.

“She was a liar.”

“A liar about what?”

“A liar!”

Cheng Yun sighed inwardly. Asking like this clearly wouldn’t get her far.

So she changed the subject.

“When did your brother meet her?”

Zhou Dongcheng froze again, as if struggling to recall something.

“…Many years ago.”

“How many years?”

She frowned slightly.

“Your brother is already twenty-seven and still unmarried. That’s unusual in minority villages.”

Zhou Dongcheng lowered his eyes.

“Six… or seven years.”

“Six or seven years?” Cheng Yun hadn’t expected that.
“They only dated once and never again?”

The look of hatred returned to Zhou Dongcheng’s face.

“She ruined Anan.”

Cheng Yun remained silent, sensing there was more.

“She cheated him of all his money!”

“…Ah.”

Cheng Yun couldn’t help letting out a soft sound.

Swindled out of money?

For someone like Anan, that must have been devastating.

She looked at Zhou Dongcheng again.

“What about you? I heard from Anan that you’re married. Where is your wife?”

The moment she asked, Zhou Dongcheng’s expression grew increasingly blank.

He looked confused, as if trying to solve a question that had no answer.

He began mumbling something in the Dong dialect—words Cheng Yun couldn’t understand at all.

After muttering for a while, he suddenly started shouting repeatedly.

Cheng Yun instinctively stepped back, placing her hand on the door, ready to leave at any moment.

Then she heard hurried footsteps outside.

The door opened.

Anan rushed past her and went around to the back of the wooden hut, pulling Zhou Dongcheng away.

The two spoke behind the building.

Although Cheng Yun couldn’t understand their language, she could clearly recognize Anan’s voice.

His tone was calm—not loud, not panicked.

As if he was already used to this situation.

After a while, the voices faded.

Zhou Dongcheng walked out from behind the hut, avoided Cheng Yun’s gaze entirely, and left the house.

Anan remained standing behind him.

Only after his brother disappeared did he turn to Cheng Yun.

“Did he scare you?”

“What happened?” Cheng Yun asked.

Anan pressed his lips together.

She continued,

“At least tell me what topics to avoid. We were talking perfectly fine.”

Anan looked outside, took a slow breath, then said quietly,

“His wife.”

“What happened to his wife?”

“She ran away with someone else.”

“….”

Cheng Yun opened her mouth, then stopped halfway.

“Your family really…”

Anan looked at her. “Hmm?”

“Nothing,” Cheng Yun said quickly.

Better not make things worse.

She took off her coat.

“I’m going to take a shower. Did you find the medicine?”

“She already took it and fell asleep. She should be fine.”

Cheng Yun nodded and closed the door.

“Oh, right—”

Before shutting it completely, she peeked out through the crack.

“The style is pretty good.”

“…”

---

The small bathing space quickly filled with steam.

Cheng Yun removed her clothes, but soon realized there was nowhere left to hang them.

Her trench coat and trousers already occupied the last two nails.

She knocked on the door.

“Are you leaving?”

Silence outside.

She didn’t want to waste the hot water.

Just as she was considering tossing her clothes over the wooden board, Anan’s voice came from outside.

“Hmm?”

“You’re still there?” she asked.

“Yes.”

“Help me take these. There’s nowhere to hang them.”

Footsteps approached the door.

Cheng Yun draped her sweater over the board.

Anan pulled it down from the other side.

Next came her thermal underwear.

He took that too.

Finally, only her bra remained in Cheng Yun’s hand.

It was handmade—light blue with black embroidery and a low neckline.

“Anything else?” Anan asked.

Cheng Yun stood naked behind the board.

The door was the only thing separating them.

She thought for a moment.

Then she put the bra on—but didn’t let go of the strap.

She hooked one finger around it.

Anan pulled.

But it didn’t move.

He assumed it was caught somewhere and shook it lightly before pulling again.

Still nothing.

Cheng Yun smiled silently.

She gently tugged the strap twice.

She could feel the tension through her finger.

Perhaps he was holding it with a finger as well.

After teasing him for a moment, she finally released it.

The bra snapped away elastically into his hand.

Several seconds of silence followed.

Then Anan’s muffled voice came from the other side of the door.

“…Anything else?”

“No.”

“I’ll put the clothes on the stool. I’m closing the door. When you finish washing, you can come out.”

“Okay.”

---

With such limited equipment, Cheng Yun finished quickly.

No matter the environment, in cold weather a hot bath always felt wonderful.

The bucket looked small, but it was enough.

After drying herself, Cheng Yun put on the underwear Anan had bought.

The quality was average—stiff fabric that rubbed slightly against her skin.

Once dressed, she opened the door.

The house was quiet.

She finished dressing outside, dried her feet, slipped into her sneakers, and poured the remaining hot water into a basin.

Anan was tidying things near the doorway when he saw her.

“Finished washing?”

“Not yet,” Cheng Yun replied while bending down. “I still need to wash my hair.”

She looked at the things he was sorting.

“What are you doing?”

“Cleaning up. I haven’t been back in a long time.”

“Where’s your brother?”

“He went out.”

“You just let him wander like that?”

Anan looked over.

Cheng Yun had already dipped her long black hair into the basin, eyes closed as she spoke.

“It’s fine,” he said. “Everyone in the village knows not to mention certain things to him.”

“Does your brother love your sister-in-law very much?”

Anan answered after a pause.

“Very much.”

Cheng Yun chuckled softly and continued washing her hair.

---

Later, after drying her hair with a towel, she saw Anan preparing to leave.

“Where are you going?”

“To check the waxberry trees at home.”

“You have waxberry trees?” she asked curiously.

Anan glanced at her.

“There shouldn’t be any fruit left now. I’m just going to look.”

“I’ll go with you.”

She checked on Director Zhang upstairs, left a note by her pillow, then put on her coat and came downstairs.

“Let’s go.”

Anan looked at her hair.

“Wait a bit.”

“Why?”

“Your hair isn’t dry yet.”

The sun was bright and warm.

Cheng Yun smiled.

“It’ll dry while we walk.”

---

They left Dong Village from the north side.

Below the hillside were small terraced fields, but the harvest season had already passed.

Anan led her into the mountains along a narrow footpath worn by years of walking.

The trail was rough.

“Why don’t you build a road here?” Cheng Yun asked.

“Only a few families use this path.”

“How many waxberry trees do you have?”

“Not many.”

After walking a short distance through thick branches, Anan pushed the foliage aside so Cheng Yun could pass first.

She poked him lightly.

“Quite the gentleman.”

Soon they arrived.

Cheng Yun looked at the so-called waxberry grove and frowned.

An open patch of land.

Barely a dozen trees stood there.

They looked neglected—branches drooping, leaves withered, as if no one had cared for them in years.

When the wind blew, the thin branches swayed weakly, giving the place a lonely feeling.

“Are you sure these are waxberry trees?” Cheng Yun asked.

Anan walked down toward them.

“Yes.”

Cheng Yun crossed her arms.

“Are you trying to grow them like cacti or something?”

Anan seemed used to her teasing.

He simply replied softly,

“No.”