The Fortunate Lady and Her Mountain Man

Chapter 215: Chapter 215: Two Slaps

The two of them started talking about other things.

"You’re certainly thorough, locking up both the front and back yards. We’re so close by, are you really worried something will happen to Dabao? Or are you trying to guard against the vagabond?"

Hu Liang found Ji Huan a bit contradictory. ’If she’s so wary of him, why did she save him in the first place?’

"Better safe than sorry. I can’t handle another scare."

As for whether she was guarding against the vagabond...

Ji Huan didn’t deny it. Part of the reason she was so eager to heal him was that she wanted to send him on his way sooner rather than later.

Once that happened, she would have done all she could, and the vagabond could fend for himself.

She and Dabao would have repaid the favor and rid themselves of a problem. They could then shut their door and continue living their peaceful lives with a clear conscience.

’How perfect.’

It took over an hour, but they finally finished weeding, sweeping, and scrubbing everything that needed it—inside and out, front and back—leaving the place spotless.

They had lunch at Ji Huan’s house.

Ji Huan prepared a few dishes, partly to reward the Hu brothers for their work, and partly to let Hu Liang get some proper rest. The afternoon was going to be busy.

After the meal, Ji Huan packed a portion of the food she had set aside into a basket and sent Hu Dacheng home with it. She also told him to ask Widow Xie if she could find any of Uncle Hu’s old clothes.

If not, Hu Liang’s would do. She needed them for the afternoon.

When Hu Dacheng trotted back with a set of patched clothes that were still in decent shape, Ji Huan remembered she also needed a flatbed cart.

Hu Dacheng put on a grown-up act and sighed dramatically at her, then scurried home again to fetch the cart.

By the time the cart arrived, they had rested enough.

Ji Huan and Hu Liang pulled the cart over to the lean-to.

During lunch, Ji Huan had come over to bring the vagabond his food as usual and had informed him that they would be moving him elsewhere in the afternoon.

"He... agreed?" Hu Liang glanced at the vagabond, who remained in the same, motionless posture. ’The man is like a stone statue, completely devoid of life.’

"He didn’t refuse, which I take as a yes."

Hu Liang was speechless. ’...So that’s how it works.’

’Well, I’m just here to help. Whatever Ji Huan says, goes.’

Working together, they lifted the straw mat off the lean-to. They then moved to the vagabond’s side and, carefully avoiding his wounds, supported him by his arms, one on each side.

In what seemed like an instinctual defense or a conditioned reflex, Hu Liang felt the vagabond tense up instantly, his limbs about to resist.

Ji Huan smacked his left arm. "Relax!"

Then she smacked his left leg. "Lift it! Don’t put your foot down!"

Hu Liang could never forget the terrifying sight in the cave, so he subconsciously avoided looking the vagabond in the eye. He had no idea what expression the man was making.

All he knew was that after Ji Huan’s two smacks, the vagabond became even more rigid, but he stopped trying to break free from their hold.

’I guess he feels the same way I do.’

’An angry Ji Huan is not to be trifled with...’

Hu Liang took the vagabond to the earthen house first on the flatbed cart, while Ji Huan stayed behind to clean up.

In truth, there wasn’t much to clean up at the lean-to.

There were just a pair of crutches, which Ji Huan had commissioned from a carpenter in town the day she discovered the extent of the vagabond’s injuries, providing him with a sketch.

He’d made them quickly enough, but the shape was a bit odd.

She had clearly drawn the underarm crutches from the comedy sketch *Selling Crutches*, but whether her drawing skills had declined or the carpenter had misunderstood, he had somehow made them into inverted triangles. ’Well, they’re barely usable, I guess.’

The day she brought the crutches, she first demonstrated how to use them. Then, in an almost clinical tone, she told the vagabond: "When you need to relieve yourself, remember to use the crutches. Put your weight on your left arm and right leg..."

Thankfully, the vagabond was willing to continue playing the fool. Otherwise, teaching a grown man how to do his business... ’The thought alone is pretty awkward.’

Besides the crutches, there were also two quilts.

One was the old quilt Ji Huan had gotten from the Hu family when she first built the lean-to. Later, Widow Xie had spared another one.

The Hu family had gradually replaced all their quilts with new ones. Although they couldn’t bear to throw away the old cotton batting, they had no immediate use for it. So, steeling herself, Widow Xie had simply given one to the vagabond.

The first quilt had been used as a mattress pad. Even with a straw mat underneath, the dampness from the ground had made it dirty and moist.

Ji Huan had no intention of keeping it. She picked up the crutches and the other old quilt—the one that had arrived recently and was still relatively clean and fresh—and went back to her house. After some deliberation, she chose her least favorite new quilt, grabbed a bedsheet, and carried them all to the earthen house.

The flatbed cart was parked at the entrance to the main room. The vagabond was still lying on it, his face completely hidden by his hair.

Ji Huan looked at Hu Liang. He coughed and looked up at the sky.

’You couldn’t really blame him. This place was creepy enough on its own. Add to that the vagabond’s brutally disfigured face... it was about as terrifying as it gets. So...’

"Why’d you bring a new quilt? If my mother finds out, she’ll start nagging you again."

"Then let’s not let Aunt Xie know for now."

Ji Huan knew he was deliberately changing the subject. She gestured for him to push open the door to the main room.

The ancient wooden door let out a piercing CREAK. Hu Liang sucked in a breath and couldn’t help but hug his arms and shiver.

"I’ll grease the hinges later. It’s like this because no one has lived here for a long time..."

Ji Huan entered with the quilts. The kang was already covered with a mat, another hand-me-down from the Hu family.

Ji Huan spread the old quilt over the kang mat, then covered it with the bedsheet.

The new quilt, already in its duvet cover, was set aside for him to use at night.

Seeing the bed was made, Hu Liang asked, "Should we move him up now?"

"In his current state? If we just put him up there, what was the point of me going to the trouble of getting him a new quilt?"

Hu Liang thought about it. ’That makes sense.’

"Then what should we do?"

"What else? Give him a bath."

"A bath? Who’s going to wash him?"

Ji Huan pointed at herself, then at him. "Us."

Hu Liang nearly choked on his own saliva.

"You... you... Don’t do anything reckless!"

Ji Huan rolled her eyes at him. "Where is your mind going? I’ll be in charge of boiling the water. You’ll be in charge of washing him."

"...Oh." This emotional rollercoaster was a bit much for Hu Liang’s heart.

Boiling water at Ji Huan’s house and carrying it over was obviously impractical. That’s why, during the morning cleanup, Ji Huan had Hu Liang tidy up the kitchen here as well.

Hu Liang moved the bathtub, carried the chopped firewood, and hauled buckets of water, working up a sweat.

He didn’t get a chance to catch his breath until Ji Huan sat down to heat the pot.

Ji Huan took advantage of the break to explain the important points to him in detail.

"Don’t let him get in the tub. Just have him sit on the stool, and you can wash him with a wet cloth... Be especially careful not to get water on his wounds... Also, watch him. His right hand and left foot absolutely cannot move around..."

Hu Liang’s expression didn’t betray too much, but inside, he was dying of embarrassment.

’How can she, a young woman, so calmly discuss... discuss giving another man a bath with me... and act like it’s the most natural thing in the world?’

Hu Liang forced himself to listen, feeling so awkward he didn’t know what to do with his hands and feet.

When he heard Ji Huan announce that the water was boiling, he felt like he’d received a pardon. He hastily ladled the hot water into a basin and carried it, basin by basin, into the main room.

The bathtub was already filled with cold water; all he had to do was add the hot water.

As Hu Liang poured, Ji Huan stirred the water with her hand. When the temperature felt about right, she called out, "Stop."

This time, without Ji Huan’s help, Hu Liang managed to get the vagabond off the cart by himself and helped him over to the stool beside the tub.

Ji Huan rummaged in the folds of the new quilt for a moment and pulled out a few strips of cloth. She walked over to the vagabond, knelt down, took his bandaged right hand, and wrapped one of the strips around it.

"This is oilcloth. It doesn’t let water through easily, but it’s not completely waterproof, so you still need to be careful."

As she spoke, Ji Huan gave the vagabond’s other wrist and his ankles the same treatment.

Finally, she pointed to the kang. "The clean clothes and shoes are at the end of the kang. After you’re done..."

"I’ve got it, I’ve got it all, just get out of here!" Hu Liang urged Ji Huan to leave.

He had a feeling that if his mother knew what he and Ji Huan were doing right now, his one-in-ten-thousand chance of being forgiven would go up in smoke.

Ji Huan gave the vagabond one last one-sided warning to keep his hands and feet to himself, and then she left.

Hu Liang quickly bolted the main room’s door from the inside, fastening it tightly.

He had just breathed a sigh of relief when he turned and found himself facing the vagabond, who sat there perfectly still, somehow in perfect sync with the room’s chilly atmosphere. He immediately regretted it.

’Why is this person so terrifying...?’

’What do I do? I really want to call Ji Huan back in...’

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