Chapter 26: It Would Be Much More Convenient With a Wheelchair

Later, after her parents passed away, her aunt never liked her. Even when she was made to work like a servant, she was seen only as a burden, let alone being comforted like this.

Gradually, Huan Ya felt she no longer feared pain; in any case, she never shed another tear from being beaten.

Even at the labor agency, when she was about to be sold to a brothel and sliced her own face, she did not cry.

It was only today, seeing Mother Song’s familiar movements and hearing her gentle tone—so much like her own mother’s—that Huan Ya suddenly understood.

It was not that it didn't hurt; it was just that she knew there was no one left to comfort her.

But now, her aunt was comforting her.

Huan Ya tilted her head slightly, hiding the tears threatening to fall, and bit her lip to keep from sobbing.

Once the blisters were lanced, Mother Song brought out a small jar of ointment and applied it gently to Huan Ya’s hands.

"There, all done."

Mother Song straightened up, rubbed her aching back, and smiled. "With this ointment on, you’ll be better by tomorrow."

Huan Ya looked at the white paste on her palms, which carried a faint, pleasant fragrance.

"Mmh!"

She turned to scoop some water, but was stopped by Mother Song: "Let me do it. You’ve just applied the ointment; don't waste it."

Huan Ya blinked: "Alright."

Huan Ya stood obediently to the side, waiting until Mother Song had finished scooping the water before she stepped forward to pull the firewood from the stove.

After the two of them finished washing up, they covered the corn in the courtyard to ensure it wouldn't be stolen by rats.

Before going to sleep, Mother Song went to Song Tiancheng’s room to carry him out.

Leaning by the window, Huan Ya watched as Mother Song carried Song Tiancheng on her back.

She paused as she pulled up her quilt, a thought crossing her mind, and her face flushed.

"It would be so much more convenient if there were a wheelchair," she whispered to herself, beginning to calculate how she might earn some money.

Perhaps, once the corn was finished, she could go to the mountains and have a look?

Her mother had always taught her to identify medicinal herbs, and she had learned quite a lot. Now that it was summer, many medicinal plants were in their growing season. If she could find some valuable ones, she might be able to afford a wheelchair soon!

Lost in thought, Huan Ya fell asleep without even realizing it.

After Mother Song returned Song Tiancheng to his room, she saw the oil lamp still lit in Huan Ya’s room. She pushed the door open gently for a look and found the little girl already fast asleep.

Her fair, tender feet were poking out from under the covers; her ankles and soles were flushed red, and her heels were chafed.

Mother Song paused, listening to Huan Ya’s deep breathing. With a soft sigh, she turned back to her own room to retrieve a jar of ointment for external wounds and slowly applied it to Huan Ya’s feet.

"Nng."

When the medicine touched the wounds, Huan Ya shrank her feet in pain, but soon stretched them out again, complaining of the heat.

"This girl." Mother Song shook her head with a smile, tucked the quilt around her, and closed the window before returning to her own room. She lay down on the kang and fell asleep before long.

The next day, a thin, veil-like mist draped over the sleeping village.

In the distance, wisps of smoke from kitchen fires rose slowly, blending into the pale blue-and-white tones of the horizon. The air was filled with the scent of damp earth and grass, fresh with a touch of chill.

In the Song family courtyard, Mother Song uncovered the corn to check that it hadn't been gnawed by rats, then knocked on Song Tiancheng’s door.

"Mother, I’m awake."

Mother Song replied and pushed open the window. "What would you like to eat? I’ll make it for you."

On the bed, Song Tiancheng sat on the kang with a book in his hand. He smiled and said, "Anything is fine. Anything you make is delicious."

Mother Song smiled and glanced toward the main room. "Huan Ya doesn't seem to be up yet. She must have been worn out yesterday."

As soon as she spoke, footsteps sounded outside, and the door was pushed open.

Mother Song looked up and met Huan Ya’s surprised gaze.

"Aunt, you’re already up!"