Chapter 21 The Wedding Dress
After we returned to the residence, I lay on the bed without moving. The wedding dress I had kept at the bottom of the chest lay on the other side of the bed.
Fugeer stayed by me the whole time. "Sister, eat something."
"If you're truly unhappy, hit me or scold me, anything. Just don't torment yourself."
A strip of gauze showed at his neck that he could have covered.
I gave a mocking smile. "Wouldn't it suit you better if I were dead?"
Fugeer's face went white. He had been watching over me without eating either. His body had never been strong, and my words made him tremble.
The porcelain bowl smashed onto the floor. Fugeer loomed over me, teeth clenched. "Sister, you know perfectly well what I care about most."
His pale face was inches away. Fugeer had truly grown up—sharp brows, deep eyes, a look that made people fall silent without him raising his voice. Our farming household never produced a child who looked like this.
When I first picked him up, Fugeer was only six, mixed in with a pack of little beggars. The thin one was the one they bullied.
My little dog had died that day. Seeing Fugeer made me think of my Fugui, so I took him home.
I was an orphan too. A few years earlier plague hit the village and my parents both died.
I got by picking wheat from other people's fields. The villagers knew my situation and said nothing. Sometimes a few extra bags of rice would appear at home.
But Fugeer was far too delicate. He fell sick every few days. I had to go into the mountains for herbs, sell them for money, and buy him medicine and fine rice.
I gave him the name Fugeer, hoping he would grow up well and not end up like my Fugui.
He was a good child. When he felt a little better he followed me into the mountains. He was clever and could set traps for plenty of game, so my load lightened a lot.