Transmigrated as an Unwanted Ugly Girl

Zheng Changhe, Qingmu, and Mrs. Yang walked into the house, tossing their hoes under the eaves to let the rain wash off the mud. The family exchanged smiles, feeling as though they’d survived an ordeal.

Juhua saw the sheet of rain connecting heaven and earth, a blur of white that obscured the distant fields and the village’s outline. Water in the center of the courtyard rushed into the drainage ditches on all sides. Even though the ditches had been dug deeper, they couldn’t immediately contain the torrents, which furiously spilled out of the yard. The rain continued to pour from the sky, as if determined to release all the water it had held back for days.

The chickens huddled together under the eaves, their feathers soaked by the splashing rain. Every so often, one would shake its entire body, sending droplets flying. They watched the downpour without any anxiety, even letting out a leisurely, soft cluck or two. The shelter of the eaves must have given them a great sense of peace.

Listening to the successive peals of thunder and watching lightning tear across the sky, Zheng Changhe laughed heartily. "Let it rain! This is a perfect chance for us to rest at home for a couple of days. Juhua, what should we make for dinner tonight?"

Seeing his expression, Juhua couldn’t help but smile. ’Now that the work is done, he finally has the leisure to think about food.’ She’d been busy helping out for the last two days as well, so she hadn’t had time to cook proper meals. They’d just been making do with some stewed shrimp paste and stir-fried greens.

She asked, "Dad, what do you feel like eating? How about some braised pork belly?" The dish was a perennial favorite among country folk.

When Zheng Changhe heard her suggest braised pork belly, he grew a little reluctant to use the meat. Before he could decide what he wanted, Mrs. Yang said, "Let’s cook that pig’s head. It’s the last one, right? We should finish it up. It’s been long enough; it won’t keep much longer."

Qingmu nodded eagerly. "Yeah! Let’s cook the pig’s head. I haven’t had that in ages."

On a day of such torrential rain, the family was cooped up in their house, chatting, eating, and drinking. Even though it was a thatched-roof cottage, the warmth and sense of security were palpable. Compared to sleeping in the wild or having no food to fill their bellies, the feeling of home was remarkably distinct and powerful.

But the heavy rain, unexpectedly, lasted for several days. The hardworking farmers could no longer sit still—if this kept up, the rice seedlings in the paddies would drown. One by one, they donned their bamboo hats, threw on their straw rain capes, shouldered their hoes, and hurried out to the fields.

Zheng Changhe had been restless for a while. Seeing no sign of the downpour letting up, he put on his rain gear, shouldered his hoe, and went out as well. His family had planted a lot of rice this year. After all their hard work during this first year, if it all got flooded, it would be enough to make them cry.

After days of pouring rain, the river and ponds had overflowed their banks. Whenever the rain lessened enough to see outside, all that met the eye was a vast, white expanse of water.

But the heavens seemed to ignore their worries as the rain continued to fall. Its intensity varied, occasionally erupting into a torrential downpour.

Juhua anxiously watched the waters of the Little Qing River slowly creep up, submerging the grassy banks and the fields. ’I hope this doesn’t turn into a major flood,’ she thought. ’If some massive, rare flood happens, wouldn’t our entire spring’s work have been for nothing?’

Mrs. Yang stared at the rain outside, sighing incessantly. She didn’t even have the heart for her sewing.

The village path Qingmu took to school was already deeply flooded; he had to roll his pant legs way up to wade through. When he came home for lunch, he said that parts of the village were on lower ground, and for some families who hadn’t dug their drainage ditches deep enough, water had already started to seep into their houses.

Zheng Changhe returned after checking on the fields. He said that he’d opened all the irrigation ditches to drain into the river, but the river was so high it was now flowing back into the fields. In some of the lower-lying spots, the paddies were already completely flooded, with the seedlings submerged up to their tips.

If this rain didn’t stop soon, it seemed their whole spring’s work would truly be for nothing.

The family could find no peace. They ate a hasty meal and went to bed with heavy hearts, their sleep troubled and fitful.

Juhua, for her part, was terrified of a great flood. ’If the water rises, what should I grab first? I’d definitely have to take the silver. And the clothes. Tomorrow, I’ll have Qingmu move some food up the mountain and hide it.’ She drifted into a hazy sleep filled with these jumbled thoughts.

The next morning, Juhua awoke to the crisp chirping of birds on the mountain behind the house, and the swallows in the rafters chattered endlessly. Hearing the familiar, joyous sounds, a wave of joy washed over her. It must mean the rain had stopped—birds don’t sing like that during a heavy rain.

She scrambled out of bed. Gazing at the rosy clouds outside her window, a feeling of pure relief washed over her. ’The sun’s out, too! Hehe, everything’s going to be okay!’

After the rain, the sky and the earth were exceptionally crisp and clean. The azure sky looked as if it had been washed, the vegetation was fresh, and its green was almost overwhelming. In the vegetable garden, vegetables like Huang Gua and peppers stretched their emerald leaves toward the sun. Swallows dipped low in the sky, one moment soaring, the next darting back to their mud nests under the eaves.

Juhua opened the chicken pen, and the chickens swarmed out. Without even waiting for her to feed them, they rushed to the rain-soaked grass. The ducks, even more frisky, scampered toward the riverbank. They didn’t enter the river itself but foraged in the grassy hollows and ditches—the rising water had left behind plenty of treats, an abundance of tiny fish and shrimp. Qingmu also led the ox out to graze by the mountainside, its MOOs sounding continuously along the way.

Without waiting for breakfast, Zheng Changhe shouldered his hoe and headed for the fields. The worry on his face was gone, replaced by a relaxed smile.

The sky had cleared, and it was as if all of nature had been freed from its worry. People emerged from their homes. Some went to the fields to check on their crops, some shouldered nets to catch fish wherever they could, and others were just out to have fun—after all, the vast sheet of white water hadn’t fully receded yet.

As Juhua went about her chores, she felt a pang of regret that Qingmu was at school; it would have been so much fun to go catch fish and shrimp with him. At a time like this, you could even scoop up fish from the irrigation ditches. They had all been carried in when the rivers and ponds flooded. If your luck was good, you might even snag a big one.

Just as her hands were itching to go, she saw Zheng Changhe coming home and hurried to ask, "Dad, are you busy today?"

Zheng Changhe said, "What would I be busy with? Just the usual odds and ends. Do you need Dad to do something for you?" (To be continued. If you enjoy this novel, please consider supporting the author with your recommendation votes and monthly passes on Qidian.com. Your support is my greatest motivation.)