Atypical Blood Clan Contract - Chapter 9

Chapter 9: Rural Village

“Ugh—ugh—”

“Xiaoyou, what’s wrong?” Shi Dahai jumped back in alarm, standing helplessly by his side.

Qin Xiaoyou emptied his stomach, his mouth filling with bitter and sour tastes. He swayed weakly, and Shi Dahai quickly steadied him, anxiously looking around for help.

Curious students gathered around, chattering and asking questions:

“What’s wrong with Xiaoyou?”

“Did he eat something bad? Look at him throwing up…”

“He should go home and drink some Noon Tea. That’ll stop the vomiting.”

“Yeah, Noon Tea works wonders! Last time I had diarrhea, my mom gave me a packet of Noon Tea, and it stopped right away.”

“That was diarrhea, not vomiting.”

“Hey, Noon Tea isn’t just for stomachaches and diarrhea—it also helps with nausea and vomiting… It has all sorts of benefits!”

“Stop arguing! Let’s get him home first!”

“I’ll carry him!”

A tall, athletic boy acted decisively, hoisting Qin Xiaoyou onto his back without hesitation, despite the vomit on the ground. He strode toward the village, Shi Dahai following anxiously behind.

Pale-faced, Qin Xiaoyou clung to the boy’s back, gritting his teeth to suppress the urge to vomit.

Ten minutes later, the trio crossed the narrow field path and reached the village. The boy stopped, panting heavily.

Feeling slightly better, Qin Xiaoyou patted the boy’s shoulder and said weakly, “Put… put me down. I can walk on my own now.”

The boy gently lowered him to the ground. As Qin Xiaoyou’s toes touched the earth, his legs buckled, and he stumbled backward. Shi Dahai swiftly caught him.

“Careful,” Shi Dahai warned.

“Or… should I just carry you home?” the boy offered.

Qin Xiaoyou steadied himself, shook his head, took a deep breath, and said gratefully, “Brother Liu, thank you.”

The boy called Brother Liu was Liu Qi, a year older than Qin Xiaoyou and Shi Dahai, and a fourth-grade student at Wanhong Primary School.

“No need to thank me, no need to thank me,” Liu Qi said, scratching his bald head with a bashful grin. “Oh, right! Xiao Hei told me you guys are going to the mountains tomorrow afternoon. Can I join you?”

Xiao Hei’s full name was Xu Qian, also a fourth-grader and Liu Qi’s desk mate.

Qin Xiaoyou wiped his face, trying to look more alert. “Sure! We’re even planning a picnic by Yanshii Creek.”

“A picnic?” Liu Qi’s eyes lit up. “My family just made fresh nian gao yesterday—it’s so sticky, fragrant, and delicious! Would five pieces be enough?”

The village children were all enthusiastic about mountain picnics. They brought their own picnic gear and food, divided tasks clearly, and worked together seamlessly.

“That’s enough,” Qin Xiaoyou said, rubbing his stomach to suppress the acid reflux and banishing the terrifying images from his mind.

Seeing his still-pale complexion, Shi Dahai and Liu Qi escorted him home.

As they passed the threshing ground, Qin Xiaoyou suddenly stopped, staring blankly ahead.

“Xiaoyou?” Shi Dahai turned, puzzled.

Qin Xiaoyou seemed not to hear, his gaze fixed on a group of people in the distance.

More precisely, on a golden-haired man surrounded by villagers.

The man was tall, dressed in an expensive gray suit. His features were sharply defined, his skin snow-white, and his waist-length golden hair was meticulously tied back. Standing among the simply dressed villagers, he stood out like a crane among chickens.

“He… he’s…” Shi Dahai’s jaw dropped in astonishment.

Liu Qi was equally stunned, his eyes wide with disbelief.

“Mr. Li!”

Qin Xiaoyou, suddenly shedding his earlier weakness, seemed filled with renewed energy. He sprinted toward the golden-haired man.

Surrounded by villagers, Mr. Li heard a familiar, crisp voice. He looked up to see the boy running toward him, a warm smile spreading across his handsome face.

“Xiaoyou,” he greeted gently.

Qin Xiaoyou skidded to a halt in front of Mr. Li, his hands gripping his backpack straps nervously. He tilted his head back, his cheeks flushed and his eyes bright and clear. “Mr. Li, what are you doing here?”

Having known Mr. Li for over a year, Xiaoyou had never seen him in the village before.

“I came to buy soy sauce,” Mr. Li replied, lifting the glass bottle in his hand.

Qin Xiaoyou stared in disbelief at the “soy sauce bottle.”

Mr. Li was actually using a beautifully crafted wine bottle to store soy sauce!

It felt like a terrible waste of something precious.

But then again, wasn’t this kind of “rough work” usually done by Butler Luo? Why had Mr. Li personally come to the village store for soy sauce today?

Xiaoyou’s mind swirled with questions, his large, puzzled eyes blinking in confusion.

Noticing his bewilderment, Mr. Li reached out to pat his head, his fingers brushing lightly across his forehead as he patiently explained, “Butler Luo is preparing dinner. Since I had some free time, I decided to come get the soy sauce myself.”

Qin Xiaoyou was dazed, the terrifying images flashing through his mind blurred like pixelated mosaics. The chill in his body dissipated, and his churning stomach settled.

“So… that’s how it is?” he murmured.

“Xiaoyou, did you just get out of school?” Mr. Li asked, lowering his hand.

“Mhm—” Qin Xiaoyou snapped back to attention, gazing at Mr. Li’s handsome, gentle face. He blurted out, “Mr. Li, would you like to come to my house for a visit?”

The words had barely left his mouth when he bit his lip in regret.

Mr. Li was rushing home to deliver soy sauce. How could he possibly have time to visit?

“Alright,” Mr. Li replied unexpectedly, agreeing without hesitation.

Qin Xiaoyou stared in disbelief, stammering, “The soy sauce…”

Mr. Li winked mischievously. “Don’t worry, we still have a little left at home. It’s enough for Butler Luo.”

Hearing this, Qin Xiaoyou’s excitement surged. He grabbed Mr. Li’s hand, his small tiger teeth gleaming with joy. “I’ll take you to my house!”

Mr. Li nodded indulgently, adjusting his pace to match Qin Xiaoyou’s short strides as they walked together.

As they moved further away, the villagers began pointing and whispering. For many, this was their first time seeing a golden-haired, blue-eyed foreigner, and the sight was both novel and intriguing.

Shi Dahai and Liu Qi, who had been forgotten in the commotion, exchanged a glance.

As everyone knew, a magnificent villa stood across the river from Wanhong Village. The villa was inhabited by a mysterious foreigner who never ventured into the village. Only his young, black-haired butler with green eyes occasionally emerged to purchase supplies.

From childhood, the village children were strictly warned by their parents never to cross the river. The reasons remained unexplained, but the solemn tone of the warnings was enough to ignite the children’s wild imaginations.

The foreigner had three heads and six arms, a hideous face, and a gaping, blood-red mouth that devoured children.

The villa was a dragon’s lair, a tiger’s den—once inside, no one ever escaped.

Even the adults dared not approach it, let alone the children.

Butler Luo must have been threatened by the foreigner. Why else would a man with a Chongxia Nation face have green eyes?

Only a curse could change one’s eye color!

Rumors about the foreigner spread like wildfire through the village, each retelling more exaggerated than the last. Over time, the villagers grew deeply superstitious, avoiding any mention of him and keeping their lips sealed.

Now, a golden-haired, blue-eyed foreigner had suddenly appeared in Wanhong Village. The villagers who saw him were astonished, but Shi Dahai and Liu Qi stared with wide-eyed disbelief.

The foreigner living across the river was nothing like the terrifying figure of legend. On the contrary, he was strikingly handsome—even more so than Teacher Huo!

What astonished them most was how familiar Xiaoyou and the foreigner seemed, so familiar that Xiaoyou had invited him to their home as a guest.

The moment Qin Xiaoyou met Mr. Li, he was overjoyed, completely forgetting his friends. His stomach felt better, his limbs regained their strength, and his spirits soared. A goofy grin stretched across his face, nearly reaching his ears, as he chuckled all the way home.

As he stepped through the courtyard gate, he shouted, “Mom, Mom, I’m back!”

Wang Chunlan, who was chopping vegetables in the kitchen, heard the commotion. She put down her cleaver, grabbed the thick wooden stick she had prepared earlier, and stormed out, ready to confront him.

That little rascal never learns anything good, only bad habits! Lying and deceiving people—if I don’t beat his backside raw, I’m not Wang Chunlan!

“You little brat—cough, cough, cough—”

Wang Chunlan’s breath caught in her throat, stuck halfway down, nearly choking her. She stared dumbfounded at the golden-haired foreigner in his Western suit, who bowed elegantly in a gentlemanly greeting.

“Good day, madam. I apologize for the intrusion.”

A melodious male voice echoed through the courtyard, deep and sensual like the resonant tones of a cello, sending shivers down one’s spine.

Wang Chunlan’s mouth fell open as she instinctively hid the wooden stick behind her back, a suspicious blush creeping across her usually thick-skinned cheeks.

“H-hello!”

Good heavens!

How did that foreigner from across the river get into the village? And why is he here with my good-for-nothing son?

How should I entertain him?

Wang Chunlan froze in a panic, but Qin Xiaoyou had already taken charge of hosting their guest.

“Mr. Li, please come in,” he said, guiding Mr. Li through the gate.

Unlike villas, rural homes typically open directly into the main hall, where an eight-person square table served as both dining and reception area.

The Qin family’s eight-person square table was quite old, said to be an antique passed down from their great-grandfather. Over the years, half the lacquer had worn away, one corner was missing, and the four long benches were so worn that their original patterns were completely unrecognizable.

It wasn’t that the Qin family didn’t value antiques; the table had already been only sixty percent new when they inherited it, and prolonged use inevitably led to further wear and tear.

Besides, for the impoverished villagers, unsold antiques were worthless. They were lucky if they weren’t dismantled and burned for firewood.

The main hall was sparsely furnished, containing only the eight-person square table. Its bareness made it seem utterly destitute, a true case of “four walls and nothing else.”

Wang Chunlan gazed at Mr. Li’s high-end Western suit, which stood in stark contrast to their humble surroundings. She felt a pang of shame, inwardly scolding her son for his recklessness in bringing a guest home without warning, leaving her completely unprepared.

Unlike Wang Chunlan’s embarrassment, Qin Xiaoyou was beaming with delight. Following the principle of reciprocity, he invited Mr. Li to sit on a bench at the square table, tossed his schoolbag aside, and skipped into the kitchen. He opened the cabinet, stood on tiptoe, and reached for the tea canister on the top shelf.

Whenever he visited Mr. Li’s home, Butler Luo would brew him delicious milk tea. Since they didn’t have milk tea at home, he naturally wanted to serve their finest tea to their guest.

The tea canister on the top shelf was his mother’s prized possession. It contained Maojian tea, reportedly purchased by his father at a high price from the town market. She only used a few leaves to serve truly important guests.

Mr. Li was an important guest, so Qin Xiaoyou naturally had to brew Maojian tea for him.

After struggling to retrieve the tea canister, Qin Xiaoyou generously scooped a handful of leaves into a glass cup. He poured hot water from the thermos, filling it about eight-tenths full, placed it on a tray, and carefully carried it out.

Wang Chunlan steadied herself, set her wooden stick outside the door, and looked up just as Qin Xiaoyou emerged with the tea. Her eyes nearly popped out of their sockets.

Aaaah!

Does this little brat even know how to brew tea?!

A thick layer of tea leaves, at least fifty grams, floated in the glass cup!

The Maojian tea they had bought was of mid-to-high quality, costing thirty yuan per fifty grams. The ten-fifty-gram canister was reserved for esteemed guests, and over the past year, they had only used a hundred grams.

And now, just to entertain a foreigner from across the river, the little brat had used fifty grams in one go!

Wang Chunlan’s heart ached with distress, but with a guest present, she couldn’t spank her son’s bottom.

“Mr. Li, please have some tea,” Qin Xiaoyou said, ignoring his mother’s fierce glare as he placed the cup on the table.

“Thank you,” Mr. Li replied with a gentle smile, his eyes lingering on the thick layer of tea leaves in the glass.

“You’re welcome,” Qin Xiaoyou said, cradling the tray and tilting his head. “Mr. Li, do you like roasted sweet potatoes?”

They didn’t have cookies or bread, but they did have roasted sweet potatoes. When he’d gone into the kitchen earlier, the rich aroma had told him there were more roasting in the stove.

Mr. Li met the child’s eager gaze with a smile. “I haven’t tried it before, but I’m willing to give it a try.”

“Just a moment!” Seeing that Mr. Li hadn’t refused, Qin Xiaoyou excitedly turned and darted back into the kitchen.

Wang Chunlan took a deep breath, suppressing the urge to spank her son’s bottom. With a warm smile, she asked, “Mr. Li… do you have important business in the village?”

No one visits the Three Treasures Hall without a reason.

Mr. Li hadn’t set foot in the village for years, yet he came straight to their home upon his arrival. This made her suspicious.

No matter how lively and adorable Xiaoyou was, he was still just a village boy. What could possibly have earned him Mr. Li’s favor?

They belonged to different worlds, and their paths would never cross in the future. Wang Chunlan worried that Xiaoyou would feel a sense of inferiority when he grew up, which was why she had repeatedly forbidden him from going across the river.

Since the recent incident in the village, Wang Chunlan had kept a close watch on Xiaoyou, preventing him from going across the river. However, she never imagined that even if her son stayed away, someone from across the river would come to them.

Troubled, Wang Chunlan asked indirectly.

Mr. Li’s gaze drifted casually to the wine bottle on the table. With polite grace, he replied, “I came to buy soy sauce.”

Author’s Note:

Butler Luo: Actually… we don’t need soy sauce at home.

Mr. Li: Is that so? ^ ^