The Girl is Beautiful but Violent

Chapter 7

The door creaked softly as Jiang Ning silently slipped out of the room.

Liu Ming'an's house was modest: three thatched-roof huts comprising a main room, a kitchen, and a storage area filled with firewood and farming tools. Next to the storage room was a small outhouse. A wattle fence enclosed a yard where several plots of vegetables grew. Jiang Ning immediately spotted the bitter greens she had eaten for four meals straight; they were thriving, their leaves a lush green and their stems thick and sturdy—a pleasing sight.

The sky began to lighten, a faint blush of red appearing on the horizon. Jiang Ning looked up to see the village peacefully slumbering, with misty mountains looming in the distance and the occasional bark of a dog breaking the silence.

This scene perfectly matched Jiang Ning's imagined ideal of rural countryside living.

After observing for a moment, she returned to the house and entered the kitchen. In the dim light of dawn, she filled a basin with water and washed away the medicinal paste that had caked on her face.

"Cock-a-doodle-doo!" As daylight broke, the rooster from yesterday crowed right on schedule. Having lost her sense of time, Jiang Ning estimated it to be around 7:30 AM based on experience.

"Not bad, at least this rooster knows its place," Jiang Ning thought wryly. If it had dared to start crowing at five or six, she would have guaranteed to wring its neck.

The crowing roused Liu Ming'an, who had fallen asleep at the table. He rubbed his eyes and rotated his stiff, aching neck, instinctively glancing towards the bed. In an instant, all traces of sleepiness vanished.

The bed was empty!

All that remained were the turned-back covers and scattered splints and bandages. The injured person who should have been lying there had vanished.

Liu Ming'an took two steps forward, his face paling as he stared at the empty bed.

Where had she gone?

"Are you looking for me?" A cool female voice suddenly came from behind him. It was Jiang Ning!

Liu Ming'an quickly turned around, his eyes widening in disbelief at the sight before him.

The woman who had been incapacitated with broken limbs now stood perfectly upright in the kitchen doorway. Her long hair hung loose and unstyled, and her expressionless face gazed at him. The face that had been disfigured by a branding iron was now fair and unblemished, smooth as polished jade. With her willow-shaped eyebrows, almond eyes, delicate nose, and cherry lips, she was the very picture of beauty, as radiant as a peach blossom.

If not for Jiang Ning's voice and clothing, Liu Ming'an would hardly have recognized her.

Even so, the fact that someone who had been bedridden just yesterday could be completely healed overnight was too bizarre. Liu Ming'an stood rooted to the spot, unable to hide the shock in his eyes as he stared at Jiang Ning.

Jiang Ning had anticipated his reaction. She calmly walked to the other side of the table and sat down, tapping the surface with her hand. "Sit down, let's talk."

Liu Ming'an dazedly took a seat at the table. He had been observing her closely as she walked over, and he realized that she moved with perfect ease—a completely healthy person without a trace of injury.

"Miss Jiang, your injuries..." Liu Ming'an hesitantly began, having regained his senses.

This question was expected, and Jiang Ning had prepared her answer: "I have a unique constitution. I heal quickly."

That's putting it mildly, Liu Ming'an couldn't help but think.

Jiang Ning continued, "I'm different from ordinary people, which may invite criticism or even mortal danger. Could you keep this a secret for me? Please don't tell anyone else that I've recovered."

Liu Ming'an nodded without hesitation. "Don't worry, Miss Jiang. I'll keep it strictly confidential."

Having achieved her goal, Jiang Ning gazed at him and said softly, "Then I'll stay here for a while to keep a low profile. Thank you for your hospitality, Young Master Liu."

Liu Ming'an was taken aback again. This wasn't how he had envisioned things unfolding—he had planned to treat her injuries and then send her on her way.

Jiang Ning, keenly aware of his expression, lowered her eyes and spoke in a subdued voice, mixing truth with fiction: "To be honest, Young Master Liu, I only remember my name and nothing else. I was injured, but I can't even recall who my enemies are. I'm now penniless and homeless. If you hadn't taken me in, I might have died by the roadside."

As expected, for a kind-hearted person like Liu Ming'an, such a pitiful story was impossible to refuse.

"Miss Jiang, please feel free to stay. My home may be poor, but adding one more person just means an extra pair of chopsticks. Don't worry about anything else."

This man is far too easy to deceive, Jiang Ning thought as her long eyelashes fluttered. "Thank you, Young Master Liu."

Having made up his mind and realizing they would be living together for some time, Liu Ming'an smiled and said, "You don't need to keep calling me 'Young Master.' I'm just a poor scholar. Please, call me by my name."

Jiang Ning nodded, then heard him say, "I'll go prepare breakfast now."

As Liu Ming'an was about to stand up, Jiang Ning appeared behind him and gently pressed him back down. "Let me do it. I know how to cook."

"That wouldn't be right," Liu Ming'an tried to refuse.

"It's perfectly fine. I'm staying in your home for free, so it's only right that I do what I can to help," Jiang Ning insisted.

More importantly, she didn't want to eat that bitter, astringent porridge again, Jiang Ning added silently to herself as she turned and ducked into the kitchen.

The kitchen had two doors: one connecting to the main room, covered by a cloth curtain, and another leading to the courtyard. Outside the courtyard door stood a large water vat. Liu Ming'an went outside, drew a basin of water to wash up, and then peered into the kitchen, concerned. Seeing that Jiang Ning seemed quite adept at cooking and household chores, he finally relaxed.

Indeed, Jiang Ning was an excellent cook. She had once obtained a chef's certificate for a mission. However, in modern times, she was accustomed to cooking with electricity and natural gas, rarely using a wood-fired stove. Fortunately, her survival skills came in handy, making it easy for her to start a fire. The only issue was her long hair—without a hair tie, it came dangerously close to being singed several times.

Jiang Ning washed two bowls of rice and put them in the pot, adding a handful of firewood to let it simmer. She then took down the steamer from the top of the cupboard, went outside to fetch a basin of water to clean it, and left it to dry for steaming rice later. Returning to the stove, she added another handful of firewood, stirred the pot with a spatula, and then left the kitchen to pick vegetables from the yard.

As Jiang Ning stepped into the courtyard, the sky was now ablaze with red clouds. Wisps of smoke rose from chimneys throughout the village, accompanied by a chorus of crowing roosters and barking dogs. Interspersed were the voices of men and women, as if the entire village was awakening with the sunrise.

The simple pleasure of everyday life was most soothing to the soul. Jiang Ning suddenly understood the appeal of "hanging up one's armor and returning to the farm." In that moment, her heart was filled with a profound sense of peace.

Jiang Ning stood still for a moment, then picked a few eggplants and peppers from the garden, pulled up some green onions, and paused when passing by a patch of bitter greens. She bent down and plucked two leaves almost as long as her arm.

These greens were growing well; just two leaves could fill a bowl. Although Jiang Ning had eaten them for four meals and had some complaints, ultimately, it wasn't the vegetable's fault but the cook's. With a bit of proper preparation, even these bitter and astringent greens could become a delicious dish.

Moreover, without comparison, there's no sense of loss. Using the same ingredients to create two different flavors should allow her to show off her skills a little, making Liu Ming'an realize just how poor his culinary abilities truly were.