By evening, Cheng Lele, whose physical strength had been overly depleted, ate two full bowls of rice—her face was practically buried in the rice bowl. Chen An pointed to the pigsty not far away and said: “We should lock you in there to eat.”
Cheng Lele didn’t talk back. The farmhouse meals were really too fragrant. She ate until she was dripping with sweat, the sweat about to flow directly into her eyes. Chen An wiped the corner of her eye and picked up a palm-leaf fan to fan her.
After eating, Cheng Lele and Chen An bathed one after another. Third Great-Uncle hadn’t installed a water heater—there was only a simple bathroom. Cheng Lele’s whole body was covered in sweat, so she took a refreshingly cool cold-water bath. She was originally afraid that washing her hair with cold water would be bad for her hair quality, so she didn’t wash her hair while bathing. When she came out, she disliked that her hair smelled too bad, so she boiled a kettle of water herself, carried an enamel basin to the big water vat in the courtyard to wash her hair.
Chen An finished bathing and came out just as he saw Cheng Lele sticking her bottom up while mixing hot water. Chen An hurriedly seized the thermos, moved the basin away from her forehead, adjusted the warm water, and had her test the temperature.
Cheng Lele stuffed her head into the basin, washing while saying: “Little Brother, what would I do without you?”
Every time Cheng Lele received a small favor, she would shamelessly act coquettish. Chen An was too lazy to respond. He only wrapped a towel around her bare neck to prevent water from flowing into her clothes.
His fingertips slid across the young girl’s bare skin—cool.
Cheng Lele hung her head, like Sadako, black hair spilling everywhere. Seeing her wash with difficulty, Chen An simply said: “Don’t move anymore, let me do it.”
As he spoke, he pressed down Cheng Lele’s head, took a small ladle, scooped some warm water and poured it on, then squeezed some shampoo and applied it.
At this moment, Cheng Lele was like a satiated cat, obediently lying beside Chen An. Chen An’s technique was very gentle, his slender fingers brushing through the black hair and white foam. The summer night’s wind blew past, frog calls came from the fields—it was a beautiful evening.