Back to the Countryside as the Youngest Daughter - Chapter 3

The Luo family had always feared fevers and illnesses. This fear came from a tragic past—Luo Dasheng’s seventh sister had died from a high fever. She had been so delirious that she couldn’t even recognize her own family, and her lips had cracked as dry as the parched earth in June. It was a sight that still haunted them.

Back then, Zhu Huifang had already married into the family. She had only been a newlywed when she watched helplessly as the ten-year-old girl wasted away. It broke her heart, but what could she do? Her mother-in-law refused to spend money on a doctor, and as a new daughter-in-law, she had no say in the matter. She had done what little she could—bringing water, wiping the girl’s body—but none of it had helped. The beautiful little girl had still passed away.

Zhu Huifang understood her mother-in-law’s struggles at the time. With seven children—four sons and three daughters—the family’s expenses were overwhelming. Schooling alone was a financial burden, not to mention the cost of future weddings. Money was always tight. Her mother-in-law had no extra funds for medical treatment, and as much as Zhu Huifang had grieved, she could not blame her.

That experience had shaped her as a mother. Ever since, she had watched over her children with extra care, ensuring they never caught a cold. They feared it wasn’t sickness itself—sickness without money to cure it.

“Mom, I’m fine. But where’s Dad?” Luo Xiaohua asked as she felt her mother’s warm touch. Her mind wandered back to what Tang Xiaodi had said earlier.

Her head had been foggy then, and her thoughts were slow. Now, she suddenly remembered that Tang Xiaodi had mentioned her father fainting.

“Your father? He’s sleeping in the other room. I’ll wake him up later.”

Her mother’s response sounded casual, but Luo Xiaohua wasn’t convinced. The way she avoided eye contact made her suspicious.

Before she could press for answers, her aunt, Yang Ju, cut in with a sneer.

“Your father? Ha! He was so furious he fell ill! He’s still lying in bed! And you, young lady—just look at you! We arranged a proper match for you, but you insisted on marrying a city man. Do you think you’re better than us? Do you want to be a rich lady or just some servant in the city?”

Her aunt’s voice was sharp, her face twisted with anger as if she were scolding her daughter.

“Eldest sister-in-law, I’ve got fish soup cooking in the kitchen. Could you check on it for me?” Zhu Huifang said quickly.

The Luo family placed great importance on respecting elders. Younger family members were expected to stay quiet even when they were wrong. So, no matter how harsh Yang Ju’s words were, Zhu Huifang wouldn’t openly contradict her.

“You’re just spoiling her! She acts like a princess at home, but I’ll be a mere servant once she marries.”

Once Yang Ju left, Zhu Huifang turned to her daughter apologetically.

“Don’t take your aunt’s words to heart. That’s how she talks—sharp tongue but a good heart.” She sighed, saying what she had to do to comfort her daughter.

Luo Xiaohua nodded but kept her thoughts to herself. Her mind was preoccupied with one glaring question.

Where was the man she supposedly risked her life for?

That was if she really had done something so extreme.

Earlier, her head had been too clouded to remember. But now, pieces of the past were coming back to her.

“Mom, don’t worry. I won’t make you worry anymore. I’ll go check on Dad.”

She was the youngest child, born when her parents were already quite old. In fact, her eldest brother’s son was already ten, while she was only eighteen. That meant she was only eight years older than her own nephew—a sign of how late in life her parents had her.

“There’s no need. Your father is fine. You just focus on resting,” her mother said quickly. “And don’t be angry with him. He only wants the best for you. Really, the young man from the Xiao family is a good match! I’ve seen him—smart, capable. He’s making good money trading goods in the city!”

The man her father had arranged for her to marry came from a family of merchants. Years ago, his family had been criticized for engaging in “speculative trade”—buying and reselling goods for profit. But times had changed, and now they were thriving. They had a television, bicycles, and even a new brick house. Many families in the village hoped to marry their daughters into that family.

Luo Xiaohua had never met the man herself, but she had heard plenty about him. He was something of a legend in their village.

Despite growing up an orphan, raised only by his grandparents, he had built his own success. After finishing high school, he followed his uncle into the trading business, using his sharp mind to expand their profits. His company had grown so much that he later moved into real estate, becoming a well-known figure in Nancheng.

Yet, despite his success, his childhood had been miserable. With no parents, he had been bullied. Even his own relatives had taken advantage of him—stealing his land and seizing everything left behind by his parents.

Still, instead of seeking revenge, he had repaid cruelty with kindness, turning his story into one that the village still spoke about with admiration.

“Mom, I understand. But I’m not ready to talk about marriage yet. Give me some time, okay?”

There was no way she would marry Liu Jianmin. But that didn’t mean she would let him off the hook so quickly. If he wanted to return to the city, she’d ensure he failed. He wouldn’t just leave—he’d go in disgrace.

“You can forget about Liu Jianmin! It’s not just your father—I don’t trust him either!” Her mother’s voice was firm. “Your father and I have seen plenty in life. We know who’s genuine and who’s just pretending.”

Luo Xiaohua swallowed hard. If only her parents had been this firm before. She might never have gone down the wrong path if they had objected like this.

But she couldn’t blame them. She had been the one who threatened them, forcing their hand.

She had no right to be resentful—only to regret her blindness.

“I’ll go check on Dad.”

“Don’t upset him,” her mother warned. “He’s already feeling unwell. With all this happening, we can’t afford another disaster.”

“Mom, don’t worry. I won’t make him angry.” Luo Xiaohua smiled, hoping to ease her mother’s worries.

Mooncake’s Notes for Chapter 3

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “The Luo family had always feared fevers and illnesses.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • In many traditional Chinese families, childhood illness was a significant concern due to limited access to healthcare. Home remedies were often relied upon, and a past tragedy, like the passing of a sibling, could profoundly impact how a family treated sickness.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “Her mother-in-law refused to spend money on a doctor, and as a new daughter-in-law, she had no say in the matter.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • In traditional Chinese households, newlywed daughters-in-law had little authority and were expected to obey their mothers-in-law, even in serious situations. Their influence in the family grew only after bearing children, especially sons.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “He was so furious he fell ill!”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • In Chinese culture, extreme emotional distress is often believed to affect physical health, leading to ailments such as fainting, internal injuries, or even long-term sickness.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “We arranged a proper match for you, but you insisted on marrying a city man.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Arranged marriages were common in rural China, with families seeking stability over romance. Marrying into a city family could be seen as either a step up or a potential risk of mistreatment.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “The Luo family placed great importance on respecting elders.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Filial piety (孝, xiào) is a key Confucian value, requiring younger generations to respect and obey their elders, even when they disagree.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “They had a television, bicycles, and a new brick house.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • In rural China during the late 20th century, these were symbols of wealth. A family owning such items indicated financial success and higher social standing.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “Despite his success, his childhood had been miserable.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • Orphaned children often faced mistreatment from extended family members, especially in cases where property or wealth was involved. Those who overcame such hardships were highly respected.

1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. 1. “If he wanted to return to the city, she’d ensure he failed.”
                                                                                                                                                                                                • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • • The idea of “face” (面子, miànzi) is significant in Chinese culture. Ruining someone’s reputation could have severe social and financial consequences, making it a powerful form of retaliation.