Little Ger, Slow Life in Another World

Miao He is subtle

Miao He passed out until dusk that day. He was tossed around all morning, and when he finally rasped a “no” with all his might, it was all for naught, as it was all exchanged for a brief respite, followed by even more aggression. Initially, he was still worried about the wound, thus he dared not struggle too much. But Yang Dalang was like a mountain, and Miao He’s soul flew away the moment Yang Dalang pressed even harder on him.

As his mind wandered uncontrollably to certain things while he lay on the bed, Miao He felt his entire body burn from shyness. Speaking of which, he only noticed that the stickiness from all the sweat from earlier was gone, replaced by refreshingness. The bed beneath appeared to have been replaced by the older one as well. Miao He blushed bright pink from his neck to his hairline and shrank into the quilt.

Yang Dalang entered, holding a bowl, as the door was pushed open. When his gaze met Miao He’s, he ground to a halt. “I cooked some porridge. Have some.”

Dalang had returned to his usual calm and reserved demeanor around this time.

It was a complete 180-degree turn from his previous domineering and impetuous performance. The obstinate way of huskily calling his name over was also gone.

 Miao He asked, with his hands gripping the quilt nervously, “What’s the matter?” 

Yang Dalang remained deafeningly silent. He set the porridge on the table first, then trod to the bedside, all the while looking down. When he bent down to pick up Maio He with a quilt, he felt the little ger’s body stiffen. As a result, Dalang had a clear view of the person’s exposed fair neck, which was speckled with red swollen dots and traces. He lifted Miao He and sat him up against the wall, a glimmer of regret flashing through his eyes.

“I’ll feed you,” Yang Dalang said, turning around to serve the bowl of porridge.

Miao He stared blankly at Yang Dalang.

To be honest, he was not mad from the bottom of his heart. He had thought about this moment for a long time and had been silently preparing himself in his heart since the day he promised to Yang Dalang. That, with a tinge of curiosity and apprehension about the unknown.

Now, he could not say it was only natural for this to happen; he just felt it was too much of a shocker.

Miao He never expected Yang Dalang to confess or say anything romantic. With their current stage, as long as it was peaceful, their marriage would most likely bloom for a lifetime. And he could always sense Yang Dalang’s concern and care. That was enough to move Miao He’s feelings.

He also wanted to reciprocate by allowing Dalang to feel the same way. It was only the latter who was clearly impulsive and uneasy.

Just as he had previously detected anger and restraint in the man’s touch. ‘And for what reason?’

Miao He asked again, this time stronger, “Why?”

Yang Dalang could see suspicions in his eyes and, for the first time, lowered his eyelids to flee.

His hands worked instead. Dalang scooped up the porridge, blew it with his mouth, and offered it to Miao He gently.

In his heart, the latter sighed. This man was, indeed, a recluse, as Second Aunt Yang had said. But if he remained distant in this manner, the people around him would have to think for themselves.

Miao He tried to recall the fuse while being fed bite after bite.

That was right, before he was thrown into bed did he not just notice the unusual occurrence of living soil?

‘Living soil… living soil?’ Living soil!’

After a stroke of epiphany, Miao He was a little speechless.

This Yang Dalang did not have thought of him becoming a deity again and leaving, did he? Ironically, with his temperament, he bore no resemblance to an irrational person.

‘Although the matter of living soil and rationality contradicted each other, could it be that the ancients were truly unable to accept even the slightest bizarre setting? Look at this person who is as unmovable as a mountain.

‘Why, it’s a kind of cute.’ Miao He tilted his head as he gazed at him only to be stuffed again with a mouthful of porridge.

When the other quietly finished feeding the porridge and went out to wash the bowl, Miao He looked up at him in the same sitting position when he came out. The silent human wall eventually cracked and said, uncertainly, “Take some rest?”

Miao He chose not to respond this time. Yang Dalang paused for a moment, then walked over and stooped to assist him in lying down. In heeding to the other’s movements, Miao He slipped himself out of the quilt with his hands. As the quilt slid down, more red and purple bruises were revealed, standing in stark contrast to the expanse of white skin, which marked their fervent passion earlier. He wrapped his arms around Yang Dalang’s neck, drawing him in, just like he used to do when he was in love.

“I won’t leave,” Miao He declared.

When Yang Dalang heard the words, he hugged the person tightly in his arms. Miao He felt a slight ache from the other’s strength, as well as from the knowledge that he appeared to have correctly guessed the problem. Miao He still did not understand. Perplexed but touched. Because of this individual’s affection for him.

“… Is your wound not bothering you?”

Yang Dalang’s voice was muffled by the skin of the other’s neck. “It doesn’t hurt.”

“Don’t do this again.  Be brave.”

Yang Dalang’s final tense nerve finally relaxed.

Even at this precise moment, the little ger in his arms was thinking of him.

***

The next day, Miao He hobbled around like a doddering old man, and Yang Dalang supported him at all times, even when lying in bed. The day after, except for sore limbs, Miao He could now walk steadily, so he pulled Yang Dalang to study the two lumps of living soil. Given that the latter was wary of the living soil, Miao He felt it was necessary to brief him clearly on it to prevent his imagination from running wild.

After a series of tests, each of the two lumps of living soil was concluded to be a carbon copy of the other. With the same abilities, but with an addition to the original party. Would the fields grow in size like in a vegetable farming game? It was unfortunate that the two soil masses could not be combined into a stronger one. Nonetheless, the benefit was that the utilization efficiency would be doubled.

However, Miao He was still unable to pinpoint the reason for the living soil’s upgrade. Was it due to the frequency? Or was it because of having many varieties of crops? In his previous life, he farmed regularly, but such an occurrence did not occur. Could there really be such a difference between planting in a flower pot and planting in a field?

In any case, the addition of another living soil meant that the vegetable garden could be expanded and broadened even further. The living soil that existed as the “fertilizer” was so beneficial that the possibility of having large orchards could be clearly envisioned. But before any of that could happen, they needed to go to town and properly transfer the title deed from Liang to their household name.

However, en route to town, Miao He and Yang Dalang encountered a child from the village chief’s house calling at the door early in the morning, informing them of a village meeting held in the Miaojia ancestral hall that afternoon. Some people were just as busy in the mornings and only paid the bare minimum in the announcement before continuing on their way.

Now that the farming season was over, the work in the field consisted of only weeding and fertilizer application, which was not difficult. And, since there was a village meeting, an important announcement should be made.

There was no rush to process the transfer of ownership, so the two decided not to head to town. Miao He and Yang Dalang went to the Miaojia ancestral hall for a meeting in the afternoon.