Transmigrated into a fat wife, farming, raising children, and picking up husbands

After noon, the sun began to set in the west, and the heat subsided slightly.

After resting for a while, Lin Xiuer picked up her hoe again and went to the backyard.

The newly turned soil was dark black. She wielded her hoe and broke up and leveled the larger clods of earth.

Sweat quickly soaked his back again, and the blisters on his hands burned painfully.

Wang brought out a worn-out wooden bucket from the house, which contained stove ash that had been collected for a long time and some well-rotted plant fertilizer stored at home.

Lin Xiuer spread the fertilizer evenly on the leveled land and then lightly mixed it into the topsoil with a rake.

"Wait two or three days, let the soil awaken, let the fertilizer seep in, and then you can plant the rapeseed."

Watching from the side, Mrs. Wang looked on with a hint of anticipation. "If we have a decent vegetable garden at home, we won't have to rely on digging wild vegetables to make a living anymore."

"Yes, we'll plant some radish seeds and cabbage seeds, and we can also dig up some wild onions and perilla leaves from the mountains to plant."

Lin Xiuer straightened up and wiped away her sweat. Looking at the small patch of land she had personally cultivated and fertilized, she could almost see the lush green vegetable patches in the summer.

Thinking of the patient who had just woken up in the room, Wang went to brew more medicine.

As dusk fell, it was time for dinner.

Lin Xiuer carried a bowl of thick millet porridge, with extra rice oil added, a poached egg, and a chopstickful of stir-fried tender wild vegetables, into the inner room.

The man was still leaning against the headboard, looking a little better than during the day. He looked up when he heard the noise.

In the dim light of the oil lamp, the outline of his profile was made even clearer and more distinct, but his eyes still carried the weakness of someone recovering from a serious illness and a lingering sense of confusion.

"Eat something. You just woke up, so you should eat something light and easy to digest." Lin Xiuer handed her the bowl.

The man reached out and took it; his fingers were long and slender with distinct knuckles, but they were pale.

He scooped up some hot porridge and drank a few mouthfuls, seemingly regaining some strength. He stopped what he was doing and looked at Lin Xiuer, who was sitting on a small stool by the bed.

"My wife," he said, his voice still somewhat low and hoarse, "to be honest, I don't even remember my own name anymore."

Lin Xiuer felt a chill run down her spine. Here it comes, this ultimate death trap, one she couldn't escape after all.

Her name! How would she know this man's honorable name? But to outsiders, especially when facing the villagers' inquiries, she needed a plausible explanation.

In a flash, she remembered what Wang had mentioned: the husband she had taken in from the outside world had a fake name, it was called...

"From now on, please just call me Xiuer." She wanted to avoid being called "wife."

Then, after a pause, he said in a calm tone, "As for you, I actually don't know where you came from."

"Before, you only said your name was Ping An, and that you were a refugee. You said you didn't want to talk about the past and hoped that you could live a peaceful life from now on."

Safety.

The man silently repeated the name, his brows furrowed, as if trying to search for any connection in his blank memory, but in the end it was all in vain.

This name was as unfamiliar to him as someone else's story.

"Ping An..." he murmured, then looked up, his eyes filled with honest confusion. "I still can't remember anything. About this name, about... our past."

Lin Xiuer felt a mix of emotions. Deceiving someone with amnesia, especially someone looking at you with such clear eyes, was incredibly stressful.

But the play has already begun, so we have no choice but to grit our teeth and keep going.

"If you can't remember... then don't think about it for now. The doctor said you injured your head and need to rest." She lowered her eyes, looking at her rough fingers. "As for us... there's really nothing to think about."

She took a deep breath and decided to strike first, using the original owner's dark history as a shield.

Anyway, everyone in Qingshan Village knows about Lin Dapang's glorious deeds; he'll hear about them sooner or later.

"You...you can probably sense that our family is quite poor right now, and life is tough."

Her voice lowered, carrying a deliberate heaviness and regret, "This is actually... my fault."

The man's fingers tightened slightly as he stared intently at her.

"A few years ago, I... I was bewitched and became addicted to gambling." Lin Xiuer took full responsibility for the original owner's actions, her tone full of regret.

"He's never home, all he does is gamble. When he loses money, he... he gets angry. He's not nice to his mother, and he's not nice to you, or to Xiaobao either. We've sold everything we could, and we're still drowning in debt."

She looked up and glanced quickly at the man, noticing that his brows were furrowed even more and his eyes were complicated, so she lowered her head again.

"I know I'm not a good wife or a good mother. It's all my fault that the family has become like this."

The room fell silent, save for the occasional crackling of the oil lamp.

After a long silence, the man sighed softly. The sigh was very light, yet it seemed to carry a tremendous weight, landing on Lin Xiuer's heart.

"I see..." he said softly, his voice revealing little emotion, only a sense of understanding.

"No wonder... Although I am grateful to my wife for saving my life and for taking care of me, deep down I always feel... a bit distant, a bit... unfamiliar."

He looked at Lin Xiuer, the pure dependence he had shown when he first woke up had faded, replaced by a sense of understanding and relief.

"It's not that my wife is bad, but that I've forgotten the past... I suppose these things caused a lot of discord between us in the past."

Lin Xiuer's throat tightened, and she could only manage a muffled "hmm." His assumption... was quite reasonable, perfectly explaining the strange atmosphere between the couple.

"However," the man's tone suddenly hardened, "since my wife is determined to repent, let bygones be bygones. From now on, let's... start anew, shall we?"

He looked at her, his eyes clear and solemn: "Although I can't remember the past, I vaguely feel that it was my wife who did her best to carry me down the mountain and took good care of me, feeding me water and medicine."

"In the end, my life was saved by my wife. Since we are family... I will do my best to support this family for my wife and take good care of my mother and baby."

Lin Xiuer was stunned.

She had imagined all sorts of reactions from him: doubt, questioning, frustration, or even anger, scolding, and alienation because of his wife's past absurdities.

But I never expected it to be such an unconditional acceptance and commitment.

But brother! We never even started!

What should I do? I need help urgently, I'm waiting online!!!

The glow of the oil lamp softened his overly sharp features; his sickly and haggard appearance made his sincere gaze all the more apparent.

The phrase "starting over" was clearly based on an absurd misunderstanding, yet hearing it now sent a shiver down her spine for no apparent reason.

What kind of person was he before? How could he accept his wife, who had a terrible past, based solely on the testimony of a young child like Xiaobao?

"You...you should take care of yourself first." She hastily looked away, took the empty bowl from his hand, and said, "I'll take care of things at home."

They practically fled the room.