My Stepbrother Is a Little Pitiful (ChatGPT Translated)

☆ Chapter 44. Chapter 43. Scheming and plotting.

Chapter 43: Scheming

Upon hearing that Cheng Qingzhi didn't want to share his New Year's wishes with her, Cheng Songer felt a bit disappointed. "Alright."

Cheng Qingzhi noticed Cheng Songer's slightly downcast tone and smiled faintly. He gently brushed away the snowflakes on her long eyelashes.

Cheng Songer's eyelashes trembled, suddenly realizing that she didn't know who he was blooming for at this moment - the original owner or herself?

She awkwardly avoided his hand and said, "It's snowing heavily outside. Let's go back quickly."

Cheng Qingzhi withdrew his hand, a hint of slight hurt flashing in his phoenix eyes, but Cheng Songer pretended not to see it.

She returned to the house and continued eating. The food in the house still had warmth because only the two of them were eating. Some dishes were barely touched and couldn't be finished, but that was just right. It's good to have leftovers every year. . . If every day next year could be spent eating like this, it would be great.

Cheng Qingzhi brushed off the snow from his body and sat on the edge of the kang. He used small tongs to add charcoal to the charcoal basin on the small table. The crimson charcoal fire danced in his pitch-black pupils.

"Sister, aren't you eating?" she asked.

"Songer, you eat. I'm already full," Cheng Qingzhi said in a low voice, his slightly furrowed brows evoking a sense of pity.

Cheng Songer suppressed the desire to pamper him and started planning for the next year while eating.

"I hope the world will remain relatively peaceful next year and not fall into chaos. By then, we can take out the stored grain and buy some land for ourselves. At least we'll have a foundation," she said.

Cheng Qingzhi paused with the small tongs in his hand, his tone filled with worry. "But what if next year isn't peaceful? You mentioned that it might. . . If we have stored so much grain and those who have no food go crazy and break in to steal, what will you do? I know you're strong, but ultimately, two fists are no match for four hands."

His mother died tragically like this back then. Those people, driven by hunger, were capable of doing anything. He couldn't bear to see Cheng Songer in danger again.

"I have thought about this. If the famine next year becomes severe to that extent, even if we have grain, we can only eat bran and dirt together with them. Otherwise, those who see it will feel unfair. However, every time there is a famine, these people will run to the capital. I believe that by then, there won't be many people left in the village. After the most critical moment passes, we can take the opportunity to exchange grain for land," she said.

". . . But I'm afraid that by that time, you will have to endure hardships and hunger," Cheng Songer said.

Cheng Qingzhi felt slightly relieved and smiled, his eyes filled with tenderness. "Being with you is not a hardship."

Cheng Songer lowered her head in a daze and continued eating.

Two people, one sitting at the table and the other sitting on the kang, chatting aimlessly. Suddenly, there was no sound from Cheng Qingzhi's side.

She looked up and realized he had fallen asleep without her noticing.

She put down her chopsticks and quietly approached him.

Looking at his slender body leaning against the cold wall, with his eyelids lightly closed and thick, long lashes casting a shadow on his eyes, his cold, porcelain-like skin faintly visible in the flickering firelight, the description of "ice-cold skin and jade-like bones" couldn't be more fitting for Cheng Qingzhi.