Chapter 216: Mianmian’s Diary
Returning home.
The sky had already turned dark.
Dinner was served.
The rice for dinner was cooked by my brother-in-law. It was so hard, so incredibly hard, that I had to chew three times more than usual just to swallow it.
As Jiang Yu ate, she sighed, “Our family’s circumstances are truly good now. The rice is cooked so dry and firm. Back in the day, a single scoop of this would have been enough to cook a whole pot.”
Jiang Feng was also struggling to chew his rice, saying while he chewed, “It seems the young hero no longer wants to eat soft rice.”
Jiang Changtian had his Xia Mei cooking special meals for him, having prepared extra noodles.
As he ate, he said, “In this life, I am only suited for the soft rice cooked by my wife. Anything too hard just won’t do; it hurts my teeth.”
Qin Luoxia just smiled gently.
Censor He had gone out for a social engagement in the evening.
Jiang Mianmian had expended a lot of energy that afternoon and felt quite exhausted, so she ate an extra half-bowl of rice.
Seeing this, Jiang Changtian and his wife were immensely gratified.
Parents always feel their daughter is too thin, surely because she eats too little every day.
When it came time to sleep at night.
Jiang Changtian whispered to Xia Mei in bed about what he had seen today.
“She really helped someone stitch their finger back together. I saw that it wasn’t just haphazard sewing; the tiny tubes inside seemed to be hooked up, matched one-to-one. Do you remember the human bone diagram Mianmian drew? It’s as if this child has seen many corpses, and the kind that were dissected, at that.”
Qin Luoxia felt a bit guilty.
Could it be that the child inherited this from her?
Although she hadn’t butchered humans, she had certainly butchered animals, and she did so with clear, precise, and obvious skill.
When she carried Mianmian on her back as a child, had she done such things? She seemed very skilled at this; she could butcher a wild boar and organize it neatly, piece by piece, or cut one up and rearrange it to look like four chickens…
Guilty.
She finally felt there was something the daughter had in common with her.
Especially similar.
But, especially guilty.
Qin Luoxia laughed it off, bypassed the topic, and said, “Jiang Yu seems to be showing now. Her belly is neither pointed nor round. I wonder if she is carrying a boy or a girl.”
“Regardless of whether it’s a boy or a girl, the Meng Family will surely cherish it. If they don’t, that’s just fine; we’ll keep it at home. Our family is flourishing, and the more people, the better.”
“Brother Feng doesn’t have a suitable partner yet. What do you think of Governor Wu’s daughter?”
“Not much. A bit foolish.”
“It’s fine. The Prefecture City is still too small, and we haven’t met the right one. Later, when we go to the Capital, we’ll take a look. We will always find someone suitable.”
The two lay with their feet touching, chatting idly.
Jiang Changtian fell asleep.
He started to snore softly.
Jiang Mianmian returned to her own boudoir.
The boudoir was very large.
It was something she had specifically requested.
The bed was very large.
There was also a writing desk, a bookcase, a tea table, a drawing table, a sofa, a rug, and a walk-in closet.
In any case, it had to be very large, very comfortable, and fully functional.
A bathroom had to be equipped as well.
Going out to poop in the middle of the night was too difficult.
Pooping in front of the bed in the middle of the night was too smelly.
If reading at night, the oil lamp needed to be bright.
Candles were very expensive; ordinary people generally didn’t light them. The common folk mostly used oil lamps.
One oil lamp could burn for a long time.
Jiang Mianmian occasionally liked to set out many oil lamps and candles, curling up on the sofa to read.
When she needed to pee, she would slide into her slippers and go to the washroom.
Next to the sofa was a small tea table with snacks and tea, and Pang Ya would serve her.
If she had walked too much, Pang Ya would also massage her feet and calves; this was required by Great-Aunt.
Great-Aunt said that a young girl’s legs and feet should be massaged often, fearing that the flesh on her calves would become hard and thick, which wouldn’t look good.
Her walk-in closet was very large, with an abundance of clothes. The better ones were all in complete sets, so she didn’t need to consider how to match them, and of course, she certainly didn’t need to wash them herself.
Her clothes now required special care when washed; they couldn’t just be washed casually. Things like the clothes that were put in a basin and taken to the river to be beaten with a stick would usually be ruined after one wash.
These brightly colored robes were also particularly troublesome to wash.
Anyway, there were people specifically for laundry.
Her family was now in the “three-outfits-a-day” class.
Meaning there were many clothes in the house, enough to change at least three times a day.
Not only were there many clothes, but wearing different clothes to different places also meant a wider social circle.
In any case, it was already a class slightly higher than well-off.
Jiang Mianmian had eaten too much at night, and the rice really was quite hard. Fortunately, she had already changed her teeth, but these new teeth also needed to be protected; they had to last a lifetime, and the level of dentistry at this time was too low.
She didn’t want to sleep at this moment, nor did she want to lie down and read.
Jiang Mianmian took out a book with a black leather cover from the cabinet.
The cover read: Mianmian’s Diary》.
That’s right, this was Jiang Mianmian’s diary.
Proper people all have a diary.
She would record things herself.
Perhaps it was because of confusion.
There were some moments, or perhaps certain times, when she always felt a bit out of it.
It was as if her body was lying down, but her soul was floating up, scanning everything with a third-person perspective.
So, she would write a diary.
Recording her daily life.
And she would also draw some strange pictures in the diary.
Writing down some special requests.
For example: It’s so hot today. I really want a dress that is thin, multi-layered, cool, and pretty.
And a few days later, Father would bring her a dress, saying he happened to see it outside and thought it was alright.
For example: Not happy. Don’t want to eat.
And then in the evening, there would be all sorts of extra delicious food.
For example: Today I don’t want to recite lessons. I really don’t want to. I can’t memorize them.
But Father would still make her recite them.
There were always one or two days where he pretended not to have seen her diary.
Jiang Mianmian knew it clearly.
But she would still write it earnestly.
Like today.
It could be considered a day worth remembering.
I must write in my diary.
Today, the first surgery: replantation of a severed finger.
Surgery difficulty: 8 points.
Surgery completion: 7.8 points.
Must remind them to use the correct method to preserve the severed limb.
Cannot delay too long.
Jiang Mianmian recorded the process of performing the surgery on someone today, what was lacking, and how to improve.
She wrote every stroke very seriously.
Although it was all written by her, perhaps it would become important archaeological material in the future.
The main goal was to make archaeologists doubt history and doubt science.
After finishing a serious diary entry earnestly.
Jiang Mianmian took Ant and Pang Ya for a stroll around, seeing that the large rock in the backyard had already been moved away by Father’s men; the efficiency was very high.
Next, the days were brief, and the diary entries had few words.
The second day.
No classes.
Distributing porridge.
The third day.
No classes.
Distributing porridge.
The fourth day.
No classes.
Distributing porridge.
The fifth day.
No classes.
Distributing porridge.
Today, that strong man who kept cycling through the line, the one with the exceptionally thick neck, came to find me.
Upon seeing me, he knelt down and pulled out a blood-stained knife, saying to his own neck: “I have come to receive the medicinal porridge for these past few days, but starting from the second day, there was a group of people acting suspiciously. I, Zhang Weibiao, have eaten my fill of Miss’s food for five days and have nothing to repay you with. I followed this group of people and heard that they were planning to kidnap you, Miss, while things were chaotic. So, I killed them first. I have killed people. I’m telling you, Miss, to thank you for the kindness of a full belly. I, Zhang Weibiao, will not change my name or surname. I killed them, and I will pay with my life. I will not implicate you.”
I reached out to stop him, barely managing to hold him back; his strength was too great.
I thought these things only happened in storybooks, yet it really happened before my eyes.
I had him sent to the yamen. If he is truly guilty, Father will sentence him. If he did nothing wrong, does this count as active self-defense?
In any case, this is truly an era of righteousness and decisive killing.
I hope to see Zhang Weibiao tomorrow.
I hope to be able to establish a medical department.
Finally, I hope Mother cooks fewer noodle meals; I want to eat rice.
The diary closed.
The blue leather cover was very beautiful.
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