Help! The Frosty Noble's Son Is in Love With Me!

Chapter 523 - 77: The Boss and the Secretary

After being home for two or three days, Qu Fulan started to feel bored.This time was different from the last time she went on a business trip to the mountains, which was for her career, leaving no time to think too much.

Now, back in the village waiting for the New Year, surrounded by the bustling holiday atmosphere, friends and family visiting, it seemed lively, yet Qu Fulan felt a bit irritated.

This liveliness was only superficial; the conversations were all gossip, eager to pry into every aspect of your career and love life.

If you don’t have a boyfriend, they’ll say girls shouldn’t be too picky, or you’ll risk not getting married.

If you say you’re focusing on your career and don’t want to marry just yet, they’ll say no matter how much a woman earns, it’s no use.

If you have a boyfriend, they’ll ask all about his family, practically until the day of marriage.

Feeling out of place, Qu Fulan chose to stay at home after the first two days of visits, not wanting to entertain people outside for her career and then come home to entertain a bunch of elders. It was too exhausting; lying on the bed was much more comfortable.

With free time, it’s easy to start missing people.

But she had just talked on the phone last night, and reaching out again now seemed a bit frequent, also interrupting the New Year celebrations there.

Spending long hours on the phone was tiring for the eyes, so she found something to do instead.

She got up to tidy up the house. Most of the village had built new homes, not like the old tile-roofed ones. Qu Fulan’s house had two levels, and the rooftop could be used for drying things.

She threw anything that could be washed into the washing machine, and items that couldn’t be machine-washed were cleaned with boiled water.

Though there was gas, Mrs. Qu preferred to use firewood, and Qu Fulan also found it better for warmth during winter. Putting on some tough cotton clothes, she began chopping wood, her childhood skills intact, quickly chopping a bunch.

Her house had a yard, and beside the main house, there was a small separate kitchen. She carried the firewood in to start a fire.

Starting a fire needed kindling, which involved placing easily combustible materials at the bottom, lighting them, then gradually adding thin wood, followed by medium-sized wood, and finally large logs, ensuring the fire burned longer.

While boiling water, Qu Fulan sat by the fire. Indeed, this way of warming up felt more comfortable than electric heating.

Once the water was boiled, after washing clothes, she swept the house. Don’t underestimate housework; being busy like this took her until evening, when Mrs. Qu returned from visiting, and was amazed at the transformation, her mouth wide open in surprise.

Qu Fulan, looking at herself covered in grime, was surprised too. The clothes she brought back weren’t durable; she’d have to dig out her old clothes that she didn’t mind getting dirty.

"We’re out of firewood at home; I’m planning to go to the back mountain to gather some tomorrow," Qu Fulan said.

One must find things to keep busy at home, or risk going moldy from idleness.

Mrs. Qu’s health didn’t allow her to work, though she pitied her daughter’s hard work. Seeing her bored, she let her tinker around.

Qu Fulan wasn’t going alone to gather firewood. She teamed up with others in the village, having someone to watch out for each other.

When heading out, Qu Fulan dressed like a typical village girl, wearing a floral cotton jacket and tying a floral cloth around her head to protect her hair.

Most families in the village were accustomed to burning firewood, having the aroma of smoke; especially before the year-end, many went out to chop wood, so Qu Fulan wasn’t worried about being alone.

Gathering firewood up the mountain was lively with everyone together.

Living in the city for so long, rarely returning home to experience the old life, Qu Fulan found it quite joyful.

Chatting with another woman from the village who was married; she was even younger than Qu Fulan, yet her child was already two years old.

Reserved in nature, she worked quietly without much conversation, which was the type Qu Fulan preferred; otherwise, encountering a chatty person who couldn’t stop pushing for marriage was annoying.

In a few days, it would be New Year’s; Qu Fulan would leave around the fifth or sixth, so she focused on gathering firewood, while those chopping raw wood mostly carried it back to dry for future use.

Qu Fulan fled to work in the mountains to avoid the village people’s chatter, contrasting with Mrs. Qu, whose age gave her a different perspective on gossip, seeing it casually.

There were even people who wanted to matchmake for her, but she could handle it.

Mrs. Qu’s age and frequent hospital visits meant those matchmaking were merely talk, not genuinely taking action.

But it was different for Qu Fulan.

Not having returned for a long time, her appearance surprised everyone at the New Year visit. Though Qu Fulan was always good-looking, no matter how many times you saw a pretty person, it was always stunning.

"Girls shouldn’t marry too far away; marrying someone local is better."

The matchmaker from the neighboring village would say anything to set people up.

"Over there, that family has excellent conditions; they’ve qualified as civil servants. If not for being too picky, people would’ve worn out his doorstep seeking matches earlier. When I tried to set him up before, he didn’t take a liking to anyone. Now, upon seeing your daughter’s photo, his eyes lit up, adamantly wanting me to propose a match."

...

Qu Fulan had no idea someone was matchmaking for her behind her back. Otherwise, she’d be glad to have dodged those people—were they nuts to propose a match even though she said she had a boyfriend?

She only mentioned Pei Ji’an was an entrepreneur like herself.

Entrepreneurship meant instability; in some people’s eyes, it couldn’t compare to the stability of a civil servant, hence the boldness in trying to steal someone away.

Fortunately, despite Mrs. Qu being soft-hearted, the matchmaker, speaking until her mouth was dry, couldn’t extract a definite answer, inwardly cursing.

Never met someone so ungrateful; a civil servant—it was a blessing that he liked your daughter. Such ungratefulness.

When the matchmaker left, you couldn’t see any expression on her face, but inside she had long been cursing. Reaching the village entrance, she saw people gathered and wondered what was happening.

Watching commotions was human nature, especially for a matchmaker, who had to run to watch the excitement.

This view was quite something—a shiny, grand car.

Although the matchmaker didn’t recognize the car, she knew it wasn’t ordinary, seemingly better than those from civil servant families.

The man getting out of the car was extraordinary too—his height, his looks, his attire—all appeared very upscale.

While the villagers watched, intrigued, they didn’t dare approach casually but the handsome man proactively came over to ask for directions.

He was asking where Qu Fulan’s house was.

Meanwhile, Qu Fulan returned with gathered firewood, her basket full, carrying it with some effort.

As she reached the village entrance, she saw a lot of people.

What happened to have so many people here?

Despite her scruffy appearance, the village work attire was ordinary here, so it didn’t bother her. She was about to greet the villagers warmly.

A familiar face suddenly appeared in her sight.

Qu Fulan’s smile froze on her face.