Transmigrated into a Historical GL Novel as the Scumbag Heroine - Chapter 16

That day, the skies were high and crisp, a typical clear autumn day. Along the country path in Qiu Village, a horse-drawn carriage kept going back and forth—sometimes slow and leisurely, sometimes fast and wild.

The black-bearded uncle, Er Zhu, was at the reins. Next to him sat a beaming Qiu Erlang. The two looked like a pair of fools, completely unbothered by the wind, hollering “Young master! Young master!” like madmen.

Some bored villagers actually counted—by sundown, including the final round, the carriage had gone back and forth between the village entrance and the Qiu family’s vegetable shed a total of eighteen times.

The villagers were speechless. Is it the first time they’ve seen a carriage or the first time they’ve seen vegetables?

Qiu Luo was equally speechless. It’s just a carriage. Why is my brother acting like he’s lost his mind?

Qiu Erlang was ecstatic. “Sis, please say yes. Let Uncle Er Zhu drive me to the vegetable shed every day!”

Riding in the carriage, wind in his face, no walking needed—and everyone looked at him with envy. What a thrill.

Qiu Luo maintained a gentle smile. “Erlang, it’s a ten-minute walk from the house to the shed. Is that really necessary?”

It barely took ten minutes on foot. And he insisted on making a scene with the carriage? She was genuinely worried someone might beat him up out of spite.

But Qiu Erlang shook his head fervently. “Of course it’s necessary! Lately, my legs have been sore. I think my chronic leg issues are acting up. You don’t know this, but our mom had the same problem. I must’ve inherited it.”

Qiu Luo chuckled darkly. Mom’s been gone seven or eight years. That’s a pretty long incubation period for a leg condition.

Also—chronic leg pain is genetic now? You think I never studied medicine?

She shot him a glare. “Erlang, it’s not that I don’t want to lend you the carriage, but Uncle Er Zhu’s getting on in years. Your ‘bad legs’ may not be real, but I can guarantee that if this continues, he’s going to freeze.”

It was late autumn. The morning dew was heavy, and even the strongest body wouldn’t stand up to Qiu Erlang’s nonsense for long.

Erlang wavered a bit, then looked pitifully at Er Zhu.

Er Zhu rubbed his black beard and chuckled. “I’m fine, really. As long as the young master is happy, it’s no trouble.”

Qiu Erlang immediately lunged forward with a bear hug. “Uncle Er Zhu, you’re the best! You’re like my real uncle!”

Qiu Luo stared at the scene, completely at a loss. Fine. One’s willing to act spoiled, the other’s willing to indulge it. What was the point in me playing the reasonable one?

“Alright,” she relented, “but try to tone it down. If you go overboard and get beaten up, don’t come crying to me. Also, Uncle Er Zhu—just call him ‘Erlang.’ There’s no need to say ‘young master.’”

This was a straw-thatched house, with a patchy fence and barely a roof tile to its name. “Young master” sounded completely absurd.

This time, Erlang didn’t argue. As long as he got his daily carriage ride, he didn’t care what he was called.

Seeing them get along so well gave Qiu Luo a sense of comfort.

There’s an old saying: Harmony brings prosperity. A family with warmth and unity could get through even the hardest of times.

So far, she was pretty satisfied with her “silly” brother’s performance.

He was only in his teens, had little education and no proper guidance. But he had a good nature and still retained a childlike innocence. In three words: a teachable child.

Honestly, it was thanks to the original host’s neglect that he hadn’t been raised into someone unbearable.

In the north, autumn passes quickly. Not long after the leaves turned, the chill of winter arrived.

The watermelons in the Qiu family’s garden were doing well.

How could they not? Erlang didn’t know the first thing about farming, so he relied entirely on hired help.

At first, Qiu Luo had been a bit worried. But it turned out Er Zhu was an experienced farmhand. Not only did he manage the workers well, he often offered helpful advice. The two had grown as close as father and son.

On the day of the first snowfall, Qiu Erlang returned home brimming with joy and knocked on Qiu Luo’s door.

“Sis! Sis! The baby watermelons are growing! A whole bunch of them—they look like tiny apples, so cute!”

It was the first time in his life he’d felt this kind of accomplishment. Those melons had grown under his watchful eye, day by day.

Qiu Luo was pleased, too. She went to the shed to check and gave generous praise: “Well done! You’re truly the pillar of the Qiu family. I knew you had it in you. Tonight, you’re getting extra food!”

She also planned to head into town to see Cheng Yu. Ever since she’d returned from the Cheng residence, the two had only exchanged letters—mostly from Cheng Yu, with Qiu Luo relaying messages through the maid.

Writing back? Not yet.

She had spent the past few days practicing calligraphy, imitating the original host’s handwriting. She felt she was still a bit short of perfection. Maybe after the New Year, she’d be able to pass it off as real.

It was the first time Er Zhu got to drive Qiu Luo into town.

It was as if Miss Cheng had instructed him to help with Qiu Luo’s errands—yet all he’d done these days was chauffeur Qiu Erlang.

The snowfall the previous night had been light. The fields were dusted white, but the roads were mostly clear, leaving only a few puddles where the snow had melted.

Once in town, Qiu Luo bought a few warm accessories.

The Cheng family was the wealthiest in the county, so it wasn’t about money—it was the thought that counted.

She picked out gloves and scarves for Cheng Yu, and hand-warmers for Madam Cheng. As for Master Cheng… the old scoundrel who spoiled concubines and mistreated his wife—he got nothing.

She’d never dated in the modern world, but she knew how to care for someone. That much was basic emotional intelligence.

When it came to appearances, she had them down.

At the Cheng residence, Madam Cheng was very pleased when she saw the gifts for her daughter.

“You’re so thoughtful,” she said warmly. “But don’t spend so much next time.”

She knew the Qiu family wasn’t well-off. She didn’t expect lavish gifts—just sincerity. And today, she saw it.

Qiu Luo, suppressing her guilt, replied, “It’s only right. I’m just glad you don’t mind, Auntie.”

Madam Cheng had a maid take the gifts, then smiled and took Qiu Luo’s hand—pulling her daughter’s hand over as well, and joining them together.

“Mind? Of course not. Just treat each other well. That’s all I ask.”

Qiu Luo instantly thought of An Actor Prepares and responded with sincerity, “You have my word, Auntie. We’ll take good care of each other.”

As a contract fiancée, a business partner—she had practiced this kind of performance countless times in her head.

Cheng Yu’s lips curved into a soft smile. “Don’t worry, Mother. We’ll be just fine.”

Her words were calm, but her eyes held something true—something that made Qiu Luo’s heart skip.

When Madam Cheng finally left, Qiu Luo blurted out, “Cheng Yu… what you said just now…”

“What about it?”

“Did you mean it?”

“Of course.”

Qiu Luo froze, then realized that wasn’t what she’d meant to ask. What she really wanted to know was: Did you mean it as part of the act, or… not?

But some questions, if you miss your chance to ask them properly the first time, lose their way. So, she fell silent.

Cheng Yu looked at her quietly. Maybe she knew what Qiu Luo really wanted to ask—or maybe not. She simply said:

“Come to the study. Let’s sit for a while.”