The Ghost Child I Raised Became a Sunflower - Chapter 2

Chapter 2

Li Xiangxiang is a name I gave him.

Five years ago, while picking wild fruits, I lost track of time. The sun was about to set, the mountains growing dark, the chill intensifying. Just as I hurried to head back, I tripped over something. I looked down and saw a child’s arm.

I experienced firsthand what it feels like to be scared out of one’s wits.

I wanted to run, but that hand moved. Bravely, I brushed away the dry branches and fallen leaves.

I found a child half-buried in the earth, emaciated, face pale and bloodless, clearly on the verge of death.

I tried to feel for his breath, but couldn’t detect any. Back before I transmigrated, I was just an ordinary corporate drone; after transmigrating, I’m just a well-behaved farmer’s daughter. I figured it was just my nerves.

After all, his hand was still moving.

Gritting my teeth, I dug the child out, hung my basket in front, and carried him home on my back.

He opened his eyes in a wooden tub full of steam. The room was tiny, the steam thick. I was busy scrubbing the black grime off the child and didn’t see his expression clearly.

I only saw him slowly raise a hand and ask in a low voice, “Who are you?”

I exclaimed, “You’re awake! I came back late today. I took you to see a doctor. He said he couldn’t find any injury or illness, but your body is severely depleted, and the cold is too deep. He told me to soak you in hot water.”

“I added three big pieces of ginger to the water! It might be a bit spicy, but don’t worry.”

“Do you feel uncomfortable anywhere else?”

“There’s rice soup keeping warm in the kitchen. You can drink it once you’re awake.”

As I spoke, I dried my hands on my clothes and brought him the rice soup, watching him seriously.

The child’s face was wooden. He stared at the rice soup for a long time, then shifted his gaze to me. Only after a long while did he take it and start drinking in small sips.

And so, the child stayed, becoming my, Li Fangfang’s, younger brother, Li Xiangxiang.

That year he was exactly five. We lived together for five years.

Now he has just turned ten.

“A’Jie, what’s wrong? Are you feeling very unwell?”

Li Xiangxiang supported me. Seeing my pale face, he quickly led me to sit down, then straightened the chair himself.

“A’Jie, don’t overwork yourself. I can do a lot of work. You just rest.”

His eyes reddened.

“Don’t scare me.”

I came back to my senses and examined my brother from head to toe.

Over these five years, I worried about his depleted body and tried every way to nourish him. I bought black-bone chicken, pork, beef backbone by the jin, and made soup for him every few days.

I couldn’t bear to let him work, always telling him to wait at home for me and to play with straw grasshoppers when he was bored.

Within a year, Li Xiangxiang was restored by my care. Now he is fair and tender, tall and slender, with black smooth hair, full of vitality.

For over a year, I often got headaches and felt unwell. I asked a doctor, who said it might be from overwork. Since then, Li Xiangxiang rarely let me do housework. He’s still just a half-grown boy himself, but he wants to support the family.

Damn it, who cares whether they’re telling the truth or not?

My little brother is truly and vividly here.

“Xiangxiang, A’Jie’s head hurts. Come here and give A’Jie a hug!”

Li Xiangxiang blushed, walked up to me, bent slightly, and hugged me tightly.

The bullet comments still scrolled wildly, in full swing:

“No way? The Ghost Child who kills without blinking an eye actually acknowledged a random nobody as his big sister, and acts this obedient?”

“I don’t believe it. Who is this kid? Has this world gone this crazy?”

I silently watched their discussion, hugging the little figure in my arms even tighter.