“This curtain is meant to hang in front of the window indoors to block out the sunlight outside.”

As soon as Shen Nanchu explained, Yu Lanhua understood.

“Isn’t that just like the bed sheets we have at home?! Easy peasy.”

Shen Nanchu froze for a moment—could she take back what she just said?

Seeing the enthusiastic look on Aunt Lanhua’s face, she couldn’t.

Fine then.

“Auntie, wait for me.”

All the things she had bought from the supply and marketing cooperative were piled up in Shen Nanchu’s room.

There was no helping it—right now, hers was the only room in the house with a lock.

Shen Nanchu walked back into her room, rummaged through her things, and pulled out a bundle of floral fabric, along with a sheet of paper and a pen.

Once outside, she shoved the bundle into Yu Lanhua’s arms.

“Auntie, just follow the design I give you.”

Shen Nanchu wasn’t the best at drawing, but sketching a simple curtain design was well within her abilities.

With a few strokes of her pen, several distinct curtain styles took shape on the paper.

Yu Lanhua stared in astonishment.

“My goodness, you city folks sure know how to have fun.”

“Who’d have thought a simple piece of cloth covering a window could come in so many fancy styles?”

Yu Lanhua felt like she’d just broadened her horizons.

Still, she was skilled at sewing clothes, and with a design to follow, how hard could curtains be?

“Don’t you worry, Nanchu. Leave these curtains to me—I’ll make sure you’re satisfied.”

With that, Yu Lanhua dashed off, clutching the fabric and the sketch.

Watching her confident retreat, Shen Nanchu swallowed the words on the tip of her tongue.

Well then.

It should be fine.

She ought to have a little faith in Aunt Lanhua.

……

Night deepened.

Wang Family Village gradually sank into slumber.

Only the occasional croak of frogs and chirp of insects broke the silence.

Moonlight seeped through the window cracks, casting a glow on Shen Nanchu’s peaceful sleeping face.

Her jet-black hair cascaded like satin, accentuating her snow-white skin. Her features were flawless—long lashes, a delicate nose, and lips as pink as newly bloomed rose petals.

She was breathtakingly beautiful.

Suddenly,

Those long lashes fluttered slightly.

The next moment, Shen Nanchu’s eyes flew open.

A flash of irritation crossed her bright, lively eyes.

In the dead of night, there were always some tactless people who fancied paying her a visit.

Shen Nanchu sighed in resignation.

It was all because she was too beautiful—even thorns couldn’t deter those who wanted to pluck her.

She rolled out of bed, stretched her limbs, and prepared to battle the intruder outside for eight hundred rounds.

But the moment she opened the door, Shen Nanchu froze in place.

Under the moonlight,

A pure white dog lay collapsed in the courtyard, its paws desperately scratching at a pile of discarded wood stacked in the yard.

The noise Shen Nanchu had heard earlier was the sound of the dog clawing at the wood.

“Host, this dog is injured and about to die.”

The system’s voice echoed in Shen Nanchu’s ears.

The white dog noticed her and bared its teeth in a snarl. But after barely two seconds, it slumped back down, too weak to keep up the threat.

This dog wouldn’t have come here without reason—unless it was familiar with the place.

A thought flashed through Shen Nanchu’s mind.

Could this dog have belonged to the previous owner of the house?

If so, then the villagers’ claims about the house being “unclean” made sense.

If it was the former owner’s pet, Shen Nanchu figured she could at least bury it after it died.

Wait—no.

Shen Nanchu’s gaze abruptly dropped to the dog’s belly.

Its stomach was swollen and round.

Was it pregnant?

The white dog lay motionless, its breathing faint.

Just as Shen Nanchu assumed it was a tragic case of “two lives lost,” the dog suddenly convulsed violently.

“Whimper… whine—!”

With one last pained cry, the dog’s head slumped to the ground, lifeless.

Its dark eyes slowly dulled, losing their light.

Meanwhile, its once-distended belly gradually deflated.

Did it… give birth?

Shen Nanchu stepped closer and saw a tiny, wet black puppy nestled beside the white dog—soft, pudgy, and wrapped in a layer of grayish-black fuzz like a little ball of fluff!

Its eyes were still shut, its ears pressed flat against its head. Its pink paws curled beneath its round little body as its nose twitched, searching for milk. There was an endearing clumsiness to it that made one itch to gently stroke it.

So… the mother died and left her this puppy?

Shen Nanchu frowned.

She didn’t know how to raise a dog.

But if she didn’t, who in this village could afford to keep one?

What to do?

Just as Shen Nanchu wrestled with the dilemma,

A soft warmth brushed against her foot.

The little black pup had wriggled over and was now nuzzling her, like a tiny ball of coal.

If it grew up plump and sturdy, wouldn’t it look just like the black bear spirit that stole the monk’s robe?

The thought inexplicably struck a chord in Shen Nanchu’s heart.

She crouched down and stroked the puppy’s head.

Feeling the warmth of her palm, the pup happily nuzzled closer.

Alright then.

She could use a guard dog anyway.

“Little one, from now on, your name is Coal Ball.”

“Stick with me, and I’ll make sure you live the good life—feasting on the finest, never worrying about food or drink.”

Coal Ball seemed to understand her words, obediently rubbing against her hand with extra enthusiasm.

Shen Nanchu carried the pup back inside.

Digging through her belongings, she pulled out two old pieces of clothing and fashioned a makeshift bed for it.

Coal Ball settled into the pile, quiet for a brief moment before squirming again.

Shen Nanchu pressed it back down. Less than two seconds later, it wriggled once more.

She pressed, it squirmed.

After several rounds of this, the system had seen enough.

“Host, the puppy was just born. It’s probably hungry.”

Hungry?

The mother was dead—where was it supposed to get milk?

Shen Nanchu’s brain short-circuited for a second.

System: “The exchange page has powdered milk. You can trade for some to feed the puppy. There’s a discount right now—originally 888, now just 88.”

Shen Nanchu: “Do I look like someone who’d spend 88 dislike points?”

The system paused. “Host, based on your current dislike points and all relevant data… yes, you would.”

Shen Nanchu smirked. “Trade for milk? Not happening.”

System: “…Why not?”

Shen Nanchu: “Dislike points should be spent where they matter most.”

System: “I never took you for this kind of host. The puppy’s so cute, and you’d just let it starve?”

Shen Nanchu: “…”

“This system’s malfunctioning. I want a replacement.”

System: “Wait, host! I’ll shut up now.”

Peace at last.

Shen Nanchu opened her suitcase and began searching through it.

Trading for milk was out of the question—why?

Because she already had some.

And for that, she had Pei Zhengnian to thank.

He was the one who’d stuffed the milk powder into her luggage.

Originally, Shen Nanchu had been tempted to toss it—after all, the original owner had consumed some.

She wasn’t about to eat someone else’s leftovers.

Now, though, it was perfect—dog food.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep