Chapter 142: Rebuked By Gus Lu

To get to the Southon Village, Debbie and her schoolmates had first taken a two-hour ride on a high-speed train. Then they transferred to a bus, which took them seven hours. By the time they arrived, it was already dark. The bus had bumped all the way along the rugged mountain roads, jolting the passengers on it badly. Debbie never had carsickness, but this time, she couldn't help but feel dizzy. She bent down on the roadside and retched a few times, but didn't vomit.

A few of her schoolmates had begun vomiting as soon as they got off the bus.

The pungent smell of vomit and the disgusting sight of it only made things worse for Debbie. Just when she felt she was safe, her stomach churned violently, and in one loud retch she threw up.

Dixon opened the lid off his water bottle and handed it to Debbie to wash her mouth. "There's no hot water right now. Just take a few sips of this bottle of water first," he said.

Debbie took the bottle and rinsed the taste out of her mouth with the water. Now that she felt much better, she was finally in a mood to appreciate the scenery.

As they stood up high and looked around, the students could see the small village in the distance—dozens of houses lined up at the foot of the mountain. Most of the houses were smallish one-storey houses, with the tallest standing only three-storey up.

Still feeling exhausted from the journey, Debbie stretched herself. It was refreshing to finally breathe the clean air of the countryside.

But the biggest problem was... the piercing coldness in the mountain area

A gust of cold wind blew over, threatening to freeze them into icy stumps sticking out of permafrost.

Although they all came in warm clothing, they were not prepared for biting cold. The girls soon began to complain. Even some of the boys found it worse than they had expected.

Once the villagers learnt of the students' arrival, many of them, especially children, stood at the entrance of the village to welcome the group. As Debbie and her schoolmates walked towards the villagers, they were shocked to realize that the children's faces and hands were turning red from exposure while they waited. And it really gripped Debbie's heart that the kids wore old, worn-out cotton clothes, which were far from enough to keep them warm in such harsh weather. Worse still, some of the children wore thin, baldly beaten shoes.

With wide eyes, the children stared curiously at the visitors from the big city. Expectation and eagerness to learn about the outside world were obvious on their faces.

Behind the children, there stood a group of old or middle-aged women, wearing genuine, welcoming smiles on their tanned faces. They raised their gnarled hands and waved enthusiastically.

The scene moved most of the students close to tears. Born and brought up in affluence, they were jolted, coming face to face with such abject poverty for the very first time.

Even though they had already mentally prepared themselves before they came, the squalid living conditions here were way too unsettling.

The donated relief supplies would arrive at the village tomorrow, so the students would start their work from tomorrow. After greeting the students, the village head led them to the host families, where they would spend the night.

Since there were fifteen students in total, they were assigned into smaller groups for accommodation in different villagers' houses. And some were in individual rooms. When Debbie saw the room that was arranged for her, she gave a helpless sigh.

But she didn't want to complain, because she had seen Jared's and Dixon's rooms too. Compared to their rooms, hers was much better. The conditions were indeed terrible. The room was simple with only a wooden bed, a rickety table, a chair, a broken desk and an old wardrobe. Everything was seen at a glance.

The only thing to comfort Debbie was that there was a new and clean set of bedding. She counted herself lucky for that.

It was getting darker outside. After dropping off their own luggage at their different rooms, the group gathered at the village head's house and had dinner together.

The village head had prepared enough food for the guests. On the long table, various dishes were served, everything from fresh farm ingredients. There was rabbit meat, turkey, pork and fish. All generously provided by farmers across the village. Although the dishes didn't look all that decorated, the aroma aroused Debbie's appetite.

After a moment of hesitation, Gregory finally picked his chopsticks and took a bite. But the other girls sat still, sipping at their cups of hot tea, to get some warmth. Gus and Jared, both born into aristocracy, kept killing time by playing games on their phones, without even lifting their chopsticks. Debbie couldn't help but nudge Jared, and persuaded in a hushed voice, "Jared, eat something. Show some respect to the villagers!"

Debbie knew sacrifice it must have taken the women who volunteered to prepare the meals. 'The villagers would find it insulting, if we don't eat, ' she thought.

Reluctantly, Jared pursed his lips, put his phone aside and grabbed his chopsticks to pick a few slices of meat.

However, Gus didn't care. He remained glued to his phone. Unimpressed by his aloofness, Debbie rolled her eyes, but she didn't want to wheedle him.

As the team leader, Dixon, realized it was incumbent on him to address Gus' indifference and maybe discourage anyone who might have similar thoughts. So when all the villagers went outside, he rose up to speak. "Hey, guys, listen to me! The villagers have devoted a lot of effort to prepare this meal for us. Maybe these foods are not good enough for you guys, but for them, these are the best. Probably, they will only have the chance to enjoy such a big meal once a year, on Spring Festival. So let's be considerate enough, just like what Debbie said. Eat some and show respect to the villagers, okay?"

After Dixon's words, all the students obeyed him and began eating the food, except one person...

Once more, Debbie rolled her eyes. But she came up with an idea. "Dixon, do we have anything to charge our phones tonight?" she asked. Maybe that would destruct Gus.

Dixon instantly understood what Debbie meant to say. "No," he answered, his gaze fixed on Gus.

Earlier when they dropped off their luggage, all of their attention was on how bad the living conditions were, so nobody noticed whether there was any socket in the room or not. Thus, when everyone heard Dixon's answer, they woke up to another unpleasant reality. That was an inconvenience to their digital lifestyles.

But right then, the village head and the other villagers came in with some pots of wine in their hands. Seeing them coming in, the students had to suppress their complaints and quietly ate the food again.

Still twiddling his fingers on the phone, Gus squinted at Debbie. "Stupid!" he spat out.

Obsessed with his phone as he was, he had taken the time to check if there was a socket in his room, and to his relief, there was. So he could play on his phone all he wanted without worries on where to recharge.

Since Gus would not budge, Debbie took out her phone and texted him. "If you don't eat the food, I'll call Mr. Lu," she wrote.

Before she came here, Curtis had given Gus' phone number to her, just in case they needed to contact each other for the time they'd be posted in the village. Curtis had also told her that if she had any trouble, she could ask Gus for help.

When Gus saw the message from Debbie, he shot an incredulous glance at her, just in time to catch her returning the phone back into her pocket. "I've never seen such an annoying woman!" Gus cursed.

His voice wasn't that loud but was enough to be heard by their schoolmates. As Gus' eyes were fixated at Debbie, everyone instantly understood who the annoying woman was in his mouth.

The villagers were preparing the wine at one side so they didn't hear it. Gail and the other girls chuckled under their breaths.

What had Debbie done to earn his rebuke? Was it something major that Gus would carry the disagreement back to school?

Unimpressed by Gus' behavior so far, Jared put down his chopsticks and wanted to retort. But Debbie grabbed his wrist and stopped him. "Never mind. Go on with your meal," she persuaded.

At least, Debbie's message had gotten home. Feeling pressured, Gus had already taken his chopsticks and begun to take a bite of the food. As such, Debbie thought it was unnecessary to let Jared join the argument.

Yet, a question suddenly rose in her heart. She didn't understand why Curtis had to ask Gus to come with her.

In the middle of the meal, the village head's wife came to the dinner table after finishing her housework. A student stood up and politely ceded his seat to her. But she shook her head and chose to sit next to Debbie.

As Debbie was relishing the special flavor of the peach blossom wine made by the villagers, she finally got to know why the village head's wife chose to sit next to her. She realized that she was specially treated by the village head's wife. The woman happily greeted in her local dialect and proceeded to add more food onto Debbie's plate.

Although Debbie didn't understand her language, she could feel the hospitality in her tone and suppressed the urge to stop the woman from adding food onto her plate.

Seeing how the two got along so well, Jared said jokingly whether the village head's wife wanted Debbie to stay and marry her son. Debbie would probably have a dotting mother-in-law.

Amidst amused giggles, everyone's eyes turned to Debbie, who pretended offense at Jared's joke.

After dinner, the village head took them to attend a campfire party. The bone chilling cold on the way made them yearn for the bonfire so much that when they finally arrived, they couldn't hide their excitement.

A group of young boys and girls dressed in cultural costumes were on the site to entertain their visitors with dance and song. Beaming with glee, they greeted and invited the students to dance together.

Debbie joined the dancing group too. On her left hand was a pretty girl dressed in a yellow cultural costume; while on her right hand was the handsome son of the village head, also dressed in a cultural costume and a large woven hat on his head.

The young man and a few of the young villagers had basic compulsory education, so they at least had enough conversational fluency in standard Mandarin to have chit chat with the students. It was sheer fun to finally have locals to talk to, ask questions and learn about the culture.

After the campfire party, Debbie went back to her room, feeling thoroughly entertained. But she shivered in cold again when she went back to her room. In a few minutes, without washing her face, she quickly went to her bed.

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