Shen Xiatian set down the washbasin, climbed onto the kang, and pulled her quilt—a patchwork of mended fabric—over herself with a look of aggrieved resentment.
She had been using this quilt since she was a child. After all these years, the cotton batting inside had grown thin and stiff. In the mild climate of Shanghai, it had been warm enough for winter, but here in the Northeast, it offered no more warmth than a sheet. She would often wake up shivering in the middle of the night. If not for her naturally robust constitution, she would have fallen ill long ago.
Shen Xiatian lay beside Sister Yuanchun. Fearing she might catch Yuanchun’s cold, she turned her back to her. Yet, she felt immensely wronged, nursing a secret resentment toward Kong Yuanchun for being so stingy; despite all her talk of treating her like a younger sister, Yuanchun couldn't bring herself to share a warmer quilt.
Chapter 874