Jicheng carried the items in both hands and had just sat down when the waiter, smiling warmly, approached. Upon seeing Chunfu behind him, the waiter immediately changed his tone: “Please take a seat, both of you. The noodles will be ready right away.”
Jicheng watched the waiter leave with confusion and muttered, “What’s with that guy?”
Chunfu, observing the chirping chicks moving around in the basket, looked up at the direction the waiter had gone. Soon, the curtain to the back kitchen was lifted, and the waiter returned with the noodles. Placing them down, he said, “The young lady ordered these noodles a while ago and already paid. Miss Jin also instructed us to add an egg. Please enjoy your meal.”
Jicheng frowned deeply, sighed after a long pause, and asked, “Where did you get the money for noodles? Never mind.” He pushed the bowl toward her and said gently, “Eat up.”
Chunfu, already full from the pastries at the Jin family’s shop, pushed the bowl back and said earnestly, “I’m full from the pastries. I’m not hungry. You’ve worked hard—eat up so we can go home. I saved the money you gave me a few days ago.”
Her words were crisp and clear, devoid of childishness, sounding surprisingly sweet and gentle. If not for her rubbing her stomach, he might have mistaken her for a perfectly normal woman.
He insisted on having the waiter bring another set of chopsticks and a bowl, dividing the egg and noodles with her before starting to eat. He had originally planned to endure until they got home and just have some bread, but now the noodles tasted unexpectedly sweet.
Their seemingly ordinary interaction drew sidelong glances from nearby customers. The town was bustling, and after a tiring morning, people just wanted to eat in peace. Suddenly, a woman’s cries and a man’s curses erupted from the street, occasionally punctuated by the sound of objects being smashed.
Afraid Chunfu might be frightened, Jicheng quickly spoke up: “I was so busy earlier, I almost forgot. After we finish eating, let’s buy some meat. We promised to invite Liansheng’s family over for a meal after our wedding. We’ll need their help in the future, so let’s ask Zhang Yan to come too.”
Chunfu nodded. The commotion outside continued, but the shopkeeper and waiter seemed unfazed, as if such scenes were common. Men beating women was an unfortunate reality everywhere. Women here had no choice but to endure their fate under harsh moral constraints, lacking the courage to break free. Chunfu could only pity them. Too full to eat more, she tugged at Jicheng’s sleeve with a pained expression. Watching him finish her leftovers without complaint filled her heart with warmth. Not only was he handsome, but his table manners were refined—unlike others who wolfed down their food. Meeting such a man was truly her good fortune.
After the meal, they packed up and left. Chunfu carried the basket on her arm, occasionally playing with the chicks. She hoped to raise a couple of ducks later to liven up their yard. Jicheng walked beside her, glancing at her now and then, his eyes brimming with quiet joy.
The butcher was in a good mood today, slicing a piece of pork belly and even throwing in two bones for free, joking they were for the dog. Jicheng thanked him and hurried with Chunfu to meet Third Uncle at the agreed spot.
Few people were heading back to the village. Third Uncle sat in the shade, a cigarette perpetually in hand, smoke curling lazily into the air. Seeing them approach, he took a drag and exhaled: “Earlier than I expected. Oh, you’ve bought quite a lot.”
Jicheng, knowing he might need Third Uncle’s help in the future—and aware that without his kindness, they might not have gotten a ride—replied, “Chunfu and I just got married. We’re planning to host a meal tomorrow for friends. The evening will be cooler—why don’t you join us?”
Third Uncle rubbed his head and agreed with a smile: “Sure, I’ll drop by tomorrow. Let’s head back now.”
Chunfu, dreading the bumpy ride that always left her feeling queasy, gritted her teeth and climbed aboard.
Meanwhile, Jiliang in town was having a rough day. At dawn, his father pounded on his door loud enough to make his head throb. What else could it be but the money for Jikun? Reluctantly, he called out, “Dad, I’m coming.”
Qiaoyun, now wide awake, grumbled once the footsteps faded: “Dad’s being so heartless. To put it bluntly, he’s halfway to the grave—once he’s gone, he won’t hear the gossip. But we’ll still have to live here. If we’re labeled thieves, how can we face anyone? No one will care that we did it for Eldest Brother. We can’t just swallow this bitterness.”
Jiliang frowned, his worries deepening, but he shot her a look: “Get up and make breakfast. Stop overthinking. If Mom sees you slacking, she’ll scold you again.”
Qiaoyun dressed and tied her hair, still fuming: “I don’t know if that old woman at home has a heart. I’m one of the quickest in the village, yet she still calls me slow. Who knows what she wants? If she dislikes my pace, why doesn’t she do it herself? Putting on airs like some noble lady—she should look in the mirror.”
Jiliang ignored her complaints, washed his face in the yard, and headed to the front. The sky had barely brightened. For days, he’d lurked outside Jicheng’s house like a thief, tormented by guilt. He had no idea what his father was planning now.
He found his father sitting on a rock outside, lost in thought. Hesitantly, he called, “Dad.”
Jipeng turned and stood: “We’re going together today. I’ve told you enough—forget past ties. Your uncle’s family means nothing to you now. A real man acts decisively. No more hesitation.”
Jiliang followed, his steps heavy as if weighed down by boulders. Perhaps it was fate—they arrived just in time to see Jicheng and his wife lock up and leave.
“Dad, how can we get in? It’s locked. Let’s just borrow the money. We can work extra jobs later and save up to repay it.”
Jipeng glared: “Useless. You’ll never amount to anything.”
To Jiliang’s shock, his father pulled out a silver hairpin—his mother’s—and picked the lock with ease. Since leaving, this was Jiliang’s first time back inside. The sparse furnishings made the place seem empty, but it was clean. Though literate, Jiliang searched repeatedly but found no IOU.
Jipeng cursed: “Where would Jicheng hide valuables if not at home? Not even a spot for mice!”
As the sun rose, villagers began their day. Fearful of being seen, they hurried away.
Chunfu dozed against Jicheng’s shoulder the entire ride, lulled by the setting sun. Jicheng bore her weight patiently, chatting with Third Uncle to pass the time.
She only woke as they reached the village. Elders under the trees, about to head home for dinner, whispered at the sight of the newlyweds. Their purchases—pastries and meat—drew envious stares: “Jicheng’s been shopping in town. Newlyweds live so well—it’s enviable.”
Jicheng merely smiled and led Chunfu home. He neither befriended nor offended these villagers. Many elders had once urged his parents to cast him out, fearing he’d bring misfortune. The memory still stung.
“Chunfu, your parents’ place is right here. Won’t you visit before going home?”
Chunfu disliked their nosy smirks. Unlike Jicheng, she couldn’t smooth things over. Soon, Xiuhua emerged from her brother’s house, her plain face twisting into a sly grin. She hurried over, simpering: “Brother Jicheng, where’ve you been? Oh, so many things!” Spotting new fabric, she touched it: “New clothes? For Chunfu? Village women make their own—buying’s such a waste. Honestly—”
Chunfu shoved the basket into Jicheng’s arms and pushed Xiuhua away firmly, her tone slow but firm: “Ugly. Don’t talk to Jicheng. Don’t dirty my things.”
Jicheng, seeing her pout, patted her shoulder: “Let’s go home.” Softly, he added: “I’ll wash it for you later.”
Xiuhua flushed crimson. She’d only approached because of Jicheng’s looks—who’d bother with a jinx otherwise? Huffing, she stormed off.
The sun had set, leaving only stubborn streaks of light. Unlocking the door, Jicheng went inside to stash his earnings. Chunfu followed, sensing something amiss. Her sharp memory soon pinpointed it—the neatly folded cloth on the bed was askew, moved to another corner. “Someone’s been here,” she said flatly.
Jicheng froze. He’d arranged everything himself—it couldn’t have moved on its own. His face darkened. He rushed to Liansheng’s house, where the family was dining. They greeted him warmly: “Have you eaten?”
Jicheng shook his head: “We just got back from town. Did you hear anything unusual today? I think we’ve been robbed.”
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