Ruan Qiaoqiao was just about to chat with Fu Wenzhou about some future plans when, from inside the thatched hut, two somewhat thin boys wearing patched but clean clothes ran out one after the other.
The older one looked about seven or eight years old, the younger about three or four.
These should be Fu Wenzhou’s two sons, Fu Hengan and Fu Hengkang.
Fu Hengan chased after Fu Hengkang and grabbed the back of his collar, saying, “Kangkang, Dad is still going to send people away. You’re not allowed to disturb him.”
But Kangkang couldn’t hold back: “But I’m hungry. Dad, I’m so hungry.”
Ruan Qiaoqiao was speechless for a moment. So when Fu Wenzhou came out with a cold face earlier, he really had intended to chase her away.
If Fu Wenzhou disliked the Liu family so much, why did the Liu family still marry Liu Juxiang to him?
What exactly happened between them?
She was feeling puzzled and was about to ask when she saw Fu Wenzhou already looking at An’an.
“Then let’s eat.”
An’an cautiously glanced at Ruan Qiaoqiao. “This woman… isn’t leaving?”
Fu Wenzhou’s calm gaze fell on Ruan Qiaoqiao’s face, so steady that no emotion could be detected. “She’s not leaving. Let’s eat first.”
“Then… I’ll go get the corn buns and pickles.”
He turned and walked toward an east-facing, three-sided open straw shed.
Ruan Qiaoqiao also turned to look. Inside the shed, stones formed a simple stove opening, with a shaky iron pot placed on top. Beside it was a metal bucket.
Next to the bucket was a two-level wooden rack made by themselves. On the upper level were cornmeal buns and a small plate of shredded pickles.
On the lower level, right against the ground, were three or four dry potatoes, and in a broken willow basket lay a small bunch of wilted wild vegetables. Nothing else.
So poor.
How could a family of four live like this in the future?
She really had to plan carefully.
Just as she was worrying, Fu Wenzhou’s tall figure beside her spoke again.
“No need. Bring out the steamed buns and chicken soup in the house. We’ll eat inside.”
As soon as he said this, Ruan Qiaoqiao froze. What?
Steamed buns? Chicken soup?
Those were things ordinary rural families couldn’t even afford to eat.
Wasn’t he supposed to be very poor at this stage?
Even An’an and Kangkang were surprised.
Kangkang, being young and unable to hide his thoughts, looked up in confusion. “Dad, didn’t you say we should pretend to be poor in front of outsiders and only eat corn food?”
Pretend… poor?
Ruan Qiaoqiao glanced sideways at Fu Wenzhou, who looked completely calm.
Fu Wenzhou was also looking at her at this moment, his tone somewhat casual. “She’s married to me. She’s not an outsider. You should call her Mom.”
An’an stared at his father’s calm expression and felt… something was wrong.
He actually wanted them to call this bad woman from the Liu family “Mom”? He refused.
He snorted and turned his face away, ignoring Ruan Qiaoqiao. Kangkang quickly hid behind his brother, quietly observing her without saying anything.
Fu Wenzhou didn’t force them. After all, everything takes time.
He ignored Ruan Qiaoqiao’s puzzled gaze and turned to walk inside. “Come with me.”
Suppressing her curiosity, Ruan Qiaoqiao followed him into the thatched house.
Inside, it was a simple small living room.
There was only a low square table and two long benches. On the table were three cups, and beneath it was a green hollow metal thermos.
On the north wall stood a wooden cabinet about 1.6 meters tall. The upper half was open, the lower half had a door.
It looked like the home of a truly poor family.
But when Fu Wenzhou opened the lower cabinet, what Ruan Qiaoqiao saw inside stunned her.
There were five steamed buns on a plate, and a bowl of chicken soup in a small porcelain basin.
On the bottom level were two grain jars—one filled with corn flour, the other with white flour.
There was also a cloth bag bulging with what seemed like beans, plus five or six eggs and a small basin of cured meat.
Ruan Qiaoqiao: …
What… was she seeing?
Fu Wenzhou took out the steamed buns and chicken soup, placed them on the table, and said to the children, “Eat first. Ruan Qiaoqiao, come with me.”
On both sides of the living room were bedrooms. He led her into the eastern one.
As soon as she entered, Ruan Qiaoqiao was stunned again. From outside, it looked like a broken hut, but inside, the mud walls were neatly covered with newspaper for insulation.
By the small southern window was a wooden bed with neatly arranged blue bedding.
At the head of the bed was a wooden desk with a stack of books. On the corner sat a radio that couldn’t easily be bought even with money. Next to it was a tray with a kettle and a white enamel cup.
Against the north wall stood a tall matching wardrobe, nearly two meters high. Such good furniture was rare even in many newlyweds’ homes in the village, yet Fu Wenzhou had it all.
Fu Wenzhou walked to the desk, reached under it, and pulled open a hidden compartment. Inside was a neatly stacked bundle of large denomination bills.
He took them out and handed them to her. “Here’s five hundred yuan. Take it.”
Ruan Qiaoqiao stared at the money in shock.
She hadn’t known much about his life before his rehabilitation—only that he had been sent down here with nothing.
People like him weren’t even given work points. They could only rely on the village’s basic grain ration, and even that might not be enough, since this was the poorest village in the commune.
So where did all this food—and this money—come from?
Unable to hold back, she asked, “Where did you get so much money?”
Seeing her shocked expression, Fu Wenzhou remained calm, though faint amusement flashed in his eyes.
“Relax. It’s all clean money.”
“I didn’t mean that,” she said. She was just surprised.
She had thought she was coming here to suffer hardship and starvation with them, but it seemed… the situation had completely reversed.
Fu Wenzhou didn’t explain further and directly placed the money into her hands.
His refined face carried a natural sense of nobility. “I can’t leave Houliaohang Village. Take this money and buy yourself some new clothes in the city.”
Ruan Qiaoqiao accepted it without hesitation. Since she was already his wife, there was no reason not to take it.
Having money was better than being poor.
In the next day or two, she really needed to go to the city to buy some clothes anyway—she hadn’t brought anything with her when she came.
Just as she was thinking this, a terrified cry suddenly came from the living room outside:
“Dad! Help! My brother… something’s wrong with him again…”