The three walked into the state‑run restaurant, where quite a few people were already having breakfast. Gu Mufeng led them straight to a quiet corner table and seated them.
“Order whatever you like. Eat well—fill your stomach before we travel.”
Lu Qiqi looked at the menu and the spread of breakfast options, hesitating slightly. “Mufeng, let us keep it simple. Steamed buns and porridge will do.”
Gu Mufeng smiled warmly.
“Wife, our journey will take nearly three days. You cannot travel on an empty stomach. Besides—we are family now. Do not stand on ceremony with me. You and Little Chuan are both frail. From now on, you must eat properly and restore your health first—that matters above all else.”
As he spoke, his gaze lingered on her slender waist. So delicate… he thought. Will she be strong enough for our wedding night? He knew he was a vigorous man, and she was so very slight. He had no experience in such matters, yet he understood one thing clearly: if he hoped to cherish her fully in time, he must first nourish her body and build up her strength.
Without waiting for further discussion, he walked to the counter and ordered—meat buns, white steamed buns, porridge, and several dishes. When he returned, the table was laden with food.
Lu Chuan’s eyes went wide. He swallowed hard, unable to help himself. This was the most abundant meal he could ever remember seeing.
Lu Qiqi raised an eyebrow in quiet surprise. Sun Kaifeng had described the Gu family as destitute—so poor they could barely afford rice. Yet Gu Mufeng had ordered all this without blinking an eye. Either he was extravagantly careless with money… or the Gu family was nowhere near as poor as Sun Kaifeng claimed.
“Mufeng… is this not rather too much?” she asked.
Gu Mufeng shook his head and handed her a steaming meat bun. “Not at all. Whatever remains can travel with us on the train.”
Lu Qiqi considered for a moment. “Let me treat you to this meal. As thanks for helping me rescue Little Chuan yesterday.”
Gu Mufeng looked at her with an expression of gentle hurt. “Wife…”
Lu Qiqi blinked, confused. “What is it?”
Gu Mufeng sighed softly. “Wife—we are husband and wife now. What is mine is yours, and what is yours remains yours. Your husband draws a steady wage. Feeding you and Little Chuan well is within my means. Offering to pay separately… does that not make us strangers?”
His words filled Lu Qiqi’s heart with quiet warmth. She knew he spoke truly. They were bound together now. Yet they had known each other barely two days. Trust could not be forced—it must grow. She smiled and nodded.
“Very well. No more formality between us. I shall learn to trust you, and to be a worthy wife.”
Gu Mufeng beamed with pleasure. “Be yourself—that is all I ask.” He picked up a piece of meat and placed it into her bowl. “Taste this. See if it suits you.”
Lu Qiqi looked at the meat and felt deep gratitude. She understood: this was his way of promising he would stand beside her and protect them both. She gently moved the fatty portion back onto his plate. “I do not care for fatty meat. You eat it. I shall have vegetables instead.”
She meant it simply—she did not like fat. But in Gu Mufeng’s eyes, her gesture looked like something else entirely: she was being thrifty, saving the best for him.
After breakfast, Gu Mufeng took them to the supply and marketing cooperative near the station. In this era, nearly everything required ration coupons. He produced his coupons and purchased a selection of pastries and snacks for the journey. Lu Qiqi chose toothbrushes, toothpaste, and towels—they could not go indefinitely without proper hygiene.
In her past life, she had known nothing but hardship: endless toil and long hours tending the sick. In this life, she hoped for something simpler—peace, comfort, and happiness. She did not know then that some souls are born to be burdened, and that the more she sought peace, the more the world would call upon her goodness—for she was far too capable, and far too kind.
Seeing how worn their clothing was, Gu Mufeng bought a length of cloth. He kept it modest—they would travel three days and change trains afterward; too much baggage would be cumbersome. Lu Qiqi added scissors, needles, and thread. Three days upon the train would pass more quickly if she kept busy. In her former life, loneliness had taught her to sew—she had once made clothes for her dog. Sewing for people was different, yet not beyond her skill. And most urgently—she needed to make undergarments. Outer clothing could wait; clean underthings could not.
When their purchases were complete, they gathered their belongings and walked to the railway station. The station bustled with crowds and activity. Gu Mufeng held Lu Chuan’s hand firmly, careful not to lose him. Lu Qiqi walked close beside him, gazing with curiosity at everything around her. This was her first glimpse of a 1970s railway station—strange, yet vividly new.
Before long, they boarded the train. The carriage was better than she had expected. Crowded, yet reasonably spacious. Gu Mufeng had purchased sleeper tickets—four berths to a compartment. He had taken the lower berth on his side and the upper berth opposite. When they arrived, an elderly woman and a young boy already occupied the lower berth on the far side.
Gu Mufeng stowed their luggage and helped Lu Qiqi and Lu Chuan climb to the upper berth. It was less convenient, yet safer. Trains of this era lacked security cameras; pickpockets and pilferers were common enough. Seated on the narrow bunk, Lu Qiqi listened to the train’s steady rhythm—clack, clack, clack—and watched the countryside roll past the window. A deep, quiet calm settled over her.
Gu Mufeng arranged their bedding, then turned and walked toward the carriage vestibule.