Tang Huan pursed her lips in distress and leaned closer to Feng Sisi, whispering into her ear, “Sisi, actually… marrying a rich husband is pretty good~”
Was Tang Huan teasing her with the joke she had made on the bus?
Feng Sisi immediately looped her arm through Tang Huan’s and raised the English book to block both of their heads, whispering fiercely, “If I ever meet a rich man, I’ll introduce him to you first and marry you off!”
The rest of the class consisted of sixteen- and seventeen-year-old students, except for Tang Huan and Feng Sisi, who were both repeating the year. Their conversation wasn’t something suitable for the others to hear.
Knowing that Sisi was only joking, Tang Huan still felt she should explain her situation properly—some jokes shouldn’t be made about her.
The two of them squeezed closer together, and Tang Huan whispered into her ear, “I already have a husband.”
“!!”
The English book that was shielding them fell flat onto the desk. Feng Sisi stared at Tang Huan in shock. Huanhuan had a husband?
She was married?
Outside the classroom window, a head peeked in. Tang Huan caught it from the corner of her eye and quickly tugged at Feng Sisi’s sleeve, who was still frozen in shock, and reminded her softly while looking at the textbook, “The teacher is outside.”
Feng Sisi still hadn’t recovered, but her reflex toward the word “teacher” was instinctive. She immediately raised her English book in front of her face, her mouth moving soundlessly.
Even when Tang Huan was reciting, her voice was barely louder than a mosquito’s buzz. Feng Sisi could barely make out anything—it sounded like chanting.
Coming out of shock, Feng Sisi no longer had the mood to study. The English words knew her, but she didn’t know them.
She could only read words by first translating them into Chinese pronunciation—not the meaning, but the sound written in Chinese phonetics.
If she followed the textbook, she could read. If the format changed even slightly, she didn’t recognize them anymore.
They finally endured until the morning reading ended. The break between morning reading and first class was twenty minutes; students who hadn’t eaten breakfast could go to the cafeteria.
Feng Sisi pulled Tang Huan behind the teaching building to a big tree. Her curiosity was overflowing.
After checking that no one was around, she eagerly asked, “You’re only twenty—how are you already married?”
Getting married right at the legal age? That was way too rushed!
“There were some things at home,” Tang Huan said vaguely. She didn’t want to explain in detail; she wasn’t someone with a strong desire to share.
Sharing either suffering or happiness with others required courage.
Seeing that Tang Huan didn’t want to continue, Feng Sisi changed the question. “Then how old is your husband? Is he good to you?”
Tang Huan didn’t know how to answer. She lowered her head and looked at her shoes. She was still wearing the same sandals from yesterday—the same spots that had rubbed her feet raw were still painful today.
She understood all too well what it felt like to be isolated. If she said she was a widow whose husband had passed away, would Sisi still be willing to be friends with her?
What if everyone found out?
She remembered how she had once been laughed at and pointed at behind her back while sitting in a wheelchair.
She couldn’t bring herself to speak.
Seeing her suddenly fall silent, Feng Sisi crouched down and looked up at her. “What’s wrong? Is he not good to you?”
Facing that concerned gaze, Tang Huan could only murmur a few words, “He… he’s pretty good.”
She was a coward—someone who didn’t even dare to tell the truth.
After the college entrance exam, she would tell her truth. For now, she would teach Feng Sisi English. Even if Sisi didn’t want to be her friend anymore then, at least they would have both gained something.
She didn’t want to lie; she just… had never really had a friend before.
“Come on, I’ll take you to the cafeteria to get some eggs,” Feng Sisi said, standing up and pulling Tang Huan along.
She didn’t believe Tang Huan’s words that her husband was “pretty good.” If he really was, how could she be unable to say anything?
Her best friend was probably being mistreated at home!
No problem—she would take care of her. Tang Huan was so thin; she probably hadn’t eaten breakfast properly.
Step one of taking care of a best friend: buy her food.
Two eggs cost five cents. They were the most expensive item in the cafeteria. Feng Sisi stuffed both eggs into Tang Huan’s hands. “Look how thin you are! Are you not eating enough at home?”
Holding the two eggs, Tang Huan quickly explained, “No, I eat a lot!”
Her appetite was even bigger than her mother-in-law’s, she just didn’t gain weight.
After leaving the cafeteria, they returned to the classroom before the bell rang.
Tang Huan sat down and reached into her desk to peel the eggs. After peeling one, she handed it to Feng Sisi, then peeled the second for herself.
Both eggs were originally bought for Tang Huan, and Feng Sisi had already eaten breakfast. She wanted to give them back, but when she thought that this was her best friend’s personally peeled egg, she suddenly felt like she still had room in her stomach.
Tang Huan also had space in her stomach since she hadn’t finished her porridge earlier. One egg was easily enough.
Meanwhile, in the classroom, she attended class; elsewhere, Chen Cui was taking Meng Zeyan to the state-run shop.
What happened at the breakfast stall that morning, Meng Zeyan hadn’t told anyone. Chen Cui also didn’t know.
Her main goal now was to buy shoes for her daughter-in-law—and at the same time, see if she could introduce a match for her son.
That morning, she had already asked the matchmaker about the salesgirls at the shop.
Coincidentally, the shoe saleswoman was single.
Besides her, there were also salesgirls for clothes, snacks, and pastries…
Chen Cui felt the shoe saleswoman was the most fated one. They were there to buy shoes, and the girl just happened to be single—this was destiny!
Unaware of his mother’s plans, Meng Zeyan followed her around the store.
After wandering for a while, they finally reached the shoe section. Chen Cui didn’t look at the shoes first—she first examined the saleswoman.
The girl wore a gray work uniform, tall and well-proportioned. Her hair was braided into two long plaits in front. She looked decent enough, though her skin was a bit dark.
Chen Cui wasn’t being picky—being dark was normal. Not many girls these days were as fair as Xiao Huan.
It was only a brief glance. She then turned to the shoe display.
There were white sneakers with red accents and pure white ones, as well as various leather shoes—flat and high-heeled, in red, black, and brown.
Chen Cui looked back and forth several times and felt they all looked good. Whatever Xiao Huan wore would look good anyway.