Su Wanyin listened to Su Baoli’s sarcastic words, but instead felt something odd.
From what Su Baoli said, could Fu Shimò be ugly?
She frowned slightly.
That shouldn’t be right. In her later memories, wasn’t he always described as elegant, handsome, and extraordinary?
But almost immediately, her expression returned to normal.
In this life, she wasn’t here to rely on a man anyway. As long as she lived comfortably, that was enough. With so many ways to make money and the advantage of being reborn, she wouldn’t have to worry about living poorly.
……
The next day.
Early in the morning, Su Wanyin was pulled up by Su Baoli, who insisted on dressing her up.
She didn’t believe Su Baoli could be so kind, but when she saw herself in the mirror, she froze for a moment.
In the mirror, her hair—once yellowed and brittle from long-term malnutrition—was tied into a ponytail with a pale pink ribbon. Her thin, pale face had a light layer of cheap rouge, and her pair of bright, alluring peach-blossom eyes were dark and shining.
The lack of vitality in her body seemed partially restored by the light makeup.
Su Baoli looked at Su Wanyin, now changed into a simple white dress, and was briefly stunned—before forcibly suppressing the jealousy and envy in her eyes.
She hadn’t expected this sickly wretch to look this beautiful when dressed up.
Originally, she was afraid the Fu family might dislike Su Wanyin and still choose her instead, which was why she had deliberately helped her dress up.
But that was fine. The more beautiful she looked, the worse she would be treated by that “black brute” later—maybe she wouldn’t even survive a few days!
Su Baoli hid her satisfaction and, before Su Wanyin left, deliberately reminded her:
“Sister, I’ve done everything I can for you. If you still end up living badly in the future, that has nothing to do with me. Don’t come begging me for help later!”
She didn’t want to end up supporting a family sent down to the countryside!
Su Wanyin turned around and met her gaze, already understanding everything. She smiled faintly.
“As long as you don’t come asking me for help in the future.”
“Who would ever ask you for help? I’m going to be a wealthy madam with many children and endless prosperity!”
Su Baoli couldn’t help blurting it out in pride.
Many children and prosperity?
A wealthy madam?
Su Wanyin turned back and looked at her proud, chest-out posture, barely holding back her laughter.
She almost burst out laughing.
Su Baoli had no idea that in her previous life, those two children were not even Cheng Jiawen’s.
In her past life, Su Baoli had been burdened with rumors that she couldn’t bear children and was constantly pressured by her mother-in-law and sister-in-law.
Only later, when medical standards improved, was it discovered that Cheng Jiawen was actually infertile.
He would never have children of his own.
Yet that shameless man, for the sake of pride, bribed a doctor to claim that Su Baoli had fertility problems. Later, he even pretended to be deeply devoted to her while bringing home adopted children for her to raise.
And she, consumed by guilt, worked herself to exhaustion like an ox at home, only to die before learning the truth—from one of his mistresses.
Su Baoli noticed the faint redness on Su Wanyin’s face and smugly lifted her chin.
“Don’t be too angry. If you can’t even afford food later, you can come beg me. I might help you.”
Su Wanyin suppressed her amusement and said seriously:
“No need. Just make sure you don’t come begging me when you can’t even afford food later.”
……
After speaking, she turned and left.
Su Baoli watched her serious little face disappear, suddenly feeling uneasy for some unknown reason.
Without thinking further, she quickly ran toward the Cheng family.
……
Su Wanyin took a bumpy ox cart ride into the city.
The moment she got off, her face turned pale and her legs went weak. Before she could steady herself, she collapsed forward.
Suddenly, a pair of strong hands caught her.
Her nose hit a solid chest. She gasped in pain and looked up—meeting a pair of deep, dark eyes.
The man’s features were sharp and sculpted like they had been carved by a knife. His skin was pale, his nose bridge high, and his face strikingly handsome. Yet his cold, dangerous aura made him intimidating.
Those narrow eyes looked down at her with displeasure.
“How long are you planning to keep staring?”
“Oh—I’m not looking anymore, not anymore.”
Only then did Su Wanyin realize she had been staring. She quickly stepped back several times.
But her body hadn’t recovered yet, and after just a couple of steps, she staggered again toward him.
This time, the man seemed to anticipate it. He swiftly dodged.
Seeing her panicked expression and trembling peach-blossom eyes with a tiny mole beneath them, he frowned deeply and finally grabbed her collar, pulling her back like she weighed nothing.
Once she regained her balance, Su Wanyin widened her reddened eyes and covered her neck in disbelief as she looked at the rough man.
Wasn’t it just a few extra glances?
Was he that petty?
The man’s gaze swept over her washed-out dress, her thin, malnourished body, and her cheaply powdered face. Understanding flashed in his eyes.
“Your legs are fine—then walk properly. If you can’t walk properly, stay home. Don’t come out pretending to be a victim.”
Su Wanyin: ?
She choked in anger.
Just as she was about to retort, she noticed the black military boots on his feet and reluctantly swallowed her words.
She still hadn’t met Fu Shimò yet. For all she knew, any soldier she met now could be his colleague. Better to stay cautious and act harmless for now.
“Want to argue?” the man provoked sharply, noticing her expression.
“I just felt weak, I didn’t mean to cause trouble,” Su Wanyin replied softly, pretending to be fragile.
The man studied her sharply, suspicion deepening in his eyes.
Seeing she had no intention of continuing, she quickly walked past him toward the agreed meeting place—the state-run restaurant.
But as they brushed past each other, a familiar bitter medicinal scent drifted into her nose.
She paused briefly, then continued forward—but after a few steps, she couldn’t resist turning back and saying:
“Don’t use Manluo for pain relief. Qingluo grass works better.”
After speaking, she quickly left.
The man stood still, his expression dark and serious as he watched her thin figure disappear. A cold glint flashed in his eyes as he pressed a hand to his chest, suppressing the pain.
And in his mind, a certain suspicion finally solidified.
……
As she walked, Su Wanyin scolded herself for her meddling nature.
In her previous life, prolonged illness had made her something of a half-doctor. She had learned some medical knowledge from wandering traditional healers—nothing advanced, but enough to recognize herbs.
Manluo, the painkiller that man was using, was common now, but it had serious side effects and could even be addictive.
In later years, it had harmed countless heroes who served the country.
So when she saw his military uniform and noticed he was injured, she couldn’t help but warn him.
Entering the state-run restaurant, Su Wanyin scanned the room—and her gaze landed on a man sitting in the corner, holding a rose.
Instantly, her pupils shook violently, and her frail body nearly swayed in the wind.