“What?” Chen Xiuying shrieked. “Are you crazy?”
She had originally been afraid that her daughter would be bullied by her mother-in-law after marrying into the Xiao family, so she had deliberately taken one hundred yuan from the betrothal gift given by Jiang Runsheng’s family, along with two new quilts and daily necessities, intending to use them as her daughter’s dowry.
The moment Qiao Qingyan opened her mouth, she demanded double—this was practically asking for her life!
“Impossible!” Chen Xiuying refused through gritted teeth. “I’ll give you one new quilt and nothing else!”
“Then I won’t marry!” Qiao Qingyan showed not the slightest intention of compromising.
The meager wages she normally earned at home had all been handed over to Chen Xiuying for household expenses under various pretexts—she hadn’t managed to save a single cent.
She was about to marry into the Xiao family, and the in-laws were terribly poor. If she had no money in her hands, life would be even harder.
She couldn’t just let them manipulate and oppress her like this—she had to fight for as much benefit for herself as possible.
“Mom, don’t be angry.” Chen Xiaomeng quickly grabbed Chen Xiuying’s arm and pulled her into the inner room, then leaned close to her ear and whispered, “Agree to it first. After she marries over, we’ll find a way to get those things back from her.”
Chen Xiuying lowered her voice. “Things you’ve swallowed—how easy is it to spit them back out?”
Although her daughter had already told her the true situation of the Xiao family, and she knew that wretched girl Qiao Qingyan would have endless suffering after marrying over, her future days couldn’t possibly compare to her own daughter’s.
But double the dowry—how could she possibly agree to give that?
Chen Xiaomeng said, “Let her marry over first. Otherwise, it’ll be hard to explain to the Xiao family. What if they come making trouble?”
Chen Xiuying’s face alternated between green and white, and for a long time she couldn’t say a single word.
The betrothal money couldn’t possibly be returned—she had long since hidden it from Qiao Nianshan and secretly given it to her own younger brother from her natal family.
And making her provide double the dowry was also impossible.
As for Chen Xiaomeng, she of course didn’t want to break off the engagement with the Xiao family. In her previous life, she had truly suffered so much in the Xiao family, enduring the cold stares of her husband and mother-in-law, while Qiao Qingyan and Jiang Runsheng lived prosperously and sweetly.
In this life, she must make Qiao Qingyan suffer the same hardships she had endured in her previous life.
The Xiao family’s poverty was a bottomless pit.
During all her years in the Xiao family, that man could barely scrape together anything beyond the meager living expenses he gave her each month—if it wasn’t paying off debts, it was buying medicine for his mother again.
Even if Qiao Qingyan brought some money with her now, it couldn’t change the Xiao family’s actual living conditions.
Moreover, given her pampered young lady temperament—needing to eat well and use good things—she would squander it all in no time.
What awaited her in the future would be prolonged cold violence and the double torment of life and spirit.
Chen Xiaomeng was frustrated that she couldn’t explain all of this one by one and tell her mother that she had been reborn—who would believe it if she said it?
She could only continue coaxing her mother: “Your daughter is about to marry the village chief’s son, Jiang Runsheng. He’s on the public payroll—after we get married, all his money will have to be handed over to me, and I’ll certainly be able to show you more filial piety. Even if Qiao Qingyan doesn’t give you this money, I’ll make it up to you! Don’t you trust your own daughter?”
“Besides, you know Runsheng likes her. If she keeps staying at home, there’s no telling but that she might seduce Runsheng—then my marriage would be in jeopardy. Let her get married, and only then will Runsheng give up. Mom, for my happiness, we must marry her off.”
After listening to her daughter’s words, Chen Xiuying thought seriously for a long time before nodding.
She patted her daughter’s hand: “Mom will listen to you.”
After the mother and daughter finished their discussion, they sat back down at the dining table.
“Qingyan, the dowry you asked for, Mom agrees to it,” Chen Xiaomeng said.
Qiao Nianshan was very surprised by this. He was stunned for a moment, then put on a stern face and said to Qiao Qingyan:
“Look at how good your mom is to you, and your sister has been speaking up for you all along. If you had any sense of gratitude at all, you should treat them better.”
“Then I really must thank you all.” Qiao Qingyan said coldly: “The dowry money, two hundred yuan, remember not a single cent less.”
A meaningful smile curved at the corner of Chen Xiaomeng’s lips: [What’s two hundred yuan? Little sister, once you marry over there, you’ll know what it feels like to be a living widow. That Xiao Jinye is a useless thing. Just endure it for a lifetime, endure until you die. And Runsheng-ge and I will definitely be happy and blissful. By then you can envy and be jealous of me.]
Qiao Qingyan raised an elegant eyebrow. A useless thing? That was just wonderful.
She didn’t want to do that kind of thing with a man she didn’t love anyway.
Chaiyuan Ridge.
The temperature on the mountain was low. Xiao Jinye wore a camel-colored suede jacket, with crisp black pants accentuating his excessively superior long legs, and a pair of brown Martin boots on his feet. A long-barreled hunting rifle and two or three short knives of different styles hung at his waist.
The mountain wind swept past his sharp brows and eyes, his nose bridge as tall and straight as the distant mountain ridges.
His entire being exuded a wild, untamable edge.
At this moment, he held a bow and arrow in his hands, pressed his thin lips together, and was crouching in the grass, holding his breath and concentrating.
His hawk-sharp black eyes were fixed intently on a plump black-haired wild boar not far away.
The boar was feeding, completely unaware of him.
Xiao Jinye quietly drew an arrow from behind. His sturdy arms pulled the bow taut, and as he exerted force, blue veins surfaced on his arms, bursting with a suffocating wild tension.
He closed one eye, aiming the bow and arrow at the spot just behind the boar’s front leg.
He was extremely skilled at this. That was exactly where the vital organs were concentrated. After a hit, the boar would rapidly lose blood and oxygen, losing consciousness within thirty seconds to a few minutes.
Suddenly, with a “whoosh—” the arrow flew off the string like lightning, cutting straight through the grass and striking the boar with precision.
The boar immediately let out a few “oink oink~” cries and soon collapsed to the ground, its breath faint.
Xiao Jinye stood up. His tall, imposing frame was mighty and robust, his muscles bulging.
He nimbly leaped out of the grass, a faint smile tugging at his cold, stern features.
He gripped the boar’s front hooves with both hands and hoisted the nearly two-hundred-jin black-haired boar onto his shoulder in one motion, striding boldly toward the camp.
On the eastern side of Chaiyuan Ridge’s mid-slope was a small wooden cabin, built by his father’s own hands back in the day.
Hunting sometimes required staying overnight on the mountain, and this cabin was a temporary harbor.
Xiao Jinye needed to stay in the cabin for the night, and wait until the next morning to check the snares and traps he had set for any other prey, then bring everything down the mountain together.
When he reached the camp, Xiao Jinye saw cooking smoke rising from the cabin. His brow twitched, and his steps quickened.
“Well now, you’ve had quite a haul this time.” Fang Zhijie had just opened the cabin door when he saw Xiao Jinye returning with the boar on his shoulder.
Xiao Jinye walked inside, unloaded the boar from his shoulder, and placed it in the corner. He asked in a rough voice: “Why are you here?”
His voice was on the cold side, and his face rarely showed any expression—when he spoke, he always seemed somewhat emotionless.
Fang Zhijie leaned lazily against the doorframe, pursed his lips, and gestured toward the table. “Your mom was worried you’d go hungry, so she steamed some buns and had me bring them over.”
Xiao Jinye strode over to the small, low table. The table had already faded and was somewhat worn. On it sat a cloth bag, inside of which were yellow cornmeal buns giving off the fragrance of corn.
Besides the buns, there were also pickles his mother had made with her own hands, and steamed cured meat.
“Thanks.” Xiao Jinye pulled over a low stool and sat down, grabbed a bun, and stuffed it into his mouth—one bite took out more than half of it.
The bun was a bit dry going down, so he picked up his military canteen, tilted his head back, and gulped down water.
Light fell across his face through a small window.
The man’s jawline was as sharp as if carved with a knife, and his prominent Adam’s apple slid up and down as he swallowed.
Water droplets traced down his firm neck and disappeared into his collar. Every hard, defined line exuded an indescribable masculine appeal.
“Let me tell you some good news.” Fang Zhijie pushed his tongue against his cheek. Thinking about what he was about to say, he felt an inexplicable sense of schadenfreude.
He paused, then continued, “You still don’t know, do you? Your mom has arranged a marriage for you.”
“Cough, cough—” Xiao Jinye choked on the water in his mouth and asked in a hoarse voice, “What did you say?”
“I said, your mom has arranged a marriage for you. Do you know whose daughter it is?”
“Whose?”
Fang Zhijie grinned shamelessly. “Chen Xiaomeng from Shidianzi Village—you know, that dark girl…”
Xiao Jinye’s brows and eyes darkened. He said nothing.
“Hey, why are you making that face?” Fang Zhijie walked closer. “You’re about to get a wife. Don’t you have any remarks to make?”
“Who did you hear this from?” Xiao Jinye asked.
Fang Zhijie said seriously, “Your mom told me. She said she’d been keeping it from you all along. She knew you didn’t want to get married, so she could only hide it from you and settle it for you. The bride’s family has already accepted the betrothal gift. They’ve already agreed to the marriage.”
Xiao Jinye’s expression turned even colder and more somber.
He looked at Fang Zhijie, trying to find some flaw in his face that would reveal it as a joke. Unfortunately, there was none.
So it seemed to be true.
Xiao Jinye stuffed the half-eaten yellow bun back into the cloth bag, stood up, and paced back and forth in the room several times.
“This Qiao Nianshan can be said to have a double blessing.” Fang Zhijie continued chattering endlessly, sharing gossip from down the mountain with him.
“What do you mean?” Xiao Jinye asked.
“His eldest daughter is betrothed to you, and his younger daughter is betrothed to Jiang Runsheng from their village. His younger daughter is named Qiao Qingyan—do you remember her? That one, the soft, delicate little pampered thing…”
Fang Zhijie was talkative and went on and on.
“That Qiao Qingyan really is the best-looking girl in ten miles and eight villages…”
“Actually, Jiang Runsheng marrying her is also within expectations. Although he’s a bit less handsome than me, he’s still considered good-looking. Unlike people like us, those two are both educated people—one is a broadcaster and the other is a teacher. Whether in appearance or personality, they’re very well matched. They can be considered a fine couple.”
“Hey, say—if those two have a child, wouldn’t that kid be outstanding beyond compare…”
Xiao Jinye stood by the window, eyelids half lowered, his face hidden in shadow, expression unreadable.
It was just that those slightly glinting dark eyes grew darker and darker along with Fang Zhijie’s words.