The donkey cart came to a stop at the Gu family’s gate. The donkey pulling it gave a snort, its four legs trembling with exhaustion.
Mai Sui looked up and sized up the Gu household before her.
A courtyard wall of rammed yellow earth, a wooden gate with a gap in it. In the yard, a barred rock hen was scratching at the ground, thin as a quail, and after pecking around forever it hadn’t turned up a thing.
A crowd of people had gathered at the gate.
There wasn’t much excitement to be had in the village, so a family taking in a bride was a huge occasion—like a New Year’s opera coming to town.
Men and women, old and young, stood in two rows, craning their necks to get a look. Some cracked sunflower seeds, some gossiped, and a couple of half-grown boys had even climbed up a tree to watch.
“Sister-in-law, come on down,” Gu Qingshan called, reaching out a hand to help her.
Mai Sui didn’t take his help. She hopped down from the cart herself and brushed the dry straw off her padded jacket.
The onlookers muttered among themselves, saying the new bride was pretty enough, but so skinny—what kind of work could she possibly do?
She let it all go in one ear and out the other. Picking up her tattered bundle, she stepped over the Gu family’s threshold.
Several people stood in front of the main room’s door.
At their head was an old woman in her fifties—scrawny, with grizzled hair and rims of her eyes bright red. She had clearly just been crying.
Mai Sui guessed this must be her mother-in-law, Liu Guifang.
Shrinking behind the old woman was a little girl, five or six years old, with sallow hair like dried grass and shoes with peeling soles. Her eyes were big and bright, and she peeked out timidly from behind the grown-ups’ legs like a little kitten.
The old man beside Liu Guifang had to be her father-in-law, Gu Dashan. He was hunched over, eyes darting about, not daring to look at her.
There were also two younger women.
One was a bit plump, with a round face, smiling like the Maitreya Buddha—but her eyes darted around like abacus beads, sizing Mai Sui up from head to toe, not even missing the dust on her shoes.
The other was thin, with upturned eyes and thin lips. She stood beside the plump woman without a word, her gaze like a scale weight, weighing how much Mai Sui was worth.
Before she left home, her mother had mentioned: the plump one was the second son’s wife, Wang Cuijuan; the thin one was the third son’s wife, Li Ming’e.
“Sister-in-law’s here!” Wang Cuijuan was the first to come forward, smiling as warmly as if greeting her own sister, reaching out to take her bundle. “What a long trip, sister-in-law. Come inside and warm up—it’s freezing out here!”
“No need.” Mai Sui raised her hand and lightly dodged hers, carrying her bundle over the threshold herself.
Wang Cuijuan’s hand hung frozen in midair. Her smile paused for a second, then returned, as if nothing had happened.
But as she stepped back, she exchanged a glance with Li Ming’e, one that said: Well, well—this one’s a tough customer.
Li Ming’e watched from the side without a word, but the corners of her mouth tightened inward.
The main room didn’t have much in the way of decent furniture, but the kang was heated nice and warm, and a wave of warmth hit you the moment you stepped inside.
The room was tidied up neat and clean—you could tell Liu Guifang was a hardworking woman.
On the wall hung a portrait of Chairman Mao, and beside it a family photo. The most eye-catching was a solo portrait: the man in it wore a military uniform, with thick brows and big eyes, a high nose bridge, and a square jaw. His gaze fixed on the camera, cold as if interrogating a criminal.
This was Gu Qingye.
Mai Sui glanced at that face, and only one thought filled her mind.
What a waste of that face—looking that good, he should be a movie star, not a soldier stuck out here.
Sure enough, all the handsome ones get handed over to the state.
A reed mat covered the kang, with several quilts stacked at its far end. On the kang table sat a few dishes: a bowl of pickled cabbage stewed with glass noodles, a plate of scrambled eggs, a dish of pickled vegetables, and a few steamed buns made of mixed flour.
For this family, a meal like this was probably something they’d only splurge on at New Year. To welcome the new bride, they’d clearly emptied the pantry.
She glanced around. Aside from the three daughters who had married out, the whole Gu family was present—everyone except the groom, Gu Qingye, who was nowhere to be seen.
“Where’s the groom?” Mai Sui asked casually, without a trace of resentment.
This time, before Wang Cuijuan could open her mouth, Li Ming’e spoke first, jerking her chin toward the east room. “In there. Military men—such airs.”
Her husband, the third son Gu Qingbai, hurriedly nudged her and whispered, “Keep it down.”
“What? What did I say wrong?” Li Ming’e slapped her chopsticks on the table. Her voice wasn’t loud, but her words had barbs. “Big Sister-in-law is here, and Big Brother is hiding in his room like some shy maiden. Is he taking a wife or a decoration?”
Mai Sui said nothing. She just got up and walked over.
Wang Cuijuan and Li Ming’e exchanged a look, the corners of their mouths curling up, as if waiting for a show.
A new bride running into a cold-faced man the moment she walks in—let’s see how she handles that.
She reached the door of the east room and lifted the door curtain.
And then…
She saw the man.
He stood with his back to the door beside the kang, taking off his jacket.
Broad shoulders, narrow waist, the lines of muscle in his back showing through the thin army-green shirt—hard and solid, clearly the result of years of training.
That waistline tapered all the way down to his belt.
Hearing the movement, he turned around.
Mai Sui’s breath caught for a beat.
Only one thought filled her mind: if a face like that stood behind the bar at the restaurant she’d run in her past life, business would jump by thirty percent!
He wouldn’t even need to talk. Just standing there would draw customers.
The only problem was, this man was huge.
She was just over 1.6 meters tall; standing in front of him, she probably wouldn’t even reach his armpit.
That big hand of his could cover her entire face in one palm—he could slap her face around like dribbling a basketball.
Hearing the movement, he turned around.
Their eyes met.
Mai Sui finally saw his face clearly.
Thick brows, deep-set eyes, a high straight nose, a sharp, well-defined jawline.
His lips were neither thin nor thick, pressed into a straight line, the corners slightly downturned, carrying a cold, hard air that warned strangers to keep their distance.
Gu Qingye gave her one glance, then turned back to putting on his clothes.
That glance held no warmth, no emotion.
A man who had just gotten married, without a trace of joy in his eyes—looking at her like she was a complete stranger. No, worse than that. You’d at least glance at a passerby; he looked at her like she was air.
But when he turned, he paused.
Because he noticed that the way this woman looked at him held no warmth either.
No delight, no grievance, no fear.
It wasn’t the forced calm of someone pretending to be composed—it was genuine indifference. And in her eyes there was even a hint of… appraisal?
Was she sizing him up like picking out pork at the market?
He frowned and looked at her again.
This glance lasted one second longer than the last.
Mai Sui understood now.
So it wasn’t just her who was unwilling. This man had been forced into it too.
Fine, that makes things easy. You’re not willing, I’m not willing—we’ll just live together as partners. Saves us from having to put on some act of devoted husband and wife.
Before Mai Sui could say a word to her convenient new husband, her mother-in-law Liu Guifang’s voice came from outside the door, carrying a careful, tentative note: “Eldest, Sui, come out and eat.”
Her tone was so hollow, like she’d done something wrong.
Mai Sui answered and was about to turn around when a voice came from behind her.
“Hold on.”
She looked back.
Gu Qingye had already put on his coat and was standing by the kang, watching her.
There was still no warmth in those eyes, but what he said next made Mai Sui pause.
“We’ll talk about us after dinner.”
Mai Sui raised an eyebrow. “What’s there to talk about between us?”
Gu Qingye looked at her for two seconds and didn’t answer.
He lifted the door curtain and went out ahead of her. As they brushed past each other, a breeze carried a faint scent of soap.
Mai Sui stood where she was, watching the swaying curtain, and suddenly had a bad feeling about this.
This man was harder to handle than she’d thought.
Not the loud, blustering kind of difficult—the quiet kind, the kind who keeps his mouth shut but has his own ideas.
……
Mai Sui’s first meal after marrying into the Gu family tasted sour.
Not the food—the people. The hearts at that table had gone sour.
She’d barely taken a few bites with her chopsticks when she sensed it.
The drama at that table was richer than the dishes.
Wang Cuijuan picked up a piece of scrambled egg with her chopsticks and stuffed it into her own son’s mouth, her eyes rolling between Mai Sui and Gu Qingye as she spoke with a grin: “Big Brother, Big Sister-in-law, you two should eat plenty on your wedding night. Big Sister-in-law looks well, but Big Brother seems a bit tired…”
She let her words trail off deliberately, waiting for someone to take the bait, her expression practically begging to watch a show.
Li Ming’e, meanwhile, slowly picked up a piece of pickled vegetable and added unhurriedly, “What a question, Second Sister-in-law. Big Brother served eight years as a soldier—iron bones and muscles, what could possibly be wrong with him? It’s Big Sister-in-law I worry about. She looks so quiet and delicate, who knows if she can handle life in our family. Ours is no wealthy household.”
One sang while the other harmonized—shamelessly well-coordinated.
Mai Sui didn’t even look up, her chopsticks steadily picking up a piece of pickled cabbage. “You two sure care a lot about your Big Brother. How about after dinner, the two of you have a nice private chat with him?”
The smile on Wang Cuijuan’s face froze instantly.
Li Ming’e’s chopsticks stopped midair, the corner of her mouth twitching.
The table fell silent for a moment.
Just then, Gu Qingye suddenly set down his chopsticks.
The sound was soft—a quiet clack—but the whole table went still.
He didn’t look at Wang Cuijuan, nor at Li Ming’e. He simply laid his chopsticks on the table, picked up his bowl, and went on drinking his porridge, expressionless the entire time, as if nothing had happened.
Wang Cuijuan lowered her head and shoveled rice into her mouth, her eyes no longer darting around—obedient as if she were a different person.
Mai Sui glanced at him from the corner of her eye.
This man was more interesting than she’d thought.
Not a word, not a scolding—just setting down a pair of chopsticks was enough to silence both gossipy sisters-in-law. That presence—no wonder he’d been a soldier.
Gu Qingye also glanced up at Mai Sui, a flicker of surprise passing through his eyes.
This woman had a sharp tongue—she’d shut both of them down with a single line. But his cold expression returned just as quickly, and he went back to his porridge.
Gu Dashan coughed, picked up a steamed bun, and called out flatly, “Eat. Everyone eat.”
He had been honest and mild-mannered his whole life, and nothing scared him more than a fight breaking out at the dinner table—his palms were already sweating.
“Eat, eat. The food won’t taste good once it’s cold.” Liu Guifang hurriedly stepped in to smooth things over, her expression a complicated mix of guilt, remorse, and fear that this meal might go wrong somehow.
She had tricked her eldest son into coming home with a telegram.
The telegram read “Mother gravely ill, return at once,” but the moment Gu Qingye walked through the door and before he’d even set his bags down, he was handed a big red flower—and there stood his mother, perfectly healthy, her face red as a monkey’s backside.
Gu Qingye’s face had darkened on the spot, blacker than the bottom of a pot. He dropped his luggage and turned to leave, and it was only Liu Guifang clinging to him, crying and wailing, sniffling and sobbing, telling him that if he left, her illness would truly become grave, that stopped him.
Anyone would be angry about something like that.
She hadn’t wanted it to be this way.
But the Gu family was poor—too poor to put together a proper bride price to find the eldest a wife.
The man was pushing thirty. Other villagers his age already had kids old enough to run errands to the soy sauce shop, and here he was, still a bachelor in the army.
As it happened, the Mai family was desperate for money to marry off their second daughter, so for a hundred and twenty yuan, they’d promised away the eldest daughter instead. It was a good deal—just not a very decent one.
Liu Guifang knew she’d done wrong by everyone in this matter.
Wronged the eldest son, and wronged the new daughter-in-law too.
The girl had been married off without knowing a thing—she hadn’t even laid eyes on the groom before walking through the door. What kind of arrangement was that?
Gu Qingye sat beside Mai Sui, and from the moment he sat down he hadn’t said a single word, his face completely blank.
He ate fast. In a few quick mouthfuls his bowl of gruel was empty, and he set it on the table and made to stand up.
“Qingye.”
Liu Guifang hurriedly called him back, her voice carrying a note of appeasement. “Your wife’s first day here. Sit with her a while. What kind of groom finishes the first meal with his new bride and just walks off?”
Gu Qingye glanced at his mother. The look in his eyes was neither cold nor warm, but he didn’t argue or make a scene either—it was the kind of look that said, I haven’t forgiven you for tricking me home, but I’ll give you this much face.
In the end he didn’t leave. He picked up his bowl again, poured himself some water, and drank it slowly.
Liu Guifang breathed a sigh of relief and turned to Mai Sui. “Sui’er, eat up. Look how thin you are—a gust of wind could blow you away.”
“Thanks, Mom. I can serve myself.” Mai Sui called her “Mom” naturally and without a trace of awkwardness.
“Ah.” Liu Guifang nodded happily, again and again.
Halfway through the meal, a loud voice rang out from the courtyard gate, so full of vigor it sent the barred rock hen in the yard flapping away in a panic. “Guifang! You home?”
Liu Guifang’s hand jerked, her chopsticks nearly clattering onto the table, and her face changed in a flash.
Mai Sui noticed it wasn’t just Liu Guifang—Wang Cuijuan’s chopsticks had stopped too, and the corner of Li Ming’e’s mouth twitched upward ever so slightly before pressing flat again.
The person outside had already pushed open the gate and come in, big feet thudding loudly with every step. “Where is everyone? All inside? I heard Qingye’s wife has arrived, so I came to have a look! Let me see what the eldest grandson’s wife of our old Gu family looks like!”
The barred rock hen, terrified by the newcomer, flew up onto the wall of the courtyard, feathers puffed out, clucking furiously at the gate.
“Cluck! This Two-legged Beast is so loud! Louder than a braying donkey! You scared off all my worms!”