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Making Money Brings Peace of Mind: The Third Watch
Chapter 3: Earning Money Brings Peace of Mind: Third Watch
Wang Xiao was dragged along for half a street in one breath, nearly suffocating.
She couldn’t take it anymore. She reached out to grab Wang’s Father. If they kept running like this, she wouldn’t need to wait for some scumbag to ruin her—she’d collapse from exhaustion on this escape-from-marriage journey herself.
A horn sounded from the roadside. A man in his thirties leaned out from the truck driver’s seat, looking at the father and daughter with confusion: “Brother-in-law, what’s going on? …Xiaoxiao?”
Old Wang was overjoyed at the sight of the newcomer and immediately pushed his daughter toward the vehicle: “Yidong, you came at the perfect time. Quick, take Xiaoxiao to your place. Xiaoxiao isn’t getting married anymore. Keep a close eye on her and make sure she doesn’t run off. Xiaoxiao, listen to your uncle and aunt, understand?”
Only then did Wang Xiao process what was happening.
The old Wang couple were clearly afraid that the moment their daughter saw Ruan Rui’s face, all her rationality would fly off to Java, and she’d become desperate to marry him and become a stepmother.
Ugh, what sins had the original host committed to drive her own parents to such extremes?
Wang Xiao smiled wryly and nodded in agreement: “Dad, don’t worry, I won’t run off.”
Run? Where could she possibly go? She was unfamiliar with this world and its people. Having inherited the original host’s identity, what trouble could she stir up? She had no choice but to obediently follow her uncle.
She cut to the chase: “Whatever you do, don’t let Ruan Rui and Zhang Yan get their hands on that letter. If there’s any dispute later, it’ll serve as evidence.”
Wang Tiejun hurriedly waved his hand: “I know, I know. You go back with your uncle.”
Chen Yidong restarted the engine and stole a glance at his niece, cautiously asking: “Xiaoxiao, have you really thought it through?”
She was a grown woman—he couldn’t exactly tie her up. If she still had feelings for that man, she could easily take a bus to town and run off.
Wang Xiao nodded firmly without hesitation: “Of course. I’m still so young—I’m just a kid myself. How could I be a mother to another child?”
Truthfully, 21 wasn’t that young. Nowadays, many people her age, whether in rural or urban areas, had already had children.
But in the eyes of elders, especially those who’d watched her grow up, their own child would always be a child. At 21, she was still a young girl—what business did she have getting married and having kids!
Chen Yidong wholeheartedly agreed with his niece and nodded vigorously: “Right, that’s exactly it. Our family’s precious daughter is more than worthy of princes and generals—why rush into marriage?”
Relaxed now, he felt curious enough to probe further: “What made you suddenly see the light?”
Wang Xiao replied without thinking: “It was like a sudden epiphany. I overheard him on the phone saying he still misses his ex-wife. The only reason he’s remarrying is because he needs someone to help take care of his daughter.”
This wasn’t something Wang Xiao made up—in the novel, the original host had indeed heard the man say those very words.
Any sensible person would have turned and walked away in such a situation. But her? The original host had been heartbroken, yet somehow resolved to move the man with her sincerity.
Tsk tsk. It really reminded her of what Yang Li once said: Some girls don’t date for happiness—they do it for the thrill. They’re determined to taste every hardship in love that they’ve never experienced before.
Chen Yidong wished he could turn the truck around right then and punch that bastard to death. To hell with his ancestors eighteen generations back! The Chen family’s daughters were treasures—how dare someone treat them as free nannies?
Wang Xiao thought to herself: Isn’t that true? Your actual niece had willingly served as a nanny for over twenty years. Not only unpaid, but she even paid for the privilege—Wang Baochuan would have knelt and called her boss.
She continued, “Suddenly I found it all so meaningless. I wasn’t even sad, just felt like, oh, I see now. I kept feeling like someone had put a curse on me before, which is why I was so muddle-headed.”
In 1990, Hong Kong movie videotapes were extremely popular in mainland China. So Chen Yidong also understood what a curse meant.
He nodded vigorously, fully agreeing with his niece’s perspective: “Your uncle also thought you seemed bewitched. You’ve always been such a well-behaved and sensible girl—when have you ever been so confused before?”
Wang Xiao smiled bitterly inwardly. She suspected the original host had been too obedient and sensible, causing her rebellious phase to arrive late, all channeled into her marriage.
The more her parents opposed it, the more she insisted, trying to prove her independence. By the time she truly came to her senses, she had invested too much, the sunk costs were too high, so she could only stubbornly continue down this path.
Tsk, discarding self-respect when she should have stood her ground, clinging to pride when she should have let go—if such a life isn’t tragic, it defies all logic.
Thinking this, Wang Xiao earnestly emphasized to Chen Yidong: “Uncle, I’ve sobered up now. I definitely won’t pay any more attention to that despicable scoundrel, so you can rest assured.”
Chen Yidong showed a relieved smile, repeatedly saying “good,” and comforted his niece: “Who hasn’t been led astray by ghosts sometimes? What matters is coming to your senses.”
The vehicle drove onward, leaving the provincial capital for the suburbs. Golden rice fields stretched along both sides of the road, and in the distance, the scent of rice seemed to waft toward them—a truly heartwarming sight.
After passing through this vast expanse of rice fields and reaching the main road, the scenery changed to two- or three-story buildings on both sides. Ah, this was the county town.
When the buildings gave way to golden rice fields again, they finally reached their destination. The vehicle drove directly through the gates of Zhouzhen Chemical Factory.
Chen Yidong was an educated youth sent to the countryside. During the massive return of educated youth to cities in 1978, he had already started a family with his wife pregnant and about to give birth. While others left, he stayed to continue his life.
Zhouzhen was a township under the jurisdiction of the city neighboring Jinning, relatively economically developed and one of the earliest areas where township enterprises emerged. Currently, the town had about twenty factories of various sizes, not counting the small processing plants in the surrounding villages.
With more factories came more workers. The daily routine in Zhouzhen involved returning home for farming during busy seasons and working in factories during slack periods—balancing industrial and agricultural production seamlessly.
Chen Yidong embodied this dual role.
He served as the head of the sales department at the chemical factory. This trip to the city was for business negotiations. After returning the truck to the factory, he informed his supervisor and directly rode his bicycle home with his niece.
It was currently autumn harvest season. Although the rice from his family’s fields had been collected, he and his wife needed to return labor to others’ fields.
This “labor return” was a new form of mutual assistance in rural agricultural production after the dissolution of production teams. Usually, farmers tended their own land, but during critical harvesting and planting periods, households with close relationships formed mutual aid groups, pooling efforts to handle major tasks and taking turns working in each other’s fields.
Chen Yidong instructed his niece, “You stay home and don’t worry about outside matters. With your father, mother, and uncle here, no one will ever bully you.”
Watching her uncle’s slightly hunched back, Wang Xiao felt a surge of emotion. The original host truly didn’t know what was good for her—to encounter such wonderful family and relatives was a blessing accumulated over eight lifetimes, yet she failed to cherish it.
Unlike her, who before transmigrating into this book, had only her grandmother who truly cared about her, while the rest of her immediate relatives seemed to exist solely to make her experience what it meant to endure tribulations.
Chen Yidong continued educating his niece: “You’ve just graduated from university and are still young. There’s no need to rush into considering personal matters. You should focus on building your career.”
Wang Xiao immediately felt the joy of meeting a kindred spirit.
Listen to this—who says people in the 20th century had outdated ideas?
Before transmigrating into this book, she was still in university. Even though she already had her own online store business, her elders kept hinting that girls shouldn’t pursue graduate studies after graduation but should quickly get married and have children.
Her cousin was pursuing a Ph.D. at a top 985 university, yet some people gossiped that girls shouldn’t study so much, or they’d miss the optimal childbearing age for having three children.
As if a woman’s only value lay in her uterus.
Now she had transmigrated to 1990, and her uncle was telling her that regardless of gender, having one’s own career was what truly mattered.
Wang Xiao immediately agreed: “Yes, Uncle, that’s exactly what I think too. I want to focus on building my career.”
The original host worked as a researcher at a chemical institute, engaged in scientific research. Wang Xiao had little interest in laboratories—she wasn’t cut out to be a scientist. While scientists remained dedicated despite modest means, her eyes were only on making money.
The Zhou Town streets her uncle was cycling her through consisted of just three roads combined, each lined with stalls on both sides selling everything from fruits and toys to various small commodities, all commonplace.
On the road, young men wearing bell-bottom pants with shoulder-length hair walked while shaking their heads to music from cassette players: “We Asia, where people are the most hardworking; we Asia, where athletes are even more dashing…”
Bystanders mocked him: “The Asian Games are over, why are you still playing ‘Asian Might’?”
The young man didn’t argue but simply pressed the cassette player twice, and from the rectangular device flowed Luo Dayou’s voice: “Your dark, glistening eyes and smiling face, how hard it is to forget the changes in your countenance…”
This made Wang Xiao chuckle—numerous street stalls meant high customer flow, and no one would foolishly engage in unprofitable business.
She contemplated whether she should also set up a stall in town.
They said the 1980s and 1990s were eras of dramatic social stratification—as long as one was willing to work hard, endure hardship, and find the right positioning, no small business would fail to make money.
Although her business before transmigrating was primarily online sales, during the COVID-19 pandemic, she had driven out with friends to set up street stalls—cough, mainly for live-streaming to attract traffic, but it still counted as accumulated experience. There was no reason she couldn’t run a business now that she was truly in 1990.
Unfortunately, Chen Yidong was in a hurry to return home for his shift change and pedaled so fast that he didn’t give Wang Xiao a chance to clearly observe each stall’s sales situation.
Qian Family Village connected to Zhou Town’s market. After cycling less than ten minutes further, they stopped at the entrance of a small farmhouse courtyard.
Chen Yidong’s family was well-off, with a two-and-a-half-story house enclosed by a small courtyard. The first floor served as the kitchen, living room, and bathroom, the second floor as bedrooms, and the third floor was used for storing miscellaneous items and grains. It was currently harvest season, and the freshly threshed rice was spread out on the concrete yard to dry, gleaming golden and creating a festive atmosphere.
He entered the yard and saw his daughter doing homework at the entrance of the main room. He called out, “Jingjing, don’t go out to play today. Spend more time with your cousin.”
Chen Jingjing, 12 years old, looked up and was shocked to see Wang Xiao. “Sis, weren’t you getting married today? How come…?”
Chen Yidong picked up a sickle stored under the corridor and cut her off. “Your cousin isn’t getting married anymore. Don’t bring it up again.”
Chen Jingjing stuck out her tongue, not daring to provoke her father’s temper. The family had all disapproved of her cousin’s marriage. Her usually capable and strong-willed aunt had even cried in front of her mother. Her mom said it was the first time she’d ever seen her aunt-in-law shed tears.
Yesterday, when her father went on a business trip to the city, she had wanted to tag along and attend the wedding. After all, school was on break for the farming season. But her father had scowled and told her to stay home and not stir up trouble.
Now, with her father’s figure disappearing beyond the courtyard gate, Chen Jingjing finally dared to ask her cousin, “Sis, what really happened? Did Dad drag you back?”
Wang Xiao couldn’t help but feel like rubbing her nose. It seemed the original host had been utterly deluded—even a middle school girl found it hard to believe she’d had a sudden change of heart.
She cleared her throat and repeated the curse explanation, emphasizing it seriously, “Anyway, when I woke up, I realized how absurd everything before had been. I can’t keep making mistakes. I have to turn back before it’s too late.”
Chen Jingjing nodded, acting like a little adult and speaking earnestly, “Sis, don’t be foolish again. I always thought it was strange. Who in their right mind would rush to be a stepmother? I’ve heard that those eager to take on such roles are either foolish or wicked.”
Wang Xiao was taken aback, feeling the girl truly lived up to her name—she was practically a prodigy. At such a young age, she could speak so insightfully.
In her own circle’s terms, marrying an older man to become a stepmother while young wasn’t entirely out of the question, but at the very least, one should secure a Beijing courtyard house like Wendi Deng before tying the knot to achieve a class leap.
Otherwise, rushing to offer charity? Ha! All one-sided self-sacrificing behaviors in humanity are degrading, whether it’s being a “brother-supporter” or a “love-struck fool.”
Stay far away and don’t ruin normal people’s lives.
She nodded in agreement with her cousin’s words. “That’s exactly what I thought when I came to my senses. I won’t have anything to do with that person anymore. By the way, you should remember this too—never be foolish. As the saying goes, ‘When a man is infatuated, he may yet free himself; when a maiden is infatuated, she cannot free herself.'”
Huh?
Chen Jingjing was only in eighth grade and hadn’t studied such complex classical texts. But she grasped her cousin’s meaning and denied it outright, “I’m not into early romance! I’m going to college! My mom says once I’m in college, I’ll have plenty of options. Why would I settle for a frog in a pond when I could aim higher?”
Wang Xiao was amused by her little cousin’s words. Laughing, she stressed, “Even if you go to college, there’s no guarantee you’ll only meet good people. You know, there are plenty of clever villains out there too.”
Take the original owner’s mud-pit partner, for example—a genuine graduate of a prestigious university, and even rarer for this era, a postgraduate student. Unfortunately, while academic credentials might filter out academic slackers, they can never screen out scumbags.