Chen Zhuo took a big bite of the muskmelon—fragrant and sweet! It was the best fruit he had ever tasted, bar none.
Even more miraculous, after finishing one muskmelon, the pain throughout his body lessened considerably, as if by magic.
In the past, whenever he missed taking his Chinese medicine on time, pain of this level would persist until the next scheduled dose before easing.
He had originally timed his return to Huacheng to coincide with his medication time, but fate had other plans—the tire blew out.
Fang Ruo was also nibbling on a muskmelon. She finished the whole large one, just in time to get back in the car.
No sooner had she sat down than Chen Zhuo took the initiative to speak to her. “Thank you.”
Fang Ruo gave a faint smile. “You’re welcome.”
“Excuse me, do you have any more muskmelons? I’d like to trade for a few.”
As he spoke, Chen Zhuo’s eyes casually swept over the canvas bag resting on Fang Ruo’s lap—it was bulging, clearly holding several more.
He was so blatant about it that Fang Ruo couldn’t very well say she had none. “What would you trade with?”
With a click, Chen Zhuo unfastened his wristwatch. “Would this do?”
Fang Ruo took it and looked at it, blurting out, “Rolex Oyster Perpetual in white gold…”
She quickly stopped herself.
Steady, steady—who says a country girl can’t know her stuff?
For the first time, an expression other than coldness and pain appeared on Chen Zhuo’s face.
“You know watches?”
“I don’t, really. I just happened to see one and heard about it once. It felt a bit familiar—don’t mind me if I got it wrong.”
“It is. It launched in Hong Kong a month ago; it’s not even on the shelves at domestic counters yet.”
“Is that so? What a coincidence.”
Fang Ruo carefully placed the watch back in Chen Zhuo’s hand, looking as if she was terrified of breaking it and being unable to afford the damages.
No matter how convincingly she pretended now, in Chen Zhuo’s eyes it no longer rang true—not after what she’d blurted out just now.
But Chen Zhuo didn’t call her out on it.
“So, would you be willing to trade?”
“It’s just something grown in my own fields—worthless, really. Consider it a gift.”
Actually, Fang Ruo wanted to say he might as well just give her some money—she wouldn’t refuse cash, and it wasn’t like she’d be out hawking goods on the street. That watch, though, a limited edition—better to let it go.
Fang Ruo handed him all five remaining muskmelons from her canvas bag. As for the watch, that wouldn’t be appropriate. She couldn’t openly sell things yet, but an equal exchange wouldn’t violate the rules.
But that was still predicated on equivalence—the values couldn’t be too far apart. A few melons for someone’s Rolex white gold watch?
Just… absurd.
Chen Zhuo didn’t press the matter. He put the watch back on. “Thank you! May I ask your name, miss? And where do you live?”
“Fang Ruo, from Ping’an Village.”
Chen Zhuo nodded, said a single “Good,” and fell silent.
Fang Ruo dozed for the better part of half an hour until the train pulled into the station, and the conductor bellowed: “Arriving now! Everyone, make sure you grab your luggage and belongings before getting off…”
Fang Ruo got off carrying her now-empty canvas bag.
Chen Zhuo handed the five muskmelons he was holding to the two attendants following behind him.
The provincial capital was bustling as always—whether decades ago or decades later, the station was always crowded with people coming and going.
Before she’d walked more than a few steps, the two fellow passengers had already lost sight of each other in the crowd.
While Fang Ruo was checking the bus signs at the station’s bus stop, one of Chen Zhuo’s attendants came over, pressed a stack of ten-yuan bills into her hand, gave a slight nod, and quietly walked away.
What an odd way of doing things—hadn’t the man had money on the train?
Well, whatever. The muskmelons had done him some good, after all—she could tell from his reaction after eating that the pain was gone. She felt perfectly at ease taking his money.
A crisp stack of ten-yuan bills, maybe thirty notes by the feel of it. Fang Ruo tucked the three hundred yuan into her canvas bag, deciding to keep it at the bottom as pocket money, not putting it in the Spatial Dimension.
But as her hand brushed the bottom of the bag, her fingers touched a watch.
It was that white gold watch.
When had he slipped it in? And if he was giving her the watch anyway, why still give the money?
No way to know.
For things she couldn’t figure out, Fang Ruo had a habit of setting them aside for now. She checked the bus route and boarded, heading for Huimin Street in Dongshan District.
Number One Huimin Street was a Western-style house with a large garden, taking up a third of the entire street.
Looking at the two characters “Chen Yuan” on the gate—Chen Yuan? It sounded familiar. She needed to think.
Fang Ruo first tousled her hair a few more times to mess it up, then retrieved the thousand yuan she’d returned to someone from the Spatial Dimension and put it back in her canvas bag. Once everything was ready, she took a deep breath, worked up her emotions, and pressed the doorbell on the ornate iron gate.
“Who are you looking for?”
It was a middle-aged housemaid who came to open the door. She looked Fang Ruo up and down for a long while but didn’t kick her out like a beggar.
“I’m looking for Chen Zhuo. Is Chen Zhuo home? Tell Chen Zhuo to get his ass out here!”
“No shouting! Leave now!”
The housemaid’s face darkened instantly. Chen Zhuo had just returned and taken his medicine—if someone caused a racket now, she’d lose her job. Whether she knew the visitor or not, she wasn’t letting her through the door.
Fang Ruo wasn’t leaving. Before the housemaid could shut the gate, she slipped past her in one quick move and made it into the garden.
“Hehe, haha, Chen Zhuo, Chen Zhuo, come out here, Chen Zhuo…”
“Who’s making all that racket? Show them out at once!” The voice was aged, carrying an unmistakable authority.
The housemaid caught up to Fang Ruo, grabbed her, and started dragging her out.
“Please, just go, hurry. The old master can’t take any more upset.”
It took so long to get here—how could I leave so easily?
Make a fuss? Fuss away. There’s nothing a fool wouldn’t do.
Of course, I could also sit down calmly and talk about divorce with this family, but would that be the act of a fool? Can’t break the fool persona, right?
“Tell Chen Zhuo to come out! If he doesn’t come out, I’m not leaving. Not leaving, not leaving, not leaving!”
Noticing the floor was cleaner than the clothes on her back, Fang Ruo plopped herself down on the ground and threw a tantrum.
She looked just like a child demanding candy.
The nanny, realizing she was dealing with a fool, had no choice but to run inside to call someone.
A moment later, an old man stormed out, hands clasped behind his back, looking furious.
“Who are you? What do you want with Chen Zhuo?”
“Old man, who are you?”
Fang Ruo, still sitting on the ground, tilted her head up and blinked her eyes innocently. Just as the old man was about to lose it, she giggled. “Are you Chen Zhuo?”
Fang Ruo naturally knew he wasn’t—on the marriage certificate, Chen Zhuo was 24.
“I’m Chen Zhuo’s grandfather!”
“Grandpa, oh Grandpa, hello Grandpa.”
Fang Ruo sprang up from the ground and reached out to tug at the short beard the old man had just grown long enough to grab.
“Nonsense!” The old man shoved Fang Ruo aside with one hand. Where did this silly girl come from?
But since she was shouting and demanding to see Chen Zhuo, Old Master Chen had to get to the bottom of it. “What do you want with Chen Zhuo?”
Fang Ruo slapped her forehead, as if suddenly enlightened, and pulled out a household register, a marriage certificate, and most importantly, a stamped statement from Captain Liang from her canvas bag. The document detailed everything from start to finish, so she didn’t need to explain much.
“The captain said you’d understand once you read it yourselves.”
Chen Yujing glanced at the statement from Captain Liang, then at the fool. So that’s how it was. His brow furrowed deeper and deeper. “This marriage—no divorce!”
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