He instinctively wanted to cover his waistband again, his hand lifting halfway before he forcefully stopped himself, clenching it into a tight fist instead.
“But,” Lin Wanxing took a step closer. The distance between them instantly shrank. She could smell the faint scent of soap beans and sweat on him, mixed with the dry aroma of wheat straw.
“You can’t keep avoiding me and sleeping on the floor because of this. We’re going to spend a lifetime together.”
A lifetime.
These three words fell into Gu Jianfeng’s heart like a burning coal.
He looked up at Lin Wanxing.
In the faint dawn light, she stood before him, only reaching his chest in height—so slender, so fragile, as if a gust of wind could blow her over.
Yet the look in her eyes was so firm, so clear, like the purest spring water from a mountain stream.
“I…” Gu Jianfeng’s throat felt dry, “I… I’ll think of a way… I’ll ask… ask the medic, or… or look in medical books… There… there must be a way…”
He spoke incoherently.
Lin Wanxing’s heart softened.
She knew that in this era, in this secluded countryside, asking such an unspeakable question would be harder for him than climbing to the sky.
But he was willing to try for her.
That was enough.
“Alright,” she nodded, not pressing him further, “then you take your time thinking of a way. But—”
She pointed at the neatly arranged bedding on the floor: “This, put it away. Starting tonight, you sleep on the kang.”
Gu Jianfeng still wanted to say something.
But Lin Wanxing had already turned around. She picked up the new cloth shoes by the kang and put them on, then casually gathered her jet-black hair behind her head, tying it loosely into a low ponytail with a red hair tie.
“It’s almost dawn,” she said as she walked out, “time to get up and make breakfast. A new bride can’t sleep in on the first day.”
Gu Jianfeng stared at her efficient retreating back, stunned for a moment, then hurried to catch up: “You… you sleep a bit longer… I’ll make breakfast…”
“You can cook?” Lin Wanxing turned back, raising an eyebrow at him.
Gu Jianfeng nodded. “Since I came to the Gu family at eight, I’ve always been the one lighting the fire and cooking. You don’t need to do anything. Just watch.”
He could handle it all by himself, with plenty to spare.
…
The Gu family’s kitchen was a low earthen hut, nestled against the western wall of the main house.
The roof was covered with black tiles, some already cracked, patched haphazardly with thatch.
The stove was made of tamped yellow mud, its surface blackened and shiny from smoke. Two large iron woks were set into the stove holes, their lids heavy wooden rounds, the edges worn smooth.
Beside the stove was a pile of firewood—mainly dried corn stalks and branches. In the corner, a stack of coal lumps.
This was considered top-quality fuel in the countryside; ordinary families couldn’t afford to use it often.
When Lin Wanxing entered the kitchen, Gu’s mother was already up.
She was squatting in front of the stove, using fire tongs to poke at the coal lumps in the fire chamber, trying to rekindle the fire that had been banked last night.
Hearing footsteps, Gu’s mother turned her head.
Seeing it was Lin Wanxing, her face showed no expression. She just flicked her eyelids and turned back to tending the fire.
But when she saw Gu Jianfeng following behind Lin Wanxing, Gu’s mother’s brow furrowed.
“Jianfeng, why are you up so early?” Gu’s mother’s voice was hoarse, carrying the weariness of just waking up. “Go back to bed. The new bride’s first meal has to be made by herself. That’s the rule.”
Gu Jianfeng stopped at the kitchen door.
He glanced at Lin Wanxing, then looked at Gu’s mother. His lips pressed together before he said in a low voice: “Mom, Wanxing was tired all day yesterday. I… I’ll help her tend the fire.”
“What fire?” Gu’s mother said irritably. “It’s not like she can’t do it. Which wife in our Hongxing Brigade hasn’t gone through this? Your Aunt Zhang’s daughter-in-law next door—the day after she entered the household, she got up before dawn, cooked for the whole big family, and even carried two loads of water from the well.”
As she spoke, she shot another glance at Lin Wanxing: “What, is your wife too delicate? Can’t do these things? She still has to fulfill filial duties to us for your elder brother.”
Her words were loaded with barbs.
Lin Wanxing sneered inwardly.
Gu’s mother simply wanted to establish rules for Lin Wanxing now, to let her know that in the Gu family, a wife should toil like an ox.
If it were the original host—that domesticated old workhorse—she would probably already be kneeling in terror, apologizing profusely and scrambling to do the work.
Unfortunately, the one standing here now was Lin Wanxing.
Her face showed no expression. She simply walked calmly to the stove and looked into the wok.
Inside was leftover stewed pork with cabbage and glass noodles from last night’s wedding feast, now solidified, the oily surface congealed into a white layer of grease.
“Mom is right,” Lin Wanxing spoke, her voice compliant yet carrying an unyielding calmness, “a new bride should be diligent. Jianfeng, go rest. I’ll make breakfast.”
What we eat, though—that’s up to me now!
As she spoke, she had already rolled up her sleeves, revealing two slender, fair forearms.
Then, she picked up the gourd dipper by the stove, scooping water from the water vat.
Her movements were skilled, clean, and efficient.
Watching her composed and unruffled demeanor, Gu’s mother was momentarily stunned, unsure what to say.
Gu Jianfeng, however, remained standing in place, unmoving.
He looked at Lin Wanxing’s slender back, watching her rise on her toes to reach for the bamboo basket hanging on the wall.
The basket was hung a bit high. On tiptoe, stretching her arm, her sleeve slipped down, revealing a section of dazzlingly white wrist.
Gu Jianfeng’s Adam’s apple bobbed. He strode over, reached out, and effortlessly took down the basket, handing it to her.
“I’ll do it. Don’t trouble yourself, Wanxing.” His tone brooked no argument.
He turned back, frowning, and said: “Mom, you’re being too harsh. The fact that Wanxing was willing to marry into our family means we owe her. We should be grateful! She didn’t come to fulfill filial duties for Elder Brother. She came out of affection; she’s a benefactor to our Gu family!”
“You!”
Gu’s mother wanted to say more, but now Gu Jianfeng’s words had become unexpectedly firm.
When she was a young bride, hadn’t she been ordered around too?! Why did Lin Wanxing get a man to help her?
Just thinking of her own experiences when young and looking at Gu Jianfeng’s muscular frame, clearly capable of hard labor, made her almost explode with anger.
Then, ignoring Gu’s mother’s instantly ugly expression, he squatted down by the fire chamber on his own, took the fire tongs from her hands, and began seriously spreading the half-burnt coal lumps, adding new firewood.
The flames in the fire chamber “whooshed” up. Orange-red firelight shone on his sharply defined profile, casting a warm halo over his bronze skin.
Gu’s mother was so angry she wanted to throw something. But at a glance, she couldn’t bear to waste anything. She could only grit her teeth, turn, and stride out.
Only Lin Wanxing and Gu Jianfeng remained in the kitchen.
The water in the wok boiled, making gurgling sounds. White steam rose, blurring their vision.
Lin Wanxing slowly poured cornmeal into the rolling water, stirring continuously with a wooden ladle in her other hand to prevent lumps.
Gu Jianfeng squatted before the fire chamber, intently watching the flames, adding a stick of firewood from time to time.
Neither spoke.
Only the crackle of burning wood and the gurgle of the boiling porridge echoed in the quiet morning kitchen.
After a while, Gu Jianfeng suddenly spoke softly: “I don’t know what’s gotten into Mom lately, getting more and more unreasonable. Don’t worry, I’ll talk to her. Besides, we won’t be staying at home for much longer anyway.”
Lin Wanxing’s stirring hand paused.
She turned her head to look at the man squatting by the fire.
He had his head lowered. The firelight illuminated his tightly pressed lips and straight nose bridge; the lines of his profile were resolute and silent.
“I know,” Lin Wanxing said softly. “I didn’t take it to heart.”
Gu Jianfeng looked up, glancing at her.
The firelight danced in his dark eyes. His gaze held guilt, unease, and deep pity and responsibility.
“Wanxing,” his voice grew even lower, “don’t worry. As long as I’m here, I won’t let you be wronged.”
He said these words slowly, yet with utmost sincerity.
Lin Wanxing lowered her lashes, continuing to stir the porridge in the wok, and softly hummed an acknowledgment.
But the corners of her mouth curved up.
Don’t worry. Who knows who’ll be the one dealing with whom.
The aroma of porridge gradually spread, mixing with the smoky scent of burning firewood and the morning smells of earth and dew, composing the most ordinary, yet most authentic, morning fragrance of a 1970s countryside.
…
Breakfast was served.
Gu’s father came out of the main room yawning. He squatted in the yard, splashed his face with cold water from a wooden basin, then squatted by the threshold and began rolling his pipe tobacco.
Gu Xiuxiu was also up.
She wore a semi-new floral print blouse, her hair braided into two pigtails tied at the ends with red plastic threads, swinging as she walked.
Seeing Lin Wanxing come out of the kitchen carrying porridge, Gu Xiuxiu curled her lip, said nothing, and sat down by the low table in the yard on her own.
Gu’s mother came out last, her face dark.
She glanced at the food laid out on the table, and suddenly, her expression changed drastically!
“Why did you make all this?!” Her heart ached so much her voice nearly cracked. She hurried to the table, staring in disbelief at the large spread!
Eggs! Several golden-yellow eggs! Who knows how many she used!
Fried mantou slices! Rice cakes! And she even cooked a bowl of plain white noodles!
How much oil, how much rice and flour did she use?!
This was more than they’d eat in several months!
Gu’s mother’s face twitched, her vision going dark for a moment.
Suddenly, a terrible thought struck her—could it be that Lin Wanxing had made all these dishes to win them over?!
She glanced at Lin Wanxing standing at the kitchen door, wiping her hands with a towel, and her expression turned even uglier.
Gu Jianfeng was already walking over with the last dish. Hearing this, he frowned: “Mom, this is fine. Wanxing has been busy all morning. Don’t find fault.”
Back in the day at home, Gu’s mother could criticize him ten thousand times, and he’d endure it without taking it to heart.
But hearing a single complaint against Lin Wanxing, he absolutely had to stand up for her.
“I’m finding fault?” Gu’s mother’s voice rose several pitches. “Look how extravagantly she’s spending! One breakfast—does she still want to eat dragon meat or something?!”
That was harsh.
Lin Wanxing stood in place, her expression unchanged, just looking at Gu’s mother with hurt eyes.
“Mom… didn’t you say I came to the Gu family to fulfill filial duties? Since Jianbin is gone, I should treat you both well…”
Gu’s mother was so angry she nearly fainted.
Is this how you’re supposed to treat us well?!
Of course, there were eggs at home.
The few old hens in the chicken coop laid three or four eggs every day. She’d been saving them, planning to exchange them at the supply and marketing cooperative for salt and sewing supplies.
But to take them out now for breakfast? And eat so many in one meal?! She couldn’t bear it!
“The eggs at home are meant for—”
“Then stop talking nonsense.” Gu’s father had had enough. He cared about face; if people heard all this shouting, how could he hold his head up?
He shot a glare at Gu’s mother, feeling this woman was muttering and causing a scene early in the morning, utterly embarrassing.
Impatiently, he walked over, his tone forceful: “Wanxing is being filial. It’s already done, so let’s eat!”
As he spoke, he pulled out a stool, gesturing for everyone to sit.
Lin Wanxing immediately handed the white noodles to him.
“Jianfeng, you’re the pillar of the family. You eat this.”
Gu Jianfeng picked up the bowl but immediately divided more than half into Lin Wanxing’s bowl, keeping only a little for himself. Then he picked up a few more dishes—fried mantou slices, rice cakes, eggs—all putting them into Lin Wanxing’s bowl.
“You eat more.”
“No, no, Jianfeng, you work hard, you eat!”
Back and forth they went with their chopsticks. Before the three other Gu family members could react, the dishes were gone! And the noodles weren’t for them either!
Gu’s mother was so angry her waist hurt!
Gu Xiuxiu watched from the side, growing angrier by the minute, her heart even more sour.
Her second brother—usually quiet, aloof to everyone—why was he so attentive to this Lin Wanxing?
Was it just because she was a bit prettier?
Seductress!
Gu Xiuxiu cursed inwardly, but didn’t dare say it out loud. She could only bite fiercely into a pickled vegetable lump as if it were Lin Wanxing’s flesh.
Breakfast ended hastily in this bizarre atmosphere.
After the meal, Gu Jianfeng took the initiative to clear the dishes and wash them.
Lin Wanxing wanted to help, but he stopped her: “You rest. I’ll definitely handle these chores.”
He said it as a matter of course, as if taking care of her was the most natural thing in the world.
Gu’s mother watched from the side, her face turning even darker.
She held back and held back, but finally couldn’t resist speaking sarcastically: “Well, our Jianfeng certainly dotes on his wife. Never saw him being so considerate to his own parents.”
Gu Jianfeng’s hand washing the dishes paused.
His back was to Gu’s mother, his broad shoulders tensing slightly.
A few seconds later, he spoke: “Mom, Wanxing is my wife, and also Elder Brother’s widow. It’s only right that I treat her well. Back at home before, I did plenty of work too.”
This was true.
Gu Jianfeng had grown up in the Gu family since childhood. Though adopted, the Gu family never treated him like a young master.
On the contrary, starting from age eight, he had to get up early every morning to fetch washing water for Gu’s father and mother, then help light the fire in the kitchen. After meals, he washed dishes, swept floors, fed the chickens.
As he grew older, farm work also fell to him.
Gu Jianbin, the biological son, could slack off, sleep in, go out to play.
But Gu Jianfeng couldn’t.
He had to toil silently like an old ox. The slightest slacking would earn him curses from Gu’s mother—“ungrateful wretch,” “forgetting kindness.”
Later, when he joined the army, his allowance was meager in the first few years. He saved every bit, sending it all back to the Gu family.
The Gu family’s house repairs, Gu Jianbin’s schemes to join the army, Gu Xiuxiu’s schooling—all were funded with his money.
But what about the Gu family?