Late at night, the military compound outside the window had quieted down. Only the occasional footsteps of patrolling soldiers and distant barking dogs could be heard.
The room next door, Qi Weiguo’s little world, was completely silent.
Lin Fen had also locked herself in her room, probably still furious over losing face during the day.
At this moment, it felt as though she was the only awake person in the entire household.
Li Zhihuan sat at the table, carefully spreading out the money and ration coupons beneath the lamp.
One large unity note, one-yuan bills, fifty-cent bills, ten-cent bills… along with grain coupons, cloth coupons, and oil coupons.
She wet her fingers with a bit of saliva and counted everything over and over again, swiftly and skillfully.
That’s right. Not a single cent missing.
In her previous life, whenever she dealt with the finance department at work and checked reimbursement accounts, she had looked exactly like this.
Every cent had to be crystal clear.
This was not just money.
It was her capital for surviving in this unfamiliar era—the material foundation of her “salted fish” lifestyle.
But money alone was not enough. She also needed institutional protection.
Li Zhihuan’s corporate slave DNA activated instantly.
Verbal agreements were the most unreliable things in the world, especially when the other party’s emotions were unstable and there was a troublemaking mother-in-law involved.
Today, Qi Weiguo could hand over the money willingly. Tomorrow, if he listened to Lin Fen’s nagging or regretted it himself, he could take it back at any moment.
Li Zhihuan would never place her fate in someone else’s emotional hands.
It had to be written down in black and white with a signed agreement!
The thought immediately energized her.
She rummaged through the old desk drawer that belonged to the original owner of this body.
Soon, she found a stack of slightly yellowed letter paper and a fountain pen whose nib was nearly worn bald.
When she unscrewed the ink bottle, the pungent smell of cheap ink rose into the air.
Yet Li Zhihuan found the scent strangely comforting. It reminded her of the feeling before launching a project—like signing a military pledge of commitment.
She spread out the paper, and without the slightest hesitation, lowered her pen.
After a brief thought, she neatly wrote the title:
“Temporary Agreement Regarding Household Cooperation and Division of Responsibilities Between Comrade Qi Weiguo and Comrade Li Zhihuan”
After writing the title, she almost laughed out loud herself.
Too professional.
If people from this era saw it, they would probably think it was some kind of confidential document.
Then she began writing furiously, recording not only the verbal agreements she and Qi Weiguo had made that afternoon, but also every additional clause that came to mind.
“Party A: Qi Weiguo (sole economic contributor to the household)”
“Party B: Li Zhihuan (sole manager of internal household affairs)”
“To clarify the rights and obligations of both parties within family life, and based on the principles of friendly cooperation and non-interference, the following agreement has been reached through mutual consultation:”
“Clause One: Comrade Qi Weiguo, Party A, must hand over the entirety of his monthly salary, allowances, and various subsidies to Comrade Li Zhihuan, Party B, on the day they are issued. Party B shall uniformly manage and allocate said funds for daily household expenses and savings.”
This clause directly locked down the source of funding.
“Clause Two: Comrade Li Zhihuan, Party B, shall be responsible for maintaining household cleanliness and ensuring healthy meals for family members, among other logistical duties. The specific content and standards of said duties shall be independently determined by Party B according to actual circumstances, and Party A shall not interfere without cause.”
This clause clearly defined her work responsibilities while adding the loophole phrase “independently determined,” preventing her mother-in-law or husband from criticizing how she handled chores.
“Clause Three: Party A and Party B shall implement a separate room living system. Without Party B’s permission, Party A may not enter Party B’s room for any reason. The same applies in reverse.”
This clause was the highest priority—the core protection of her salted fish lifestyle.
It absolutely had to be nailed down with no room for ambiguity.
“Clause Four: Party A and Party B shall not interfere in each other’s private lives. So long as national laws and military discipline are not violated, both parties retain the right to personal privacy and individual living habits.”
“Clause Five: This agreement shall take effect upon signing by both parties and shall remain valid for one year. After one year, if neither party objects, the agreement shall automatically renew.”
…
She wrote more than ten clauses in one breath, sealing every loophole she could think of.
Each clause was rigorously worded and logically clear, completely reflecting the style of the project contracts she used to write in her previous life.
After finishing, she read through the entire document from beginning to end and nodded in satisfaction.
Perfect!
With this agreement, her “meal ticket” was permanently secured, and her status as “dormitory manager” had become officially legitimate.
Holding the “contract,” still carrying the smell of fresh ink, she walked to Qi Weiguo’s room and knocked on the door.
Knock. Knock. Knock.
The sound echoed especially clearly in the silent night.
After quite a while, the door finally opened from the inside.
Qi Weiguo had already taken off his military jacket and was wearing only a white shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his forearms, exposing firm and powerful lines.
There was still moisture in his hair, clearly from having just washed his face with cold water.
Seeing Li Zhihuan standing there, his cold and stern face showed little expression, though his brows shifted almost imperceptibly.
“What is it?”
His voice carried a trace of hoarseness from just washing up.
Li Zhihuan said nothing. She merely handed over the several sheets of paper in her hands.
Qi Weiguo lowered his eyes, his gaze falling onto the pages.
When he saw the long and bizarre title, a crack finally appeared in his usually calm eyes.
“Temporary Agreement on Household Cooperation, Division of Labor, and Management Between Comrade Qi Weiguo and Comrade Li Zhihuan”?
What kind of thing was this?
He took it and, under the dim hallway light, read it word by word.
Time seemed to stop.
Li Zhihuan could clearly see Qi Weiguo’s expression shift from confusion, to scrutiny, to disbelief, and finally into a complicated emotion she could not understand.
It even seemed as though his breathing had stopped.
In the entire military compound—no, probably in the whole country—there could not possibly be a second married couple who would sign something like this.
How was this a marriage?
This was clearly two strangers living together out of convenience, dividing responsibilities and calculating interests.
The fingers gripping the paper turned pale from the force.
Li Zhihuan’s heart tightened.
She knew exactly how shocking this document would be to a man of this era.
It was practically pointing at his nose and saying: You are not my husband. You are only my business partner.
But she had no choice.
“This is a detailed supplement based on the rules you set today.”
Li Zhihuan broke the silence first, her tone calm as though giving a work report.
“I think that since we’re cooperating, it’s better to clearly define the rights, responsibilities, and benefits. It’ll be good for both of us. That way we won’t argue about these matters again in the future and cause trouble for you or the military.”
She deliberately wrapped everything in lofty phrases like “for your sake” and “to avoid causing trouble for the military.”
Qi Weiguo finally finished reading.
He lifted his head, his dark eyes in the dim light like two bottomless ancient wells, fixed tightly on her.
He did not get angry, nor did he question her.
He simply stared silently at her, as though trying to see through her skin and discover what kind of soul now occupied her body.
Li Zhihuan felt uneasy under his gaze, but she still maintained her professional smile.
“So, Battalion Commander Qi? If there’s no problem, please sign here.”
She took out the bald-tipped fountain pen from her pocket and held it out to him.
Her attitude was completely businesslike, as if saying, Once the contract is signed, we’ll be good comrades.
Qi Weiguo did not take the pen.
His gaze slowly moved down from her face to the absurd “agreement,” then back to her face again.
His Adam’s apple bobbed once.
Just when Li Zhihuan thought he was about to tear the agreement apart on the spot, he suddenly spoke.
His voice was frighteningly low.
“Li Zhihuan, what exactly are you trying to do?”
He had already asked this question once today.
But this time, it carried a probing curiosity and… a trace of irritation from feeling offended, though even he himself had not realized it.
Li Zhihuan met his gaze, her smile unchanged.
“I want to live properly and become a good military wife who puts your mind at ease and reassures the organization.”
Her answer was flawless.
Qi Weiguo fell silent again.
He could feel that every word she said was false, yet he could find no reason to refute her.
Every action she took and every sentence she spoke pushed him into a position where he could not refuse.
If he refused to sign?
Then she would probably have another excuse to accuse him of lacking sincerity and continue causing trouble.
But if he signed?
Then the little remaining legitimacy of their marriage would completely become a joke on paper.
The air seemed frozen.
Li Zhihuan patiently held out the pen, her wrist beginning to ache.
In the end, Qi Weiguo seemed to make up his mind.
He snatched the fountain pen from her hand. Because he used too much force, the pen tip scraped harshly across the paper.
Then, in the blank space after “Party A,” he signed his name in bold, powerful strokes.
Qi Weiguo.
The three characters pressed deeply into the paper, carrying a sharpness like someone cornered to the edge.
After signing, he stuffed both the agreement and the pen back into her hands. Without saying another word, he turned around and slammed the door shut with a loud bang.
The massive sound made Li Zhihuan’s ears ring.
She lowered her head to look at the signature on the agreement and let out a very, very long sigh of relief.
Success!
Starting today, her paradise of slacking off finally had “legal” protection!