On the way, after ten-minute water breaks, half-hour leg rests, and a bout of hunger when they were halfway there, Xu Chuan finally arrived in the county, carrying Cheng Baozhu on his back.
She wore a straw hat, her sweat dampening her hair at the temples, and now she was bent low, fanning him and wiping his sweat.
“Well, I didn’t know it would be this exhausting,” Cheng Baozhu said, waving her hands awkwardly, smiling sheepishly.
Xu Chuan, panting, didn’t reply. He reached up, took her straw hat, and fanned himself vigorously.
Cheng Baozhu obediently shrank to the side, trying to minimize her presence.
After a while, Xu Chuan finished the last of the water, handed the jug over, and Cheng Baozhu took it without hesitation.
“You’re being all well-behaved now, but that won’t stop me from pushing and pinching you tonight,” Xu Chuan said irritably, holding her hand as they walked.
Luckily, the weather was cool today—if it were summer, it would have been brutal. His waist had several bruises; going into the river to cool off would have only drawn laughter from those little brats.
Back when Gao Gangtie had just a few deep teeth marks on his shoulders, he’d been teased endlessly. Everyone said his family must have a mother tiger with a powerful bite.
Cheng Baozhu murmured, “Who asked you to get so close? Your breath makes my ears tingle and go numb. And kissing my cheek—don’t think I didn’t notice.”
Xu Chuan choked on his words, gripping her hand tightly, and snorted, “We’re husband and wife. Do you know what that means?”
“Of course,” Cheng Baozhu replied with a sidelong glance, pouting, “Isn’t it… the grand harmony of life, mm mm mm—”
Xu Chuan jumped, quickly covering her mouth. How could this girl have no shame, my heavens!
“Please, don’t always say… say things that aren’t very proper,” he said, cheeks red, glancing around to ensure no one was nearby before exhaling.
Cheng Baozhu didn’t understand; they were married, so what couldn’t be said?
Moreover, if saying things was forbidden, this person still had a restless heart.
The past few days had been fine, but lately, every night before bed, Xu Chuan would take a proper bath and then look at her expectantly.
Cheng Baozhu simply ignored him.
Sex was supposed to be a joyful experience, yet living in such a house made who could enjoy it?
…
Xu Chuan first took her to the pharmacy, his face still flushed, looking more like a young girl than the cold, stern Cheng Baozhu beside him.
The pharmacy was near the purchasing department, a two-story brick building with a wooden sign in the center reading “State-Run First Pharmacy.”
Cheng Baozhu felt inexplicably excited and asked, “Do you want to take care of your business first?”
Xu Chuan observed the pharmacy, “I’ll accompany you first.”
“All right.” Cheng Baozhu strode inside confidently, as if returning home.
Xu Chuan: … She doesn’t seem to need anyone to accompany her.
The pharmacy was nearly empty, with a “Serve the People” sign behind the glass counter. The counter displayed various bottles and jars, and behind it, wooden shelves held more. In the corner were drawers for Chinese herbs.
The staff included a few young people sorting herbs, while an older man with glasses sat reading a newspaper.
Seeing the couple enter, a young clerk looked up quickly, saying, “Herb purchasing isn’t handled here; it’s at the purchasing department across the street. Bring your prescription for treatment; if uncertain, go to the hospital, some cases have subsidy vouchers.”
Then he lowered his head, returning to his work.
Cheng Baozhu peeked, he seemed to be slicing deer antlers.
She pulled a sheet of paper from her pocket and placed it on the counter, saying boldly, “I’m not here to sell medicine; I’m buying Chinese medicine.”
Huh?
Buying Chinese medicine?
The elderly man behind the counter raised his eyes, standing up, “Buying what Chinese medicine?”
Everyone froze. It was common for people to buy aspirin or asthma sprays, but purchasing traditional herbs was rare.
Why?
In recent years, people preferred Western medicine, and traditional Chinese medicine had faced restrictions.
The man on duty today, Liu Haiyang, wasn’t purely a traditional or Western doctor; he did both and liked to mix prescriptions.
Because of this habit, his pharmacy still had herb cabinets, and the purchasing staff had to periodically restock Chinese herbs.
Liu Haiyang, interested, put down his newspaper, “What medicine do you want? I’ll prepare it for you.”
Cheng Baozhu handed him her prescription, “Please follow this exactly, and divide it into four portions.”
Liu Haiyang took the paper, adjusted his glasses, examined it carefully, then raised an eyebrow at Cheng Baozhu.
Noticing his gaze, she cleared her throat, straightened her posture, and smiled with faint pride.
Xu Chuan looked at the herbs, thinking, could this half-baked girl really know something?
But the next second—
“Is this a deworming prescription?”
“Yes!”
“No need, really.” Liu Haiyang reached under the counter and tossed a packet in front of Cheng Baozhu, “Liuyi Pagoda Candy. Follow the age chart—two days, the worms come out.”
Cheng Baozhu: …
Xu Chuan: …
“Pfft!” Xu Chuan couldn’t help but laugh.
Cheng Baozhu was dazed.
Seeing their expressions, Liu Haiyang said, “Which street and commune are you from? Our staff only went to the villages last year; appropriate-age children should have already taken this.”
He frowned, “Adults don’t need it, not much use. Children under three mustn’t take it, don’t be careless.”
Cheng Baozhu racked her memory and suddenly recalled something.
Pagoda Candy existed in the original girl’s memories; the county distributed it free to children under seven. But when the candy first arrived, her second brother had snatched it all.
By the second distribution, she was over seven and never got to eat it.
Xu Chuan laughed uncontrollably, “I thought your deworming medicine meant for lice and fleas—turns out it’s for roundworms. You should’ve clarified! My mom has Pagoda Candy, reserved for Hutou; no need to make this trip in vain.”
Cheng Baozhu secretly kicked him, cheeks flushed, and pulled out another paper from her pocket, pretending calmly, “Then get 10 grams of Shenqu, 15 grams of Yinchen, 5 grams of bamboo leaf.”
She glanced at Xu Chuan, lifting her chin seriously, “This aids digestion, useful too.”
Liu Haiyang paused, then added, “Hawthorn Jianpi Pills—better results if taken with these.”
He handed a colorful round tin with a clear ingredient list: white hyacinth beans, gorgon seeds, yunzhu, Shenqu, hawthorn—all Chinese herbs.
Cheng Baozhu: !
“I also have a laxative one!”
“Want Mahuang Pills?”
…
Under the bright sun, Cheng Baozhu, her little face set, dragged Xu Chuan out of the pharmacy.
“You kept making fun of me!” she said, fuming.
Xu Chuan suppressed a smile, draping his arm around her, “Who said I did? I didn’t.”
“You did! You’re still laughing now!”
Cheng Baozhu pouted, feeling embarrassed. It turned out an iron rice bowl was not so easy to handle; she only remembered a few prescriptions, but the pharmacist had ready-made, more effective remedies.
She felt sad, as if she truly were useless.
The air around her seemed heavy. Xu Chuan wanted to joke, but seeing her like this, he stayed silent.
Turning off the main street into a quiet alley, the atmosphere calmed instantly.
Occasionally, cyclists rushed past, and Xu Chuan looked on enviously.
The banyan leaves rustled in the wind, dark brown aerial roots swaying in the air.
Seeing Cheng Baozhu still unhappy, Xu Chuan racked his brains for a way to cheer her up.
“Don’t be upset, Baozhu. You’re better than me,” he said suddenly, “You can memorize several prescriptions, but if I read them, I’d stumble over every word.”
Cheng Baozhu, unwilling to respond at first, mumbled, “Didn’t you say you learned to recognize characters?”
Xu Chuan blinked, “I’m slow. Learn today, forget tomorrow. One character takes three to five repetitions to remember.”
Cheng Baozhu snorted, grabbing his hand, “You always claim you’re smart.”
“That’s because I feared you’d look down on me, so I lied,” Xu Chuan said, taking her hand, “You have money, you could build a house and buy a bike without me. I can’t.”
For some reason, Cheng Baozhu felt warmth bubbling inside, her blood seeming to boil.
After a while, she lifted her lips, looking up seriously, “Forget it. I don’t know how to cook, wash clothes, or chop firewood. Who would do these things for me if I left you?”
Xu Chuan: …
“You’re right.”
He led her through twists and turns to a small courtyard. This wasn’t his last visit, it was Lao Ban’s home.
“Knock, knock, knock—”
“Lao Ban home?”
Soon, there was a sound from inside, and the gate opened.
Lao Ban peeked out, “Xu Chuan, what brings you here?” He looked at Cheng Baozhu and smiled, “Your wife?”
Xu Chuan nodded, introducing her, “This is my wife, Cheng Baozhu. She has business today, so we stopped by.” Then to Cheng Baozhu, “This is my friend, Ban Ming. Just call him Lao Ban.”
Cheng Baozhu smiled, calling him “Brother Ban.”
Ban Ming immediately relaxed, leading them inside and pouring tea.
When Xu Chuan tried to pay for the boy to fetch vegetables from the state-run store, he quickly refused, “No lunch. I need to get back. I’m here to buy red kidney beans—I remember you collected two bags last time.”
Ban Ming didn’t insist, went inside to fetch a bag, “Not much left. Will this do?”
Xu Chuan lifted it, “Enough, perfect.” He started taking out money.
The red kidney beans were collected from the transport team drivers, good quality, but unpopular, so they’d been sitting with him for a while.
This sale to Xu Chuan was at cost, no profit.
Why?
One, they were friends. Two, he wanted to offer a good deal, knowing Xu Chuan would soon sell them.
Previously, he heard from Chen Bing that Xu Chuan wanted to sell food. Ban Ming genuinely thought Xu Chuan could make big money if he applied himself.
Xu Chuan didn’t linger, quietly leaving with Cheng Baozhu.
Throughout the visit, Cheng Baozhu didn’t speak a word. On the way home, she curiously asked, “What are you planning to do?”
Xu Chuan grinned mysteriously, “Zenggao, you know it?”
Cheng Baozhu: “I know. Isn’t that made with red dates?”
Xu Chuan was puzzled, how did she know about zenggao? It wasn’t local.
She added, “Seems like glutinous rice too, but those ingredients are expensive. Are you making it to sell?”
Xu Chuan nodded, “We have glutinous rice—your brother brought it today. Red dates too, we have our own tree; mom dried many last year, still have some left.”
He could guess that zenggao would sell well. These past years had been prosperous; people had extra money, as could be seen from private trades at Lao Ban’s place.
Though life seemed equal in the county, there were indeed wealthy people.
Especially around year-end, with extra money and festival appetites, zenggao would have a unique market. It wouldn’t fail to sell.
Xu Chuan walked, calculating prices, occasionally asking Cheng Baozhu to remember numbers. By the end, his legs felt like they could fly; he couldn’t wait to get home and make the first batch!
Cheng Baozhu stomped, “Xu Chuan, slow down! I can’t keep up!”
Tsk!
Xu Chuan crouched, lifting her onto his back again.
And so, he was entirely under Cheng Baozhu’s control for life.