Yes, the 180 coins Xu family gave Cheng Baozhu had been held back by the three pairs of Cheng family brothers-in-law.
Just as after Cheng Baozhu’s parents passed, her marriage was essentially managed by the brothers-in-law. Regarding withholding the bride price, others could scold all they wanted, but no one could rightfully claim otherwise—not even the old Cheng uncle.
On the way home, Xu Chuan had been thinking about this—180 coins were meant for Cheng Baozhu, and with the Cheng siblings’ poor relationships, he couldn’t let the brothers-in-law benefit so easily.
Cheng Baozhu snorted, “It’s only 180 coins, I’m happy to give it all to you if I want.”
“Really!” Xu Chuan exclaimed, excitement quickening his steps.
He forced himself to calm down and thought carefully, “Fine, I won’t take your money for nothing. Give me half, and I’ll double it back to you in two months.” Xu Chuan laughed at himself, “Sounds a bit formal, huh? We’re married now anyway. When I eat meat, you eat meat. When I drink soup, you drink soup!”
It was dusk, the sunset gone, leaving only faint residual light.
Most of the villagers had gone to watch the commotion at the village entrance, and those who stayed were busy with chores, leaving the roads quiet.
Cheng Baozhu opened her eyes and froze at the scene before her.
The narrow path was lined with yellow clay houses, the grandest being two-story wooden homes—mud on the first floor, wood above.
“That’s the team leader’s house,” Xu Chuan said admiringly. “Wouldn’t it be great if one day we lived in a place like this?”
Cheng Baozhu rolled her eyes. “Stop talking nonsense. You can live there yourself, but don’t drag me along.”
She only saw these houses during summer visits with her grandmother, who practiced traditional Chinese medicine. Her father had contracted a piece of land for her grandmother to grow medicinal herbs, and the slopes were dotted with such clay houses—temple cottages, abandoned structures.
Her devoted father had even built a small villa at the foot of the herb mountain, a perfect summer retreat, which was why she tolerated staying in the village.
The elders loved recounting the past—cutting rice in sweltering heat, chopping wood in cold, neighborhood disputes, and even tales of famine.
Because of this, Cheng Baozhu had no illusions about her time-travel predicament.
Whereas most would fantasize about achieving grand feats in this era, she knew her limits.
Braving storms and soaring ten thousand miles? Forget it. She was just an ordinary photography student, pampered at home, barely scraping into university.
About five minutes later, they arrived at the very edge of the village. Xu Chuan looked around, then carefully set Cheng Baozhu down. Pushing open the door, he said, “See? This is our wedding day. Because of all this, the banquet didn’t happen, but don’t blame me later.”
Today has been more eventful than the past twenty-two years combined.
Up early to fetch his bride, discovering her half-dead, then rushing her to the hospital—he had been surviving on a single dumpling that morning.
“Conditions are what they are. Our household divided last month, and I had a spat with the eldest sister-in-law. I still need to go to the old house to get money. You go rest in the room first. After all this, let’s not blame each other.”
Xu Chuan led Cheng Baozhu inside, still remembering her earlier coldness toward him.
Suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Xu He had come. Xu Chuan hurried out and soon returned carrying a tray.
“That’s my eldest brother, bringing you food. Eat if you’re hungry. If anyone comes by, play dead, got it?”
“Ah, okay,” she replied faintly.
Cheng Baozhu wandered around the room, looking at the kitchen, the blackened dishes on the table, the outhouse… she sat dazed on the bed for a while, even contemplating leaving.
The system hurriedly warned: [Host, don’t get agitated. A person only has one life.]
Cheng Baozhu muttered: “I have two, don’t I?”
System: [Are you sure there’s a third?]
Cheng Baozhu almost cried. “I don’t want to stay here. Look at that toilet—foul! And this dirty bowl… what even is it? The bedroom walls…” She touched the earthen wall, a tear falling. “The walls are crumbling. How is anyone supposed to live like this?”
The more she thought of her previous life, the more she wanted to scream.
She missed her parents, wondering how they were now.
The system panicked. It saw her emotional data spike and urgently said: [Calm down. Look at the year. Dawn is right ahead.]
Cheng Baozhu sat with vacant eyes: “I see no dawn, only endless darkness.”
System: [How can that be? I am the Chef God System. I provide full services in the culinary industry, guiding you to the pinnacle of life, and making you, like your parents, a wealthy generation.]
Wealthy generation?
Cheng Baozhu wiped her tears. “Will you give me money? How much?”
Her father always said money solved 99% of problems. With enough money, she might be able to endure this.
Of course, no one wanted to die; she was nervous that she might actually die this time.
System: … [Follow my guidance daily—learn cooking, ingredient recognition, planting, enterprise management… You have an 84% chance of surpassing your parents’ wealth.]
Surprisingly, even 84% felt low for the system.
Cheng Baozhu slumped. Wasn’t she unwilling to try for top universities? She simply couldn’t.
Yet the system’s words made her realize that with money, she could live well.
Suddenly, she regretted giving the 180 coins to Xu Chuan. From her memories, that sum could cover a house if combined with others.
The original had plenty of money—98 coins from the household division, her mother’s compensation of 500 coins, and even a small gold brick…
Calculating, she realized she actually had quite a bit of money in hand.
Meanwhile, in the old house at the village entrance, tensions were high.
Night had fallen, and fewer people were at the door.
Cheng family villagers trickled home, and local villagers carried back their tables and chairs.
Though Xu family’s wedding banquet hadn’t happened, food had been purchased and tables were borrowed. When the bride went to the hospital, Jiang Yulan distributed the dishes to the villagers—a unique form of celebration.
The Xu family hall, usually lit only for festivals, was illuminated again.
Xu Chuan waved casually: “Brothers-in-law, think about it. If Baozhu’s parents were alive, would her wedding day have ended like this?”
They remained expressionless.
Xu family eldest sister-in-law, Li Cuifen, scoffed: “No need to say. Who these days would withhold the bride price? People would laugh us to death—shameless!”
She slapped her face lightly, glancing at them.
Cheng’s brothers-in-law turned red, speechless. While Baozhu’s hospitalization was blamed on them, they knew better.
Regarding withholding the bride price, their faces burned but they had nothing to say.
Jiang Yulan murmured coldly: “Not to mention whether your in-laws can rest in peace, are you saying you won’t marry off your daughters in the future?”
Buzz—
The Cheng brothers’ ears burned.
Cheng Sanming snapped: “Stop dragging our parents into this. You talk so grandly, but you just want the 180 coins, hoping to get our sister for free!”
Xu Chuan clicked his tongue helplessly: “Sanming, don’t say that. The 180 coins weren’t for us, it’s for Baozhu.”
Cheng Sanming laughed angrily: “Baozhu married into your family. Do you think the money would stay with her? Even if we treated her poorly, we wouldn’t let her starve.”
Honestly, Cheng Sanming thought his sister was a troublemaker. But she was their only sister; now that she was married, a bit of sibling affection rose in him.
This marriage was decided by the Xu women. Xu Chuan had doubted it from the start, but the bride insisted, and the bride price was accepted.
Who was Xu Chuan?
Everyone in ten villages knew he was much like Baozhu—a pair of lazy spouses, eating before they earned.
Later, if Baozhu struggled, the brothers could use the bride price to support the couple a few times, improving their life.
There was selfishness, yes, but also a bit of concern for Baozhu.
Moonlight brightened, casting light through doors and windows. The autumn wind blew, reddening the tip of Cheng Erming’s cigarette.
He paused, then looked at Xu Chuan: “The third gave you the money, right? It’d be unfair to keep it and be blamed for nothing.”
“Hiss!”
Cheng Erming suddenly sat up, glaring at his wife.
Why pinch him for no reason?
His second sister-in-law fumed: “You idiot, the eldest hasn’t even said anything yet!”
The money was initially meant for Baozhu’s safekeeping, but the sisters-in-law hadn’t taken it seriously.
Later, when Baozhu reclaimed it, would they help or not?
Feng Meihua spoke quickly: “Baozhu looks fierce; she could be tricked. If the money’s taken, don’t expect us to help again.”
Li Cuifen nodded: “Alright, we’re not heartless; we won’t hoard the bride’s dowry.”
Feng Meihua added: “Saying it nicely now… who knows tomorrow?”
She knew that if things escalated, refusing the money wasn’t an option. Otherwise, the commune would gossip endlessly, shaming their children.
After another half hour, the Cheng brothers-in-law finally relented.
On the moonlit path, they bickered, losing face and money alike.
“Strange! Baozhu never falls ill, yet today…?” Feng Meihua muttered skeptically.
Cheng Baozhu wasn’t one to self-pity; after her parents’ death, she either did nothing or cooked her own eggs.
And yet, she could still get sick?