The old Xu family house had been newly built over a decade ago. As Cheng Baozhu walked along, she realized that among the village homes, the Xu family’s house could definitely be considered one of the better ones.
Why? Because although the exterior walls were coated in yellow clay, the lower half of the interior walls had been plastered with cement.
Cheng Baozhu felt a pang of envy. Now there was no need to worry about brushing against the walls while sleeping, no fear of accidentally leaning against the wall and having yellow clay crumble all over her.
Thinking of this, she cast a slightly resentful glance at Xu Chuan, finding him utterly useless, and resolved that she would build her own house next time.
In fact, the small, shabby house they currently lived in was the original old house. Before the newly built house was occupied, Xu Chuan’s parents had lived there with their children.
At that time, there was also a wooden house in the courtyard, where Xu Chuan and his brothers, along with their eldest sister, slept. After they moved, the house at the edge of the village gradually fell into disuse, and the wooden house naturally collapsed over the years.
By late morning, the kitchen began to fill with an enticing aroma, prompting Cheng Baozhu, who had been wandering around the house, to pause at the doorway.
She finished the last bite of cucumber in her hand, smiled brightly, and walked over to Jiang Yulan, saying, “Mom, your cooking is amazing! I could smell it all the way from the vegetable plot. Are the dumplings filled with chives? You must have put plenty of meat, too. I love chive fillings. Oh, chives with eggs would make great fried chive pockets as well.”
Li Cuifen, assisting in the kitchen, was sitting by the stove. From her angle, she could clearly see that flattering face.
What irritated her most was that her mother-in-law had a penchant for being easily swayed, falling for Cheng Baozhu’s flattery!
Jiang Yulan, glowing from the praise, raised her eyebrows slightly. “Of course! Our chives are flavorful. I even put in a full one and a half pounds of meat, all with pure white flour. The white flour was sent by Sister Chuan—it’s so elastic.”
The pride of her life was securing a good match for her eldest daughter, who had married a soldier, a company commander. Now, her eldest daughter was enjoying the perks of army life.
Her son-in-law handed over all the allowances to her, and she even managed the army-issued housing, so their home often received supplies from the unit.
Cheng Baozhu exclaimed, showering further praise.
“They say wheat grown in the black soil of the north tastes completely different—Sister, you’re amazing.”
She wasn’t skilled in anything else, but she had an exceptional ability to read situations and please the cook. No matter the circumstances, survival required not offending the one who held the cooking power.
Xu Chuan didn’t count. From another perspective, Cheng Baozhu was incredibly adaptable.
From the moment she entered the courtyard, she understood who truly held the power in the Xu family estate now.
It wasn’t her father-in-law Xu Baoguo, who shared a name with nine others, but Jiang Yulan.
This woman controlled the kitchen and the distribution of resources—she absolutely could not be crossed.
Cheng Baozhu thought quietly to herself.
She hadn’t expected her path of flattery to be so smooth; it seemed Jiang Yulan’s initial impression of her was already quite high.
Jiang Yulan, thoroughly charmed by Cheng Baozhu’s sweet words, couldn’t help but smile broadly.
“You must be hungry. Here’s some fermented rice wine with egg,” Jiang Yulan said kindly, handing over a bowl, “drink this first to settle your stomach.”
Cheng Baozhu complied, taking the bowl and leaving without looking back.
Yes, she was cunning, but also naive.
She saw all her honeyed words as a means to the delicious end. Having obtained it, she was determined to savor it.
She had no long-term strategy or foresight.
Jiang Yulan, intoxicated by the flattery, didn’t notice Cheng Baozhu’s disposable, self-serving behavior.
Li Cuifen sat silently on a small stool. After Cheng Baozhu left, she pushed the firewood further into the stove with a snap and sneered, “All she knows is flattery.”
Jiang Yulan, still smiling, waved toward the door. “You go out, too. Call Hutou back to eat the fermented rice egg.”
Years of living together had bred mutual annoyance; Li Cuifen didn’t need to linger before her.
Li Cuifen was pleased and set down the fire tongs.
She had no major conflicts with Cheng Baozhu, and without Jiang Yulan standing between them, Li Cuifen was friendly.
“Baozhu, when are you planning to start working?” Li Cuifen asked, offering her a persimmon, leaning closer. “If you want to work, come with me. I can help you find a good spot, make it easier.”
Cheng Baozhu paused. “Work?”
“Yes.” Li Cuifen bit into the soft persimmon. “I heard you haven’t worked before. At first, the team leader will assign you a good task; otherwise, you won’t last.”
Who would have thought that Cheng Baozhu had never harvested pigweed? Li Cuifen was genuinely a bit envious.
With her delicate frame, working alongside those accustomed to manual labor would make her faint quickly.
Cheng Baozhu stayed silent, not even eating her persimmon.
Go into the fields?
Not a chance.
So the question arose: what should she do instead?
This question didn’t trouble Cheng Baozhu for long—not because she found a solution, but because she shrugged it off.
As the saying goes, the wagon will find the path when it reaches the mountain, the boat will straighten when it hits the bridge; Cheng Baozhu never added unnecessary worry.
…
After lunch, she lingered in the old house for a while. When Xu Chuan returned from Chengjia Village with the remaining betrothal money, she followed him back to the edge of the village.
Not only did he return with the money, but he also carried a large bag.
Xu Chuan praised, “Your third brother’s alright. He seems like a real man.”
With him there, they could keep an eye on Cheng family members, who might otherwise cause trouble.
Cheng Baozhu rolled her eyes. “You just mean he looks like a man, must you say a ‘real man’?”
Xu Chuan didn’t mind and brought out the contents of the bag once inside. “Alright, come see. Besides the thermos and the tin box, there are a few of your hair ornaments.”
Cheng Baozhu froze, then quickly said, “Put them away. I don’t want them.”
Although she disdained the taste of the original owner, she thought this was too tacky.
Xu Chuan was puzzled; he thought they looked great.
He didn’t ask further, happily saying, “Fine, you don’t want them. Keep them for our daughter to wear later.”
Cheng Baozhu: …
After a few drinks and before sleep, why was she already dreaming?
That night, the moon shone brightly.
The temperature had dropped again. After dinner, as they walked back from the old house, the cold wind made them shiver.
At home, Cheng Baozhu asked Xu Chuan to prepare a basin of hot footwater. Sliding her cold feet in, she sighed in comfort.
Since sunset, Xu Chuan had been uneasy. The elders said ghosts could not act in daylight, and once the sun set, ghosts would appear.
Cheng Baozhu rolled her eyes. “Stop being so ignorant. Haven’t you thought it might not even be a ghost?”
Xu Chuan protested, “Then what do you think it is?”
“Alien technology,” Cheng Baozhu said with a glance, raising an eyebrow smugly. “You really need to read more Marxist philosophy. You know, Marxist philosophy.”
Roasting power +100000
Xu Chuan: “…Pour your own footwater.” He stood up in frustration and left.
Cheng Baozhu chuckled. “System, can you drag me into the space too tonight, don’t let him know.”
She wanted to watch the fun… or rather, see how the system convinced an ordinary person to truly believe in ghosts.
System: […Affirmative.]
It was just a matter of opening an auxiliary space.
Late at night, light rain began to fall, soft as feathers, barely making a sound.
Cheng Baozhu only noticed it when she went out to pour water, tightening her clothes with a hint of worry.
A chill always follows an autumn rain.
“Creak—”
Sounds came from the courtyard, followed by the door latch being locked. Xu Chuan returned.
Under the lamp, raindrops were clearly visible on his head. He seemed to be carrying something bulky in his arms.
Cheng Baozhu, already in bed, sat up to see Xu Chuan carefully take a book from his arms and place it reverently by the pillow.
Cheng Baozhu: ?
“What’s this?” she asked, leaning over.
Xu Chuan, having taken off his coat, slid into bed and said proudly, “The Red Book!”
Cheng Baozhu: Mao’s Selected Works…
Xu Chuan leaned back in bed, looking relaxed.
He said, “I borrowed it from the team leader. Tonight we’ll see whether that ghostly thing is a mule or a horse.”
Cheng Baozhu: …
He tucked himself under the covers and carefully read the book.
He borrowed the Red Book for reassurance, and also to truly immerse himself in study.
Cheng Baozhu had called him uneducated, yet he was happy to have her look down on him.
He remembered that Cheng Baozhu had attended junior high and had a higher cultural level than him. Unable to surpass her in knowledge, he resolved to dominate in thought.
He hadn’t known how to read before due to circumstances, but now he read fluently and gradually became absorbed.
The last dog bark of the night ceased, and it was almost midnight.
Cheng Baozhu, already resting her head, fell into deep sleep as Xu Chuan was pulled into the system space. He was now marked for unrestricted access to the space for study.
“Plop—”
Xu Chuan turned off the light, put the book away, and snuggled next to Cheng Baozhu to sleep.
As soon as he entered deep sleep, he re-entered the space.
[Beep, today’s task: make fried rice with eggs.]