“Host, please dispel Jiang Sinian’s doubts about you before midnight tonight. Completion of this task will grant 5 points.”
“If I fail, will the difficulty increase again?”
Ye Shizhi asked, curious—she’d experienced something like this before.
Xiaoliu replied, “Everything in the system is random. Anything can happen.”
It sounded like words but said nothing—classic filler.
“Got it. Retreat for now.”
It had only been one day, and she already had three tasks, all related to Jiang Sinian. She had to save the younger one and the older one. Buy one, get one? Not like this.
While waiting for Jiang Sinian to wash and bring in the vegetables, Ye Shizhi sighed, poking her own belly.
“Don’t take after your father’s temper in the future!”
Quiet, threatening, and hard to talk to.
“Better you take after me than him.”
Jiang Sinian paused as he entered. He saw his nominal wife lowering her head, her twin braids hanging on either side, poking her belly with a single finger while speaking to her unborn child.
“All done.”
She suddenly said it, startling him.
“You walk without making a sound!”
“You’ve been talking too much.”
Ye Shizhi realized he had heard her words, and teasingly raised her voice:
“Son, you have to take after me a little, and never spoil your dad.”
After saying this, she proudly pushed out her belly and took the vegetables to start cooking.
Jiang Sinian watched the scene, recalling a memory of passing by a house where someone had left rice on the ground, only for a proud rooster to strut away with it.
The two images overlapped in his mind, and for the first time in years, a trace of a smile appeared on his usually unsmiling face.
He had good physical advantages, but perhaps due to his aura, his usual stern expression, and the rumors surrounding him, his strengths were often overlooked.
Jiang Sinian wasn’t talkative by nature. Seeing Ye Shizhi busy, he sat near the fire, occasionally adding a piece of firewood and adjusting the flames, keeping them steady.
Ye Shizhi opened another pot. Though connected to the fire below, it didn’t heat well.
“Jiang Sinian, add some fire here too.”
The pot probably hadn’t been used in a while; rust had formed around it. She poured in water and scrubbed it clean.
After cleaning, she added lard to start stir-frying. The seasoning was simple—salt, MSG, a little soy sauce—and she couldn’t guarantee it would taste amazing.
The dish was simple, ready quickly, the fresh aroma of vegetables mixed with the smell of eggs making one’s mouth water. Of course, she was hungry.
Unable to resist, she took a bite, temporarily satisfying her stomach.
“Delicious.”
There was a sense of fulfillment in eating something she made herself.
While waiting for the dough to rise and the rice to finish cooking, Ye Shizhi didn’t go over to Jiang Sinian.
Since he already suspected something, all she had to do was explain her changes in a way that matched her previous story and seemed reasonable.
It wasn’t hard, but she worried—Jiang Sinian looked cold, yet his observation skills were sharp.
From her interactions today, it was clear he was always alert, treating life like a battlefield. He noticed every movement nearby, able to identify danger instantly and strike decisively.
As she thought, the dough finished rising. She focused, kneading it into a smooth ball. Splitting it in half, she chopped some leftover chives and mixed them into one portion for chive pancakes.
The other half would become steamed buns, plain, without filling.
Since dough cooks quickly, once finished here, the rice was almost ready. She removed the lid to let the steam escape.
“Jiang Sinian, dinner’s ready.”
She went to serve a bowl when a pair of large hands beat her to it. A tall figure moved confidently, giving off a sense of security.
Ye Shizhi withdrew, getting the bowls herself.
By the time dinner was ready, only the buns remained steaming, the rising vapor curling upward. For a moment, it really felt like home.
Ye Shizhi set down the chive pancakes and admired the simple meal. Seeing Jiang Sinian still busy, she said, “Cook more later. Let’s eat first.”
By now, it was dark outside. The flickering glow of the kerosene lamp lit the table.
Ye Shizhi wasn’t used to the dim kerosene light compared to modern electric bulbs, but as Jiang Sinian sat down to eat, she finally began to enjoy her efforts.
Maybe because Jiang Sinian was the person she had spent the most time with here, she felt safe simply with him around.
“When will you come back tomorrow?”
“Before lunch.”
“Will you be home for the meal?”
She casually asked while eating her chive pancake.
“…Yes.”
“Then buy something to eat if you want. Oh, and bring some candy back.”
The buns today had no sugar, likely tasting plain, but in an ordinary household at that time, even this was a luxury. Most families were content with boiled sweet potatoes or porridge.
After eating, Ye Shizhi packed a few chive pancakes into the bowl Jiang Sinian had brought back.
“Return this to them and tell them about the rice wine—they can pay it back later.”
Seeing him return holding a bowl of rice wine, she knew it was only borrowed temporarily. She planned to try making rice wine herself later.
Jiang Sinian paused at the bowl, then lifted his eyes to watch Ye Shizhi as she washed up outside. He looked the same as he had in her memories—unchanged in appearance, only his personality and aura slightly different.
It was as if he were a different person.
He never believed in impossible things, so he naturally missed the truth.
Watching Jiang Sinian’s back disappear at the yard gate, Ye Shizhi realized belatedly that he hadn’t even taken the kerosene lamp.
It was dark, only faintly visible, and the village had many scattered objects—falling could mean injury.
Jiang Sinian walked along the main road, stopped, and leaned against a discarded wall, holding the bowl loosely in his arm.
The chive pancakes nearly slipped from the bowl, but he tilted it just in time.
The aroma of chives filled his nose. Such a simple pancake, yet it captivated Jiang Sinian.
His parents had died early; for years, home had always been dark and empty.
He thought marrying a wife would change that, but knowing she didn’t want to marry him, he did what he could. Still, it only led to arguments.
Eventually, he avoided going home, staying at friends’ houses, only returning to buy missing necessities or leave money behind.
He had given up on warmth, resigned to coldness.
But now, someone treated him with peace, spoke gently, and gradually, all his pent-up anger sank quietly inside, leaving him unaccustomed but strangely calm.