Chapter 60

“Shui’er is so nice—they’ll like you.”

Ye Qingshui turned over at that, reminding him, “Your grandparents barely spoke tonight. It didn’t seem like they liked me at all…”

Xie Tingyu was momentarily speechless.

He couldn’t help recalling the moment when he’d walked Grandma out.

Her warm hand had gripped his, her smile gone from her face.

“Tingyu, your grandma wouldn’t scare your wife away. You don’t need to protect her that much. I didn’t even interrogate her, did I? If it were some other old lady, it wouldn’t have been so easy for her…”

Her molars ached with bitterness, and she added sourly, “Old folks are just unwanted. I get it.”

Xie Tingyu almost laughed, replying softly, “That’s not true. Thank you, Grandma.”

“She’s timid. Over here, I’m already a handful to deal with, so I was hoping you could give her something to hold onto. If you scare her off, who’s going to give me a great-grandchild to hold?”

At the mention of a great-grandchild, Yan Chun’s bellyful of words vanished instantly; all her expectations took on solid form.

She patted her grandson’s shoulder firmly and said seriously, “Whether she’s educated or where she comes from doesn’t matter. People can change, and your grandma will help teach your wife well. You just need to work harder—try to give me a baby this year. I’ve been waiting so long my hair’s turned white.”

The Xie family was indeed rather sparse in numbers.

The tips of Xie Tingyu’s ears reddened, and he couldn’t find a reply.

In the dark—

Xie Tingyu broke out of his thoughts and glanced over, smiling faintly. “If we moved faster, we might already have a child. Grandma would be too happy to dislike you. Do you want to…”

The tail end of his words rose slightly, trembling, carrying a fervent warmth.

Ye Qingshui said nothing, closing her eyes to sleep.

He looked at her turned back, his brows knitting.

In the middle of the night, cold and sparse moonlight spilled in from the window.

The first time Ye Qingshui woke was at 3 a.m.—the time she would normally get up to make breakfast and take it to sell at the black market. When she woke and switched on the desk lamp, glancing at the wall clock, she realized it really was three o’clock. It was the first time in half a year she’d had such a clear sense of the time.

After so long in the mountains, returning to city life brought a surprisingly strong feeling—at least she didn’t have to fumble for matches to light a kerosene lamp when getting up at night.

She wondered how Xie Tingyu had once managed to go from luxury to frugality and adapt to life in a remote mountain village. He had lived in the Ye family’s rundown hut, adapted perfectly, and could do any kind of hard, heavy, or dirty work. He was more like a farmer than she, a real one by birth.

When she lay back down, the next time she woke it was already past eight.

The space beside her was empty and completely cool—proof he’d been up for a while. At exactly five, the army’s wake-up bugle had sounded, followed by the intermittent sounds of drill practice outside: loud, neat, and powerful enough to make it hard for her to fall back asleep.

By the time Ye Qingshui had washed up and gone downstairs, Xu Maofang and her daughter were already having breakfast.

“Shui girl, you’re up a bit late today,” Xu Maofang said kindly, glancing at Xie Jun. She went on, “You two just came back yesterday—long journey, it’s tiring. But you did rest the whole afternoon. Yesterday Dongmei and I were looking forward to chatting with you; we wanted to hear about Tingyu’s time in the countryside.”

She sighed.

“Young girls shouldn’t be so lazy.”

With just that, she’d put the “lazy wife” label on Ye Qingshui—sweetly and with such polish that no one could fault her.

She smiled again. “Come have breakfast, Shui girl, I made it myself. Tomorrow, we’ll try your cooking.”

Last night’s dinner had been excellent—everyone had enjoyed it. She clearly could cook, but had chosen to sleep in and let her nominal mother-in-law make her breakfast. Xu Maofang didn’t press, but her soft, smiling knife cut clean.

Father-in-law Xie Jun’s expression was hard to read, but his cold, stern face carried faint traces of Xie Tingyu’s features. His unsmiling look made him a bit intimidating.

He said nothing—just ate a simple breakfast and left.

A new bride’s first return to her husband’s home should be about leaving a good impression: diligent, capable, respectful to elders.

If Ye Qingshui wanted to be the perfect Xie daughter-in-law, she should now be panicking, blaming herself, wishing she could dig a hole and bury herself—her father-in-law had gone to work while she was just getting up.

But that wasn’t Ye Qingshui.

She walked slowly down the stairs, stifled a yawn, and said casually, “The bugle in the barracks is so loud. I didn’t sleep well last night, so I woke up late.”

She glanced at Xu Maofang’s breakfast—fried dough sticks, milk, and boiled eggs—and smiled.

The dough sticks were clearly bought from the street, the eggs at least boiled by Xu Maofang herself, the milk delivered in bulk.

Still, for a housewife who never lifted a finger in the kitchen, making breakfast was already a rare feat.

“Just this isn’t enough to fill us up—Brother Yu eats a lot, and so do I,” Ye Qingshui said.

It was too late to make buns, so she kneaded dough, punching and stretching it until it became elastic after exactly ninety-nine repetitions. She used last night’s leftover broth as the soup base, cut up some cured meat, sausage, and potatoes, drizzled fragrant oil, and brought it all to a fast boil.

This out-of-the-box move completely threw Xu Maofang off.

She studied Ye Qingshui carefully—she had underestimated her. This village girl had none of the usual timidity or inferiority; in fact, she was rather bold at heart.

But there was no time to dwell on it—soon, the kitchen was filled with the bubbling sound and steaming aroma of the broth.

The irresistible cured meat scent, which had tormented the neighbors all night, was back again. People poked their heads out, looked around, and finally shut their doors and windows tightly in frustration.

Xu Maofang hadn’t eaten much meat last night, holding herself back because she’d already made a show in front of her stepson of looking down on such rustic, home-cured food.

Xie Dongmei also restrained herself from touching any. But now, with a steaming bowl of cured meat noodles right in front of them, the fragrant, lively heat tugged at their stomachs—it was impossible to avoid.

Especially since the new sister-in-law had ladled out small bowls for each of them. Not eating would almost be impolite.

The fried dough sticks, milk, and dry boiled eggs Xu Maofang had prepared had completely lost their appeal.

Xie Tingyu had just swallowed two boiled eggs. The yolks slid down his throat, leaving a parched, choking dryness. Without caring that the soup above was still too hot, he blew on it lightly and took a shallow sip.

A wonderful flavor blossomed in his mouth—the scalding broth was rich and savory, the sweet taste of cured sausage mingling with the salty, aromatic smokiness of cured pork, all blending perfectly into the soup.

The noodles were tender yet springy, the broth clear and fresh. On a winter day, having a bowl of soup noodles like this warmed one from head to toe.

Xie Tingyu sipped the broth with a smile, unhurried and graceful in his movements.

“What a pity Dad had to rush out. He couldn’t enjoy such good noodles. Shui’ya, let’s bring him some later.”

Xu Maofang ground her teeth slightly. Since when had the relationship between her stepson and her husband gotten so good?

And he even wanted to specially bring noodles for him?

Xie Dongmei didn’t speak—instead, there was only the sound of her slurping noodles. She ate quickly and greedily, sweat beading on her forehead. Whatever her elder brother had just said, she no longer heard.

After finishing her bowl of hot soup noodles, Ye Qingshui couldn’t help thinking of how Xie Tingyu had just said he’d bring noodles to her father-in-law. She hadn’t even had the chance to refuse.

She felt a little embarrassed. How could she feel right about offering something so simple? The commander had surely tasted all kinds of delicacies.

And if he hadn’t eaten enough, the canteen would still have delicious meals to fill his stomach.

But soon, Xie Tingyu finished the noodles and, without fuss, packed a large portion into a lunchbox. He asked, “Does your foot still hurt?”

Ye Qingshui shook her head without thinking. Last night, Xie Tingyu had massaged and applied medicine for her, and after a night’s rest, the pain was nearly gone.

The medicine had been quite effective.

Xie Tingyu smiled and told her, “Go put on a thicker cotton coat.”

With no choice, Ye Qingshui went upstairs to change. She had only brought two cotton coats—one for the New Year, bright red and festive, and the other the dark blue one she had worn yesterday when she fell.

Thinking it was just a quick breakfast delivery and nothing important, she chose the blue coat.

She neatly tied her hair into two braids and washed her face.

When she came out, Xie Tingyu frowned again.

There was a subtle frustration in the young man’s face, but he didn’t say anything. He simply touched the smooth braid by her shoulder and sighed softly by her ear.

“Shui’er really doesn’t like to dress herself up, does she?”

Distracted, Ye Qingshui replied, “Don’t be touchy. You can take it up yourself—I’ll wait downstairs.”

Xie Tingyu took her hand and slipped it into his coat pocket.

Ye Qingshui flinched and tried to pull away, but couldn’t break free.

Inside the warm pocket, the heat from his fingertips spread—gentle, tingling warmth.

On the way, Xie Tingyu ran into many acquaintances, and Ye Qingshui was also pulled into their greetings.

Being the center of attention in the courtyard was troublesome for Xie Tingyu—everyone they passed asked:

“So this is your new wife?” Their eyes always probing.

“Heard she’s not from around here. How’d you find a wife from another place?”

“Better have your grandma teach her well.”

“So this is your wife? Hm… doesn’t seem as good as Sister Xiang Zuo.”

…

Finally, when they reached the building where her father-in-law worked, Ye Qingshui spoke with a faintly cold, impatient tone, “Go on up.”

Xie Tingyu couldn’t help but laugh. He put his hand on her shoulder and gently pushed her forward.

“I especially brought you along—how could it work without you?”

Bending close to her ear, he whispered, “I don’t even remember who this Xiang Zuo or Xiang You is.”

“Shui’er, don’t get jealous, alright?”

Ye Qingshui was very unaccustomed to this kind of intimate behavior—especially from Xie Tingyu, whose sudden and shameless affection caught her off guard.

Before, it had only been her chasing after him. He had never gone out of his way to coax her. The difference made her uncomfortable.

Soon, Xie Tingyu led her up to the second floor and knocked on Xie Jun’s office door.

When it opened, Xie Jun sat upright, his stern gaze fixed directly on them.

Xie Tingyu lifted the lunchbox in his wife’s hands and said to his father, “You didn’t eat much breakfast—Shui’ya brought you some soup noodles.”

At that moment, his aide was coming upstairs, also carrying a large steaming bowl of porridge.

Unbothered, Xie Tingyu still opened the lunchbox. The hot noodles sent up an enticing aroma.

The middle-aged man reporting to Xie Jun suddenly smiled. “No wonder it’s been smelling so good around mealtime these past two days—it’s because your wife has been here.”

Xie Tingyu didn’t say much, only looked at his father.

Xie Jun’s severe expression finally eased a little. He said to his daughter-in-law, “Thank you.”

Only then did Xie Tingyu look satisfied and lead his wife out.

Xie Jun glanced at the steaming noodles, then turned away. “You eat it.”

Shen Zhouzheng quickly waved his hands. “Your son went to the trouble of bringing you food—how could I dare? If I eat it, he’ll settle accounts with me later!”

“You really want me to eat it? If I do, I’ll—” Before he could finish, the bowl had already been moved back in front of Xie Jun.

After finishing the noodles, Xie Jun let out a barely audible sigh.

“That useless brat—won’t walk the path I set for him, won’t marry the woman I chose. He’s going to turn the world upside down.”

Shen Zhouzheng, father of Shen Weimin, said quietly, “It’s normal for him not to listen to you.”

“Look at how much he dotes on his wife. This bowl of noodles you just ate—well, you owe your daughter-in-law for that, understand?”

Meanwhile, Xie Tingyu led his wife out of the building, weaving through the crowd. Dozens of eyes fell on them, and within ten minutes, almost every elder had seen Xie Tingyu’s new bride.

Ye Qingshui looked down at her shabby, worn coat and felt her face heat up.

“I told you I didn’t want to come up here, but you had to drag me.”

“This time it’s not my fault.”

Xie Tingyu laughed quietly, rubbing her head. “It’s fine—they understand. I didn’t marry some rich young lady from the bourgeoisie. My wife is a pure and honest daughter of the poor peasant class. That’s a good thing.”

“How about we go buy some New Year’s goods? Grandma told me to take you shopping last night.”

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