The little lamb staggered to its feet while its mother licked it clean. The scene was heartwarming. Yan Junsheng, his arms still covered in blood, stood and looked over at Ming Ming.
She was still pinching her nose, but watching eagerly. Muttering to herself, he caught her saying:
“Fresh lamb skewers… crispy lamb chops… Grow up nice and fat, little one, so I can eat you later. I’ll be keeping an eye on you.”
Yan Junsheng: “…”
He couldn’t stop himself from correcting her: “This sheep is being raised to sell, not for you to eat.”
Ming Ming looked like the sky had fallen. Her face drooped. “What? Sell it? Why can’t we eat it?”
Her face looked utterly miserable, as if she’d suffered some earth-shattering grievance.
Yan Junsheng couldn’t help but find it a little funny. Was she really that greedy?
Ming Ming trudged off, looking lost and dejected.
The smile faded from Yan Junsheng’s lips. He just stood there silently in the sheep pen, watching her back disappear. Alone.
He had thought that, at the very least, Chen Chanjun would share her umbrella with him.
Luckily, he hadn’t asked.
He looked up at the sky. The rain was still pouring, thunder rumbling now and then. People always said spring rain was soft and nourishing—but this kind of thunderstorm was anything but gentle.
He decided to wait until the rain eased up before heading back.
Then, suddenly, Chen Chanjun appeared in his line of sight again—one umbrella open above her head, another clutched in her hand, wobbling unsteadily through the mud.
She stopped in front of him and, from an arm’s length away, held out the umbrella with a restrained expression.
Yan Junsheng didn’t take it right away. He just looked at her for a long moment. She glared back at him, frantically signaling for him to accept it. He finally took it, but couldn’t help asking, “You’d rather run all the way back to grab me another umbrella than just share yours with me?”
If you dislike me this much, then why force me to marry you in the first place?
“Hoo—” Ming Ming exhaled sharply, immediately covering her nose with her free hand. She frowned at his words, stepped back, and said, “Don’t walk with me. You’re covered in blood, and you reek of it…”
Yes. She really was that disgusted.
Yan Junsheng looked at the grime on his hands and arms and was left speechless.
Ming Ming was about to head back to bed for another nap, but as soon as she turned, her foot slipped. Yan Junsheng reacted instantly, catching her before she fell.
“Ahhhhhh—!”
“You didn’t even fall. What are you screaming for?”
Ming Ming’s eyes widened in outrage as she stared at his hand braced around her waist.
“Gross! Get your filthy hands off me—ahhh!”
Yan Junsheng: “…”
He was about to let go, but Ming Ming, terrified of kissing the ground, grabbed onto his collar instead. Their eyes locked; his face remained cold.
Afraid to slip again if she walked on her own, she edged closer against him.
“Never seen you this obsessed with cleanliness before.” He handed the umbrella back. “Here, take it.”
She gave the umbrella a look full of disdain, then carefully pinched at the cleanest spot she could find.
The next second, Yan Junsheng bent down and swept her up in his arms. The umbrella tilted just right to cover both of them.
Ming Ming nearly exploded. “You just smeared all your filth on me!”
Yan Junsheng gave a low chuckle. “Now you and I smell the same.” With that, he carried her steadily back home.
Once inside, Ming Ming looked like a fragile willow swaying in the wind, on the verge of fainting. She didn’t know whether to sit or stand. Yan Junsheng went off to boil two kettles of water. Each took one back to their own rooms to wash.
By the time he’d scrubbed himself clean and wrung out his clothes, she still hadn’t come out. He went to knock on her door. “Are you done?”
A weak voice came from inside. “Done…”
He listened carefully, then asked, “Can I come in?”
“…Come in.”
He pushed open the door and saw Ming Ming squatting there, holding her breath as she stared at the clothes in the basin like they were her mortal enemy.
After much struggle, she still couldn’t bring herself to touch them.
Yan Junsheng sighed, went over, lifted the basin, and washed his and her clothes together.
“You really are a good man!” Ming Ming’s eyes welled up. “Whoever marries you is one lucky woman!”
Wait. That sounded a little… off.
The system piped up: “Are you complimenting him, or yourself?”
Right, she’d forgotten—they were husband and wife now.
Sure enough, when she looked up, Yan Junsheng was staring at her in silence, as if to say: ‘Wow, you really know how to toot your own horn.’
Ming Ming thought: Well… isn’t it true, though?
Spring rain was precious, people said; a little was enough to ease worries. But this rain showed no signs of letting up. With the fields waterlogged, no one in the village was working; everyone stayed huddled at home.
Near noon, when he saw she had no intention of cooking, Yan Junsheng went to make lunch himself. Ming Ming sat under the eaves, chin propped in her hand, mulling over the scraps of intel she’d collected during these idle days.
A few villages lay within several kilometers, all about the same level as Xinli Village. Farther out was a town. Ming Ming’s clever little brain started turning—she could head to the next village to barter things and earn a runner’s fee, or maybe take a trip to town, bring back some cheap but uncommon trinkets, and sell them for novelty’s sake.
As the saying went, since you’re here, make the best of it—but that didn’t mean lying flat and doing nothing. If you wanted to get by, you still had to hustle.
As a sent-down youth, Yan Junsheng had a structured wage system. Since this was his first year, he received a fixed monthly salary, rations, and a settlement allowance. Starting the second year, he’d earn work points like the villagers.
Ming Ming figured he must have some savings on hand, and his family surely gave him pocket money before he came.
But none of that had anything to do with her. When they married, aside from sharing half this house, he hadn’t invested a thing—no bride price, and the three essential household items had been bought by Chen Weiguo.
That left Ming Ming in a predicament.
A very familiar predicament…
She was flat broke.
And as far as she was concerned, odd jobs were fine, but farming? Not her thing.
The system said, “Usually, when people transmigrate into this kind of era, they use their modern knowledge to get rich. You could do the same.”
Ming Ming’s face went blank. “Do you even remember what I studied?”
Oh right. Computer science.
A few seconds later, the system erupted in maniacal laughter inside her head.
“Hah—hah—hah—this is perfect! Up till now, this world’s been way too normal, but finally! This is amazing, hahahahaha!”
Ming Ming ground her teeth. I don’t believe I can make this work.
Sam Williams On TYMIMA Chapter 152