TFRLTOP Chapter 36 Part 1

Chapter 36 – The Educated Youth’s Humble Wife

Juan’er

Mingming had been moping around at home for a few days. Normally, she still had the energy to feed the chickens and geese, but now she just sat on a little stool in the courtyard, chin in her hands, staring off into space.

The big white goose at home had gotten used to being fed by her. The moment it saw her sitting there, it would waddle over, neck stretched, demanding food. When she ignored it, it shoved its head toward her.

Push it away—it came back. Push it again—it came right back.

“You’re so annoying!”

“Honk!”

“Get lost!”

“Hoooonk—”

Fuming, Mingming stormed out of the house to clear her head.

As she walked, her thoughts turned crooked again.

She bumped into Wang Erniu from next door, and after checking with the system that nothing bad would befall him in the near future, she casually greeted him and passed on. At the village entrance, she ran into Xiwa. The system told her that this month he’d get drunk, fall into a ditch, and sleep there all night. He wouldn’t die, but he’d end up with a stroke and partial paralysis.

That was a big case. Mingming asked the system for more details about him and quickly got to work on her scam.

“Well, well, Xiwa. Haven’t seen you in a few days—you’ve grown taller again.”

Xiwa, twenty-three years old, five-foot-two, loved nothing more than being told he’d grown taller. He had absolute faith in that old saying, “Men can keep growing until twenty-three.”

Sure enough, when Mingming praised him, his face lit up with joy. Then Mingming studied him carefully, her expression suddenly turning serious.

“What’s… what’s wrong, Juan-mei?” he stammered.

“These past few days, haven’t you been tossing and turning at night, hard to wake up in the morning, and then every time you want to nap at noon, you’re running to the toilet—urging, frequent, and never feeling done?”

Xiwa’s face flushed crimson. He stuttered, “H-how… how do you know that?”

Mingming pointed skyward, smiling. “Heaven’s secrets can’t be leaked.”

“I can also see that within this month, you’ll face a disaster. As for how to avoid it… don’t worry, I have a talisman here, properly blessed. The price is negotiable. But—there’s one condition. You can’t drink alcohol this month. If you do not, not even the Bodhisattva can save you…”

Just then, Yan Junsheng returned from the back mountain. From a distance, he thought Chen Chanjua was just chatting idly with a neighbor. But as he got closer and heard what she was saying, alarms went off in his head. He rushed forward and pulled her away.

“Brother Xiwa, don’t listen to her nonsense. But she’s right about one thing—don’t drink too much. What if you drink yourself silly and can’t even find your way home?”

“Ah, y-yes, that’s true.” Xiwa still looked baffled. “But what about the talisman—”

Dragged along, Mingming still turned back every few steps to call out, “No drinking this month, you hear me? Don’t drink! As for the talisman, forget it. If your heart is sincere, the Bodhisattva will still protect you through this disaster—mmph mmph—”

“Alright, alright, let’s go home. I’ll make you something tasty,” Yan Junsheng cut her off, twisting her around, one arm around her waist and the other covering her mouth as he steered her home. His coaxing tone was even smoother than hers had been with Xiwa.

Mingming: “…”

He let her go only after they’d walked a good ten meters.

“In this day and age of science, what are you doing peddling feudal superstition?” He tapped her on the head. “Have you lost your mind?”

Sulking, Mingming followed him home, muttering under her breath, “If you’re so afraid of being dragged down by me, then just divorce me. We’re bound to split sooner or later anyway…”

“What did you say?” He hadn’t caught it.

“Nothing. Thank you, Young Master Yan, for stopping me from digging my own grave.”

Yan Junsheng frowned. “Speak properly.”

She shot him a glance. “Where did you just come from, anyway?”

“I went up the back mountain to clear away the brambles and dead branches—at least opened a path, so certain people won’t end up tearing their clothes to shreds every time they climb.”

Mingming remembered her ripped clothes from last time, the ones Junsheng had stayed up late at night sewing back together on the treadle machine. She fell silent.

He’s a good man. I shouldn’t be so petty with him. This whole mess started because I forced the marriage… Damn it, why should I be paying for the crap Chen Chanjua did?!

Back home, seeing her still pouting, Junsheng pulled a piece of fruit from the basket, rinsed it, and handed it to her. “Picked this on the mountain. Pretty sweet. Try it.”

Mingming eyed the fruit, then him, not too confident in a city boy’s judgment of wild berries. When she didn’t take it, Junsheng just held it up to her lips, a trace of amusement in his eyes. “Go on, taste it.”

She bit off a small piece, already planning that if it wasn’t sweet, she’d spit it right back into his hand.

Juice welled from the bite and ran down onto his fingers, but he didn’t mind, still holding it up to her mouth.

She chewed—sweet.

So she opened her mouth for another bite.

His smile deepened as she ate. She forgot to take it from him and ended up finishing the whole fruit straight from his hand.

When it was gone, he tossed the pit aside, washed his hands, and turned back to see her on tiptoe, peeking into the basket, lips smacking in aftertaste.

He couldn’t help but chuckle. “There are a few more at the bottom. I’ll wash some later for you to have in the afternoon.”

“Okay!” she agreed cheerfully.

“On the way back, I ran into your dad. He wants us over for dinner tonight.”

“Oh.”

“…Did he say what we’re having?”

“Nope.”

“Oh.”

That afternoon, with nothing else to do, the two of them strolled over to Chen Weiguo’s house. He was stacking firewood when they arrived, but quickly put it down to welcome them.

“Dad,” Mingming called.

Junsheng didn’t call him anything, just gave a polite nod.

Weiguo didn’t mind, still warm and enthusiastic. “Junsheng, come on in. I bought some soda and canned fruit from the supply store the other day, and I fried some beans this morning. You and Juan’er go enjoy.”

“What kind of canned fruit? Yellow peaches?” Mingming perked up. She really wanted to taste those old-time canned fruits in syrup—surely they’d be leagues better than the artificial saccharine versions from decades later.

“No yellow peaches, just tangerines!” Weiguo wiped the sweat from his brow. “But I heard the co-op is getting pineapple and water chestnut cans soon. I’ll buy you some to try then.”

“Great!”

Mingming twisted open the jar of canned tangerine slices. The lid was tough; she strained so hard her face contorted. Just as Junsheng reached out to help, she gave it one last twist—and it popped open.

He withdrew his half-raised hand.

She scooped out a slice and tasted it. “So sweet!” Her eyes lit up. She patted Junsheng. “When we finish these, save the syrup. We’ll soak some tomatoes in it—or that fruit you picked today. Bet it’ll be even better than water chestnuts.”

Junsheng gave a small grunt, teasing her, “You’ve never even eaten canned water chestnuts. How would you know they’re not better?”

If they were really that good, she thought, they’d still be as popular as peach cans decades later.

No way they beat sweet, syrupy tomatoes.

When she was a kid at the orphanage, that had been everyone’s favorite treat. It still was for her.

“I just know.”

He only smiled at her, saying nothing.

From the side, Weiguo watched the two of them together and felt relieved.