Chapter 3: The Newlywed Couple’s First Meal
The girl who swindled all of Qingyan’s money was named Wang Yan (王妍*). She disliked this name for being too soft, so in informal settings, she writes it as “Wang Yan” (王岩).
*T/N: 妍 means beautiful; 岩 means cliff/rock
Qingyan didn’t particularly like her at first. He had no true friends by his side, only Wang Yan, who would pat his shoulder and curse him after two bottles of beer, calling him a fool and the most sensitive and petty person she knew.
Wang Yan borrowed money from Qingyan twice, but Qingyan never borrowed from her.
Later, when she hadn’t been drinking and was clear-headed, she pointed at him and scolded him for being overly sensitive and stingy, annoying to everyone who met him, and deserved to have no friends.
Afterward, somehow, they started dating.
Qingyan was too lonely.
He lost his parents when he was seven or eight years old, and his grandmother who raised him passed away when he was fifteen or sixteen. He really wanted a family.
Wang Yan said she found a good house, so she asked Qingyan for money. Qingyan went to see it and, although expensive, he was satisfied. So he transferred the money to Wang Yan to arrange for the contract signing.
Later, Wang Yan said they needed to prepare well for the wedding. Qingyan meticulously calculated the money by checking her shopping cart and transferred it to her one by one.
Afterwards, Wang Yan said she had a lung polyp and needed surgery. Qingyan transferred the last of his money from his bank account.
Later… there wasn’t much of a later.
Qingyan happened to see his fiancée and another man kissing on the street. He recognized the man; he was the previous owner of the house he had bought.
He glanced at them and walked away.
He didn’t know what he felt. In the more than a year they had been together, they had only held hands at most, maybe hugged occasionally. Normally, Wang Yan spoke to him in a strong manner; he had never seen this vulnerable side of her.
After not seeing each other for a week, when Wang Yan came to find him, Qingyan confronted her.
Wang Yan lowered her head in silence for a while, then said, “I’m dying soon. I was diagnosed with lung cancer before I met you. He’s the one I met in the hospital, and he has the same illness as me.”
Qingyan looked at her in surprise. Wang Yan said, “Both of us are the mainstays of our families. If we die, our families will have no one left. So we discussed making some money before we die.”
Qingyan sneered, “He’s clever, making you do the dirty work while he stays out of it.”
Wang Yan shook her head, “No, he found another wealthy girl too. But that girl was sharp and sensed something was wrong, so she distanced herself from him.”
Qingyan turned away and sneered, “So I’m the only fool here.”
Tears welled up in Wang Yan’s eyes.
“Qingyan, you’re a good person. I’m sorry. Hit me if you want, but don’t kill me. If you kill me, you’ll have to take responsibility.”
Qingyan didn’t hit her; he just drove her away.
Later, he secretly pretended to be from the property management and went to see the house. In the master bedroom lay two elderly people who couldn’t get out of bed; their features resembled Wang Yan’s. In the second bedroom lived an old lady who made a living selling vegetables, accompanied by a three or four-year-old child who bore a striking resemblance to the former owner of the house.
Originally, he had planned to turn the room into a wardrobe for Wang Yan, but instead, he rented it to a family of three who lived nearby and had a child preparing for the college entrance exam.
The house was the same as when he last came, except this time Wang Yan had arranged for everyone to leave ahead of time.
After looking around, Qingyan went back to bed and lay there all day, murmuring to himself, “Anyway, it’s not my own earnings. Let’s just say I didn’t win the lottery; let’s say I did a good deed.”
Unable to bear it in the evening, he went to the bar on an empty stomach and had a heavy drink.
After drinking, he was hit by a big truck and arrived in this world.
Qingyan sat on the stool, tilting his head back, gently closing his eyes, feeling the warm towel brushing across his face.
On his shoulder was a worn-out coat just brought over from the house by a man. It was quite large and belonged to the man himself.
Qingyan could smell the warm, soapy scent and a faint aroma of cooking oil coming from the man who was stooped over, gently wiping his face. It made him feel at ease.
After his face was wiped clean, Qingyan opened his eyes. His bright eyes stared steadily at the man in front of him, wet with tears, full of trust and dependence. He smiled sweetly, revealing his neat, white teeth, and said softly, “Thank you, husband.”
As soon as he straightened up, he immediately turned his head, and only the side of the man who was relatively intact faced him. The man with tightly pursed lips finally spoke, “Let’s eat.”
Qingyan was about to get up, but the man who had already turned away stopped in his tracks and didn’t look back. “Did your father ever tell you my name?”
At these words, Qingyan was slightly stunned, then quickly realized. He looked at the side of the man’s head, his gaze once again sweeping over the characters on his profile, and then slowly uttered two soft words, “Henian.”
Qiu Henian’s shoulder moved slightly, and with a deep voice, he lightly responded with a “Hmm,” giving Qingyan, the bride from the modern world who appeared calm but was actually nervous inside, a reassuring response.
The man turned around to fetch the porridge. The row of characters on his head was still so bright: Qiu Henian, Liuxi Village’s blacksmith, followed by parentheses with the words (unknown identity).
Qingyan lingered on the four words “unknown identity” for a while. When Qiu Henian calmly carried the porridge back, he quickly withdrew his gaze.
The dining table was not far from the stove, with a plate of steamed white bread, shredded pork stir-fried with bean sprouts, a plate of pickled vegetables that couldn’t be identified, and a large bowl of rice porridge for each person. That was today’s breakfast.
It wasn’t as good as Qingyan’s usual meals, but according to the memories of the original owner in his mind, here, rice, flour, and pork were usually only available during the Chinese New Year. This meal was already considered luxurious.
And Qingyan was really hungry. He looked at the steamed white bread, his eyes sparkling like a hungry stray cat in the village.
Before Qiu Henian sat down, he glanced at him, then turned to the cupboard and took out a bowl. From inside, he scooped a spoonful of red sugar into Qingyan’s porridge bowl.
Before Qingyan could react, he reached out and uncovered a bowl that was tightly covered on the table, inside of which were two boiled eggs. He broke the shells of the two eggs, peeled them off neatly, and put them all into the empty bowl in front of Qingyan.
Qingyan lowered his head and looked at them. Qiu Henian didn’t put sugar in his own porridge; perhaps he wasn’t used to it being too sweet. But eating both eggs alone wasn’t very good. He picked up one of the eggs and put it in the man’s bowl, a move that hurt him. He held back without showing his teeth and nearly cried.
Qiu Henian didn’t appreciate it and took it out, put it back in front of Qingyan, and blocked his bowl with his hand before he could put it back again.
In a low voice, he said, “Neighbor Aunt Li gave you ten eggs to nourish you. Don’t keep them. Boil two every morning and eat them. I’ll buy them again after you finish them.”
Qingyan subconsciously retorted, “I’m fine. I don’t need to be nourished…”
When Qiu Henian looked up at him, Qingyan was dumbfounded. He saw the red eggshells that had been stripped off the table, the red sugar that hadn’t fully melted in his bowl, the scattered dates and longans around the bed just now, and sparks flashed all the way through his mind.
Suddenly, he understood the true meaning of “nourishment,” and suddenly his face turned red and he was in trouble. A word couldn’t jump out of his mouth.
Red sugar and red eggs were for nourishing Qingyan.
As for why he needed nourishment, of course, it was because he was lacking.
Why would a perfectly good person lack energy and blood?
Of course, it was because of last night…
Qingyan suddenly realized what had happened last night and felt embarrassed and a little guilty.
Even the big steamed bread he had been thinking about in front of him wasn’t fragrant anymore, and his face turned red.
He stole a glance at the man’s collar.
Last night, when he couldn’t stand it anymore, he bit the man’s chest hard. At that time, he felt a mouthful of blood.
That bite must have been particularly painful. Qingyan was still worried about whether the wound had been treated and if it would get infected. Medical care in this era wasn’t great, and even a small problem could be serious.
But Qingyan didn’t think it was all his fault.
He was quite “excited” at first because the medicine in his body had taken effect. Although the man wasn’t very skillful and started off roughly, Qingyan felt quite “quenched.” But as the medicine wore off, Qingyan couldn’t stand it anymore.
Unfortunately, the man was particularly enduring. Qingyan begged him, and although he tried to be gentle, he couldn’t control himself when he got excited again.
Later, Qingyan bit him hard, and cried so hard he couldn’t catch his breath before the man reluctantly finished.
After it was over, Qingyan had been crying the whole time. Feeling the man wiping himself with hot water and putting on a robe, he fell asleep exhausted.
Thinking of this, Qingyan no longer felt guilty, feeling that he deserved to enjoy this “blood-nourishing meal” alone.
The white porridge had sugar added, making it very sweet.
Qingyan didn’t particularly like sweet foods, but on a winter morning, drinking such a warm bowl of sweet porridge made his stomach feel particularly comfortable.
The steamed bread was fermented just right, white and soft, with a strong aroma of the most primitive wheat. The shredded pork stir-fried with bean sprouts wasn’t greasy; the bean sprouts were crisp and tender, easy to chew. The pork was much tastier than any Qingyan had eaten before; these were pigs raised without additives.
Qingyan started by eating an egg on an empty stomach. The egg white was almost translucent, and the yolk was so golden it looked like it could drip oil; it was too delicious, and he quickly finished the egg in a few bites.
For the second egg, Qingyan cracked it in half and added one half to his porridge. Glancing at the man sitting silently opposite him, he got up and stuffed the other half into the man’s porridge bowl.
Qiu Henian glanced at him, this time not refusing, and ate the porridge and egg together.
Qingyan smiled quietly, picked up a piece of pickled vegetable from the plate, and immediately wrinkled his face as the sourness made his head buzz.
A large hand appeared palm-up in front of him, and a deep voice said, “Spit it out.”
Qingyan found it too disgusting to spit out, so he shook his head and reluctantly chewed and swallowed the pickled vegetable. Just now he had seen Qiu Henian eating like this, with steamed bread and pieces of pickled vegetables, which looked especially appetizing, but it ended up making his teeth ache.
As soon as he swallowed, he hurriedly looked for water, and Qiu Henian had already added half a bowl of porridge and handed it to him.
Qingyan tilted his head back and gulped it down, finally feeling better. If it were someone else, they would have been done by now, but since he was a child, he didn’t let himself feel any discomfort.
He stuck out his tongue and leaned towards Qiu Henian, asking vaguely, “Could you check if my tongue is damaged? Why does it hurt a bit?”
Qiu Henian glanced at it and quickly turned his head away, saying, “It’s nothing. I’ll pour you some water to rinse.”
Qingyan didn’t notice his unnatural expression and followed closely behind him. When he got the water bowl, drank it all, and stuck to someone else’s body, Qiu Henian had been trying to avoid facing or sideways to him, preventing him from seeing the half of his face covered with scars. At this moment, he couldn’t help but turn around helplessly, looking sideways, grabbing his shoulder to reassure him, “It’s just pickled radish with vinegar. You’ll be fine.”
After saying that, he asked, “Are you full?”
Qingyan nodded, and Qiu Henian released his shoulder, gently pushing him, saying, “Go back to rest.”
Qingyan didn’t leave, pretending to be polite, “I’ll wash the dishes…”
Qiu Henian had already bent down, supporting his knees with one hand and embracing his shoulders with the other, like holding a little rabbit, effortlessly lifting him up.
Losing balance, Qingyan instinctively reached out and clasped the other’s neck, sinking into the warm embrace.
Despite the not-so-good experience in bed last night, this extremely intimate behavior seemed to make Qingyan feel an indescribable dependence and closeness to this man. He obediently leaned against the man, letting him gently lay him down on the bed.
Then, in a low voice, the man said, “I won’t go to the shop for these two days; I’ll handle the housework.”
After saying that, he went to the outer room.
With the warmth leaving, Qingyan grabbed the blanket and covered himself, lying on the bed in a daze, trying not to touch the sore spots on his body.
Although he was tired all over, just as he was about to fall asleep, Qingyan suddenly jerked awake, involuntarily pulling on his back, grimacing and muttering quietly, “What did he just say? He’s not going to work these days? What’s a grown man doing not going to work and staying home?”
“Damn,” Qingyan cursed under his breath, “Is this his version of a honeymoon? What else can you do staying at home every day?”
He answered himself, “Fuck me! Damn!”
Qingyan was sweating all over his body!
Spoiler for the Next Chapter:
He was confident that he and Qiu Henian could make their life better together.
