But she couldn’t bear to spend money on meat for stews, not even on offal. With both elderly and young ones to support, her entire household relied solely on Old Chen’s meager salary. Unlike An Xin, a newlywed bride who didn’t understand the hardships of life, tossing Bai Yichen’s salary around frivolously.

Sure, Bai Yichen’s salary was higher than her husband’s, but at the rate An Xin spent, one month’s pay might not even cover her whims.

At that moment, An Xin was calmly adding firewood to the stove, completely unaware of the tangled thoughts in Mrs. Chen’s mind. She replied casually, “Oh, Sister Chen, are you making breakfast too? I’m preparing some soup dumplings for my husband.”

Since she was now married to Bai Yichen, she decided to adapt and call him her husband. Even if this marriage might not last long, she felt it was important to maintain the appearance of a good relationship in front of others.

Hearing this, Mrs. Chen’s tone immediately rose, her voice dripping with implication.
“Oh, soup dumplings again?”

Meat every single meal—this woman truly wasted resources!

Unlike her, who knew how to manage a household. Breakfast for her husband was simple: a bowl of hand-rolled noodles with an egg on top for extra nutrition. For herself, plain noodle soup was enough.

An Xin: “…”

Again? She hadn’t even made soup dumplings before. What was with this Sister Chen and her comments? Still, An Xin couldn’t miss the faint note of envy in her words.

Fine. Why bother arguing with an ignorant country woman? Pretending not to understand Mrs. Chen’s remark, An Xin simply added more firewood to the stove and went back inside.

Watching her leave, Mrs. Chen felt bored and turned her attention back to kneading her dough. But now, her hands moved with extra force, as if the dough had personally wronged her.

When Old Chen woke up, the first thing he saw was his wife furiously rolling out dough, attacking it with such vigor it seemed like she was trying to punish it. Puzzled, he asked, “What are you doing? Why are you rolling the dough so hard?”

Caught off guard, Mrs. Chen’s face briefly showed her unease before she replied nonchalantly, “Oh, just trying to finish quickly so it can cool down by the time you’re up to eat.”

“Oh…”

Old Chen gave a noncommittal grunt and glanced outside. Through the open door, he noticed two stoves lit at Bai Yichen’s house. One had a large steaming pot billowing with heat, while the other appeared to be cooking corn porridge, the bubbling kernels releasing a tantalizing aroma into the air.

Unable to help himself, he sighed. “Bai Yichen sure is lucky to have married someone like that. His wife makes him such delicious meals every day. You wouldn’t believe it—on the mountain, the team can’t stop eyeing the food he brings. They’d devour it all if they could.”

Recalling the mealtime scenes, Old Chen couldn’t help but admire An Xin’s skills. Every meal she prepared was different, each dish so flavorful it could make mouths water. Even he, a married man, looked forward to the small portions Bai Yichen shared with the team to savor the taste.

And now, bright and early, she was already making another gourmet breakfast. How could he not be envious? Why couldn’t his wife switch things up sometimes? Even a simple pancake would be a refreshing change from noodles every day.

Lost in his thoughts, Old Chen failed to notice his wife had stopped rolling dough. She stood, hands on hips, wielding her rolling pin like a weapon, glaring at him.

“So, what? You think marrying me was a mistake? Have I not fed you enough? Kept you warm enough?” she snapped.

Listening to him praise Bai Yichen’s wife and her abilities made it seem like she, Sister Chen (she likes to be called Sister Chen even though she is Mrs. Chen), was useless. If he was so impressed with An Xin, why didn’t he marry someone like her? Why didn’t he earn Bai Yichen’s salary? Then, maybe she’d pamper him with good food.

Old Chen, startled by her outburst, quickly backtracked. “Ah, don’t be mad, wife! I was just saying, nothing serious. You’re reading too much into it.”

He hadn’t realized his casual comment would hit a nerve. Now his wife was fuming, ready to pick a fight with her rolling pin.

Sigh. Life was all about fate. He’d married a fierce woman, while Bai Yichen ended up with someone gentle, beautiful, and skilled—a wife leagues ahead of his.

Meanwhile, oblivious to the near-explosive situation next door, An Xin was inside preparing hot water and toiletries for Bai Yichen. When she turned, she noticed him already awake and meticulously folding the blanket.

Seeing him take the initiative to handle household chores, An Xin had no complaints. Living under the same roof meant sharing responsibilities, and she certainly wasn’t going to play the part of a perfect housewife who managed everything alone.

If not for the guilt of derailing Bai Yichen’s promising future, she wouldn’t even bother taking care of him.

Despite her wandering thoughts, An Xin maintained a warm smile as she approached him. Their eyes met, his dark gaze steady and piercing.

Immediately, An Xin plastered on her most ingratiating expression and said, “You’re awake! Go wash up. I’ve already prepared hot water for you.”

For reasons she couldn’t explain, every time she met Bai Yichen’s deep, enigmatic gaze, her heart would race. It was as if those eyes were a bottomless pool, capable of pulling her in and leaving her mind blank.