Chapter 20.1

Not far from the Bali Street post office stood the department store, a three-story building. In a neighborhood filled with dilapidated single-story houses, it was considered a high-rise.

At the entrance, a tall and slender young man with gold-rimmed glasses spoke impatiently to a middle-aged woman in her forties. “Mom, I’m working. Why are you asking me to take leave?”

“You’re already a department head—who’s going to control you? Just go and meet her, then come back. Let me tell you, this time, the girl is stunning. The matchmaker guaranteed you’d fall for her at first sight.”

A smirk of disdain appeared on the young man’s fair face. A girl working as a maid? Someone who does manual labor all day—how good could she possibly look? He, Fang Jungui, was a well-known figure in both the state-run restaurant and department store. If word got out that he had to settle for a maid, people would laugh at him.

“It’s fine if her job isn’t great; we can arrange one for her. But you have to at least meet her. The matchmaker vouched for this girl—she’s even skilled in a craft.”

“A guarantee?” Fang Jungui sneered. Every matchmaker exaggerated before introductions. Every single girl he had met so far had fallen for him at first sight, but unfortunately, he had never found any of them appealing. Either they were too short, too ugly, had rough hands like washboards, feet as big as boats, or lacked the intellect to hold a meaningful conversation. That’s why he was still single at twenty-seven.

“Just listen to me and take a quick look. If you like her, I’ll immediately talk to her family and finalize the wedding. If you don’t, we’ll just go through the motions. Son, this matchmaker is reliable—it’s not like those poor relatives from your father’s side. She’s from the military district compound.”

“Who?”

“That logistics officer, Xiao Sun’s wife. Your dad works at the Grain Bureau, and Sun Changwei often deals with him.”

“The same woman who came to me asking to buy discounted stock from the warehouse?” He recalled that woman had bought a lot of clearance fabric, some defective but high-quality wool, kettles, shoes, and other household goods. Because they were clearance items, they didn’t require ration coupons. She had spent over 300 yuan in one go and had a sharp eye for picking the best of the defective goods.

“Yes, that’s her. Jungui, you’re already twenty-seven, and you’ll be twenty-eight next year. I only have one son—if you keep delaying marriage… ‘Among the three unfilial acts, not producing offspring is the worst…’”

“Alright, alright, enough already. I’m not marrying a maid.”

…

Wenxin had barely stepped out of the military district gate with Sun Changwei’s wife when she started feeling regret. Was she really using her looks to secure a business connection just to sell some products?

It wouldn’t be an issue if she found the guy attractive, but what if she didn’t? Would the connection still hold?

After all, the control over this sales channel lay entirely in the other party’s hands. In this era, there were no contracts or legal assurances—if she refused the match, the channel would be cut off. Did that mean she’d have to fake a marriage just to keep it?

But it was too late to back out now. They were already halfway there. If she changed her mind now, Sun Changwei’s wife would have a hard time explaining things. Wenxin scratched her forehead, steeled herself, and decided to just go through with it and figure things out later.

As she was lost in thought, Sun Changwei’s wife excitedly pointed ahead. “We’re here! It’s that house with the willow tree. It’s the groom’s aunt’s place—close to his workplace, so they chose to meet here. Come on, they’re already waving at us.”

Wenxin quickly adjusted her posture and followed closely behind.

Meanwhile, the groom’s mother had to practically drag Fang Jungui from the department store—despite it being only a 200-meter walk. By the time they arrived, the girl and the matchmaker hadn’t yet arrived, and Fang Jungui was already impatiently tapping his foot. His mother was really wasting his time—dragging him to meet a maid, making him wait on top of that? He had plenty of opportunities to marry women with good jobs and good looks, yet here he was, being forced into this.

“They’re here, they’re here! Hurry up, go outside and greet them!” The groom’s aunt, who had been keeping watch, rushed inside, urging them to move quickly.

Liu Juan, Fang Jungui’s mother, reminded him sternly, “No matter what, you’d better not show a sour face in front of the matchmaker. Even if you have to fake a smile, keep it up until the end. Whether you like her or not, discuss it afterward.”

Normally, it was customary for the groom’s family to visit the bride’s home since the man was the one making the proposal. However, because her son was highly sought after and extremely picky, they had no choice but to make the girl come to them. Most girls, upon hearing that Fang Jungui was a department store manager, agreed readily.

After all, in this era, jobs at the meatpacking plant and department store were the most sought-after positions. People fought tooth and nail to get in. Women were more than willing to come to him—it was just that her son had rejected every single one so far.

At this point, Fang Jungui just wanted to go through the motions and leave. He swore that next time, he’d tell his mother upfront—he would no longer consider any woman who wasn’t a formal employee. It was a complete waste of his time.

Stepping out the door, he saw a small group gathered under the willow tree. His mother and aunt were the first to greet them with beaming smiles, engaging in friendly conversation with the matchmaker.

Fang Jungui, on the other hand, wore an expression of pure impatience.

But then, as he lifted his gaze, he suddenly caught sight of a stunning woman in a flowing white dress, her black hair framing her delicate face, lips painted a soft red, standing there with a gentle smile.

In that moment, his heart rippled with excitement. Almost instinctively, he adjusted his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

People in this era had been accustomed to drab, muted tones for so long that they rarely dared to wear bright colors. Everywhere he looked, it was the same sea of gray, black, and blue. Most people appeared sallow or gaunt, their faces either darkened by the sun or so thin their cheeks were hollow. Some looked downright impoverished, while the rare fair-skinned individuals tended to be overweight and unattractive.

The woman before him was like a vibrant splash of color in an otherwise dull and gray life—pure yet irresistibly alluring. In an instant, she captivated his entire attention.

When the matchmaker introduced him, she glanced at him with a smile, her lips gently curving. At that moment, he felt as if an invisible hand had plucked at his heartstrings.

He was completely entranced by her beauty and charm, lost in the moment. It wasn’t until his mother, Liu Juan, nudged him that he snapped back to reality. Under her gaze, he felt a bit nervous and instinctively adjusted his glasses. “You—you must be tired. Let’s go inside and talk.” Saying this, he quickly stepped aside, eager to usher Wen Xin into the house.

A mother knows her son best. Liu Juan instantly recognized the signs—her son was smitten.

Otherwise, he wouldn’t be acting so courteous.

She was overjoyed, practically elated. She stepped forward and took hold of Wen Xin’s hand. The moment she touched it, she noticed how soft and delicate it was, like it had never been subjected to hard labor.

She sighed inwardly. Women this beautiful were usually spoiled and not keen on working. But so what? As long as her son liked her, as long as she could bear children for the Fang family, she’d be treated like royalty. Liu Juan held Wen Xin’s hand tightly and warmly inquired about her well-being.

She even took a moment to glance down—such fair and smooth hands, slender fingers, and small dimples on the back of her hands. People often said that women with these dimples would be cherished by their husbands and never suffer.

If Wen Xin married into the Fang family, she’d never have to lift a finger.

Everything was falling into place. Fang Jungui’s aunt and several other relatives enthusiastically welcomed Wen Xin into the house.

…

Wen Xin felt a bit dazed. She had initially been curious, but now…

She thought this was just a casual meeting in a public place to get acquainted. She hadn’t expected to be brought to the man’s relative’s home, surrounded by a dozen people—inside and outside—who scrutinized her like a spotlight trying to uncover every detail about her. Her smile was beginning to feel stiff.

Among them, a woman in her forties—apparently the mother of her matchmaking prospect—kept squeezing her hands, occasionally pinching her arms. Wen Xin was very ticklish, her skin highly sensitive, yet the woman suddenly reached out and squeezed her glutes—sculpted from two years of deep squats at the gym.

The woman then laughed in delight and announced to the others, “This girl has good childbearing hips!”

Laughter erupted among the women in the room.

Wen Xin: “…”

She turned to look at the matchmaking prospect and found him staring at her with burning intensity.

Wen Xin: “…”

To be honest, he wasn’t bad-looking—tall and lean with a refined appearance. He wore a Western-style jacket over a buttoned-up shirt, fastened all the way to his neck. To Wen Xin’s modern fashion sense, his outfit was painfully outdated—like someone clueless about coordination, pairing a Western suit with baggy pants and sneakers. But in this era, his attire was considered quite stylish.

He also wore gold-rimmed glasses. When his mother made that comment about childbearing hips, a faint blush crept onto his fair face, and he seemed to look at Wen Xin with even more anticipation.

Wen Xin: “…” She was starting to regret coming here.

She figured she’d just go through the motions and find an excuse to turn him down later. But somehow, his entire family seemed convinced that she had already taken a liking to him. They eagerly handed her candies and fruits, then nudged him to sit beside her, launching straight into discussions about marriage.

Wait—wasn’t this just a matchmaking meeting? Why did it feel like they were about to set the wedding date right then and there?!