CHAPTER 5 

Su Yin stared at the young man who had appeared before her. Tall and solid as a mountain, he sat astride the bicycle, his lazy gaze locked on the paper in her hand.

She remembered the day he’d beaten Hou Jianguo black and blue, and thought of how the book had described him. Sensibly, she handed over the paper.

“Here.”

Her voice was clear and crisp, like a summer evening breeze—without the heat, with just a hint of coolness.

Gu Cheng’an took it in one hand, snapped it open, and his eyes swept over a section in quick, practiced lines. In barely a moment, the paper was folded again with a sharp crack and returned to her.

“Thanks.”

And with that, before she could react, he parked his bicycle in the courtyard and strode into the house without another glance her way.

Su Yin exhaled slightly in relief, then flipped open the paper where she remembered his gaze lingering. All she found was an article titled: A Technical Summary of Large-Scale Pig Farming.

Baffled, she headed inside. After putting the paper and her newly bought pen and notebook upstairs, she came back down—only to hear the sounds of a heated argument between grandfather and grandson.

Grandpa Gu was a man of authority; the only person in the house who dared argue with him was Gu Cheng’an. Even Gu Cheng’an’s father wouldn’t have the nerve.

“Yinyin, come over here,” Grandpa Gu’s tone softened when he saw her. “This is my grandson, Gu Cheng’an. He’s a year older than you. You can call him Cheng’an-ge. Cheng’an, this is Su Yin—your Grandpa Su’s granddaughter. She’s a year younger than you, so you can just call her ‘Meimei.’”

“Cheng’an-ge,” Su Yin greeted politely.

Gu Cheng’an had just finished trading words with his grandfather—mostly over his distaste for this arranged marriage. Now that the girl was standing right there, he didn’t so much as glance at her.

Only when Grandpa Gu’s brows knit did he give a reluctant “Mm.”

“Honestly, you come home only to provoke me!”

“Grandpa, the way you’re talking makes it sound like I’ve committed some great crime. Want me to leave right now?” Gu Cheng’an’s mouth quirked in a half-smile, his tone laced with careless defiance.

“Don’t you dare!” Grandpa Gu barked. “You’ll stay home. Yinyin’s only been here a few days—talk to her, you young people should get to know each other.”

He knew his grandson’s stubborn streak well enough; push too hard and it would only backfire.

Seeing that they might start up again at any second, Su Yin slipped into the kitchen to help.

….

Inside, Qian Jingfang was discussing summer meals with Aunt Wu.

“The weather’s getting hotter and hotter, and Dad’s appetite isn’t great. We should stick to lighter dishes.”

“But the old master says everything tastes bland as bird food,” Aunt Wu repeated his exact words.

“We still can’t let him get used to too much oil or salt. Let’s see if we can make something both light and flavorful…”

Running the household was no easy task for Qian Jingfang. With Gu Kangcheng busy at the military district, she had to look after her in-laws. Cheng’an’s grandmother had gone to stay with the second uncle recently—there was always something to manage.

“Auntie Qian, maybe add some heat-clearing foods to the menu? And if there’s time, Grandpa Gu could get a checkup at the hospital,” Su Yin suggested. She remembered from the book that Grandpa Gu’s liver illness had been discovered too late. Noticing the two women looking at her, she quickly explained, “My grandpa wasn’t in great health either. There was a barefoot doctor in our village whose family practiced traditional medicine—he said so.”

“Mm, that makes sense,” Qian Jingfang nodded. She’d heard from Aunt Wu and the guards that her father-in-law had lingering health issues from years of battle injuries. She’d simply never thought to look at it from this angle. Even if nothing serious showed up, a checkup couldn’t hurt.

….

The next day, Aunt Wu’s back was acting up, and Su Yin volunteered to help wash and chop vegetables. Since she was staying at the Gu household, she’d occasionally lend a hand—but always within limits, lest Aunt Wu take offense.

Aunt Wu had been a housekeeper for decades, and cooking was her life’s work. She was happy to let Su Yin help with prep work, but insisted on holding the spatula herself.

After just two rounds of chopping, Aunt Wu noticed something: Su Yin’s knife skills were… good.

The girl sliced the cured pork into even, glistening slices—fat gleaming, lean meat a rich brown. Then tap-tap-tap, she cut them into neat little cubes, each piece catching the light. With diced carrots, corn, and green peas tossed into the pan, the fragrance began to rise.

She stole another glance at the girl. Beautiful—undeniably so. Aunt Wu had been in the compound for over twenty years, and she could say with confidence that Su Yin was prettier than any other young woman there. But so what?

Considering Madam Qian and Gu Cheng’an’s attitudes, it was hardly certain this girl could marry in.

Still… watching Su Yin’s efficient hands, Aunt Wu felt a flicker of unease. Was she trying to win over the old master by cooking—and maybe replace her in the kitchen?

She rubbed her back and got back to work. “Looks like you’ve done plenty of chores at home—your hands are quick.”

Perhaps sensing the thought behind her words, Su Yin smiled lightly. “It was just me and my grandpa at home. We ate simply, so I only know a couple of dishes. You’re the real expert, Aunt Wu. I’ve learned so much in just a few days—and everything you make tastes amazing.”

When praised for her cooking, Aunt Wu straightened her back, lifted her chin, and thought the little girl’s mouth was really sweet.
“After all, I’ve lived over forty years and been working since I was little… You’re not bad either. I could smell your dishes from here—they’re quite fragrant.”

A few easy compliments from Su Yin had Aunt Wu grinning from ear to ear. She was a simple sort—nothing made her happier than being told her cooking was good.

“Aunt Wu, in this summer heat, eating too much meat gets cloying. If you dice it up for stir-fries, it’s less greasy. And if you make a pot of pumpkin and mung bean soup on the side, it should be perfect to cut through the richness. I noticed Grandpa Gu seems a bit overheated these past couple of days. Something light and cooling might make him feel more comfortable.”

“Overheated?” Aunt Wu thought for a moment. She hadn’t noticed—after all, the old man always looked like he was ready to flare up about something. Still, it wouldn’t hurt, so she nodded and bustled back into the kitchen like a spinning top.

—

Ever since Gu Cheng’an had been “dragged” home, the old man had kept a close eye on him. Having just caused a ruckus a few days ago, he didn’t dare stir up trouble again and could only behave, sitting down to play chess with his grandfather.

“That temper of yours needs some polishing,” Grandpa Gu said as his knight jumped to take one of his grandson’s elephants.

Leisurely considering his next move, Gu Cheng’an sacrificed a pawn to save his rook, propped his chin on one hand, and said lazily, “Grandpa, aren’t I the one who takes after you the most?”

“There you go, poking at me again…” Grandpa Gu had to admit, there was some truth to it. Among his eight grandchildren, Gu Cheng’an ranked fourth and had the wildest, most headstrong temperament—untamed and ungovernable, yet quick-witted to boot.
“When you start work next month, you’d better put in the effort and learn properly. Stop fooling around all the time.”

“Got it, got it. Of course. I’m always ready to serve the people.”

“And another thing—Su Yin’s had it rough. Your engagement to her was arranged by me back then…”

At that, Gu Cheng’an immediately perked up, his back straightening.
“Grandpa, feudal thinking has got to go! What did the Great Leader say? Smash the Four Olds! We can’t go against the Great Leader’s instructions!”

Grandpa Gu shot him a glare. “You’re quick with that tongue of yours. But if you dare bully her, I won’t let you off…”

“I never bully women,” Gu Cheng’an replied lazily.

And indeed, he didn’t bully them—he just ignored them. In the two days Su Yin had been here, he hadn’t so much as cast her a glance. They’d had exactly zero contact.

When the chess match ended, Aunt Wu brought out two bowls of pumpkin and mung bean soup—one chilled until it was faintly misted with cold vapor.

“You two must be tired from playing chess. Have some soup to cool off.”

The golden pumpkin had been simmered until it melted at the touch, the mung beans cooked soft and fragrant. Grandpa Gu’s bowl was at room temperature, a gentle coolness spreading through him with each spoonful, as if it carried away all the heat from his body. He gave a long, contented sigh.

“This is perfect for weather like this.” He narrowed his eyes in satisfaction.

Gu Cheng’an’s chilled soup was even more refreshing than an icy bottle of Arctic Ocean soda. He smiled broadly.
“Aunt Wu, you’re always so thoughtful, and your cooking’s the best. We couldn’t get by without you in the house.”

“Oh, listen to you—such a sweet talker.” Aunt Wu’s eyes crinkled with delight. Then she remembered how Su Yin had been helping her out in the kitchen all day without taking any credit and added,
“This was actually Yinyin’s idea. I wouldn’t have thought of it myself. That girl’s very attentive.”

Looking down at his pumpkin and mung bean soup, Gu Cheng’an suddenly felt… like drinking it was awkward, and not drinking it was awkward too.

—

Life at the Gu household soon settled into a rhythm for Su Yin. The family was kind and took good care of her. Even Gu Cheng’an—who hated arranged marriages most of all—merely ignored her. All in all, things were bearable.

She spent her days reading, helping Aunt Wu in the kitchen—though she was careful not to overstep. Aunt Wu was particular about being the head cook.

But inside the military compound’s family quarters, rumors about her were running wild.

Gu Cheng’an had a prestigious family background and outstanding looks—he was already a hot commodity. Now that word had gotten out that his betrothed had arrived in the city, the news spread quickly. Few had seen her, but everyone knew that Liu Maoyuan had driven a sedan to pick her up that day. Some even claimed to have glimpsed her shabby, country-style clothing from behind.

Curiosity bred gossip.

“Why would Old Leader Gu arrange a country girl for his grandson? Isn’t that ruining the boy?”

“What a waste. I caught a look at her that day—didn’t see her face, but judging from her clothes, she can’t be much to look at.”

One aunt, overhearing this, wasn’t pleased. “You didn’t see her face. Maybe she’s as pretty as a fairy.”

“Pfft! As if! She’s from the countryside—working in the fields every day. How could she be good-looking?”

“Exactly.”

On one side, the gossip was in full swing. On the other, Mrs. Hou—wife of Commissar Hou Bing—happened to pass by and perked right up.

Just a few days ago, she’d gone to the Gu household to lodge a complaint, only to get scolded instead. The next day, she’d been forced to go and apologize—utter humiliation.

Well, this was a perfect chance to get some of her dignity back.

She might not dare cross the Gus, but a country bumpkin? That was fair game.

So she raised her voice and cut in,
“I saw her at the Gus’ that day. Pretty? Not at all. Yellow skin, all skin and bones, and her mouth’s crooked. I couldn’t figure out why the Gus would arrange such a match for their grandson.”

With that one sentence, the “fact” that Gu Cheng’an’s fiancée was a hideous country girl seemed set in stone.

Rumors spread quickly in the compound. By the time they reached Gu Cheng’an that afternoon, he was in a run-down building with a group of compound boys, playing poker.

After behaving himself for three whole days, he’d finally slipped out to have some fun.

“An-ge, is it true your fiancée’s super ugly? We feel for you, man.”

“Yeah, they’re saying she’s got a crooked mouth and slanted eyes. Your grandpa’s not actually gonna force you to marry her, is he?”

Holding a hand of cards in his left hand and idly spinning a lighter in his right, Gu Cheng’an finally reacted. Crooked mouth? Slanted eyes? Super ugly?

The first image that popped into his mind was that moment on the day they met—Su Yin glancing up at him in surprise, those dewy apricot eyes seeming to speak without a word.

No matter how much he disliked the engagement, he couldn’t bring himself to call her ugly.

Still… what did it have to do with him? Did they really think he’d give in?

In a flash, he casually tossed out two cards.
“Quit your nonsense — pair of twos.”

His group of buddies looked at him — really, this was like the eunuchs getting anxious before the emperor did. They couldn’t help but wonder… in the future, who would be the one holding an ugly wife and crying about it?