Chapter 6: A Plate of Vegetables and a Sigh

Meanwhile, Wei Lan sat fuming on the crowded and bumpy public bus, her stomach full of anger as she made her way back to the family quarters. The bus was filled with a mix of unpleasant odors, and she was stuck in the middle of the crowd, growing even more irritated. Her mind was entirely occupied with thoughts of confronting her sister—she needed to find out why Mu Nanhe had suddenly gotten married.

As soon as she stepped into the family quarters, she was met with a lively commotion. Looking up, she saw a group of people gathered together, chatting animatedly. As she got closer and listened in, she realized they were all praising Yang Qingyan.

Wei Lan’s expression darkened instantly. Her nails dug deep into her palm as rage flared in her heart. I could have ridden in their car comfortably instead of squeezing into this stinking public bus, but Mu Nanhe had to be so heartless and refuse me! And now, the moment I get back, I have to listen to all these people singing praises about Yang Qingyan? How could she not be furious?

Gritting her teeth, she strode forward and forced a disdainful smile onto her face before loudly scoffing, “Hmph, who knows if she just got lucky? If she really had medical skills, why would she look like that? Just look at her—dressed in rags, pale and thin. Does she look like someone capable of anything, let alone a skilled doctor?”

As she spoke, she deliberately puffed out her chest, as if standing on some moral high ground, trying to overturn Yang Qingyan’s reputation with just a few words.

At her remarks, the previously enthusiastic chatter came to an abrupt halt. The crowd exchanged glances, some of them now looking hesitant. Someone muttered under their breath, “She does have a point… Yang Qingyan doesn’t really dress like someone who knows medicine.” Another person frowned slightly, seemingly reevaluating what they had witnessed the day before.

However, a few of the neighbors who had personally seen Yang Qingyan save the child weren’t having any of it. An older woman frowned and rebuked, “Young lady, don’t speak nonsense. Yesterday, little Hu was on the verge of death—if it weren’t for Yang Qingyan’s quick intervention, that child would’ve been in serious danger. I saw it clearly with my own eyes—her needlework wasn’t luck; it was skill.”

Another young woman chimed in, nodding in agreement. “That’s right! The situation was urgent, but Yang Qingyan remained calm and stabilized little Hu in just a few moves. She even prescribed medicine to help with recovery. Not just anyone can do that.”

Wei Lan’s face flushed red with embarrassment as she was met with resistance. She clenched her teeth in frustration, but there was nothing she could say to refute them on the spot. Shooting a vicious glare at those who defended Yang Qingyan, she huffed coldly and stormed off toward her sister’s house. I won’t let this woman steal all the attention. I’ll make sure to get Mu Nanhe back!

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The afternoon sunlight spilled gently over the family quarters.

By the water faucet in the courtyard, Yang Qingyan was busy washing the newly bought bedsheets and clothes. One by one, she soaked them in water, poured in detergent, and methodically scrubbed them clean. Her eyes were lowered, her expression calm and indifferent—not angry, just lost in her own thoughts.

Inside the house, Mu Nanhe retrieved a hammer and some nails, standing by the window as he carefully installed the new curtains. His movements were steady and efficient, though his expression remained serious. To him, this marriage was more about duty than love—at least for now.

Once the curtains were up, he turned and walked into the slightly messy kitchen. With patience, he began tidying up the pots and pans. Though his actions were somewhat clumsy, his seriousness was unmistakable.

After finishing his work, Mu Nanhe glanced up at the sky and realized that he had yet to buy vegetables for the day. After a brief moment of thought, he decided to head to the cafeteria to bring back some food.

As he stepped into the courtyard, he saw Yang Qingyan washing clothes. His footsteps paused for a moment before he softly asked, “Qingyan, what do you like to eat? I’ll go get it.”

Hearing his voice, Yang Qingyan stopped what she was doing and slowly lifted her head. A few strands of hair fell beside her cheeks, glistening under the sunlight. Her gaze met Mu Nanhe’s for a fleeting second before she looked away. Tilting her head slightly in thought, she calmly replied, “If there’s any leafy greens, get some. And one meat dish as well.”

Mu Nanhe nodded slightly. “Alright.” With that, he turned and walked briskly toward the cafeteria.

Before long, he returned, carrying two lunchboxes filled with steaming hot food, the aroma wafting through the air. Stepping into the courtyard with a faint smile, he called out to Yang Qingyan, “Qingyan, come eat.”

She wiped her hands with a cloth, walked over to him, and took the lunchbox. When she lifted the lid and saw the vibrant green vegetables inside, a trace of indescribable emotion flickered across her eyes. She murmured softly, “It’s been so long since I’ve seen such fresh greens.”

Her thoughts drifted back to that dark and hopeless time in the apocalypse. In that world, ecosystems had collapsed, many species were on the brink of extinction, and food resources were painfully scarce. Leafy greens like the ones before her—fresh, crisp, and full of life—were nothing short of a luxury. Back then, people fought to the death for a mere morsel of food, and life was as fragile as a candle flickering in the wind. But now, in this seemingly ordinary yet thriving era of the 1970s, everything felt so precious and rare.

Mu Nanhe’s steps came to an abrupt halt when he heard her words. It was as if a hammer had struck his heart, leaving behind a dull ache. A troubling thought crept into his mind—was their home truly so impoverished that even leafy greens were a rarity?

He recalled the past year he had spent away on missions, knowing little about the situation at home. He had assumed that sending money back every month would be enough to ensure his family’s well-being. But seeing the way Yang Qingyan looked at a simple plate of greens, he suddenly realized just how tough her days must have been.

A wave of guilt surged through him. He opened his mouth, wanting to say something to comfort her, but his throat felt tight, and for a moment, he found himself unable to speak.

Unaware of Mu Nanhe’s inner turmoil, Yang Qingyan remained immersed in her thoughts, slowly savoring the delicate sweetness of the greens. Memories of the apocalypse intertwined with the tranquility of the present, leaving her emotions in a tangled mess.

Mu Nanhe took a deep breath, forcing himself to steady his emotions. He slowly sat down at the stone table, placed his lunchbox down gently, and spoke in a calm voice, though there was an unshakable determination beneath his words. “From now on… things will only get better.”

His gaze met hers, firm and resolute, as if he were trying to convey a promise—one that assured her that the hardships of the past would not dictate her future.

Yang Qingyan looked at him, her lips parting slightly before she nodded softly. “Mm.”

That single word was both an acknowledgment of his promise and a quiet hope for the future. Though the road ahead might still be filled with thorns, at least in this moment, with a warm meal and a fleeting sense of peace, it felt like a rare blessing.

The two of them ate in silence. The sun remained warm, and the breeze remained gentle, yet the air between them carried an unspoken weight—a mixture of sorrow and hope. Though their dreams for the future differed, both were taking steps to bridge the gap between them, attempting to become a part of each other’s world.