Lu Cheng lowered his gaze to look at her. “I’m guessing no.”  

“Why?”  

“Because no one could be better than me.”  

“Pfft—”  

Though the man was narcissistic, it surprisingly didn’t strike her as greasy or off-putting.  

Probably because it was the truth.  

Lu Cheng’s features weren’t the delicate type—in fact, with his darker complexion and sharp eyes, he came off as somewhat intimidating.  

But his broad shoulders, narrow waist, and long legs were undeniably impressive, the kind of build that made it obvious he had abs.  

Noticing Lu Cheng’s gaze lingering on her, as if waiting for an answer, Jiang Moli replied:  

“Aside from Zhang Jiaming, the childhood marrige arrangement, I’ve never been with anyone else in this lifetime.”  

“You have no romantic feelings for Jiaming, so by extension, I’m your first love too.”  

Lu Cheng seemed pleased with this conclusion, the edges of his eyes softening slightly.  

But how could he know that the “lifetime” Jiang Moli referred to had only lasted four days so far?  

The Jiang Moli of her past life had actually been in relationships—three of them, all of which ended without resolution.  

The first lasted half a month. After two meals and a movie, he said he didn’t feel a spark, quickly broke up with her, and got back together with his ex.  

The second lasted two months and ended just before their first kiss—she’d been revolted by his bad breath.  

The third was someone she’d met through gaming. After three months of chatting online, things seemed promising, but just as she was preparing to meet him in person, he invited her to visit him in Thailand. Terrified, she immediately blocked him on everything.  

“Let’s go back and ride the bikes.”  

Lu Cheng looked at her. “You want to bike?”  

Jiang Moli nodded. “You take my dad’s bike, and I’ll ride the new one.”  

Truthfully, the moment she’d entered the courtyard, she’d been drawn to that Phoenix brand women’s bicycle.  

The mix of beige and light brown, with a woven beige basket hanging from the handlebars—it perfectly matched her aesthetic.  

She’d initially assumed it was part of Jiang Qing’s dowry and had even considered “commandeering” it. To her surprise, it was actually hers.  

“Alright. But first, come with me to the car. I have something for you.”  

Jiang Moli: “…You have a car? What kind?”  

Lu Cheng pointed at the military jeep ahead. “It’s not mine—it’s my dad’s. I’m not senior enough to be assigned one yet.”  

Jiang Moli glanced at the jeep, then back at him. “You have a car and didn’t say so earlier? Why bother with bikes?”  

Lu Cheng smiled. “I thought you wanted to ride.”  

“That’s only because I hate squeezing onto buses.”  

Lu Cheng considerately opened the passenger door for Jiang Moli.  

As she stepped forward, she caught a faint whiff of alcohol on him. “You’ve been drinking—can you drive?”  

“Just two small glasses. It’s fine.”  

Seeing his expression normal and his gaze clear, Jiang Moli figured a man like him wouldn’t take unnecessary risks. She reminded him, “Then drive slowly,” before settling into the seat.  

Once she was in, Lu Cheng fastened her seatbelt for her, then closed the door and got in from the other side.  

Tsk. Quite the gentleman.  

…

The interior of the jeep was spartan, resembling a metal box—two seats in the front and a bench in the back. Compared to the modern cars of later generations, it was practically bare-bones.  

But in this era, owning a four-wheeled vehicle was something ordinary people couldn’t even dream of.  

“Your dad must be at least a high-ranking officer, right?”  

Meeting Jiang Moli’s curious gaze, Lu Cheng chuckled. “Our dad, you mean.”  

Jiang Moli was about to retort that they weren’t at that stage yet when Lu Cheng pulled a cloth-wrapped bundle from his military satchel and handed it to her.  

“What’s this?”  

Lu Cheng motioned for her to open it.  

Inside, the first thing she saw was a bank passbook.  

The balance: 3,806.45 yuan.  

In an era of scarcity, where food and clothing were hard to come by, savings of over three thousand yuan made one downright wealthy.  

Studying her expression, Lu Cheng explained:  

“My current monthly salary is 109 yuan. Before, I sent it home for my mom to manage, but from now on, it’s all yours. I won’t question how you spend it day-to-day, but for the long-term stability of our little family, I’d prefer to leave the savings untouched. You can use my monthly allowance for expenses—though, of course, that’s just my personal suggestion.”  

Given the cost of living at the time, 109 yuan was more than enough for two people.  

After all, Jiang Dahai supported a family of five on just 68 yuan a month.  

Beneath the passbook were stacks of ration tickets—grain, sugar, meat, cloth, vegetables, industrial goods, and more—each neatly bundled with rubber bands and arranged in perfect order.  

Clearly, this was Lu Cheng’s entire life savings.  

Jiang Moli shot him a teasing look. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll run off with your fortune?”  

“Where would you even go?”  

Fair point.  

Unlike in later generations, where a single train ticket could take you anywhere, travel in this era required an official introduction letter. Without one, you couldn’t buy tickets, stay at inns, and if caught by authorities, you’d be sent back.  

“I’ve already applied for family housing, but it’ll take time to arrange. For now, you’ll stay with my parents. Once the place is ready, you can move in.”  

“Don’t worry about housework—my aunt handles it. She’s been living with my parents for years, helping with their daily needs.”  

In other words, this “aunt” was a maid.  

Given the political climate’s crackdown on capitalist tendencies, outright hiring domestic help was risky, so many disguised such arrangements as relatives staying over.  

“Comrade Jiang Moli.”  

She turned to look at him.  

“Three major items and a radio, 500 yuan in bride price, handing over my salary after marriage, no questions about your spending, no housework for you, no living with the in-laws—I’ve fulfilled all your conditions. As for children, if you don’t want them now, we won’t have them. Do you have any other demands?”  

Jiang Moli had originally tossed out those requirements to make things difficult for the arranged marriage.  

She never expected him to remember—and deliver on—every single one.  

“Not for now. If I think of any, I’ll let you know.”  

“So, does that mean you’re satisfied with me and willing to become my wife?”  

Meeting his earnest gaze, she teased, “Isn’t proposing a little late at this point?”  

Both families had met, the engagement meal was over, and she’d even accepted the red envelope. Did she really have any room to refuse?  

“No refusal means consent.”  

With that, Lu Cheng handed her two booklets.  

One was a hardcover household register with a brown kraft paper cover.  

The other—a red plastic-covered marriage certificate.  

At the sight of it, Jiang Moli’s eyelid twitched.

When she opened the marriage certificate and saw the names on it, her hanging heart completely sank.  

“Comrade Lu Cheng, care to explain? When did we get married? How come I didn’t know about it?”  

“The day before yesterday, Xiao Peng came to me and said the Educated Youth Office was giving you and Uncle Jiang a hard time. He even handed me your family’s household register and asked me to register the marriage with you first. I thought you knew about it.”  

Jiang Peng, you’re dead!  

Jiang Moli gritted her teeth and checked the issuance date on the marriage certificate—it was actually today.  

“Does my dad know we’ve registered our marriage?”  

“Haven’t had the chance to tell him yet. It’s been a hectic morning.”  

“I think you just didn’t dare!”  

Lu Cheng guiltily rubbed his nose.  

Although the forced marriage was infuriating, Jiang Moli wasn’t actually that angry.  

The man was exceptional in every way—she wasn’t at a disadvantage. But she still felt uneasy.  

Jiang Dahai and Jiang Peng were in a hurry to marry her off to keep her from being sent to the countryside, but why was Lu Cheng so eager to marry her?  

She eyed him suspiciously up and down. “There’s nothing wrong with you physically, is there?”  

Before her, Lu Cheng had never been in a relationship, so there was no chance of her becoming a stepmom to his kids from a previous marriage.  

As a military officer, his character was undoubtedly sound. The only question was his health.  

“Over the years stationed at the border, I’ve been injured a few times, big and small, but I’ve recovered fully. Otherwise, I would’ve been discharged long ago.”  

“That’s not what I’m asking. I mean… are you, you know, functionally normal… as a man?”  

As soon as the question left her lips, Jiang Moli’s face burned.  

Lu Cheng wasn’t much better—his ears turned crimson, though his expression remained composed.  

“Do I look abnormal to you?”  

“Hard to say. You can’t tell just by looking. Or maybe you were normal before but got injured and it affected you. Think about it—you’re good-looking, great physique, politically impeccable, and highly capable. If you just put the word out, there’d be plenty of outstanding women lining up for you. So why settle for someone like me? It’s hard not to be suspicious.”  

“Is that how you see me? You think I’m good-looking, have a great physique, am politically impeccable, and highly capable?”  

Even though she was the one who said it, hearing him repeat it back made it unbearably embarrassing.  

“That’s not the point…”  

Lu Cheng: “That is the point, Comrade Jiang Moli. Your opinion of me matters. It seems you’re quite satisfied with me.”  

Jiang Moli closed the marriage certificate. “And what about you? What’s your opinion of me?”