Chapter 21 – Delivering Dumplings

She pulled her hand out of Cheng Weiwei’s grasp and said coldly, “I’m tired from the whole day. I’m going home to take a shower. Yuecheng will be back soon.”

Cheng Weiwei was stunned. “Okay, I’ll go with you tomorrow.”

By then, Jiang Min’s figure had already disappeared at the stairwell.

Cheng Weiwei and Jiang Min were both teachers at the same school. Cheng Weiwei taught music, Jiang Min taught math.

That evening, Wei Dong came home holding two lunch boxes—he had gotten food from the cafeteria.

Lian Yuqing pushed a bag on the table toward him. “I brought you two meat buns.”

The buns were already cold, not as fragrant as when they were fresh out of the steamer, but the fact she had brought food for him was something Wei Dong never expected.

When she smiled, her eyes curved like crescent moons. “They’re really tasty. Try them.”

Wei Dong set down the lunch boxes and picked up the bag. “I’ll heat them up.”

The cafeteria chef had made pork chops today. Wei Dong had gotten two, along with a refreshing plate of stir-fried cabbage. Once the buns were steaming hot, he brought them back to the table.

The two sat face to face. Only after Wei Dong bit into the bun and took a full mouthful of filling did Lian Yuqing say, “The twenty yuan you gave me is all spent. I didn’t waste it, okay? I bought things we need for the house—pots, pans, bowls. That stuff’s expensive.”

In reality, she still had four yuan left—but no way was she handing that over.

Wei Dong thought back to the two pathetic bowls he saw in the kitchen earlier. Not even a spatula. Oh well, not like they cooked much anyway.

He gave a noncommittal grunt, picked up his chopsticks, and ate quickly, as if he really didn’t care.

Lian Yuqing asked again, “So, when are you giving me my living expenses?”

After swallowing his food, he replied, “At the beginning of each month.”

“Oh.” She did a quick mental calculation—still more than ten days until payday. Lian Yuqing finally understood the suffering of salaried workers. The wait was torture.

She picked up the other bun from the plate and put it in Wei Dong’s bowl, then focused on battling the pork chop herself.

She liked fresh food and usually didn’t touch leftovers.

Halfway through the meal, someone knocked on the door. “Brother Wei, are you home?”

It was Cheng Weiwei.

Wei Dong was about to put down his chopsticks and get the door when Lian Yuqing stood up first. She walked over and opened it—then slammed it shut with a bang.

Cheng Weiwei had come to deliver dumplings to Wei Dong. She’d barely knocked twice when the door opened to reveal an expressionless Lian Yuqing. Cheng’s sweet smile instantly froze.

Lian Yuqing snatched the lunch box from her hands and slammed the door shut.

That vicious woman! She nearly disfigured her!

Back inside, Lian Yuqing returned holding the now-open lunch box, which was full of plump dumplings.

Acting like nothing happened, she picked one up and popped it into her mouth. “No good. The celery’s too tough.”

Since Cheng Weiwei was the sister of his good buddy, Wei Dong got up to open the door again—but no one was there.

He stood beside Lian Yuqing, watching as she devoured five dumplings in a row—half the box gone—even though she’d just complained the celery was too tough.

The light bulb hung behind him, casting half his face in shadow. “You really dislike Cheng Weiwei, don’t you?”

Crossing her legs, Lian Yuqing propped her chin on her hand and looked at him. “Isn’t it because she…” likes you.

The words spun around her tongue but never came out.

She wasn’t going to be the stereotypical malicious female side character who caused trouble for the main couple, but that didn’t mean she was about to help speed up their love story. She wasn’t that kind.

“Of course it’s because she’s jealous of me! Jealous that I’m prettier, fairer-skinned, have a better figure—and jealous I have a husband.”

The last line was clearly a joke.

Wei Dong’s gaze darkened, and he sat down to continue eating.

The next day during training, Cheng Xu told him that Cheng Weiwei had locked herself in her room and cried all night.

Cheng Xu: “Did you bully her?”

Wei Dong: “No.”

It was Lian Yuqing’s doing.

Cheng Xu didn’t take it seriously—he knew Wei Dong’s character better than anyone. A comrade on the battlefield, someone you could trust with your life.

Meng Qinghai came over to invite them to dinner that night.

“Dongzi, bring your wife. Xuzi, tell your sister—she has to come!”

Cheng Xu said, “Old Meng, why so generous?”

Meng Qinghai slapped him hard on the back. “You itching for a beating? What’s it got to do with you anyway? My wife’s throwing this dinner to welcome Dongzi’s wife—you just happen to benefit.”

Cheng Xu clutched his back in pain. “Old Meng, Instructor Meng, you hit me with full force!”

Meng Qinghai had more business to attend to and didn’t have time to bicker. Before leaving, he added, “Dongzi, your wife must come. Whether Cheng Xu comes or not doesn’t matter.”

Wei Dong wasn’t sure if Lian Yuqing would agree to come.

Meng Qinghai was the platoon instructor. Usually a smiling tiger, only Wei Dong and Cheng Xu dared to get close to him.

Wei Dong grabbed his hat. “I’m going home.”

“To do what?”

“To ask Lian—my wife if she wants to go.”

Cheng Xu was stunned. “Dongzi, you really have no standing at home, do you?”

Wei Dong didn’t mind the mocking. He had to notify Lian Yuqing in advance. If he dragged her over that night without asking, she might flip the table in front of everyone.

Lian Yuqing was at home, lounging around. It was still hot out, and there was no fan. She didn’t plan on going outside at all. She’d opened the windows to get some air.

When Wei Dong opened the door, she was lying on the bed scribbling away. In truth, she was brainstorming ways to make money.

In all those time-travel novels she’d read, the female leads always got rich selling food—but she couldn’t even cook rice.

That road was a dead end.

The only alternative was bartering on the black market. That was even worse. If Wei Dong found out, he’d definitely report her in the name of justice.

She rested her chin in her hand, brows furrowed. She was always asking Wei Dong for money. While she had the thick skin for it, eventually he’d get fed up. She had to find a way to earn soon.

She tilted her head and nearly jumped. “Are you crazy?! You didn’t make a sound!”

Wei Dong had been in the room for a while, but she was too absorbed to notice.

She liked staying cool, and today she was wearing a thin camisole dress that barely covered her butt. Wei Dong wouldn’t admit to being lustful, but he couldn’t help stealing a few glances.

Lian Yuqing’s skin was porcelain white like mutton-fat jade, her long slender legs slightly lifted and swinging gently.

Wei Dong: “Why isn’t it your hearing that’s the problem? I didn’t open the door quietly.”

Still talking back?

“Don’t you know jump scares can kill people? If I had a heart condition, I’d be dead already. That’d make you a murderer.”

For some reason, hearing her mention death made Wei Dong’s chest feel tight.

His gaze unintentionally caught a glimpse of the paper she’d been writing on—it had a few place names. She quickly put it away.

Wei Dong didn’t realize his expression had darkened, his eyes now icy cold.

She wanted to leave.

Lian Yuqing stuffed the paper and pen into a drawer and turned to ask, “Why are you back?”

She’d already figured out his routine. Aside from bringing her meals, he never came home during the day.