Chapter 16

That morning, after finishing up in the kitchen, Wen Xin cleaned the living room—wiping down the tables and mopping the floor. He Wenyan liked to wear light-colored clothes, likely due to her profession, and she was meticulous about cleanliness. Her clothes were always spotless, so she preferred washing them herself, probably because she doubted Wen Xin’s ability to do it properly.

Wen Xin wasn’t exactly thrilled about doing laundry. In this era, washing machines weren’t even a thing. According to Li Weihong, people washed their clothes with lye.

That fact alone was shocking to her. It was proof of how scarce supplies were during this time. Soap and synthetic laundry detergent were considered luxuries—most households didn’t even have them!

Fortunately, the Yan family was well-off and powerful for this time period, so they never lacked food, clothing, or other essentials. They had soap and detergent, which was a relief—otherwise, she would have had no clue how to wash clothes with lye. After washing her and Yan Miaomiao’s clothes, she took special care to apply essential oil to her hands to keep them soft.

Since the Yan household was usually empty during the day, she even had time to take a luxurious afternoon nap. She woke up naturally around 2 p.m., feeling utterly refreshed.

By the afternoon, she was lounging on a cool stone bench in the courtyard, lazily cracking hazelnuts with a small hammer while admiring the view.

From time to time, she tossed a few into her mouth. The wild ones actually tasted quite good. Inspired, she sped up her pace, cracking enough hazelnuts to fill a bowl. Then, she took them into the kitchen, quickly roasted them, and ground them into a fine paste using a stone mortar. For the filling, she mixed the crushed hazelnuts with peanuts and syrup.

She also made a dough, incorporating a type of extracted oil from her system that would create a flaky texture.

Truth be told, she was just craving some flaky pastries. She casually made three types of stuffed pastries: hazelnut-peanut-syrup filling, chicken and cabbage filling, and red bean paste with salted egg yolk filling.

Back in high school, she had worked at a breakfast shop near her aunt’s house during summer and winter breaks. The owner had previously been a pastry chef before starting his own business, and Wen Xin had helped out while picking up a lot of baking techniques along the way. To her, these were simple recipes. Without the modern-day artificial additives, the flavors were pure and authentic.

Just as she finished pan-frying a batch of pastries, she put a small pot of pork rib and tofu soup on the stove. She added a scoop of seaweed extract from her system, which made the tofu exceptionally tender and gave the broth a deep, rich umami flavor.

She had just placed the lid on the pot when she heard someone calling her name from outside the kitchen window.

“Wen Xin! Wen Xin!”

Looking out, she saw Li Weihong waving at her excitedly from the courtyard gate, jumping up and down.

Stepping outside, she noticed that Li Weihong had brought two unfamiliar women with her.

“This is the instructor’s wife, Mrs. Liu, and this is Logistics Officer Xiao Sun’s wife,” Li Weihong introduced. “They want to ask about that essential oil…”

She seemed a little embarrassed. Wen Xin had only told her about the essential oil in confidence, but the scent was too enticing—it lingered on the skin for hours. When people started asking, she accidentally let it slip.

Wen Xin instantly understood. Looking at the two women, she flashed a warm, harmless, customer-service-style smile and extended her hand.

“Hello, hello!”

This was her first chance to make money—she couldn’t mess it up.

The two women were caught off guard by her enthusiasm. A handshake? That seemed a bit formal. But they didn’t mind. After shaking her hand, they quickly got to the point.

“We heard from Weihong that she got this amazing essential oil from you. She even said it’s based on an old formula from the imperial palace. Is that true?”

The instructor’s wife, a woman with neatly trimmed short hair, was the first to ask.

Imperial concubines’ beauty secrets? In reality, it was just a product created by her system and handcrafted by her. But Wen Xin didn’t even blink as she replied,

“I had a great-aunt who was once a palace maid. She served many noblewomen and learned several beauty recipes from them…”

She spun an elaborate tale, her words flowing effortlessly. According to the novel, her character had been given this fabricated palace-maid background to justify her skills—so why not use it to her advantage?

Even in this era, women cared deeply about their appearance. No matter how little money they had, they would scrape together enough to buy face cream. Beauty was a universal obsession.

She talked up her product, dropping buzzwords like “imperial beauty secrets” and “favored by concubines.” Finally, she let them test the oil on their hands. Then, she demonstrated on herself.

She had made the product for her own use, so naturally, she already smelled wonderful. She even lifted her sleeves and shirt slightly, showing off her smooth arms, toned stomach, and slender waist to provide undeniable proof of the oil’s effectiveness.

By the time she was done, both women were utterly convinced. They each bought two jars.

Wen Xin happily pocketed her first “twenty” yuan—a whopping five yuan per jar.

She mentally calculated. In this era, a five-yuan jar of cream was already considered high-end. If she raised the price any further, she might scare off potential buyers.

Watching the two women leave, chatting excitedly, Wen Xin couldn’t help but admire how well-off the military families were. They had disposable income! Her efforts had been worth it. Given the purchasing power of money in this era, five yuan was equivalent to a hundred modern-day yuan—not bad at all.

As she played with the cash, holding it up to the light and admiring it like she had never seen money before, a deep and serious voice suddenly came from beside her.

“You need money that badly?”

She nearly jumped out of her skin.

Turning around, she found herself face-to-face with Yan Zeyang, standing there in his impeccably pressed military uniform.

His gaze was intense, his expression unreadable. But there was a hint of displeasure in his eyes.

Displeased about what, exactly?

Did she just ruin the Feng Shui of his house with how she acted like she hadn’t seen money in centuries?

Pouting, Wen Xin quickly put the money away. “Of course I need money! You already know the situation with the Wen family. When I came here, I didn’t have a single cent on me…”

Who was he trying to fool? If he wanted to deal with the Wen family, he must have already investigated their background thoroughly, probably even combed through their financial records. He was just taking his time. So, he must also know that the original Wen Xin had never been properly raised by the Wen couple. She had been tossed aside like a stray, raised by others. And the moment they took her back, they used her as a scapegoat.

Whether she had money or not was as obvious as a louse on a bald head.

Hearing her words, Yan Zeyang’s expression, which had been slightly displeased, momentarily froze. But it was only for a second before he returned to normal.

Wen Xin followed him back into the courtyard. The rich aroma of hazelnut-filled pastries filled the air, and she took the opportunity to head into the kitchen to serve the soup.

Not long after, Yan Zeyang came downstairs, holding something that looked like a notebook. Without saying much, he pulled out a stack of cash from between its pages and handed it to Wen Xin.

She was stunned.

“You said you needed money, didn’t you?” He glanced at her. “Take it and buy yourself some snacks. Think of it as an advance on your allowance.”

An allowance… basically a salary?

She knew that as a regiment commander, his monthly salary was only about 180 yuan. But even though that seemed like a small amount, its purchasing power was supposedly equivalent to 3,000 yuan in modern times.

Wen Xin was completely broke right now—so yes, she desperately needed money. She eyed the ten crisp ten-yuan bills between his long fingers but hesitated. After all, she had originally planned to stay for just a month, yet here she was about to take three months’ worth of pay in advance. That didn’t seem quite right…

“N-no need, Commander Yan.” She pushed his hand, along with the money, back toward him. As she did, she tried to explain, “I don’t really have much to spend on here, so I don’t need it…”

Having lived in the modern era, Wen Xin was used to casual physical contact. She didn’t think much of it. But in this time period, touching hands was considered quite intimate. Yet, here she was unknowingly grasping his hand while pushing back the money.

Her small, delicate fingers clutched the back of his hand—soft, smooth, as if sculpted from fine jade. Her fingertips were slender like bamboo shoots, her wrists pale like lotus roots.

Yan Zeyang had never been held by a woman like this before.

He cleared his throat and gave her a glance before calmly withdrawing his hand.

Huh?

Wen Xin’s gaze was still fixed on the money. She had planned to push it back once or twice, then pretend to give in and accept it. But just as she was about to take it, he suddenly retracted his offer.

She watched, heartbroken, as the hundred yuan returned to the pages of his notebook, nestled among other ration tickets. She could have cried from regret.