Chapter 10: A Wedding-Night Surprise!

When Zhao Qianqian was about to sleep, Zhao’s mother suddenly pushed the door open.

“Qianqian, you’re getting married tomorrow, so I won’t give you anything else. The 50 yuan and the bicycle voucher won’t be given either—take the 20 yuan dowry Old Qian put up.” Zhao’s mother held her hand and said, “But I, your mother, spent 600 yuan through a contact to buy you a job.”

At first, hearing the first few sentences, Zhao Qianqian felt very upset.

No dowry at all?

Even the 50 yuan bride price and the bicycle voucher were being withheld.

But when she heard her mother say she had secured a job for her, Zhao Qianqian was stunned.

What?

Her mother had spent 600 to buy her a job.

Never mind where Zhao’s mother got that much money.

Zhao Qianqian truly didn’t want to work!

In her last life she’d been a corporate drone, working every day.

In this life, she only wanted to be a pampered “husband’s darling” who ate and idled!

But 600 yuan was a huge sum.

Since her mother had bought her a job as a kind of dowry, she would take it for now and repay her mother later.

As for the details of the job, she could only wait until after the wedding to talk about it.

The next day.

Before dawn, Zhao’s mother went to Zeng Cheng’s home to prep the dishes for the banquet.

Qian Daniu’s wife went along to help.

Besides the two of them, two other village aunties came as well.

Bartering was something Zhao’s mother knew well.

Normally, a chicken might cost about two yuan.

But Zhao’s mother bought two chickens at one yuan fifty each.

Then she traded two yuan eight for an old duck weighing seven or eight jin.

As for the 20 yuan Zhao Qianqian had been given, Zhao’s mother didn’t take it.

She used the Qian family’s household funds—meaning it came out of the 30-yuan monthly living allowance.

Zeng Cheng’s house was close to Old Qian’s—just over 200 meters.

A short walk, so no cart was used.

The wedding itself was quite lively.

Although there were no vehicles for the bridal procession, walking to fetch the bride could be just as festive.

For that 200-plus meters, Zeng Cheng carried Zhao Qianqian on his back and sprinkled candy the whole way.

He had plenty of candy.

Though his father had sent only two jin of sugar coupons the day before, he mailed coupons every month, and there was still a lot in reserve—five or six jin altogether.

The newlyweds were surrounded by Zeng Cheng’s educated-youth friends and a crowd of children.

Zhao Qianqian wore a floral dress with black leather shoes and a big red flower in her hair—very celebratory.

In truth, the main event of the day was the banquet.

Times weren’t that prosperous; every household hoped to use a banquet as an excuse to eat well.

On Zhao’s mother’s side, her relatives had planned for one table, but two tables showed up.

Plus one more table of uninvited villagers.

So the original six-table plan became eight.

Fortunately, Zhao’s mother cooked often and had prepared for contingencies.

The banquet went like this:

Staples were portioned out as follows—each adult received one white-flour steamed bun and three cornmeal wotou.

Each child got one white-flour bun and one corn bun.

For a banquet, Zhao’s mother’s thought was to make sure people ate their fill no matter what.

Four buns for an adult was enough.

Two for a child was also enough.

As for anything more—there wasn’t any.

In reality, Qian Family Village was relatively well-off; most households could eat their fill.

In other villages—especially Zhao Family Village where Zhao’s mother had lived—most people couldn’t.

After a day’s work, men might get a whole wotou; women and children split half a wotou each.

So today’s banquet was already very respectable.

At least everyone got one white-flour bun, plus enough wotou to be full.

Zhao’s mother made the buns very large and substantial precisely so every guest could eat well.

What’s more, each table had six dishes, all with plenty of oil:

Chives stir-fried with eggs, old-duck soup, pork-rib and radish soup, rendered-crackling braised cabbage with glass noodles, shiitake stir-fried with chicken, and cold shredded cucumber.

Aside from the cold cucumber and the braised cabbage, the other dishes weren’t in large portions.

After all, two jin of ribs split among eight tables meant three or four rib pieces per table.

Two chickens and two ducks divided among eight tables meant each person got only two or three bites of meat.

As for the chives-and-egg dish, each table had the equivalent of two eggs’ worth, stir-fried with chives.

But the side ingredients were plentiful.

For example, the rib-and-radish soup had lots of radish.

The old-duck soup had plenty of duck blood.

The shiitake-and-chicken dish had lots of mushrooms—wild-picked and free!

And taken together—this and that—people still ate plenty of “meat.”

In short, everyone at the banquet ate well and was very satisfied.

After seeing off the guests, it was time for the true centerpiece of the wedding—

The bridal chamber.

Zhao Qianqian braced herself with all twelve points of focus, determined to cling tightly to this “golden thigh” that was Zeng Cheng.

She kept practicing her every smile and expression, hoping to show him her best side.

She even went over and over how to make him more obsessed with her.

But the more she thought, the more her mind went blank when the real “battlefield” arrived.

When the true wedding night began…

Zhao Qianqian’s mind went completely blank.

As the man’s hand touched her snow-white skin…

Her mind was instantly wiped clean by an invisible force, empty of any thought.

She felt only Zeng Cheng’s gentle yet assertive hands and his quickened breaths… Her whole body seemed electrically charged—numb and weak—and her brain lost all ability to think.

Immersed in each other’s love, the night grew deeper while their passion did not fade; only near dawn did they fall asleep in each other’s arms.

The next day.

When the first light of morning poured through the window onto the bed, the newlyweds were still fast asleep.

After their night of exertions, they slept past mid-morning on their first day of marriage and didn’t even have breakfast.

They finally woke at noon.

Zhao Qianqian asked, “You didn’t go to work today—will that be a problem?”

Zeng Cheng pulled the woman in his arms a little closer. “It’s fine. I took three days of marriage leave.”

“Even so, we can’t keep sleeping. I should get up and cook.” Zhao Qianqian yawned. “There’s nothing left—yesterday’s buns and banquet dishes are all gone, so we need to make fresh food.”

“Sleep a bit more,” the man said dotingly. “I’ll take you to the town for a meal later.”

At that, Zhao Qianqian was delighted.

She was exhausted from last night and didn’t want to cook anyway.

They dozed a little longer, then each mixed a cup of wheat milk essence.

By the time they reached town, it was already afternoon—just in time for dinner.

Zeng Cheng splurged and ordered braised pork, steamed pork balls with rice flour, oil-braised prawns, and a steamed fish, with six liang of rice as the staple.

He figured that anything they couldn’t finish could be packed up for breakfast the next morning.