Chapter 11 Asking Him for Monthly Living Expenses!

Since it was early winter, there was no fear that the food would spoil.

Maybe they were too tired.
Maybe it was because they hadn’t eaten all day. Either way, the four meat dishes plus six taels of rice were all eaten clean.

Zhao Qianqian felt that days without a mother-in-law watching over them, just the two of them as a little couple, were truly delightful.

Cook if they wanted, don’t cook if they didn’t.

The best part was that Zeng Cheng had money.

She could enjoy her life as a rice weevil!

After eating, Zeng Cheng asked Zhao Qianqian if she wanted to go to the supply and marketing cooperative to buy something.

After all, tomorrow was the day for returning to her parents’ home three days after marriage.

But Zhao Qianqian said no.

First, Zeng’s father had mailed many things to him, which could be used as gifts.
Second, Zhao Qianqian really disliked Old Man Qian and the Qian family—they were too calculating, so she didn’t want to prepare more.
Third, Zhao Qianqian wanted to live her rice-weevil life, so she needed to plan for herself and save whenever possible.

Right now, in her hand, she already had the 300 yuan bride price that Zeng Cheng had supplemented, the 20 yuan dowry, plus the 20 yuan Zeng Cheng gave her for groceries that her mother didn’t take back, along with her own secret stash of 13.8 yuan.

In total, she had 353.8 yuan!

Though in this era that was a huge sum, it was still far from enough for her to comfortably live as a rice weevil.

She would need to save at least ten thousand yuan before she could relax completely.

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The Qian household.

Today was the day of returning to her parents’ home three days after marriage.

Yesterday Zhao Qianqian hadn’t let Zeng Cheng buy anything extra.

Because his father had mailed him red sugar, malted milk powder, biscuits, and other items.

Zhao Qianqian thought those were more than enough for gifts.

In the end, she prepared two packs of red sugar, two packs of White Rabbit candies, one bottle of malted milk, and a box of biscuits.

It didn’t look like much.

But each item was a scarce good.

The Qian family and Zhao’s mother were both very happy to see them.

Since it was their wedding return visit, they woke late, and when they arrived it was already noon.

Zhao’s mother made dumplings for them to eat and, when they left, gave them two bowls to take home.

They could fry them in the evening and wouldn’t even need to cook dinner.

Besides dumplings, Zhao’s mother packed some pickled vegetables for Zhao Qianqian.

At first Zhao Qianqian didn’t want them.

But Zhao’s mother insisted: “You’re going to live your own life now, you can’t spend recklessly. These little pickles can sometimes serve as a whole dish.”

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After the three days of wedding leave,

Zeng Cheng had to go back to work.

Zhao Qianqian originally thought: if she wanted to win a man’s heart, she had to win his stomach first.

So she decided she must cook three meals a day for him, and cook them well.

But often things sound good in thought, yet are hard in practice.

On the first morning when Zhao Qianqian wanted to play the virtuous wife and good mother, she couldn’t even get up.

Breakfast was cooked by Zeng Cheng himself.

He only knew how to boil noodles, hard-boil eggs, or make porridge.

So his breakfast was a big pot of plain rice porridge and two boiled eggs.

Zhao Qianqian actually thought that breakfast was quite nice.

A bowl of porridge, two boiled eggs,

plus the pickled vegetables her mother had given her.

She really felt that breakfast was good.

When her mother had given them, she hadn’t wanted them.

Now she thought the pickles were fragrant.

She had to admit, her mother’s skills were impressive.

The pickled cucumbers were crisp, the pickled green chilies flavorful.

Perfect for eating with rice!

After breakfast, Zhao Qianqian tidied the house, and soon it was lunchtime.

That morning Zeng Cheng definitely hadn’t eaten enough.

Just one bowl of porridge and two eggs wasn’t filling at all.

And he was doing heavy labor in the fields.

So for lunch she had to make something better.

Looking at the food they had:

No meat at all.

But plenty of flour, and a few eggs.

So Zhao Qianqian used the flour to make leek and egg stuffed flatbreads.

The leeks were from their small plot.

She used up all five eggs they had left.

Actually, they’d had many more, but the wedding banquet had consumed most of them.

Once she finished the leek pies, she reheated the porridge.

By then it was past noon.

But Zeng Cheng still hadn’t returned?

Was he really working that hard for work points?

Zhao Qianqian was about to go fetch him from the fields when he came back.

Though it was early winter, he was dripping with sweat, filthy all over, and even had a cut on his hand.

Zhao Qianqian’s heart ached to see her husband working so hard.

Yet Zeng Cheng still had the mood to tease her: “What’s this? I come back, and instead of your warm embrace, I get that face about to cry?”

She pouted, “I just don’t want you working so hard. Why don’t you skip the afternoon shift? I’m not depending on your work points to feed me anyway.”

“If I don’t earn money, and you don’t earn money, how do we feed ourselves?” He stretched out his arms and pulled her into his chest.

Before, he thought working was tough.

But now, just thinking he was working to feed his wife,

Zeng Cheng felt full of strength.

He wanted to earn ten work points every day.

Zhao Qianqian’s eyes flashed with calculation: “Hehe, anyway your father sends you fifty yuan every month. If we save a little, it’s enough.”

As someone who had transmigrated into the book,

she naturally knew how wealthy Zeng Cheng’s family was.

And in a few years, when everything opened up,

his maternal relatives would be rehabilitated.

There was no need to struggle in the fields at all.

Zeng Cheng pinched her nose, a bit unhappy: “So all that scheming to seduce me back then, was it because you saw my dad mailing me fifty yuan and all those supplies every month?”

Yes. That was exactly why.

But Zhao Qianqian would never admit it to his face.

“I clearly like you, don’t talk nonsense.” Zhao Qianqian then muttered in a sarcastic tone, “Anyway, that fifty yuan each month never comes to me. And we’re out of eggs at home—we need to buy more.”

“So you’re asking me for monthly living expenses now!” he teased.

“Of course. Shouldn’t you give it to me?” Zhao Qianqian pouted and acted coy: “My mom still gets thirty yuan living expenses every month. Shouldn’t I get more than her? After all, you’re so rich.”

“If I give you the whole fifty, what about me?”

“I can give you some.” Zhao Qianqian traced circles on his chest. “What’s mine is yours, and what’s yours is still yours. Don’t you still have savings?”

“So not only are you scheming for my fifty yuan a month, you’re scheming for my savings too.”

“I’m not scheming. If you don’t want to give, then don’t.” She pretended to be angry.

“Forget it. Before I married you, I already knew what kind of person you were.” Zeng Cheng went to a tin box and pulled out two hundred yuan to give her.