Once she completed her shopping in town, she hired a bullock cart to carry her purchases back home. As the cart jostled along the path, she couldn't shake the thought that her little husband must be growing weary from waiting for her return. After all, lunch was still on her to-do list, and she had a meal to prepare for him.
Nestled within the confines of the modest dwelling, Xiao Sheng reclined against the bed, his gaze drifting toward the window as shadows danced in the fading light. Lost in a sea of contemplation, he pondered the peculiarities of the wife's character, which starkly contrasted with the tales he had heard. Despite never having laid eyes on her, her reputation loomed large, whispered through the corridors of neighboring villages where gossip flourished like wildflowers. The stories of her deeds had reached him, shaping an image that both intrigued and bewildered him. He wasn't a native of this village; his roots lay elsewhere, but the ripples of her influence had traveled far and wide.
In the realm of rumors, there is often a thread of truth, and he couldn't help but wonder what of her narrative was genuine and what was merely the embellishment of curious minds.
She had shown him unwavering kindness, yet he remained skeptical.
How could that woman transform so drastically in the blink of an eye?
What if she had slipped away to town to indulge in her old habits again?
He refused to be deceived by her fleeting tenderness. After all, to her, he was merely a husband, and perhaps this newfound affection was simply a reflection of her inexperience in marriage.
Though she wasn't one to impose herself on others, some men held disdain for her despite her wealth. Her fortune wasn't vast, but it was enough to spark the interest of an average family; a man might not easily turn down a chance at marrying her. However, the truth was that Yize's heart was often clouded by a different passion—her love for alcohol. Much of her earnings slipped through her fingers, squandered on fleeting indulgences rather than securing her a happier future. And so, Yize's story of wealth was forever overshadowed by her yearning for the next drink.
In a lively corner of the village, her tavern stands resilient, bringing in a steady stream of income. She is no fool; she understands the value of her hard-earned establishment and is determined to keep it afloat, avoiding the perilous brink of bankruptcy. For her, this tavern isn't just a business—it's a testament to her strength and resourcefulness as a woman, a cherished achievement she guards wisely.
___
After nearly four hours of inactivity, Xiao Sheng found himself increasingly restless. Lying on the bed and doing nothing felt foreign to him—he was never this idle at his mother's home, where time was always filled with tasks and responsibilities.
Though he wasn't as achy as before, he realized that was likely due to the effects of the medicine he had taken. The thought made him flush with embarrassment. With a slight effort, he pushed himself off the bed and made his way toward the door. His gait was awkward and unsteady, so conspicuous that anyone who caught sight of him would easily piece together the story of his recent misadventure.
Xiao Sheng shook off the drowsiness that threatened to keep him anchored to the sofa. He had to keep moving; there was no room for lethargy today.
With a sense of urgency, he made his way to the kitchen, mindful of the fact that lunch needed to be prepared. The thought of his wife returning home inebriated sent a chill down his spine. If there wasn't a meal ready, a storm of anger would surely follow, and he had no desire to face the consequences. He knew too well that even when he tried his best, satisfaction was often elusive.
Rumor had it that there were husbands who endured the sting of blows even after giving their all, simply because their partners were unhappy. And here he was, a man who hadn't lifted a finger.
With focused determination, Xiao Sheng set about preparing the day's simple fare: rice porridge and boiled vegetables. It was a humble meal, but it was the extent of his culinary abilities. He hadn't avoided learning; rather, he had never needed to venture beyond the comforting repertoire taught by his mother. This was the food of his childhood—familiar, soothing, and, above all, safe.
His mother was a gambler, consumed by the thrill of the game, and her mind was always fixated on the next chance to win. The daily struggle for food barely registered with her; all she cared about was the elusive promise of quick riches. If it weren't for that, why else would she ever use him as collateral?
While his father, on the other hand, worked tirelessly as a seamstress, pouring his heart and soul into his craft, earning just enough to keep them fed. Their meals were meager, consisting mostly of gruel and whatever vegetables they could scrounge up. Yet, no matter how hard he worked, it seemed like the meager fare was never enough to satisfy his wife's insatiable hunger for more, and when frustration boiled over, it was often the father who bore the brunt of her anger.
In that moment, clarity struck him like a lightning bolt. The master's wife was not someone who lacked for anything; in fact, she hailed from wealth and privilege. She had likely never tasted the kind of meager fare he had been serving her. The problem lay not with the house—evidently well-stocked—but within himself. If she deemed him worthless, he could only dread the consequences that would follow. He couldn't shake the haunting memories of his father's brutal encounters; one incident replayed vividly in his mind, when his mother's fury had unleashed upon his father with a force that left him battered for days. A shiver raced down his spine at the thought of enduring such wrath from his own wife. His stature felt dwarfed by her imposing presence. If she unleashed her anger on him… the thought left him quaking with fear. What path could he take? What options remained?
Then it struck him—he finally understood the root of his troubles. The wife-master was not impoverished; she was accustomed to a life of abundance. She had likely never tasted the kind of meager fare he had been serving her. The problem lay not with the house—evidently well-stocked—but within himself.
He couldn't shake the haunting memories of his father's brutal encounters; one incident replayed vividly in his mind, when his mother's fury had unleashed upon his father with a force that left him battered for days. The fear coursed through him at the thought of his own wife inflicting such pain upon him. His stature felt dwarfed by her imposing presence. If she unleashed her anger on him... What fate awaited him?
Just then, Yize returned home, her footsteps soft and stealthy as she entered, curious about what her little husband was up to. She initially carried in a few items from the kitchen but suddenly paused, a mix of surprise and bemusement washing over her. "I told him to stay in the room," she murmured to herself, incredulous at the sight before her. Instead of the obedient husband she expected, she found him engrossed in thought, completely unaware of her presence.
For a fleeting moment, she felt a spark of annoyance, practically tempted to give him a playful smack for defying her instructions. But as she watched him, focused and earnest in his culinary endeavor, she quickly pushed that thought aside. There was something endearing about his determination, after all.
"I'm back," she said nonchalantly, wrapping her arms around him from behind. There was something comforting about holding him close.
Xiao Sheng jumped at the sudden embrace, his face draining of color as he recognized her voice. "Wife? ".
"En, didn't I tell you to stay inside?"
"I… I…" His mind raced, but the tension gripped him so tightly that words eluded him. Yize had already caught a glimpse of what he had prepared, and she could easily surmise the source of his unease.
In this world, men often found themselves in a pitiable state, especially those who couldn't please their wives. Had it been any other woman, he would have long since been cast out by his wife for his incompetence.
Yet, she held a perspective that transcended the ordinary; she didn't feel the need to mimic others just to fit into societal norms. She had no intention of changing him, but she was equally resolute in not allowing him to serve her. After all, what was the point of her strength and independence if she allowed someone lesser in stature to take on household duties she could manage effortlessly herself?
Yize gently placed him on a stool, a playful smile dancing on her lips as she remarked, "Just sit here… You're still feeling a bit off, aren't you?" Her gaze playfully wandered lower, and Xiao Sheng couldn't help but feel his cheeks heat up at her words. He had come to notice that his wife had a delightful boldness that never failed to catch him off guard. Seeing his face flush, Yize couldn't stifle a soft chuckle; he looked so endearing in that moment.
In an instant, the tension that had filled the room melted away, replaced by a lightness that was as refreshing as a cool breeze.
Yize busied himself in the kitchen, skillfully preparing a meal, while Xiao Sheng merely sat at the table, observing his every move. The wife owner, seeing his lack of initiative, offered no reprimands or harsh words; instead, she simply let him be, silently accepting his shortcomings. Xiao Sheng couldn't shake the feeling of being utterly useless—relying on his wife's abilities while he contributed so little in return. Though he cherished the warmth of her presence, a shadow of doubt loomed over him. He often wondered what would happen if she were to meet someone more capable, someone who could take on the responsibilities he shirked. Would she choose to cast him aside for a more diligent partner? The very thought sent shivers down his spine. Deep down, he knew that if such a day were to come, he would have no one to blame but himself.
Xiao Sheng found himself captivated by the sight of the wife-owner as she skillfully worked in the kitchen. Each of her movements flowed with an effortless grace that was strikingly at odds with her appearance. It wasn't that she was unattractive; rather, she bore a rugged charm that set her apart from the typical image of femininity.
(Imagine a female version of Aquaman—strong and commanding, with a presence that could not be overlooked.)
The wife-owner moved about the kitchen with the confidence of someone who had mastered the art of cooking, as if it were second nature to her. Xiao Sheng had never encountered a woman quite like her, one so adept in a realm he thought was typically reserved for men.
His thoughts were not without reason; it was a widely accepted notion that women did not take on the role of cooks. The idea of a woman skilled in the culinary arts seemed almost mythical. Yet, unbeknownst to him, Yize had honed her cooking skills in a past life. As he observed her more closely, Xiao Sheng couldn't help but notice how increasingly captivating he found her presence.
Not long after, Yize completed her work and arranged it neatly on the table. She could feel his gaze fixed on her, and that attention filled her with a delightful warmth. It was a sensation she had never fully experienced before—the warmth of being cherished, receiving someone's undivided attention. It was the kind of life that sparkled with happiness. Meanwhile, Xiao Sheng had intended to enjoy the porridge he had prepared, but Yize interrupted his plans. With a determined spirit, she savored every last bit of the porridge and the boiled vegetables, reminding herself that she was no longer the wealthy daughter she once was. She couldn't afford to be wasteful like before.
Once they had finished their lunch, Yize stepped outside to retrieve the remaining items she had purchased earlier in town. Most of her new belongings were already in their room, but there were still a few things left to bring in.
Xiao Sheng, standing patiently nearby, watched his wife as she carried items in one by one. He offered to lend a hand, but Yize kindly declined, leaving him to stand there quietly and obediently.
When she had finally brought everything inside, a realization struck Yize: despite the house's ample space for the two of them, it felt too small. Perhaps it was a lingering echo of her former extravagant lifestyle that made her feel confined. "I need to find a way to earn more money so I can renovate this place," she thought, determination igniting within her.
Her imagination danced with possibilities as she contemplated the kind of house she would create one day. Suddenly, a memory surfaced—one of a blueprint she had glimpsed long ago. It was from a project her father had invested in, a venture that seemed unremarkable at the time: an aged mansion, weathered by time. She had dismissed it as a futile endeavor, a mere whimsy. Yet, who could have foreseen that once the mansion took form, it would blossom into a beloved destination, drawing visitors from far and wide?
Though her studies had immersed her in the world of architecture, she often found it difficult to connect with the historical aspects of the craft. It wasn't until now that she truly appreciated the grandeur of that old mansion. The vision of her dream home, inspired by its exquisite design, danced vividly in her mind. Yet, to transform that vision into reality, she knew she needed wealth—a key that would unlock the door to her future. Armed with extraordinary knowledge and insights, she found herself in a unique position, ready to seize the opportunities that lay ahead.
"Can I come in, my wife? " Xiao Sheng's voice drifted in from outside the room, breaking Yize's reverie. She shifted her gaze to the door, where he stood patiently, awaiting her reply. "Come here," she beckoned, tapping the space beside her invitingly. As he approached, Yize couldn't help but notice his slightly awkward gait, but she chose to overlook it. With a soft smile, he settled next to her, the familiarity of their closeness bringing her comfort.
Yize recalled the beautiful dresses she had purchased in town and handed them to him.
"I bought these earlier. Why don't you take a look and see if you like them?" As Xiao Sheng accepted the garments, he stared at them in silence, his expression unreadable. But before long, silent tears began to stream down his cheeks. The gesture was profound; aside from his father, Yize was the first woman to gift him a dress, and it overwhelmed him with emotion.
"My wife, thank you," he said, a genuine smile illuminating his face.
Seeing that heartfelt smile filled Yize with joy. In that moment, memories of her past life flooded back to her—the sight of her parents gazing at her with unwavering love whenever they presented her with gifts. It was the same authentic smile she had always offered in return.
Fortunately, her family upheld a peculiar tradition: when someone departed from this world, they chose not to grieve. Instead, they bid farewell with smiles, sending the departed off with warmth. This must have been why she felt an unusual peace leaving her cherished family behind. Plus, with her younger brother still there, she had no doubt that he would watch over their parents.
Yize gazed at Xiao Sheng with affectionate admiration. In this life, he was her family, and in this world, he would forever belong to her as long as she drew breath. "There's no need to thank me," she said softly. "Everything I have is yours."
Xiao Sheng found himself momentarily at a loss for words, unable to form a response to her generous kindness. The thought of expressing his gratitude felt overwhelming, especially since the wife owner had already shown him such compassion.
He shifted his gaze from her to the lovely garments nestled in his arms, inspecting each piece with growing admiration. "They're all incredibly beautiful. These must have cost a fortune," he mused, a gentle smile gracing his lips until a sudden realization darkened his expression.
"Ouch! " he yelped as Yize playfully flicked his forehead, pulling him back from the spiral of his thoughts.
"What were you thinking? " Yize asked, her voice mingled with gentle teasing. It seemed this little husband often found himself lost in overthinking, frequently leading him to dark corners of worry.
"Here," she said, as she remembered the sweets she had almost forgotten to share. Xiao Sheng stared blankly at her outstretched hand, a hint of confusion in his eyes. With a soft smile, Yize placed the treats in his palm, then reached out and tenderly patted his head as if he were consoling a child.
"Don't dwell on unnecessary things," she chided lightly, her hand lingering for a moment in his soft hair before she pulled away, a smile of affection on her lips. Who could resist the urge to touch his gentle locks?
Xiao Sheng's heart was in turmoil at that moment. The captivating charm of the wife-owner had truly mesmerized him this time. If it all turned out to be a mere act of hers, he wouldn't mind being played, especially if it meant experiencing such a rare and delightful treatment.