Eighties Sweetheart Wife
Chapter 116: Me and Her, We’re Actually Not Close_1

Chapter 116: Chapter 116: Me and Her, We’re Actually Not Close_1

Song Yunuan pointed to another one, "This is for men, with a relatively large size. If you like it, I’ll bring you two more in a few days."

Zhao Li hurriedly waved her hands: "No need, these two are enough. The male one will be for Uncle Zhao, and I’ll wear the female one. They really look good."

"When the checkered skirt is ready, I’ll bring one for Sister Zhao."

Zhao Li didn’t mention money, as giving money would imply that Little Nuan was there to sell something.

Little Nuan wouldn’t take it either.

This was different from flour; one couldn’t buy flour even with money, as food was still scarce at the moment.

It wasn’t until two years later that they could finally breathe easier.

Yet this flour was very cheap, ten cents a pound, all at internal prices, totaling one hundred and fifty pounds, fifteen yuan in all. Zhao Li took the money but then ran to the bedroom and brought out several notes to give to Song Yunuan: "Here’s a sewing machine coupon. I traded it with someone yesterday. You should go buy it today. I heard from your brother-in-law that this batch of sewing machines are all Peony brand, really good to use."

So, the horse carriage carried away three bags of flour and a sewing machine.

Old Man Song, now when he went out, always brought more money as long as he had his granddaughter with him.

A delighted Little Asheng sat on the horse carriage, holding a green frog toy that could jump and a box of checkers.

This checker game required tickets.

And Sister Zhao had included one in the tickets she gave.

What made Asheng so happy was not the checker game, but the six colored glass marbles inside, though his sister had said that this checker game was suitable for children over six years old.

Asheng almost cried.

He was five, still one year short.

Song Yunuan then asked if he would swallow them?

Song Mingsheng promptly promised he wouldn’t. Eating glass marbles was something little kids did, and he would definitely not do it.

Eat one and you’d lose one; he wasn’t about to do such a silly thing.

Meanwhile, Chu Zizhou finally got a call from Gu Huai’an.

The cool voice coming through, Chu Zizhou began to make a complaint.

He said Song Yunuan was audacious, driving his jeep and even aiming his shotgun at Yao Hai and Mazi.

Gu Huai’an’s breath hitched on the other side, and he couldn’t help feeling a headache, saying, "Start from the beginning."

The topic was shocking, but he should at least know why.

After listening, Gu Huai’an fell silent.

Chu Zizhou said, "The little girl is incredibly bold. If this is not addressed, who knows if she will reach the sky in the future."

Gu Huai’an was silent for a long while before counter-asking, "Why are you telling me all this?"

Chu Zizhou: ...

"I just want you to know, she’s a lawless person. Don’t find yourself crying without a place to do so if she ends up on the wrong path."

Gu Huai’an’s mood was clearly not bright: "Zizhou, she has a father and mother, she has her family’s protection. I’m not as familiar with her as you are. Even if she does go astray, what does it have to do with me?"

Chu Zizhou’s eyes widened, raising his voice: "Don’t you see her differently?"

"So, seeing her differently means I should intervene?" said Gu Huai’an coolly.

Hearing him speak like this, Chu Zizhou became irritated: "But you have intervened before. Why such an attitude this time? Could it be, you have fallen for some girl, or has your mother introduced you to someone?"

"Neither. Zizhou, although your work in Erdao River Village is partly because of me, it’s more for your own future. Focus on your work. As for her and me, we really aren’t close."

After saying this, Gu Huai’an hung up the phone.

At that moment, Gu Huai’an stood in front of his desk, stunned for a second. Maybe he had indeed been too enthusiastic; aside from that girl, many others had noticed.

Only Song Yunuan hadn’t taken him to heart.

She really was flamboyant.

And indeed, she was daring.

Just moments later, Gu Huai’an’s eyes sparkled with amusement, touched by an untraceable glint of light. He thought, "Little Nuan must look very cool holding the hunting rifle."

Gu Huai’an picked up the phone and began to dial.

It didn’t take long before someone answered, a middle-aged man with a cautious and respectful voice.

"Uncle Wen," Gu Huai’an said, "look into someone named Yao Hai, who claims to be the director of the Beidu East City Cultural Exchange Center, now in charge of cultural relics."

"Alright, I’ll get on it right away."

The voice on the other side promised.

Gu Huai’an instructed him to conduct a thorough investigation once he found Yao Hai and if there were any issues, the cultural exchange center would need to be rectified.

After hanging up the phone, he walked lightly towards the laboratory outside the office.

The sunshine was bright, and the future seemed long yet full of expectancy.

Chu Zizhou had no idea what Gu Huai’an was really thinking, assuming that due to his age and status, he had bowed out automatically, and even felt sorry for him for a few minutes.

Of course, for someone like Gu Huai’an, finding a partner was too simple.

Not to mention the line of distinguished young ladies from the capital, which was practically a reality.

Then, seeing how cheerfully Song Yunuan’s days were passing, he sighed helplessly and went about his business.

-----------------

These past few days have been busy for Song Yunuan, who had a great time playing with Xiaojuan and Xiaohua from the village. When Grandpa Zheng arrived, she went to visit him.

His condition was indeed serious; he could no longer walk and had come in a wheelchair.

But he was tough, laughing heartily despite the pain, likely a reason Old Man Ji decided to treat his ailment. Afterwards, he also brought Song Yunuan some tasty treats.

Cake, candy, and freshly baked cookies from the morning.

The cupboard Old Mrs. Song used for storing food finally came in handy.

It was stuffed full of delicious items.

Maybe out of habit of frugality, Old Mrs. Song still couldn’t bring herself to eat them.

It was Song Yunuan who urged her to finish the cake quickly and give away what they couldn’t eat.

How could Old Mrs. Song give it away? She still had several children to feed at home.

The family’s grain was also stored, kept in several large pots in the kitchen.

This was to prevent mice.

Heavy covers were placed on top, too heavy for even the largest mouse to move.

Sometimes, Old Mrs. Song would get lost in thought.

Though grain prices hadn’t dropped, the household had over a hundred pounds of white flour. The cornmeal was part of relief rations, allocated per person, and there were over fifty pounds of it, plus more than fifty pounds of corn bran, over ten pounds of rice, and half a bag each of millet and soybeans.

Seeing it all brought a sense of security to her heart.

There was a jar full of freshly rendered lard.

Oil scraps were mixed in as well.

Life had unfolded in this way over a month; could it not feel like a dream?

After all, for many years, at this time of season, her family’s rice jar would be empty.

One year during this season, only a few pounds of cornmeal were left. They roamed the hills and dales gathering wild greens and tree leaves, boiled them, and shaped them into balls. They sprinkled the cornmeal on a rolling board, rolled the wild green balls in it, and then steamed them until cooked.

When she was teaching her granddaughter these things, her granddaughter told her about a saying, "Fortune turns like a wheel." There might come a time when whole grains would be more expensive than refined ones, and eating wild greens would be for the rich, while eating meat would signify poverty.

She listened to it as if it were just a tall tale.

She just couldn’t believe it.

Who would want to eat wild greens? Without enough oil, they’d be bitter as gall.

And meat — where could the poor afford meat? It was like a joke to her.

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