Reborn as the Villain's Wife, I Shine in 80s
Chapter 47 - 046 Raw rice not yet cooked into rice

Chapter 47: 046 Raw rice not yet cooked into rice

"Brother Li, what did you catch this time?" Chen Ying asked with a smile.

"Nothing much, just a wild snake."

Chen Ying glanced at the sack and gasped, "Wow, it’s a big one. It looks pretty long."

Li Zhengxiong chuckled sheepishly, "Not that long, just about as thick as your wrist, and around 150 centimeters in length."

"Brother Zhou, do you know how to catch snakes?" Chen Ying stared blankly at Li Zhengxiong’s retreating figure, her gaze full of nostalgic memories. She suddenly remembered that Zhou Zheng was a teacher—how would he know how to catch snakes? Yet there was a lingering trace of hope in her heart.

Hope for what?

It was back then, in front of Tian Sangsang’s courtyard, bathed in the shimmering morning sunlight.

His hair, blacker than ink;

His eyes, like the stars and sea; so deep, so dazzling;

She wished she could become a little countryside fish, swimming freely in the depths of his eyes.

His pale, wounded complexion hinted at frailty, but the sleeveless vest he wore couldn’t conceal his tall, robust figure. When his fingers gripped the dagger, she felt as though they were gripping her, sensing the rough calluses. He carried the elegance and refinement of a city dweller, yet differed from them—there was an unintentional nonchalance that always left her blushing and her heart pounding.

The gleam from his dagger flashed as he deftly but firmly pinned down the snake’s inch-square length.

In that instant, she lost herself in the scene before her—within that scenery, there was only him.

Zhou Zheng’s face suddenly twisted with disdain, "Yingzi, catching snakes is something only brutes would do. What we should care about isn’t whether we can catch snakes or not, but how to catch them."

Chen Ying forced a weak smile.

Chen Ying used to enjoy making shoes for Zhou Zheng, sewing clothes, and bringing him meals. She would wait at the school gate or outside his dormitory, quickly handing the items to him before dashing away like the wind.

Today, she came to Zhou Zheng’s dormitory at the primary school for the first time. Inside was a single bed, a clean quilt, a table with a kerosene lamp, neatly stacked textbooks, and other books. The wardrobe was well-organized. Though the room was a bit modest, it felt bright and refreshing.

She couldn’t help but walk up to the desk, reaching out to pick up "How the Steel Was Tempered."

At some point, the door had been locked, and as soon as her hand stretched out, it was grasped by a pair of male hands. These hands also bore calluses, but they were different—not the kind of calluses that belonged to someone like Ye Jiang, whose elegant, noble, and careless demeanor mingled with raw ruggedness, calluses that could sting yet make one willingly endure the pain.

Zhou Zheng hugged her from behind and murmured in a low voice, "Yingzi."

"Brother Zhou." His tone carried something unspoken on his face, startling Chen Ying back to full awareness. Instinctively, she tried to pull away, but his grip was firm, unyielding.

Zhou Zheng’s hand still held hers as he moved around to face her. His gaze was deep and ardent. "Yingzi, I like you. Marry me."

Chen Ying’s mind went blank at the sudden confession. "I..."

"Do you want to marry me?" Zhou Zheng’s handsome face loomed closer.

Consumed by his gaze, Chen Ying blushed uncontrollably. She thought to herself, why is he so bad? Marrying him isn’t just up to whether she wants to or not—it depends on whether her family agrees, especially her father!

"Yingzi, why haven’t you answered? Do you not want to marry me?"

"No!" Chen Ying shook her head, her cheeks flushed. Shyly, she said, "I’m willing to marry you. Just... when will you come to propose to my family?"

A thrill of excitement lit up Zhou Zheng’s heart, and he smiled faintly. "In a month or so, I’ll come to your house to propose."

The old man seemed to always disapprove of him, but once he had her in his grasp, with the rice already cooked, the father wouldn’t have a choice but to consent.

"Yingzi, I’ve been reading a poem lately, imagining what our future life together might look like." He began reciting softly: "When you are old, your hair white, sleep heavy; Sitting by the fire, take this book down; Slowly read, and dream of the soft look your eyes had; Of their deep shadows..."

Listening to him, seeing him, Chen Ying realized that Zhou Zheng was nothing like the rest of them from the countryside—always impeccably clean, with fair skin, courteous and graceful. Although there were a few dashing youngsters in the village, none of them had his sophisticated presence. Even without being particularly strong, and perhaps somewhat lacking in that department, she loved the unique aura of an outsider that surrounded him.

She remembered the second time she saw him. He had been sitting outside the classroom while everyone inside bustled about, moving tables and chairs. He alone quietly read "How the Steel Was Tempered," occasionally wiping the sweat from his brow. It truly embodied the phrase "a gentleman as warm as jade."

Lost in her memories, she suddenly felt a chill, and Zhou Zheng had already pinned her down.

Chen Ying panicked, her hands against his chest, feeling weak. She wanted to push him away but found herself reluctant to do so.

The world spun, and they were on the bed.

"Zhou Zheng," she called out.

"Yingzi," he murmured. He once only had feelings for Tian Tian, the girl he cherished. But Chen Ying’s body was just as alluring.

After all, he was still a young man.

"No..."

"Yingzi, I love you." It was only at moments like this that he claimed to love her, wasn’t it?

"This isn’t right, Zhou Zheng; my father would never allow it," Chen Ying finally mustered the courage to protest. "Can’t we wait until after we’re married?"

"Yingzi," Zhou Zheng rasped, "whether we marry sooner or later, we’ll still get married. You know it, I know it, no one else has to know. I’ll marry you, I’ll take responsibility for you—believe me."

"Brother Zhou." Chen Ying tried to lift her arms to push his head away, but Zhou Zheng seized the opportunity to press her hand down. Mortified, her conservative nature clashed with her fear and confusion, and a sudden clarity sparked in her muddled mind. She lashed out with a strong swipe.

"Slap!"

"Bang!"

The two sounds rang out simultaneously, and a red handprint immediately bloomed on Zhou Zheng’s right cheek as he stumbled awkwardly to the ground.

Zhou Zheng cursed inwardly. This shrew dared to hit him?

Chen Ying stared down at Zhou Zheng in disbelief, then at her own hand. She hurriedly climbed out of bed and helped him up, inspecting him from head to toe. "Brother Zhou, I’m sorry; I—I don’t even know what came over me..."

She fixated on her own hand. "How could I lose control of myself like that?"

Zhou Zheng’s hand snaked around her waist again. No matter what, he was determined to settle things tonight!

Chen Ying froze in fear, dodging left and right. Reflexively, she raised her hand as if to strike again. "Brother Zhou, what’s gotten into you?" Zhou Zheng wasn’t usually like this—always so gentle and refined. Why was he so rough and impulsive today?

This woman is practically a tigress, Zhou Zheng thought angrily. The strength of her slap was beastly. If it were Tian Tian...

Chen Ying’s defiant gestures completely provoked Zhou Zheng. But he reluctantly pulled back, terrified of another slap. "Yingzi, I was wrong today. It wasn’t you losing control—it was me."