Volume One, Chapter Eight: The Proposal

Watching Dong Ercheng speak with such confidence, Lin Xuehua had no choice but to believe him. Upon further inquiry, she learned about the Zhao family’s money. Since the funds were transferred in US dollars, Dong Ercheng, too lazy to exchange them, had opened an account under Dong Jianbei’s name and bought American stocks. An overseas manager managed the account, and withdrawing now would mean a significant loss.

Hearing that they couldn’t access the money at all, Lin Xuehua’s hopes vanished like bubbles. What could she rely on from him? He had always been a hands-off manager, thinking only of future pleasures while completely forgetting the harsh present. Next month’s salary wouldn’t arrive for another half a month, and the Zhao family’s remittance wouldn’t come until the end of the quarter. At this moment, the two of them were utterly penniless, with only Dong Ercheng’s title as factory director to maintain appearances.

Fortunately, she had sent her daughter to the countryside and reluctantly took out some private savings she had hoped not to touch, using it to pay for hospital fees. Luckily, her ex-husband had left some subsidies behind, enough for them to survive until next month. She planned to re-register the household, get rid of the troublesome Dong Qianqian, and claim the aid for educated youth to cover the half-month deficit. With only three people to feed, life wasn’t too unbearable; they could manage by holding on tightly.

However, Lin Xuehua, always meticulous about every penny, overlooked one thing: the reborn Dong Qianqian, who had crossed over, would never obediently go to the countryside. Her original personality was far more domineering and overbearing than the original occupant, who was meek and silent. It was only the years as a palace maid that had shattered her bones and smoothed her edges.

Gradually awakening in this body, Dong Qianqian began to explore everything around her bit by bit, sensing this new world with her own feelings. For example, she repeatedly examined the enamel cup before her, noting its obvious cracks, bumps, and decorative flaws. Compared to the enamel cups she had access to, this was clearly subpar—a definite defective product.

“You dare ask for a whole yuan for this?” Dong Qianqian, half-hidden behind a scarf, her face mostly covered, wore a hospital gown beneath a black cotton jacket. She was bargaining with a black market vendor in the corridor outside room 306.

“I’m delivering it right to your door. You can see the stock right here. Buy it and use it immediately—how convenient!” The black market vendor, also clad in a hospital gown but without a jacket, seemingly afraid to be mistaken for a healthy person, urged her on.

“Once you miss this chance, there’s no other shop like this! I only have one left; otherwise, I’d let you pick. It’s a busy hospital—if you don’t want it, no problem, there are plenty of buyers!” The vendor knew he was charging a sky-high price, but it didn’t matter—this was a hospital, and there were plenty of gullible inpatients. He had just sold a better-quality cup for five yuan. His family’s New Year celebrations were secure; soldiers had money, and they spent it without blinking.

Dong Qianqian desperately needed a cup. Although she had ransacked the Dong family, the original owner’s cup was already peeling and unusable. She had asked Lin Xuehua many times but was brushed off. Her former life’s obsession with cleanliness flared up—she couldn’t use anyone else’s cup. So she ventured out to try her luck, only to find the black market vendors so brazen. An enamel cup should cost at most five cents, yet he dared to ask for a whole yuan for this flawed one. Truly, the world was in decline and people’s hearts no longer pure.

Even if she had the money, she wouldn’t pay it. Why would she give a yuan when she could buy a military canteen or a glass cup? Did he think she was a fool? The market was just like in Greater Chu—designed to fleece the honest.

Unable to endure the vendor’s boasting any longer, she returned the cup, gave him a subtle eye-roll, and turned to leave. Soon, she planned to find a tall nurse to expose him, waiting for the police to arrive.

The vendor didn’t stop her, letting her go. For him, the day’s business was done. Whether the rest would sell was up to fate.

Just as he was about to knock on room 307’s door, a refined-looking man opened it, saying to the woman inside, “Xuehua, don’t worry. I’ll bring what you asked for shortly!”

Lin Xuehua was uneasy. Dong Ercheng was a careless spender who never checked product quality, but she had to protect her pregnancy and couldn’t overexert herself. She repeatedly reminded him, “Last time you used industrial coupons to buy that kitchen knife—I won’t even mention it. It wasn’t sharp at all, couldn’t even cut paper.”

“This time, whatever you buy, you must try it yourself first. If you think it’s good, then give it to me,” she insisted.

Dong Ercheng agreed wholeheartedly but found it ridiculous. A kitchen knife? Just sharpen it a bit! Why say all this in front of everyone? Was she trying to embarrass him? Try telling me to use the cup or toothbrush first—could I wear the clothes or shoes first and then give them to her? The old saying was true: pregnancy makes women foolish for three years.

Nodding repeatedly, Dong Ercheng quickly closed the door, grumbling inwardly about how much Lin Xuehua was starting to resemble Zhao Yunlei—so controlling.

Night had fallen completely, and Dong Ercheng fretted over having only ten yuan to buy supplies. As he turned a corner in the hallway, a pair of arms suddenly pulled him into the shadows. At first, he panicked, thoughts of robbery, assault, and murder flashing through his mind.

Then the man before him unbuttoned his hospital gown, revealing the last enamel cup hidden inside. With a flattering smile, he said, “Comrade, want to buy a cup? Last one, six yuan.”

If only he had known he was dealing with a reseller, maybe he wouldn’t have been so scared. But six yuan was exorbitant! Had the market really become so absurd?

Dong Ercheng took the cup without examining it, already bargaining in his mind—five and a half yuan, how about that? The vendor was nervous; the man’s wife had said he was not picky when shopping. This was the last cup—he should hurry and buy it!

Just then, a nurse passed by. Dong Ercheng seized the moment, shouting, “Help! Someone’s robbing me here!”

The vendor took off running. He wasn’t a real patient, not on the hospital list, and couldn’t risk capture. Never had he imagined that a hawk hunter would get pecked in the eye.

He glanced back at Dong Ercheng’s decent-looking face, vowing revenge: “You’ve offended the entire Shanghai black market. No matter how rich you are, you won’t buy anything anymore.”

For Dong Ercheng, now unwittingly blacklisted in the Shanghai black market, getting a free cup was the most important thing—he hadn’t spent a single cent. Even if Zhao Yunlei had come back to life, she’d have to praise his thriftiness.

Proudly clutching the cup, he ran back to the ward to show Lin Xuehua his skill, only to be met with a room full of cold stares.

Meanwhile, Dong Qianqian had roamed the hospital, encountering many resellers—patients about to be discharged, unloading their unused items in hidden corners at steep discounts. Many things were far cheaper than the first vendor’s offerings, but all were secondhand and none suited her taste.

Helpless, she headed to the hospital canteen to fill her stomach, deciding to buy supplies at the supply and marketing cooperative tomorrow.

Unable to endure the persistent smoke smell in Li Dan’s ward, Xu Fengchuo went downstairs for some fresh air and moonlight.

Suddenly, his gaze unexpectedly met the glassy, colored eyes he had never forgotten even until death in his past life.

Caught off guard, Dong Qianqian met Xu Fengchuo’s fiercely aggressive stare.

In the dim light, sharp hostility radiated from his brows and eyes, his perfect features exuding a wild, captivating beauty.

He was angry. Instinctively, Dong Qianqian concluded this and turned to run.

Her frail body, however, could not outrun a robust adult.

Xu Fengchuo easily blocked her escape route, cornering her at the stairwell.

With two or three strikes from a belt, he bound her wrists, anticipating her kicking, and pressed his knee firmly against her legs before she could move.

The situation changed so swiftly that before Dong Qianqian’s mind could react, a sharp pain shot through her wrist joints.

They were pressed so close that they could hear each other’s breathing.

Her heart pounded wildly, each beat a drum in her ears.

Terrified, she not only heard her own panicked heartbeat but also his irregular, slightly hurried breaths.

His towering figure loomed like a mountain, enveloping her completely.

In the cramped space, she felt immense pressure and helplessness.

The only light at the stairwell cast a dim, hazy glow, outlining their figures vividly.

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