“Ah-Chu, do you want a man or not?”

Song Nianchu was sitting in the courtyard, preparing to clean a twenty-pound basa fish.

Just as her cleaver was about to come down, the village chief’s words made her hand slip, nearly slicing her own wrist.

“Close call!” Song Nianchu immediately dropped the cleaver and shot a resentful look at the old man in front of her.

“Chief Wu, even if you’re jealous that I caught the biggest fish again, you shouldn’t try to sabotage me like this.”

“What nonsense are you spouting, girl? I’m serious. Didn’t your father always nag about you settling down before he passed? I’ve got a good match for you. Come take a look—if you like him, you can even have the wedding tonight!” Wu Zhenggui, the chief of Qinghe Fishing Village, eagerly stepped closer to Song Nianchu.

“Not another butcher, is it?” Song Nianchu had long lost faith in Wu Zhenggui’s recommendations.

Last time, he’d also claimed it was a “good match,” but when she went to see, the man—supposedly twenty—looked older than her late father.

And the moment he opened his mouth, the stench of his yellowed teeth nearly knocked her out.

It wasn’t that she was unattractive. On the contrary, her looks were unmatched, not just in Qinghe Fishing Village, but possibly the entire commune.

But she was born with freakish strength and insisted on only taking in a live-in husband. After one suitor witnessed her punch a rampaging bull to death, no man within a ten-mile radius dared to propose.

Song Nianchu wasn’t in a hurry, though. She enjoyed her carefree, solitary life.

The only problem was her late father, who haunted her dreams, scolding her for “ending the Song family line” and making him suffer the ancestors’ wrath in the afterlife.

“No, no! This time, I’m introducing you to a scholar! A former capitalist’s son from the city—very refined. Handsome beyond words. Every girl in the village blushes just seeing him.”

The more Wu Zhenggui exaggerated, the more suspicious Song Nianchu became.

Her pretty eyes narrowed. “A capitalist’s son? A reform target?”

Ahem.

Wu Zhenggui cleared his throat awkwardly.

“What’s wrong with reform targets? Even the Party gives them a chance to redeem themselves—why won’t you? Weren’t you always going on about finding a good-looking man? I swear, I’ve never seen anyone more handsome in my life.”

“Really that good-looking?” Song Nianchu’s interest was piqued.

She had a weakness for pretty faces.

“Go see for yourself,” Wu Zhenggui urged.

In the end, Song Nianchu couldn’t resist the temptation and followed him.

The moment they arrived, raucous shouting erupted from the courtyard.

“You damn woman! You should be grateful I even glanced your way! Look at what your family is now—if I beat you all to death today, no one would dare say a word!”

The arrogant voice made Song Nianchu frown. She glanced back at Wu Zhenggui, who avoided her gaze and nudged her inside.

The courtyard was chaos. A burly, towering man was roughly dragging a slender, delicate-looking girl by the arm. Behind her, several men and women were pinned to the ground, weeping and cursing—likely her family.

“Y-you… let me go.” The girl being dragged had red-rimmed eyes, but her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, failing to exert any intimidation. Instead, it only stirred the man’s restless desires.

“Relax, I’ll let you go once we’re back home and you’ve shared my bed.”

The man grew impatient, tugging the girl along faster—only to turn and lock eyes with a pair of amused, mocking ones.

His body stiffened, a flicker of fear flashing through his gaze. What’s she doing here?

“Yang Dafu, what exactly are you up to?” Song Nianchu’s voice was cool as she glanced at him.

“This woman accepted my betrothal gifts. I’m taking her home to marry her.” Though Yang Dafu was wary of Song Nianchu, he couldn’t bring himself to give up the girl behind him.

“Oh?” Song Nianchu shifted her gaze to the trembling girl.

“No! I never took his gifts! He forced them on me, and no matter how much I refused, he wouldn’t listen!” The moment the girl sensed someone might stand up for her, she spoke up desperately.

“You damn wench! Who gave you the right to interrupt me?” Yang Dafu raised his hand, ready to strike her.

But before his palm could descend, a slender hand intercepted his wrist mid-air.

He couldn’t move an inch further.

“The girl said she didn’t accept your gifts. Isn’t it a bit much to force her like this?” A frosty edge crept into Song Nianchu’s voice.

“Song Nianchu, stay out of this! They’re not even from your Qinghe Fishing Village—why are you protecting them?” Yang Dafu grimaced in pain.

This woman must be a monster—how is she so strong?!

“If they’ve come to Qinghe Fishing Village, they’re under our care. Besides, I’m here today to propose. Soon, they’ll be my family.” Her lips curled faintly.

“What?! Pro… propose?” Yang Dafu’s eyes bulged.

Song Nianchu scanned the crowd—most were pinned down, making it impossible to distinguish men from women—before turning to Wu Zhenggui.

“Village Chief, which one is he?”

“Huh? Oh, that one.” Wu Zhenggui pointed at the man struggling the fiercest.

“Release him.” With a single glance from Song Nianchu, the two men holding him down instinctively loosened their grip.

They’d witnessed her strength firsthand—one kick could send a man flying ten meters.

Freed, Mu Shi’an scrambled up from the ground, staggering toward Yang Dafu.

“Let go of my sister!” His eyes burned with fury as he clawed at Yang Dafu’s grip on the girl.

Song Nianchu studied his face—smudged with dirt and footprints, barely recognizable—but his voice was undeniably pleasant.

Probably quite alluring under the covers at night.

The thought made her tighten her hold on Yang Dafu’s wrist.

“Agh—pain, pain, pain!” Yang Dafu howled like a slaughtered pig.

“Then let go!” Song Nianchu snapped.

“Song Nianchu, are you really picking a fight with me?” Yang Dafu snarled, his face contorted with rage.

She rolled her eyes and twisted harder. A sharp crack echoed as his entire arm went limp.

“Ah!” Yang Dafu’s piercing scream tore through the skies above Qinghe Fishing Village, his grip on the young girl loosening instantly.

Freed from his grasp, the girl immediately threw herself into Mu Shi’an’s arms, her entire body trembling uncontrollably.

Song Nianchu couldn’t help but click her tongue in silent amazement.

No wonder Yang Dafu had set his sights on her—she was delicate and charming to a fault.

“Aren’t you all leaving yet?” Song Nianchu shifted her gaze to the lackeys trailing behind Yang Dafu.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep