“Comrade? What are you doing crouching by the door?” Just then, a questioning voice sounded behind Song Nianchu.

She turned instinctively to see a nurse holding a tray standing behind her.

“I… I’m here to visit a patient,” Song Nianchu quickly explained.

“Visit? Then why aren’t you going in?” The nurse’s suspicion didn’t fade.

“I… I was just about to,” Song Nianchu replied, trying to keep her expression natural.

As she turned to knock, the hospital room door opened from the inside.

“Nianchu?” Mu Shi’an stood there, surprised.

“Hello,” Song Nianchu greeted with an awkward smile, waving at him.

“So you two really know each other?” The nurse looked astonished.

“My apologies, she’s my wife,” Mu Shi’an introduced.

“Your wife? You’re already married?” The nurse’s eyes widened.

“Yes,” Mu Shi’an confirmed.

The light in the nurse’s eyes dimmed instantly.

Song Nianchu noticed and couldn’t help but sigh inwardly.

Another young heart had just been broken.

“I… I’m here to change the dressing,” the nurse said stiffly.

“Of course,” Mu Shi’an stepped aside to let her pass.

Once inside, the nurse worked swiftly, unlike her earlier sluggishness, quickly changing Mu’s Father’s dressing before leaving with her tray.

As she passed Song Nianchu, her ears were still burning with embarrassment.

In these times, people were more reserved—admiring someone already married was considered shameful.

“Why didn’t you come in earlier?” Mu Shi’an asked as Song Nianchu was still reflecting on the nurse’s reaction.

She looked up, slightly dazed.

“Never mind,” Mu Shi’an sighed, taking her hand to lead her inside.

But Song Nianchu pulled away.

“What’s wrong?” Mu Shi’an frowned.

“Your father probably doesn’t want to see me,” she whispered, handing him a bag. “I bought some groceries from the supply cooperative for you. Take these—I’ll head back soon.”

It wasn’t that she felt unwelcome, but Mu’s Father was still in poor health. She worried her presence might upset him further—and if something happened, their plans for starting a family would be over.

“Why the rush? My father’s awake. Come in and say hello,” Mu Shi’an insisted, his brow furrowing.

“You—” Song Nianchu almost wanted to praise him for being such a “filial son.”

Did he really not consider his father’s condition at all?

“Come in,” a weak voice called from inside the room.

Song Nianchu froze, glancing uncertainly at Mu Shi’an.

Why was his father inviting her in?

“It’s fine. The doctor said he’s recovering well now,” Mu Shi’an reassured her.

With that, Song Nianchu stopped hesitating and followed him inside.

Mu’s Father was propped up in bed, his face still pale but noticeably better than the day before.

As Song Nianchu studied him, he studied her in return.

When he’d first heard Mu Shi’an had married into a local fishing village family, he’d assumed the girl must be plain and unremarkable.

But now, seeing Song Nianchu—with her rosy lips, fair complexion, and delicate features—she was even prettier than his own daughter.

More striking was her composure. Under his scrutiny, she didn’t show a hint of discomfort.

She didn’t seem like someone raised in a rural fishing village at all.

No wonder Mu Shi’an had taken a liking to her.

“Shi’an told me you were the one who brought me to the hospital. Thank you,” Mu’s Father said slowly.

“Don’t mention it. You’re Shi’an’s father—I couldn’t just stand by,” Song Nianchu replied, glancing at Mu Shi’an beside her.

He gave her a faint smile.

Watching them together, Mu’s Father suddenly felt this marriage might not be so bad after all.

“What’s your name?” he asked, sitting up slightly.

“Song Nianchu. ‘Nian’ as in ‘remembering,’ ‘chu’ as in ‘original heart,'” she recited, repeating the explanation Mu Shi’an had once given.

“That’s a fine name,” Mu’s Father nodded approvingly before growing serious. “I was ill when you two married, so I wasn’t aware of the circumstances.”

“But a man marrying into his wife’s family will always invite gossip. Shi’an is the heir his grandfather and I carefully raised. I won’t oppose your marriage, but he cannot be your family’s live-in son-in-law. You should marry into the Mu family instead.”

“As for the betrothal gifts he accepted from you, don’t worry—we’ll find a way to return them. We’ll also prepare proper gifts for you in turn.”

“Dad—” Mu Shi’an frowned, as if about to argue.

But Song Nianchu shook her head. Mu’s Father’s attitude was reasonable—his offer sounded sincere.

Honestly, any father who’d pinned his hopes on his son would struggle to accept this arrangement after waking from a serious illness.

“Uncle Mu, I understand this is hard for you, but I can only accept a live-in marriage,” Song Nianchu said gently but firmly.

“Why must you insist on this? Isn’t it more natural for a woman to marry into her husband’s family?” Mu’s Father asked, puzzled.

“My father had only me as his daughter. Before he passed, he made me promise to take in a husband to continue our family line. If I refused, he swore to haunt my dreams every night. I really have no choice,” Song Nianchu sighed.

Mu’s Father hadn’t expected such a reason. He sat frozen, at a loss for words.

“But Uncle Mu, I promise you—I’ll treat Shi’an well!” She raised three fingers in a solemn vow.

Mu’s Father looked even more bewildered. Wasn’t this the same pledge he’d made to his own father-in-law when marrying his wife?

How had his son ended up on the receiving end?

Ahem.

Mu Shi’an coughed awkwardly, shooting her a look.

Only then did Song Nianchu realize how her words might sound. She hastily lowered her hand.

“I mean… if Shi’an stays with me, I’ll take good care of him.”

Mu’s Father’s hands trembled slightly.

Wasn’t that the same thing?

“Dad, rest for now. I’ll walk Nianchu out,” Mu Shi’an said, noticing his father’s fraying composure, and quickly led Song Nianchu out.

Once outside, Song Nianchu gave him a rueful look.

“I told you I shouldn’t have come to see your father,” she muttered.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep