Mu Deyi looked up at the somewhat dilapidated old building before him. Next to the entrance hung an even shabbier sign with crooked characters reading “Qinghe Fishing Village Committee Office.”

Mu Deyi: “…”

This had to be the most rudimentary village office he’d ever seen in his life.

“The village only has these conditions to offer. This was an abandoned house before, later repurposed as the committee office, though it’s usually empty. We only started using it again because of the new workshop.” Song Nianchu explained as she led Mu Deyi inside.

“A-Chu!” The moment Aunt Wu and the others spotted Song Nianchu, they hurried over to greet her.

Mu Deyi glanced around—nearly all women—and instinctively took a step back, maintaining a careful distance.

In these times, interactions between men and women were strictly scrutinized. The slightest misstep could land someone in jail on charges of indecency.

Song Nianchu set down the basket she was carrying and introduced him.

“This is Comrade Mu Deyi, our new village accountant. From now on, he’ll be working here.”

“Hello, Accountant Mu.” Aunt Wu, who was in the know, was the first to greet him.

“Hello, Accountant Mu.” Following Aunt Wu’s lead, the others quickly echoed the greeting.

“Hello… everyone.” Faced with so many unfamiliar women at once, Mu Deyi couldn’t hide his discomfort.

“Aunt Wu, please carry on. I’ll show Accountant Mu to his office.” Song Nianchu, noticing his unease, spoke gently.

“Of course.” Aunt Wu nodded.

“Accountant Mu, follow me.” Song Nianchu turned to Mu Deyi.

He fell into step behind her, his gaze lingering on her for a moment longer.

She seemed quite popular in the village. Everyone followed her lead without question.

“That was Aunt Wu just now. Her husband is the village chief. If you run into any problems when I’m not around, you can go to her, and she’ll take you to see him.” Song Nianchu offered the advice casually.

“Mm.” Mu Deyi nodded.

“This will be your office. It’s a bit simple, but don’t worry—once the village starts making money, I’ll get you a proper, spacious one.” She led him into a cramped little room.

The space was dim, with only a sliver of light seeping in through the window.

A small desk stood by the window, accompanied by a wooden stool.

Mu Deyi didn’t complain. He simply sat down at the desk and arranged his notebook, pen, and teacup on its surface.

Song Nianchu raised an eyebrow at how effortlessly he adapted.

Truly someone who’d seen the world. His composure was unshaken even in such modest surroundings.

She then slung off her small bag and dumped a pile of cash onto the desk.

Mu Deyi watched as his neatly arranged workspace was instantly cluttered again. He frowned at Song Nianchu.

“This is all the money the village has right now. From now on, you’ll be in charge of it.” She smiled brightly, as if completely oblivious to his silent accusation.

“Me?” His irritation instantly gave way to shock.

“Yes. Normally, handling cash should be the treasurer’s job, but finding even one accountant was hard enough. Since you’re capable, you’ll take on both roles.” Her smile widened.

Mu Deyi: “…”

Now he understood—the brighter her smile, the deeper the trap.

One salary for two jobs. She was certainly shrewd.

“But if you put me in charge of both the books and the money, aren’t you afraid I’ll embezzle it?” He glanced at the scattered bills.

He hadn’t counted them yet, but by rough estimate, there had to be over a hundred yuan. It was nothing compared to his past wealth, but for this fishing village, it was no small sum.

“Why would I be afraid? I’ll be auditing the accounts every month. Besides, I’ve got your three sons under my thumb. If you dare cook the books, I’ll—” She narrowed her eyes meaningfully.

“You’ll what?” Mu Deyi tensed immediately.

“I’ll have them all take my surname—Song!” She enunciated each word deliberately.

“You—” His fingers trembled with anger.

“So, Accountant Mu, work hard and keep the books clean, alright?” She beamed, then turned and walked out before he could respond.

Left alone in the room, Mu Deyi’s chest burned with frustration—until he realized her threat was just a bluff.

Mu Shi’an aside, Mu Haoxuan and Mu Yongnian would never agree to change their surname.

Through the window, he watched Song Nianchu rejoin the others outside. Her face was alight with laughter, and wherever she went, joy seemed to follow.

Gradually, his temper cooled. He straightened and began counting the money on the desk.

“…”

Later, after preparing a meal, Song Nianchu returned to Mu Deyi’s office.

He was hunched over the desk, scribbling something.

“Accountant Mu, have you finished recording the accounts?” she asked.

“All done. The current balance is one hundred twelve yuan, thirty-five fen.” He didn’t look up.

“That’s all we have?” She frowned.

“Didn’t you count it before handing it over to me?” This time, he lifted his head.

Song Nianchu: “…”

“I did! I was just making an observation.” She flashed another radiant smile.

Mu Deyi: “…”

Now he was certain she hadn’t counted a single bill.

“By the way, I’m heading to the county soon to deliver goods. I need to withdraw funds for tomorrow’s ingredients.” She got to the point.

Mu Deyi opened the drawer, pulled out the neatly stacked cash, and counted out a few bills for her.

“Is this all?” She looked puzzled.

“This is based on your usual daily procurement costs, with some extra for contingencies. Any leftover must be returned.” He spoke with deliberate emphasis.

“Fine.” Amused by how quickly he’d settled into his role, she pocketed the money with a grin.

“Go on, then.” Having handed over the cash, he shooed her away.

“Right away!” Unfazed, she cheerfully left.

Her lack of irritation made Mu Deyi feel petty for snapping at her. Why was he picking on a young girl?

Well, might as handle the financial planning for her too.

If he was already doing the work of an accountant and treasurer, one more duty wouldn’t hurt.

Mu Deyi began drafting a development plan for Song Nianchu’s little workshop.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep