That night, Song Nianchu slept exceptionally warm, as if Mu Shi’an were a massive furnace enveloping her entirely. Every time she tried to move away, she was pulled back even tighter, tangled up in his embrace.

After a night like this, Song Nianchu nearly overslept the next morning. Breakfast was hastily prepared by Mu Shi’an—just a few boiled eggs and sweet potatoes.

When Song Nianchu arrived at the village office with dark circles under her eyes, Hua couldn’t stop staring at her.

Once she made sure no one else was paying attention, Hua lowered her voice and asked, “Did you tell your man what I said last night?”

“Huh?” Still groggy from lack of sleep, Song Nianchu’s reaction was sluggish.

“Otherwise, why would you look like this?” Hua gave her a once-over.

“Like what?” Song Nianchu blinked in confusion.

“Like you’ve been thoroughly devoured,” Hua declared.

Song Nianchu: “…”

Devoured?

She really wanted to say she hadn’t even gotten started before it was over.

“Men are all like this. Give them the slightest provocation, and they’ll go all out to prove themselves. But this kind of behavior isn’t sustainable—one round like that, and they’ll be useless for months afterward.” Hua spoke with the wisdom of experience.

Cough, cough…

Now Song Nianchu fully understood. Her face flushed crimson.

“Hua-jie, please stop talking!”

Yesterday, Hua had said Mu Shi’an was all looks and no stamina—and sure enough, testing it out proved her right.

Now she was saying he’d be useless for months? How was Song Nianchu supposed to have a child then?

No child meant her original self’s father would keep haunting her dreams to scold her. What was she supposed to do about that?

“Don’t worry, this is just between us sisters. I went back to my parents’ place and told my mom about this. She even got some medicine from the doctor for my man. But honestly, the doctor made it sound like some miracle cure, and it didn’t do much for him. Want to try it?” Hua offered.

“No, I don’t need it!” Song Nianchu waved her hands to stop her.

“Alright, then keep trying on your own.” Hua didn’t push it.

In her opinion, those medicines weren’t much help anyway. Better to just buy an old hen for some nourishing soup.

“…Yeah.” Song Nianchu mumbled in agreement before turning back to her work.

Since she needed to deliver the goods to the restaurant before lunch, Song Nianchu loaded up the cart and prepared to leave, even though the quantity wasn’t much.

With over a hundred jars of ingredients, carrying them in a basket was impossible. Luckily, she had borrowed the market owner’s cart yesterday, which was perfect for today’s delivery.

Just as Song Nianchu was about to set off with the cart, Mu Shi’an arrived, pushing his newly modified handcart.

“You finished modifying the handcart?” Song Nianchu asked first.

“Mn.” Mu Shi’an nodded. “I thought you’d need it for today’s delivery, so I rushed to finish it. Try it out.”

“Great!” Song Nianchu immediately transferred the baskets onto the new cart.

Sure enough, it saved her at least half the effort—but more importantly, the cart was steadier and smoother, meaning she could move faster.

Maybe she could make up for the lost time today.

“This cart couldn’t have come at a better time. I’m really in a hurry.” Song Nianchu smiled, her eyes curving into crescents, instantly forgiving Mu Shi’an for keeping her up all night.

“As long as it helps you.” Mu Shi’an’s voice was gentle.

He was just glad he’d finished in time. Otherwise, she’d have had to struggle with that rickety cart over such a long distance.

“It helps a ton! I’ll head out now—no time to chat.” Song Nianchu didn’t linger.

“Alright.”

“…”

Mu Shi’an stood at the entrance, watching Song Nianchu until her figure disappeared into the distance. Only then did he turn to leave.

But just as he turned, a timid voice called out from behind him.

“Mu… Mu-laoshi…”

Mu Shi’an turned. It was one of the villagers who worked in Song Nianchu’s workshop—but her form of address surprised him.

“You knew me before?” Mu Shi’an asked.

Only back in the capital would people call him “Mu-laoshi,” but he didn’t recognize this woman.

“I… attended one of your lectures.” Meng Yingying nervously twisted the hem of her shirt.

“Oh? My apologies, I don’t recall.” Back in the capital, Mu Shi’an had occasionally given lectures at schools.

He assumed this woman must have heard him speak then.

“I never thought we’d meet here.” Meng Yingying gathered her courage to look at Mu Shi’an properly.

He was just as strikingly handsome as she remembered—if anything, being this close, he seemed even more impressive.

“Perhaps it’s fate.” Mu Shi’an, considering her a former student, treated her with a teacher’s warmth.

After all, he’d never expected to run into someone who’d heard his lectures in such a remote fishing village.

Fate…?

Meng Yingying’s expression faltered slightly at those words.

“I have things to attend to, so I’ll take my leave.” Mu Shi’an didn’t notice her reaction. With a slight nod, he turned and walked away.

Meng Yingying remained rooted in place, staring in the direction he’d gone, her thoughts clearly drifting far away.

“Comrade Meng, what are you doing standing there? Come help!” Hua, noticing Meng Yingying lingering at the gate, called out to her.

“Oh, right.” Meng Yingying snapped out of it and hurried inside.

Hua glanced in the direction she’d been staring—there was nothing there.

“What were you looking at?” Hua asked.

“N-nothing.” Meng Yingying ducked her head and scurried into the courtyard.

Hua frowned. There was something odd about Meng Yingying, but since she’d always been a bit strange, Hua didn’t dwell on it and followed her inside.

“…”

With the new handcart, Song Nianchu finally made it to the glass factory on time.

“Today’s order seems even bigger than yesterday’s.” The factory director glanced at her cart, his smile deepening.

“This is just the first batch. I’ll deliver another later—four hundred jars in total today.” Song Nianchu grinned.

“F-four hundred?!” The director was stunned.

“Yes. Please get these filled first—I still have another delivery to make.” Her tone was urgent.

“Right away!” The director immediately called for workers to take the cart.

One of them lifted it, then paused, giving Song Nianchu a surprised look.

But since she was busy talking to the director, he swallowed his question.

“Comrade Song, I knew you were capable. Doubling the order in just one day—did you find a new business partner?” The director asked eagerly.

Source: Webnovel.com, updated by NovelKeep