Previously, she had come to deliver meals for Aunt Liu.
But now that Aunt Liu was in jail, she still showed up, clearly dressed up with obvious intentions—her motives were as plain as day.
Didn’t she know their boss was about to get married?
Zhou Yueshen hated being interrupted during work, and now his expression was icy, devoid of any warmth.
His sharp profile exuded masculinity, his muscular arms exposed, radiating rugged charm.
Yet his voice was low and cold: "What do you want?"
Liu Guifang’s heart raced inexplicably, her face flushing.
Her grandma was right—she really had been foolish.
How had she failed to see Zhou Yueshen’s appeal before?
"Brother Zhou, I heard you gave Si Nian over eight thousand in betrothal gifts and half a pig?"
Zhou Yueshen didn’t respond.
It seemed he had no intention of answering her question—nor was there any need to.
His expression remained indifferent.
Liu Guifang bit her lip, aggrieved.
He hadn’t been like this before.
Before Si Nian came along, though he was cold, it wasn’t to this extent.
But thinking of her goal, she suppressed her discomfort and stepped forward, adopting a tone that suggested Zhou Yueshen was getting a bargain.
"Brother Zhou, don’t marry her—marry me instead. I only want five thousand. I know you just want a stepmother to take care of your boys. Don’t worry, if you marry me, I’ll devote myself to looking after them."
She figured Si Nian hadn’t been around long, so there couldn’t be much affection between them.
The last woman who had stayed with Zhou Yueshen for a year ended up in jail after mistreating the kids—he hadn’t hesitated to send her away.
Si Nian, who had only been here a few months, was no exception.
A man nearby, about to leave, nearly tripped over the threshold.
He turned back, gaping at Liu Guifang.
What shocked him wasn’t her proposal—it was the sheer audacity of her words.
Five thousand? That educated city girl, Lin Sisi, had only gotten three thousand!
Liu Guifang was a widow, already married once, average-looking, with a bad reputation—yet she dared to ask for five thousand?
Talk about overestimating herself!
The man’s lips twitched violently.
He wanted to stay and watch the drama, but one glance from Zhou Yueshen sent him scurrying away.
Still, he marveled at his boss’s composure—how could anyone stay so unruffled in the face of such absurdity?
Zhou Yueshen’s gaze was frosty as he stared at the delusional Liu Guifang.
His voice was like thin ice cracking underfoot: "What makes you think you’re worthy of comparing to her?"
Liu Guifang paled. She knew she wasn’t as pretty as Si Nian, but she was hardworking—she could cook, she could labor, she could do anything.
How was she inferior to that useless beauty Si Nian?
Rumors said that woman was used to luxury, spending extravagantly. In just a few months, she’d already drained Zhou Yueshen’s wallet!
Liu Guifang was thrifty, skilled in household chores—wasn’t marriage about practicality? What use was a vase like Si Nian?
"Brother Zhou, I’m not trying to ruin your relationship," she said pitifully. "But Si Nian’s from the city—she’s used to the good life. How could she endure the hardships of the countryside? She might just take the money and run. But I’m different—if you marry me, I’ll serve you for life! If the dowry’s too much, I can lower it..."
Zhou Yueshen was rich. She didn’t need five thousand—two or three would suffice.
Between two or three thousand and over eight thousand, any sensible man would know which was the better deal.
The money might be less, but once she married Zhou Yueshen, she’d be the wife of the farm’s owner. What couldn’t she have then?
Why fuss over a few thousand now?
Liu Guifang’s calculations were flawless—but Zhou Yueshen remained unmoved, his gaze piercingly cold.
"That’s my business. Even if she didn’t exist, I wouldn’t spare you a glance."
Liu Guifang staggered, her face ashen. "Brother Zhou, how can you say that? I don’t even mind your three kids—how could you...?"
"I have three children, but that doesn’t mean I’ll take in any trash. Understand?"
Liu Guifang swayed, utterly crushed. Aside from being a widow, she considered herself quite a catch.
Yet this older man with three kids was treating her like worthless scrap—she nearly fainted from fury.
"Then... then name your price! You can’t be so foolish as to spend a fortune on Si Nian but refuse a cheaper deal with me?"
Zhou Yueshen lit a cigarette, the smoke softening the coldness in his eyes.
"Do I look like someone who collects secondhand garbage?"
With that, he snapped his pen shut, ignoring Liu Guifang’s unsteady figure, and strode out.
Returning home, the house was lively.
Smoke curled from the kitchen window, the rich scent of home-cooked food easing the stern lines of his face.
Inside, village women bustled about, decorating the living room.
Festive paper cutouts adorned the windows and doors, the entire house brimming with laughter.
His last wedding hadn’t been this joyous.
As Zhou Yueshen entered, people greeted him warmly.
"Zhou’s back!"
"Home so early today?"
"Congratulations! May your marriage be long and happy!"
"Thank you," he replied quietly, nodding. His eyes swept the room—no sign of the one he sought.
Someone chuckled knowingly. "Si Nian got her clothes dirty earlier—she’s upstairs changing."
"Enjoy yourselves," he said before heading straight for the second floor.
The bedroom door was ajar. Si Nian had already changed, her back to him as she sat before the mirror, tying up her hair.
The setting sun streamed through the window, casting a golden glow around her. Her slender fingers gathered her locks, her waistline taut as she tilted her head, her profile radiant and soft.
Her neck was long, delicate.
Zhou Yueshen watched silently for a moment, then rested his hand on the doorframe.
Si Nian secured her hair with a band.
With so many people around, the house had grown warm—she was glistening with a light sweat.
Reaching for a clip to pin back loose strands, she paused as Zhou Yueshen stepped forward, opening her jewelry box beside her.
The fading sunlight gilded his sinewy forearm, the watch on his wrist gleaming.
Si Nian hesitated.
Then a large, calloused hand settled on her waist—hot, unyielding.
Her pulse jumped. She looked up into the mirror, meeting his dark eyes as he pushed the box toward her, flipping it open to retrieve her favorite pearl hairpin.
For a moment, neither spoke.
Finally, Zhou Yueshen gazed down at the pale nape of her neck, his voice deep.
"Turn around."
(Note: The last line appears to be an author’s note unrelated to the story: "Been so busy lately, updates might be late but I’ll try not to miss any, wuwu~~")
