Why?! Why?!?!
Mu Jingmei screamed inwardly.
Song Nianchu was just some country girl from a fishing village who knew nothing—why did she get to work at the state-run restaurant?
Meanwhile, Mu Jingmei, who had mastered music, chess, calligraphy, and painting since childhood, was stuck here weaving those wretched fishing nets.
Her hands, meant for playing the piano, were growing rougher by the day.
Mu Jingmei nearly bit through her lower lip, but before she could dwell on it further, Wu Zhenggui spoke up again.
"But Nianchu turned down Manager Li's offer—for the sake of our village."
Mu Jingmei froze, lifting her head to stare at Wu Zhenggui. The jealousy in her eyes instantly twisted into mockery.
What a foolish woman. How could she reject such a good job? Aside from being a little strong and having a pretty face, she had no redeeming qualities whatsoever.
"Village Chief, what do you mean she did it for our village?"
"Yeah, what’s wrong with Nianchu? How could she refuse such a great opportunity?"
"Can’t we talk to Manager Li again?"
"..."
The villagers' reactions stood in stark contrast to Mu Jingmei’s. They were only concerned about Song Nianchu missing out on a golden chance.
Seeing the crowd’s emotions stirred, Wu Zhenggui’s eyes flickered with satisfaction.
This was a carefully crafted speech he had spent a long time preparing—his goal was to make the villagers remember Song Nianchu’s kindness so they’d follow her lead in the future.
"Quiet, let me finish," Wu Zhenggui raised a hand to silence them.
The crowd fell silent, but their anxious gazes remained fixed on him.
"Even though Nianchu refused Manager Li, he was so impressed with her cooking that he proposed buying finished dishes from her instead."
"So, our village plans to set up a dedicated workshop to prepare dishes for Manager Li," Wu Zhenggui explained slowly.
The villagers' eyes widened in shock. Some of the slower-witted ones still hadn’t processed the news.
"What’s a 'dedicated workshop'?" someone called out.
"It’s just a bigger kitchen for cooking," Wu Zhenggui simplified.
"The state-run restaurant buys finished dishes? I thought they only bought ingredients."
"Of course they don’t buy from just anyone—but Nianchu’s skills are exceptional," Wu Zhenggui said smugly.
He’d known since Song Nianchu was a child that this girl was destined for greatness.
"Now, the workshop needs five people to assist Nianchu in preparing dishes for Manager Li. Those selected will earn full work points every day." Having laid the groundwork, Wu Zhenggui finally got to the main point.
The moment they heard "full work points," everyone excitedly raised their hands.
"Me! I’m a great cook!"
"I’m good at tending the fire!"
"I chop vegetables really well!"
"..."
No one could blame them for their enthusiasm. Full work points were hard to come by—most people toiled all day just to earn seven or eight.
But now, simply cooking could earn them full points. Who wouldn’t jump at the chance?
"Enough! Those of you who’ve never even held a spatchet, put your hands down. Don’t think I don’t know your limits. Five spots are available, but Nianchu has already claimed two. That leaves three. Nominate those who truly excel at cooking, and we’ll draw lots," Wu Zhenggui said sternly.
The villagers respected their village chief, so they quickly began nominating the best cooks in their families.
Wu Zhenggui glanced around—almost all the nominees were women.
And these women stood awkwardly, unused to being in the spotlight.
Usually, it was the men who took charge. This was the first time they’d been pushed forward.
"Wife, rub your hands—get some good luck so you’re picked!"
"Wife, slap me a few times. Every time you hit me, my luck gets better!"
"..."
People came up with all sorts of bizarre methods to improve their odds.
Wu Zhenggui counted—over twenty women had been nominated. He prepared an equal number of sticks, marking three of them before shuffling and gripping them tightly.
"Line up. Each of you will draw one," he announced.
The women stepped forward one by one.
"Ah… I didn’t get it."
"Me neither."
"Only three spots… the odds are too slim."
"..."
"Ah! My stick has a mark—does that mean I’m chosen?" Finally, the first marked stick was drawn.
Wu Zhenggui checked it.
"Correct. You’ve been selected."
The woman who drew it stood dazed.
Her husband burst from the crowd and swept her into his arms.
"Wife! Those slaps weren’t wasted after all!"
Only then did the woman snap out of her daze, blushing as she swatted at him.
"Put me down! Don’t embarrass us in front of everyone."
"Hah! Who cares? We’re a proper married couple," the man laughed but gently set her down.
Normally, women’s work wasn’t as demanding, so earning six or seven points a day was already good.
Even the men couldn’t guarantee full work points every day.
But now, his wife had been chosen—she’d earn full points daily. Come year-end, their family would get a much larger share of grain.
The others watched enviously. Some who hadn’t drawn yet even dragged their husbands over for a few symbolic slaps, hoping to borrow some luck.
"I got one too!" The second marked stick was drawn.
Only six or seven women remained in line.
Among them, one woman stood with her head bowed low, her hair disheveled and clothes patched in multiple places.
While the others fidgeted nervously, her face showed no emotion—only numbness in her eyes.
When her turn came, she mechanically picked a stick and turned to leave without even looking.
"Wait—yours is marked," Wu Zhenggui called out.
The woman finally glanced down. Sure enough, there was a mark on her stick.
Her expression grew even more bewildered.
"You actually got picked? With your luck? Must be our ancestors’ blessing!" A sharp-faced man shoved his way forward, confirmed the mark, and burst into laughter.
Wu Zhenggui frowned but said nothing, turning instead to the remaining women.
"All three marked sticks have been drawn. The rest of you can go."
Those who hadn’t been chosen trudged away dejectedly, some even blaming themselves for not hitting their husbands hard enough.
Song Nianchu's gaze, however, was drawn to the woman with an utterly expressionless face.
