"You used to hit students?" Song Nianchu was even more surprised.
She had assumed Mu Shi'an would be the gentle, nurturing type of teacher.
"It was the most effective way to deal with students who kept zoning out in class," Mu Shi'an explained.
So when he noticed Song Nianchu losing focus earlier, his body had reacted before his mind could catch up.
"Then why do you think students zone out in your class?" Song Nianchu tilted her head and asked.
"My lectures are rather dull," Mu Shi'an replied, his thin lips parting slightly.
"You think that's the reason?" Song Nianchu widened her eyes.
"Otherwise?" Mu Shi'an countered.
"Have you ever considered that your students might be distracted because of your face?" Song Nianchu's gaze lingered on Mu Shi'an's features.
Mu Shi'an froze for a long moment before realizing Song Nianchu was teasing him. He coughed awkwardly, feigning seriousness.
"Did you understand everything I just explained?"
"I got it—just separate by color, right?" Knowing Mu Shi'an's usual strict demeanor, Song Nianchu didn’t dare push further. She reined in her playful mood and began carefully mixing the pigments.
Once all the colors were prepared, she started brushing them onto the corresponding engraved plates.
Mu Shi'an watched her movements, slightly taken aback. He had thought she wasn’t paying attention earlier, but she had actually memorized his instructions.
"I’ve numbered the plates for you. Just follow the sequence when stamping, and make sure the angles are aligned," Mu Shi'an added after she finished coating all the plates.
"Got it." Song Nianchu nodded, pulling out a blank sheet of paper and stamping the plates in order.
At first, nothing was discernible, but after five plates, a complete pattern emerged.
"It actually worked!" Song Nianchu cheered, delighted by the lifelike label.
"This is my first attempt, so the technique isn’t refined yet. The print is a bit rough—I’ll improve it later," Mu Shi'an said, dissatisfied with the slightly blurred result.
He hadn’t had ink to test beforehand, or he would have perfected it before handing it to Song Nianchu.
"Don’t worry, I’m already happy with this! Help me cut the paper—I want to make more prints." Song Nianchu wasn’t bothered by the imperfections.
In their small village, this quality was more than enough.
"Alright." Seeing her genuine enthusiasm, Mu Shi'an didn’t argue further and simply assisted her with the stamping.
The process was quick, and within half an hour, Song Nianchu had produced a thick stack.
The ink needed time to dry, though, or it would smudge.
"This should be enough for today. Let them dry first." Song Nianchu finally stopped when the ink and paper were nearly exhausted.
"Mm." Mu Shi'an nodded.
"Oh! I lost track of time—it’s already so late. Can you handle the drying? I’ll go cook." Song Nianchu glanced outside, where the sun was high in the sky.
"Sure." Mu Shi'an agreed.
With the label-making taking extra time, Song Nianchu only prepared two bowls of noodles for lunch.
But she added a fried egg for each of them, sliced some cured meat, and tossed it all with her special chili sauce—making it absolutely delicious.
Even Mu Shi'an, who usually avoided spicy food, finished every last drop.
Just as they finished eating, the work whistle sounded outside.
"Go ahead. I’ll clean up." Mu Shi'an said calmly.
"Thanks, Teacher Mu." Song Nianchu handed him the bowl with a smile.
Teacher Mu?
The title made Mu Shi'an pause, his gaze darkening slightly.
Hearing his lover call him "Teacher Mu" in that teasing tone…
It stirred something forbidden in him.
But Song Nianchu, completely unaware of his reaction, slung her basket over her shoulder and hurried off.
Mu Shi'an watched her leave, his expression unreadable.
His mind drifted back to last night’s fleeting kiss…
Was she truly serious about building a life with him, or was she just toying with him?
……
Song Nianchu had no idea her casual remark had sparked such thoughts in Mu Shi'an. She arrived at the village office, where Aunt Wu and the others were already waiting anxiously.
"Sorry, I got delayed today." Song Nianchu strode inside.
"I was worried something happened to you on the way!" Aunt Wu sighed in relief.
"Nothing’s wrong. But today’s workload is heavier—we might have to work overtime." Song Nianchu warned upfront.
"No problem! We’ve already rested this morning," Aunt Wu agreed without hesitation.
"Yeah, we’re happy to have work!" the others chimed in.
"Great, let’s get started then." Song Nianchu smiled, pleased by their enthusiasm.
The entire afternoon was spent in nonstop labor.
Song Nianchu’s back ached from crouching so long, and she stood up briefly to stretch.
Given the workload, six people might not be enough.
She’d likely need to hire more hands later, especially since she didn’t plan to oversee everything personally forever.
By the end of the day, they had finished processing all the ingredients, ready for cooking the next morning.
"Wang Erya, can you take these to my place? I need to speak with the village chief." Song Nianchu asked.
"Of course! Leave it to me." Wang Erya agreed readily.
"Thanks." Song Nianchu nodded before heading off with Fifth Aunt and Dahua.
Only Wang Erya, Meng Yingying, and another woman remained at the office.
Wang Erya had hoped the other woman would help carry the ingredients—she wasn’t as strong as Song Nianchu.
"My child’s sick—I need to check on her. Could Meng Yingying go with you instead?" the woman apologized.
"Uh…" Wang Erya hesitated, glancing at Meng Yingying.
The shy girl rarely spoke to them during their days working together.
"Meng Yingying, would you mind?" Wang Erya pleaded.
Meng Yingying gave a timid nod.
"Thank you!" The woman hurried off.
"Let’s go, then." Wang Erya said to Meng Yingying, who quickly lifted the other end of the basket.
