"Have you ever seen someone rob in broad daylight?" Song Nianchu looked helplessly at Mu Deyi.
Just how terrible was her image in his mind?
"Then how did you bring back so many ingredients? The money I gave you couldn’t have bought this much." Mu Deyi glanced around at the large and small baskets scattered across the yard.
"The restaurant’s order increased several times over. To save time, I bought the ingredients on credit from the market and will settle the bill tomorrow when I deliver them," Song Nianchu explained.
"The order suddenly grew that much?" Mu Deyi was utterly shocked.
It was common for business orders to fluctuate, which was why he had left her some extra funds to handle such situations.
But he never expected the surge to be this explosive.
"Yes. I improved our canned food recipe, and by collaborating with the cannery to use vacuum sealing, we extended the shelf life to half a month. Manager Li placed an order for two hundred cans of each type." Song Nianchu smiled, holding up two fingers.
"Good heavens, two hundred of each?!" Hua gasped.
"How much money will we make from this?" Wang Erya started counting on her fingers but quickly gave up, unable to keep track.
"..."
"Can you handle so many orders?" While the others were still celebrating, Mu Deyi was the first to think about the workload.
"That’s right. Two hundred cans of each—there’s no way we can finish that with just us, right?" Aunt Wu snapped back to reality.
"It’s fine. We just need to finish everything before the restaurant closes tomorrow. We might have to work late tonight, but I’ll ask Uncle Zhengui to send more people to help." Song Nianchu had already considered this.
Four hundred cans were indeed a lot, but the village had plenty of hands. Together, they could definitely meet the deadline.
"Alright, then hurry and find Uncle Zhengui. We won’t go home for lunch—we’ll start working now and have our families bring food later," Aunt Wu said firmly.
"You should still eat properly. There’s enough time to finish after lunch," Song Nianchu reassured.
"No, eating here is the same. Since you’re going to see Uncle Zhengui anyway, just let him know for us." Aunt Wu wasn’t as relaxed as Song Nianchu.
If they failed to deliver on time, Manager Li might never order from their village again—and their jobs would be gone.
This wasn’t just about earning work points anymore; it affected the entire village’s livelihood. She couldn’t afford any mistakes.
"Nianchu, I’m not going home either. Tell my family for me," Hua said, standing beside Aunt Wu.
"We’re staying too!" The others quickly joined them.
"Really, there’s no need to rush like this," Song Nianchu sighed.
"Enough, Nianchu. Don’t waste time—go now." Aunt Wu had already started working, and the others followed.
Seeing their determination, Song Nianchu gave in with a resigned sigh.
"Accountant Mu, you should go home for lunch," she reminded Mu Deyi, who was still standing nearby.
"...Alright." Mu Deyi nodded.
Song Nianchu then left to find Wu Zhenggui.
When Wu Zhenggui heard about the four-hundred-can order, he was so excited he skipped lunch and called a village meeting.
Six more people were assigned to help in the kitchen workspace.
Meanwhile, Song Nianchu rushed home to cook, but with time tight, she only managed a simple dish of scrambled eggs with peppers.
She wolfed down her meal, finishing before Mu Shi'an and the others were halfway through theirs.
"I have a lot to do today and might not be back in time to cook dinner. You’ll have to manage on your own," she told Mu Shi'an before leaving.
"That busy? No time even to eat?" Mu Shi'an frowned.
"Yes. The order increased drastically, and I need to oversee everything. Any mistakes could ruin future cooperation," she explained.
"Go ahead. I’ll handle things here," Mu Shi'an assured her.
"Mm." She nodded and hurried off.
"..."
The entire afternoon, Song Nianchu supervised the food preparation at the village office.
They had enough workers, but the yard was too cramped—a dozen people moving around made it feel stifling.
She silently vowed that once they made money, the first thing she’d do was build a spacious food factory.
With higher production, she became even stricter about quality control, ensuring no detail was overlooked.
After the workday ended, no one left—they wanted to finish processing all the ingredients.
Family members soon arrived with dinner for everyone… except Song Nianchu and Meng Yingying.
"Ah-Chu, eat with me," Aunt Wu offered.
"Comrade Meng, you can share mine," Hua said to Meng Yingying.
"N-no, I’m fine!" Meng Yingying waved her hands and quickly returned to work.
Song Nianchu, however, didn’t hesitate. She washed her hands and was about to take a few bites from Aunt Wu’s meal when a knock sounded at the door.
She looked up—Mu Shi'an was standing there.
"What are you doing here?" she asked, surprised.
"May I come in?" Mu Shi'an asked politely from the doorway, aware of the kitchen’s hygiene standards.
"Of course! We’re just prepping ingredients, not cooking yet." She smiled.
Mu Shi'an stepped inside.
In the corner, Meng Yingying froze mid-task, the half-cleaned fish slipping from her hands into the basin and splashing water all over her.
"Why did you come? I told you I’d be late today," Song Nianchu said, still smiling.
"I brought you dinner." He handed her a lunchbox.
"You… brought me food?" She stared in disbelief.
"If you’re not coming home to eat, of course I’d bring it to you." He seemed puzzled by her reaction.
Then he added, "But you know my cooking skills. We only boiled potatoes and sweet potatoes, though I made an extra egg for you."
She didn’t care what was inside—what mattered was that he had come.
Truthfully, when everyone else’s families arrived earlier, she had felt a pang of loneliness.
She knew Mu Shi'an struggled with cooking and could barely manage his own meals, let alone think of her.
But he had.
And she couldn’t deny it—her heart leapt with joy.
