Volume One, Chapter Seventeen: Mastering the Art of Striking at the Heart

Before afternoon, Song Yi returned to the military district compound, carrying ribs and fish she had specially bought from the market.

Sister Wang saw her and couldn’t resist a cold, sarcastic remark: "Ribs again, fish again. You've only been here a few days, already spending Captain Shang’s money recklessly."

Song Yi ignored her. Seeing Li Wan playing with An’an at the doorway, she smiled and invited, "Li Wan, An’an, I bought a lot of food today. Come over to my place for dinner tonight."

Li Wan graciously agreed, "I’ll bring An’an over soon and help you cook as well."

Sister Wang rolled her eyes so hard they almost popped out, then spat disdainfully on the ground, clearly dissatisfied. Seeing no one paid her any mind, her face darkened like the bottom of a pot.

Song Yi chatted a bit more with Li Wan, then went home. Since it was still early, she decorated a little with flower hairpins before starting to cook.

Besides ribs and fish, she also bought half a catty of pork belly.

She stir-fried scallions, ginger, and garlic until fragrant, then added the minced pork belly. As the hot oil hit the meat, an irresistible aroma immediately filled the air.

In an instant, the entire military compound was permeated with the rich scent of meat.

It was just the end of the workday, and most people were walking into the courtyard. They couldn’t help but be curious about whose cooking smelled so delicious.

Next door, Sister Wang’s husband, Wang Zhongjun, swallowed hard and said, "Wow, who’s cooking meat? Smells amazing!"

Sister Wang sneered, "Who else? It’s that spendthrift woman Captain Shang married! Always wasting money every day, either on herself or on food. Captain Shang really has bad luck marrying such a wife."

Yet some people disagreed with Sister Wang, thinking that since Song Yi knew how to cook, Captain Shang was indeed quite fortunate.

When Shang Chen came back from the team, he smelled the meat aroma in his courtyard and quickened his pace.

Just as he reached the gate, he bumped into Li Wan, who was carrying a plate in one hand and holding An’an’s hand with the other.

Li Wan smiled and explained to Shang Chen, "Song Yi invited me to your home for dinner. I shamelessly came along, but I didn’t come empty-handed—I made a plate of chicken feet for you and Song Yi to try."

She wasn’t like Sister Wang, who was stingy and freeloaded meals. If Song Yi invited her to eat, she would bring something to keep up appearances.

Shang Chen nodded and lowered his gaze to see An’an, who was shy and kept hiding behind Li Wan. He deliberately stepped aside, saying, "No need to be so polite."

Li Wan laughed, "Not being polite, just wanted you to try it."

As they spoke, the two of them entered the main room.

---

Song Yi had already prepared the dishes. On the table covered with a beautiful lace cloth, there were four dishes and one soup, four empty bowls, and four pairs of chopsticks.

Seeing Li Wan still carrying the chicken feet, she chided, "Why bring more food?"

Li Wan gave the same response, "It’s not good to eat for free. You made so many dishes—they smell delicious."

Song Yi went to the kitchen to serve rice.

The square table had four people sitting on each side.

Song Yi first picked a piece of rib for An’an. "An’an, try the dishes Auntie made."

An’an thanked her and took a bite of the rib. His large, beautiful eyes widened slightly. "So tasty."

Even better than the ribs at the state-run restaurant his mother took him to.

Hearing this, Shang Chen also picked up a piece. Though he said nothing, his eating speed noticeably quickened.

It was the first time he had eaten food made by Song Yi. He hadn’t expected much, but every dish perfectly suited his taste.

Especially the minced meat with vermicelli, rich and flavorful, perfect for mixing with rice.

Li Wan also complimented the food and teased Shang Chen: "Captain Shang, you’re truly lucky to have married Song Yi."

Look at her—good at studying, skilled at making flower hairpins, and cooks such delicious food. She wasn’t the spendthrift woman Sister Wang described.

If Li Wan were a man, she would want to marry Song Yi too.

Used to her own cooking, Song Yi was not particularly moved but found Li Wan’s chicken feet surprisingly appetizing. Lost in thought, she asked, "Li Wan, have you ever thought about doing business?"

Li Wan paused mid-bite, "Business?"

Shang Chen also glanced at Song Yi.

Song Yi nodded slowly, "Yes, business. Not selling anything else, just your chicken feet, maybe add some duck necks or so."

Just like the later popular brands of duck feet and duck necks, which eventually made a fortune only from franchise fees.

In this era, ordinary people believed that factory jobs were iron rice bowls, providing lifelong security.

But they didn’t know that in a year or two, a wave of layoffs would come. Many workers, including those at the cotton mill where Li Wan worked, would lose their jobs. By then, it would be too late to plan.

She considered Li Wan a friend and couldn’t bear to see such a bleak future.

Li Wan hesitated, "Chicken feet? Would anyone really eat that?"

She had heard of people making money in business, even becoming affluent, but never imagined doing it herself.

---

After Old Geng’s sacrifice, the state gave a compensation sum. If it were just her and An’an, plus her salary, that money would have sufficed. But she had to support Old Geng’s grandparents and her mother-in-law, who was often ill and on medication. Life was tight.

If business could really make money, she would brave any hardship. But she was afraid… of losing money and ending up even worse off.

Song Yi knew such decisions couldn’t be forced and only asked Li Wan to consider it. If willing, she offered to invest money herself.

The topic ended there, and the four continued eating.

Shang Chen had a large appetite. Song Yi deliberately cooked extra rice, but even so, the dishes and rice were all finished. However, he didn’t like chicken feet, and since Song Yi and Li Wan ate little, some chicken feet were left over.

Seeing the half-plate of chicken feet remaining, Song Yi sighed, "If only we had a refrigerator."

Shang Chen, clearing the bowls, paused upon hearing her, "You want a refrigerator?"

Song Yi awkwardly touched her nose, "I was just saying."

Refrigerators had appeared on the market but were expensive and not affordable for ordinary families.

It seemed she had to earn more money—only by making money could she buy what she wanted and live the life she desired.

After Li Wan left with An’an, Song Yi found Shang Chen in the study and pulled out all the day’s earnings. "This is today’s profit—fifty-nine yuan. Count it."

Shang Chen glanced at the money on the table and narrowed his eyes. "You mean you made fifty-nine yuan in a whole day selling flower hairpins?"

Song Yi sat on the army cot, propping her chin with her hand, and nodded gently. "Yes, but tomorrow probably won’t be this much."

That’s how business worked—people were curious on the first day, so sales were brisk. Once the novelty wore off, the flower hairpin business would cool down, and competitors would appear. Whether it could still make money was uncertain.

She now hoped Li Wan would join her in business; that way, they could earn faster. Otherwise, making just a few dozen a day, who knew when they’d get rich.

Shang Chen: "…"

He pursed his lips, "Do you know the current average monthly wage in the country?"

Song Yi, puzzled, "Yes, according to national statistics, it’s about seventy or eighty yuan a month."

Shang Chen said indifferently, "So you’re telling me that with one day’s work, you earned almost a month’s wage for many people—and say you didn’t make much?"

His own monthly salary plus subsidies was only about one hundred forty yuan. Very well, he realized for the first time that his little wife knew exactly how to touch a man’s heart—especially his.

Song Yi: "…"

How could she explain for him to believe she wasn’t bragging?