Chapter 22: Be Generous to Your Wife

For the one hundred and first time, Miss Tang was certain that insisting on marrying Li Sheng, the unfortunate supporting male, was an absolutely correct decision!

“Come on, let’s go to the state-run restaurant for a meal.” After Tang Xin had drunk some cool boiled water, Li Sheng spoke thus.

Although Li Sheng had been to the county town several times for work, he had never eaten at the state-run restaurant before. Family circumstances made it impossible; even when he managed to bring home a treat from outside, it always went to his younger siblings to satisfy their cravings.

The last box of biscuits, for instance, had been something his little sister had longed for, but when Tang Xin said she was hungry that day, Li Sheng naturally handed it over to her.

His lack of romantic involvement in the past wasn’t just because women were picky; Li Sheng himself was a major reason. In his heart, a wife was nowhere near as important as his family.

Back then, “wife” was merely a term for a woman he would have to provide for. Now, with a real wife by his side, Li Sheng understood what an elder from another brigade had once told him: a man only truly grows up and has a complete home when he has a wife.

So Li Sheng wanted to make a good impression in front of his wife, breaking from his usual taciturn self to actively introduce, “The most bustling part of the county is these few streets here. The state-run restaurant, the supply and marketing cooperative, the bank, and the grocery store are all nearby.”

As he walked, he explained each place, his words dry and plain, but fortunately Tang Xin listened with her usual enthusiasm, hanging on to her Li Sheng’s every word.

Truth be told, if it weren’t for Li Sheng’s pleasant voice, she wouldn’t be interested at all. In Tang Xin’s eyes, the so-called county town, at first glance, was less impressive than the rustic inns she’d visited in her previous life.

Here, despite the title of “county town,” there were certainly no high-rise buildings; the tallest structures were two-story houses with an attic. Even these were rare—roadside houses were not all made of blue bricks and tiles, many were mud-brick cottages.

Looking at the pedestrians, not one was overweight. Their clothes, in endless repetition, were shades of black, gray, or blue. Nearly everyone wore patches, and four-wheeled vehicles were rare on the street, though occasionally a bicyclist would pass by, head held high as if driving a luxury car.

Whenever Li Sheng went out, his satchel always contained food—dry provisions prepared by his mother. Before they left, his mother reminded him, “A man should be generous with his wife.”

So today, he decided to take Tang Xin to the state-run restaurant, bringing all his private savings with him.

At this time, rural folks seldom splurged on restaurant meals. Tang Xin was not actually hungry, intending to save Li Sheng some money. She had some goods stored away, but having just arrived, she dared not act rashly, so she couldn’t exchange them for cash or ration tickets.

Most of her good things had been coaxed away by Meng Jia, and she hadn’t received much back. According to the memories left in her mind by the original owner, and what she read in that book, Tang’s father, angered by her stubborn insistence on marrying a country man, would stop sending her anything.

Therefore, she dared not spend money recklessly now.

But Li Sheng, without giving her a chance to object, led Tang Xin into the state-run restaurant and ordered her a large bowl of shredded meat noodles.

There was an extra egg in it, plus a plate of cold kelp and another of sugared tomatoes.

Having read many novels, especially from the era genre, Tang Xin expected the staff at a state-run restaurant to be rather arrogant, with notoriously poor service. But perhaps because Li Sheng’s order was substantial and he didn’t look impoverished, and also due to his own imposing presence, the staff’s attitude was actually quite good.

Soon, their food was brought out.

Tang Xin was somewhat frustrated. “Why did you only order one portion?”

Li Sheng replied, “You just eat.”

He naturally took out the coarse grain flatbread his mother had cooked for him from his satchel and, familiar with the routine, borrowed hot water from the staff.

He soaked the bread in the water, then ate it directly.

Tang Xin said nothing; after all, they were in public, and she had to give the man enough face.

She resolved that once she married into the Li family, she would find a way to bring out the goods stored in her warehouse.

Several times, she’d noticed that the pancakes Granny Li made for her were white flour mixed with cornmeal, but their own family meals were always coarse grains.

In this era, rice and white flour were rare treasures.

Tang Xin didn’t have a big appetite, and lately, unable to adjust to the food at the educated youth’s commune, she often cooked for herself, eating small meals frequently.

So Li Sheng saw his future wife elegantly picking up noodles with chopsticks in her right hand, holding a spoon in her left, her refined manner making her seem quite distinguished.

He regretted not having read enough to describe the impression she gave.

Halfway through her meal, Tang Xin habitually reached into her pocket for a napkin to wipe her mouth, only to find nothing.

Li Sheng understood her intent and immediately offered his own handkerchief.

Tang Xin smiled slightly; a man who carried a handkerchief was quite admirable, at least in this era, it was a good habit.

Widespread use of toilet paper and napkins was still a distant prospect.

She ate half the noodles, finished the tomatoes, and had a few strands of kelp. The rest she refused, claiming she truly couldn’t eat any more.

In the large bowl, a whole fried egg still lay untouched.

Tang Xin wondered if she could pack up the leftovers, but Li Sheng simply took her bowl and began eating it himself with a pair of chopsticks.

Tang Xin stared at him, stunned.

She’d never seen anyone eat her leftovers before, not in her past life or this one.

In her previous life, her family was well-off; her grandparents and parents doted on her, but if she didn’t finish her food, they never ate her leftovers.

In this life, according to the original owner’s memories, Tang’s father and mother had never done such a thing either.

Li Sheng, however, after a few bites, sensed something was off and frowned at her. “You’re not full?”

He thought she couldn’t finish and was helping out, but now wondered if he’d done something wrong.

Tang Xin’s cheeks flushed, and she whispered, “That was what I ate. You should order another bowl.”

Li Sheng merely smiled calmly. “It’s fine.”

In the end, they didn’t buy anything in the county town, just strolled around and went home.

Tang Xin hadn’t brought many money or ration tickets, and in any case, she found nothing in the supply and marketing cooperative worth buying.

She insisted on preparing her own gifts for her upcoming visit, refusing to let Li Sheng pay.

Calculating the goods she had stored, Tang Xin believed they would suffice as first-time visiting gifts, even if all were simply food.

Fabric ration tickets were hard to come by; she’d have to figure that out later.