Reborn Little Wife

business

After a long week, even Zhu Chunlai grew restless. He nearly swallowed his pride to reason with his daughter-in-law when the township notice finally arrived - their awaited goods had come. The entire Zhu household mobilized, from the patriarch himself arranging transport to little Huahua helping sort merchandise. When combined with previous stock, the variety impressed even Feng Zhen. "I"d pay good money for these myself," she admitted.

The lunar new year loomed a month away. "Xiao Ling, aren"t we starting too late? Earlier sales might"ve been better," Zhu Baoqin fretted, still doubting her sister-in-law"s decision.

Zhong Ling patiently explained, "Sis, couplets are easy to copy. If we show profits first, copycats will swarm like locusts." The logic finally clicked for Zhu Baoqin.

On Tuesday"s market day at Evergreen Township, Zhong Ling wanted to join the sales team but got relegated to babysitting. "You"ll catch chill," they insisted. By 12:30PM, her simmering pot of pickled cabbage soup waited with beaten eggs ready for frying. When the sellers finally returned at 1:30PM without remaining stock, their flushed faces told the success story before words could.

"Well? How much?" Feng Zhen blurted first. Zhu Chunlai emerged half-shod from his room.

"Over two hundred yuan!" Zhu Baoqin nearly shouted. "We"d have sold more if the village truck hadn"t left!"

Ding Rong added excitedly, "You should"ve seen the crowd asking about suppliers!"

Feng Zhen wrung her hands. "But if today"s sales were this good..."

"Don"t worry," Zhong Ling interjected calmly. "Competitors barely made a dent today."

As the family gathered around steaming bowls, Zhong Ling revealed the business magic: "We sell at 5 fen to 1 mao per couplet, 5 mao for premium posters. But our city suppliers charge by the bundle - thousands per package. The margin? Three to fourfold."

Zhu Chunlai"s teacup froze mid-air. "Heaven"s! That difference..."

"Exactly," Ding Rong nodded. "Even poor families splurge on New Year blessings."

The patriarch raised his cup. "To prosperity!"

The celebration barely started when customers began arriving - first village traders, then market vendors. Zhong Ling manned the ledger while others packed orders. By midnight, accounts showed 800 yuan earned - 20% of stock gone in hours. Exhausted yet exhilarated, they collapsed into laughter.

"Tomorrow," Zhong Ling strategized between yawns, "we"ll offer bulk discounts. Build loyalty before competitors catch up."

"Your word is law now," Zhu Baoqin grinned, newfound respect shining.

When wholesale demand exploded next afternoon, the Zhus rode the frenzy. By third morning, Zhong Ling commanded 1,200 yuan capital. During her supply run to town, she secretly bought blue wool - a sweater waiting to be knit for her distant soldier husband.

The letter arrived with the third shipment. Zhong Ling abandoned inventory checks, clutching the precious envelope. Feng Zhen chuckled, "Money can wait when love calls!"

Her fingers trembled opening Zhu Baogang"s reply:

Xiao Ling,All well here. Pursue the business if it brings joy - I"ll send funds if needed. About that night... the apology I never gave. Considering military academy now. Training keeps me busy.

Heat flooded her cheeks. He remembered. He cared. Her reply overflowed with household updates and academy encouragement, masking deeper fears about impending military reforms. How she longed to see his stern face soften in smile!

As lunar year"s eve approached, frenzied sales continued. Zhong Ling implemented bundling strategies - slow movers paired with bestsellers. When Zhu Baoqin proposed last-minute stockpiling, Zhong Ling vetoed: "Market"s saturated." She proved right as demand plateaued.

On their triumphant year-end accounting session, numbers glittered brighter than New Year fireworks:

"Six shipments total. After costs - 11,500 yuan net." Zhong Ling announced. "Sister gets 3,700, I take 6,500. Parents get 200 yuan gratitude bonus."

Feng Zhen protested through tears, "Keep it for your futures!"

"Use our share for roof tiles," Zhu Baoqin planned.

"Better save for full rebuild," Zhong Ling suggested gently. Ding Rong"s eyes lit up at the unspoken promise - there would be more ventures, more prosperity.

Alone that night, Zhong Ling traced her husband"s letter. Firecrackers popped in the distance. Somewhere beyond the frost-edged window, a train whistle echoed her longing.

New Year’s Eve was the most important day of the year. Since Zhu Baoqin’s husband, Ding Rong, was an orphan, the family always returned to her parents’ home for the festivities. Little Hua dashed around the house, chased by Ding Rong, while the elderly couple busied themselves pasting red couplets. Zhu Baoqin helped Zhong Ling in the kitchen. For Zhong Ling, this was her happiest Spring Festival—free from the poverty and heartache of her past life, surrounded by warmth. Only her husband’s absence lingered like a quiet ache.

Though they usually ate twice a day, today’s midday feast would be followed by a midnight reunion dinner. The table groaned with dishes: braised fish, sweet-and-sour ribs, caramelized pork knuckle, along with lighter fare like bean sprout salad and shredded potatoes. Eight courses in total, leaving the family speechless.

"Xiao Ling, you’re the star today. Sit by the hearth—let your sister handle the chores," Feng Zhen urged, pulling Zhong Ling toward the heated kang bed.

"Mom, don’t say that! Sister is a guest. Making her work would shame me." Zhong Ling demurred, ever the dutiful daughter-in-law.

Outside, shadows flickered. "Who’s visiting at mealtime?" Zhong Ling set down her bowl and stepped out. Pushing open the door, she froze. A man in military uniform—dark-skinned, grinning broadly—stood there: Xing Bin, Zhu Baogang’s comrade. Behind him… Zhu Baogang.

"Smells amazing. Eating already?" Zhong Ling stood rooted.

"Who is it?" Zhu Baoqin peered out. "Heavens! Baogang’s back! Why’re you gaping?" She nudged Zhong Ling, who snapped to life.

"P-Please come in," Zhong Ling stammered, stepping aside. To her husband, she whispered, "You’re back?" How bland. She stared at the floor, cheeks burning.

"Let’s go in." Zhu Baogang’s voice was steady, betraying nothing.

"Dad, Mom, Sis, Brother-in-law—this is Xing Bin from the neighboring village. He’ll join us for dinner." His deep, resonant tone made Zhong Ling’s pulse skip. Focus!

"Welcome! Warm yourselves by the kang!" The parents beamed, ushering Xing Bin in. Zhong Ling fetched bowls, avoiding her husband’s gaze.

"Baogang, this your sister? Prettier than Zhang Yu!" Xing Bin grinned. Zhu Baogang stiffened, glancing at his flushed wife. The room erupted in laughter.

"That’s my sister-in-law. His wife," Zhu Baoqin clarified, smirking at Zhong Ling’s scarlet face.

"You never mentioned being married!" Xing Bin elbowed Zhu Baogang. "Lucky b*st*rd!" Even Zhu Baogang reddened now. Zhong Ling wished the floor would swallow her.

"Eat, eat!" Feng Zhen piled ribs onto Xing Bin’s plate. One bite silenced him—he devoured the meal like a starved man.

Zhu Baogang surveyed the feast, realizing his wife’s business had thrived. The meal passed in contented silence, punctuated by clinking liquor cups. By nightfall, Xing Bin—too drunk to walk—was escorted home by neighbors. Zhu Baogang lingered with his parents and Ding Rong, sipping tea, while Zhong Ling and Zhu Baoqin cleaned up.

"Seize this chance," Zhu Baoqin whispered. "My brother’s a closed book. You must open him."

"I… I will." But his sudden return left her unprepared.

"Going to rest," Zhu Baogang slurred, staggering past Zhong Ling into their room.

"Go tend to him," Zhu Baoqin urged. Zhong Ling fetched a damp towel and tiptoed in. He lay sprawled on the kang, still in uniform, a bag tossed aside. Steeling herself, she climbed up to wipe his face. His eyes fluttered open—

Thud. He flipped her beneath him, breath reeking of liquor. "Let go! The door’s unlocked—" His mouth found her neck, hands fumbling at her clothes. A button popped free, rolling under the cabinet. This isn’t how I imagined our reunion… Yet her body arched into his touch, starved for affection.

"Ah… gentle…" He ignored her, lost in fervor. When he groaned "Xiao Ling," her resistance crumbled.

Later, she dressed quietly, tucking him under quilts. "Wolf. Tackling me the moment you’re home…" Exhausted, she curled beside him. Behind closed lids, Zhu Baogang smiled—stone-cold sober.

Outside, Zhu Baoqin eavesdropped shamelessly. At Zhong Ling’s initial yelp, she’d known her brother would pounce. About time.

At ten, Zhu Baoqin banged on the door. "Xiao Ling! Time for the midnight feast!" Zhong Ling jolted awake, only to find Zhu Baogang’s hand cupping her breast beneath her shirt. She slapped it away. "Get up! Everyone’s waiting!"

"What time is it?" His tone was flat, giving nothing.

"Almost ten-thirty. And don’t pretend you don’t know how you ended up here!" She yanked her clothes on, but he yanked her back.

"Enlighten me."

He’s faking! She shoved him, fleeing barefoot. His low chuckle chased her. Since when was he so cunning?

"Who’s a ‘b*st*rd’?" Zhu Baoqin teased, noting Zhong Ling’s flushed face.

"What took you so long? Busy?"

"Sis!"

"Ha! Two peas in a pod—both blushing violets."

Zhu Baogang emerged, uniform immaculate save for a missing button. Zhong Ling focused on chopping meat for dumplings, avoiding his smoldering gaze. If he looks at me like that again…

At midnight, steaming dumplings and a fresh sweet-and-sour carp graced the table.

"Baogang, try these! Your wife’s cooking’s legendary. Even the Zhangs begged her to cater their wedding!" Feng Zhen bragged.

"Mom! I helped too!" Zhu Baoqin protested.

"Ding Rong—back me up!"

"Dad… no hitting on New Year’s, right?" Ding Rong pleaded.

"Right."

"Then… truth: After a month of Xiao Ling’s meals, yours tastes like pig slop."

"Ding Rong!" Chaos erupted as Zhu Baoqin lunged, the family roaring with laughter.

Zhu Baogang watched his wife, radiant in the lantern light. Her shy glance met his—promising later. Her pulse raced. Tonight, his eyes vowed, you’re mine.