Uncle Two was a little embarrassed. "Heh, it’s rare that you fancy this thing, Madam. I don’t have any special skill with it; I just thought it looked nice, so I dug it up from the mountain. This thing hardly needs tending; it even sprouts on its own around the New Year—naturally grown, you see."

Old Mrs. Chi fell silent. There was simply no common ground between them.

Still, such a beautiful thing growing wild on the mountain... "Shall we wander around the mountain again?"

Uncle Two felt they were all family now, so touring was fine. "Certainly. I'll take you two elders around. Though the paths up here aren't too bad, it's easier with someone leading the way."

Old Mr. Chi was more attuned to social graces than his wife. "That would be troubling you, though."

Uncle Two thought to himself that these were his niece’s grandparents from now on; he certainly needed to show them some deference. "Trouble? It’s not often I get visitors around here all year long."

Old Mrs. Chi truly loved flowers and was very polite. Whenever she saw a particularly fine plant, she would first ask Uncle Two's permission before even thinking of digging it up.

Uncle Two could see that this lady had come specifically to weed, only her technique was lacking. She didn't clear one spot completely but instead wandered around, leaving large, messy patches.

He couldn't fathom the ways of city folk. Uncle Two led them around the springhead because all the most beautiful blossoms grew near the water—a characteristic he had long noted.

If you were to ask him, Uncle Two believed the water here was exceptional.

No matter how refined Old Mr. and Mrs. Chi were, they couldn't ignore the sparse wooden markers scattered throughout the woods, complete with serial numbers. Moreover, they recognized those things instantly; there was a potted ginseng plant just like them in their in-laws' courtyard.

Old Mr. Chi looked up at the seemingly endless expanse of the mountain acreage. Just how many of these large treasures were out here? He had to admit his granddaughter-in-law was formidable; she had deep roots. His own grandson's wife—what kind of person was she really? Old Mr. Chi struggled to comprehend it.

Old Mrs. Chi murmured, "These are all valuable things. I almost don't dare touch them; we mustn't damage their roots."

Uncle Two waved his hand dismissively. "No worries at all. Go ahead and dig, Madam. A little weeding won't hurt, and these things have been growing for years; they can take a bit of handling." The real reason was that his own stock was vast; losing a few roots here and there wouldn't matter, especially since they were honored guests.

Looking at these specimens, Old Mrs. Chi had only one thought: now she understood why the discussion about the mountain plot was so crucial. Her grandson’s paltry collection seemed insignificant in comparison.

Old Mr. Chi chimed in, "I’ve certainly benefited from these over the years. I have several jars of wine brewed from these at home."

Uncle Two exclaimed, "Oh, you must store those carefully! Yingzi is very generous to you; this is something she rarely gifts to others. These are all wild, and it’s not easy for them to grow this large."

Old Mr. Chi nodded. In truth, aside from the very first time Cheng Ying had given him a few ginseng roots, the rest had come from his own son. He recalled that his grandson had never gifted him any. Perhaps his son was the more filial one, after all. However, consuming too much of this stuff wasn't entirely beneficial.

In a subtle way, Cheng Ying had just made her mark on the old couple's perception. While one shouldn't measure a person solely by material possessions, having some of these worldly goods certainly offered a measure of confidence, didn't it?

When Old Mrs. Chi looked at Cheng Ying again, she felt conflicted. Yet, she trusted her grandson; he certainly hadn't married her for these treasures. The character of their own kin was guaranteed. Although her grandson might be a bit worldly, his heart was inherently pure and noble.

Old Mrs. Chi puffed her chest out again. Her central thought directed toward her husband was singular: "Let's properly sort out our Wuzi's assets; we also need something presentable." Notice the use of the inclusive "our." Old Mr. Chi heartily agreed.

That evening, Cheng Ying prepared stewed mountain chicken with mushrooms—the mushrooms were from last year—along with a cold wood ear salad, half a cucumber, and a plate of stir-fried greens. Cheng Ying personally took charge of the cooking.

Old Mr. Chi nodded with satisfaction. His granddaughter-in-law's cooking was quite good too. "Oh, our Yingzi’s skills are pretty good too! Wuzi is truly blessed in the future."

Cheng Ying curved her lips upward, smiling sweetly and demurely. "If you like it, I’ll cook it for you a few more times."

Chi Wu savored the food in his mouth. He felt his own cooking was slightly superior, but then again, all his skills had been taught by Cheng Ying. She was usually too lazy and enslaved him into doing the cooking. Chi Wu felt this statement could be interpreted another way, and accurately put, it was Yingzi who was blessed in the future. Chi Wu had never once imagined a future where his wife cooked for him constantly; he had never considered that idea problematic. However, since Cheng Ying remained silent and didn't contradict his grandfather, he dared not speak up. So, he continued eating.

Uncle Two chimed in, "Indeed! Our Yingzi has never produced anything mediocre since she was little. Few girls in the village or outside can compare to her. To put it bluntly, Wuzi is incredibly fortunate!"

Chi Wu ate silently. To be fair, the things Cheng Ying could truly boast about were usually things he made well. In the future, his wife wouldn't need to do these chores. Chi Wu reflected that his wife was also fortunate to have met him. How could he let his wife do such work in the future? He would take care of it all.

The dinner left Old Mrs. Chi feeling intensely conflicted, while Chi Wu’s confidence soared with every bite.

Chi Wu thought to himself: a man as perfect as him, a man who matched Cheng Ying’s tastes so perfectly—where else could one find a second? He refused to believe that over the long run, his wife wouldn't see his good qualities. Villagers all said that pursuing a woman relied on persistent attrition; there wasn't that much instantaneous love at first sight. Those were just impractical notions women held.

Cheng Ying watched Chi Wu finish three bowls of rice and genuinely worried he might burst. Even if he experienced a second growth spurt, he couldn't eat like this. "Is it really that good? I'll bring some vegetables down the mountain later, and we can eat this at home too. You should pace yourself."

Chi Wu yearned deeply for the phrase "at home" and "our home." "Mm," he immediately put down his chopsticks.

Old Mrs. Chi’s face turned green. Thank goodness they had food; if this were a few years ago, would their grandson have gone hungry just because his wife told him to? She was clearly displeased with Cheng Ying.

Old Mr. Chi remarked, "Wuzi, this 'teenager eating outsmarts the old man'—that appetite of his is certainly something."

Chi Wu said, "Mm, the mountain food tastes robust, but eating like this isn't good for longevity. Even the TCM doctor said one shouldn't binge eat."

Without needing to look, Old Mrs. Chi knew exactly what her thoughts were: Chi Wu immediately spoke up to defend his wife.

Old Mr. Chi glanced at his wife. Why were you still getting angry in the middle of it? Nothing could overcome having a grandson so devoted to his wife. The old man wisely decided that from now on, he would stay out of the couple’s affairs and stop interfering. He also resolved to keep his old wife in check to avoid making himself uncomfortable; the grandson was clearly delighted, so why should they meddle?

When Chi Wu and Cheng Ying guided the two elders down the mountain, it was already dark. After resting for the night, the family was due to return to the city the next day. The double-seater truck driven by Uncle Gan was once again loaded to the brim with an unknown assortment of goods. No one knew exactly what Uncle Gan had managed to scrape up in the village, but he never returned to the city empty-handed.

Cheng Ying was used to it; even a Japanese sweep-and-burn operation wasn't as thorough. Especially Aunt Two, who packed Uncle Gan nearly half a sack of mixed grains. How could she be so generous? Was this really Aunt Two?

Aunt One had prepared even more this time: five hundred catties of cornmeal. But this wasn't for Cheng Ying; it was grain for her son Cheng Ming, who was going to study in the provincial capital—his entire year's rations were packed in there. There was also millet, glutinous rice, and corn flour prepared specifically for the Old Madam. This generosity from Aunt One was unprecedented; she probably understood that her son would be staying at Yingzi's place from now on, so giving a little wouldn't hurt.

The eldest uncle’s reasoning was simpler: I am not taking advantage of you; I am packing provisions for my own son. Cheng Ying decided not to concern herself with these matters; the younger generation got along well, and they would eventually be paying respects at the same ancestor altar.

The departure was quite a spectacle; many people came to the village entrance to see them off, especially right after the wedding banquet. The Cheng family had hosted over a dozen tables of food, the spread was lavish, and the leftovers were distributed among the helpers and neighbors. How could they not have good connections? No one minded the leftovers; in those days, the remnants of a banquet were truly valuable things.

The happiest person was undoubtedly Chi Wu; his harvest on this trip was the greatest—he had acquired a wife. Cheng Ying looked a bit wilted, having expended too much energy. Also, she hadn't yet shown the Old Madam her acceptance letter.

Meanwhile, Uncle Gan, remembering the source of his fortune, stopped by the county seat and presented the old TCM doctor with a substantial gift, leading the doctor to wonder if Uncle Gan was hoping for a second child, as he truly wasn't confident about that prospect.

Old Mrs. Chi felt much happier returning than when she arrived. The harvest was rich; she was carrying back a huge woven basket full of goods from the Old Cheng family.

Old Mr. Chi thought that his grandson would likely belong to them from now on. He had worked hard, but it couldn't compare to the fact that his grandson’s heart wasn't set on staying. He felt a slight sense of loss. Chi Yong, however, felt nothing; no matter how much trouble this child caused, he would still end up calling him Dad.

With the engagement settled, the Old Madam’s worries lifted. Upon returning home, she resumed her life as an opera enthusiast. However, she made a point of taking Cheng Ming around to show off, telling everyone, "See? We don't just have two university students; we have three!" Imagine the Old Madam standing there, radiating spirit, who wouldn't be envious? What other old woman had the clout to have three university students trailing after her? And each one more upright, each one more promising. The Old Madam's back had never been so straight. In her own words, this was the only time in her life she could be this flashy. Shallow as it might be, she reveled in it. Thus, the Old Madam enjoyed quite a period of glory, even distributing large bags of wedding candies to a group of old friends when her two children got engaged, not caring about the expense.