Pretty and charming, dressed in the 90s, she's good at everything from making money to causing

Boss Fu sat from dawn till dusk once again.

This time, however, he couldn't smoke all night long.

Because Mrs. Fu simply couldn't stand it anymore.

"They've all been sold, so why are you still worried?"

Mrs. Fu handed him a bowl of mixed noodles with soybean paste.

Fragrant fried noodles with soybean paste are Mr. Fu's favorite dish.

He's a picky eater; no noodle shop outside can satisfy his palate, but he can never get enough of his wife's cooking.

But today, even this Zhajiangmian (noodles with soybean paste) doesn't taste good.

Mr. Fu stirred the noodles unconsciously, not putting them in his mouth for a long time.

Mrs. Fu turned her head to look at him and sighed silently.

“If you’re really not satisfied, then do it again.” Mrs. Fu looked up at the night sky, swinging her legs like a child. “The factory hasn’t been sold yet, has it?”

She didn't really care whether her husband was a factory manager or a retired old man.

No matter who he is, he is her husband.

She wanted to see him smile.

Mr. Fu sighed deeply, and for the first time, he confided his work troubles to his wife: "That young woman gave me an idea today... there's a chance to save the factory..."

In the past, he was reluctant to talk to his wife about his work.

Because he found those trivial matters annoying and didn't want them to bother her.

But today, he feels that no matter what choice he makes, it will be wrong, so he wants some advice and wants to know what his always smiling mistress would decide.

Mrs. Fu paused for a moment, then smiled and said, "That's great."

Mr. Fu stared at her intently for a long while, making sure she really didn't intend to say anything more, before smiling helplessly: "Why do you say that again..."

Mrs. Fu tilted her head slightly, the fine lines at the corners of her eyes lifting slightly, as if she were smiling.

“The factory is like our little daughter. She’s been sickly since birth. We can’t afford to treat her anymore, so we thought of giving her to a family with the means… But now someone has given us a folk remedy, and we have the chance to cure her ourselves. Isn’t that a good thing?”

It's like chatting casually, and even the metaphors are very down-to-earth.

Mr. Fu held the bowl, his hands trembling involuntarily.

Indeed, to him, the factory was like his second child.

He invested money and time in it, putting in a lot of effort in the hope that it would succeed.

Now that he has a chance to make his long-cherished wish come true, how could he not be tempted?

Feeling attracted is human nature, a natural human emotion, but—

“But I’m afraid this time it won’t work out again, and I’ll lose all that 300,000 yuan. Then…” Mr. Fu didn’t flinch. He looked directly into his wife’s eyes and expressed his hesitation. “Besides, I’ve already promised you that I’m going to retire.”

Mrs. Fu chuckled and patted his shoulder lightly.

Do you remember how much you earned when we first got married?

"Ok?"

"Thirty-nine yuan and eighty cents."

Mrs. Fu smiled and said, "I can make ends meet with 39.8 yuan a month, so what can't I make ends meet these days?"

Mr. Fu remained silent, staring intently at her.

Mrs. Fu took the bowl of noodles from his hand, stirred the slightly clumped noodles again, and said in a light tone, "Old Fu, if you think about something for three hours, you'll have countless worries—even a pie falling from the sky can burn your scalp, there's no such thing as a perfect thing."

"I don't know when I will die, but I know that I am smiling and happy today, so I will not regret it if I die tomorrow."

She handed the bowl of noodles back to him: "Old Fu, I'm not afraid of living in poverty, but I'm afraid you'll regret this little thing for thirty or forty years. That kind of life is truly hopeless."

Her eyes weren't particularly bright, but their color was gentle, like the only freshwater pond on a deserted island at sea, calm and still, yet making anyone who fell into it feel exceptionally at ease.

Mr. Fu silently accepted the bowl of noodles.

He ate a bite of the slightly cool noodles.

It's still the same flavor he loves.

I took another bite.

"Let's do it."

He said vaguely.

……

"Hey, do you think Uncle Fu can make it?"

Duan Jun asked while accompanying Lin Ting shopping at the mall.

Lin Ting was carefully selecting a gift when she heard this, and casually replied, "How would I know?"

"How could you not know?"

"You really think I'm some kind of fortune teller on a Tianqiao bridge?"

Lin Tingchao rolled her eyes at her, then pointed to a set of porcelain and gestured for the waiter to wrap it up for her.

Duan Jun looked at her, quite puzzled: "Why did you suddenly decide to buy this?"

Lin Ting smiled and said, "It's a gift."

Duan Jun raised an eyebrow and glanced again at the tea set that Lin Ting had bought, which was priced above average but had an exceptionally elegant and beautiful design.

For a moment, she couldn't think of anyone Lin Ting would give this to. After thinking for a while, she asked, "To worship Confucius?"

Lin Ting paused slightly, and after a moment of silence, nodded: "Although it's not quite, it's close enough."

Duan Jun: "...?"

Duan Jun was extremely curious about who Lin wanted to visit.

In her view, Lin Tingxuan's gift fell into the category of "insufficient service and offending people instead".

It's neither an antique porcelain piece from the Ming or Qing dynasties, nor a masterpiece by a contemporary master. If you present it to a leader as a gift, he'll kick you out.

Such a gift is more like a small holiday present for one's elders or close friends.

However, according to Duan Jun, Lin Ting's closest relationship in the capital was with Director Zhang.

But didn't she visit Director Zhang as her first stop upon arriving in the capital?

Again?

Lin Ting didn't explain to her, didn't even get in her car, and didn't even bring Monk with her. She just hailed a taxi and left with Xu Tao, whom she couldn't shake off.

"Hey."

Duan Jun patted Monk on the shoulder and asked him, "Where exactly is your boss going?"

Monk stared at her with a simple, honest expression, offering no reply, but his meaning was clear—

Guess I know?

"..."

Lin Ting, carrying gifts, knocked on the door of a home hidden in a residential compound belonging to a certain work unit.

Xu Tao stood at the corner of the stairs, keeping a close watch on everything around her, even more vigilant than when she was with Lin Ting.

"Should we listen to it?"

A gentle female voice came from inside the house, and then the door opened, revealing a woman with an air of authority in her eyes.

She smiled when she saw Lin Ting and opened her arms to hug her: "Oh my, little Tingting has grown so much. Come in and let your godmother take a look."

Lin Ting greeted her in a soft, sweet voice, "Hello, godmother."

She wasn't lying to Duan Jun; the person she came to see today was none other than "the person above her."

The woman in front of me is Ms. Wen Ping, Lin Ma's college roommate, who currently works at the Beijing Municipal Education Bureau.

Lin Ting didn't tell anyone about her relationship with Jiang Zong. Even Jiang Zong only knew that she had a godmother in the capital, but didn't know who it was.

"So nice."

She pulled Lin Ting inside, pointed to the new slippers she had prepared that morning, and said, "Come on, baby, change your shoes."

Lin Ting changed her shoes, placed the gift next to the shoe rack in the entryway, and only said that she had brought her a small gift. She didn't mention anything else and just happily listened to the arrangement.

"I heard your mother got a promotion? How is her health now?"

"Everything's fine, but I'm busier than before at work, and I hardly ever see anyone. You must be very busy too, right?"

"Yes, everyone's busy. It's hard to even write a letter to old friends, let alone get together... You're just like your mother when she was young, like two peas in a pod. Come on, sit down. What would you like to drink? You probably like soda, right?"

Wen Ping looked at Lin Ting with eyes full of affection, as if she could see her own youthful days reflected in her.