DLGSW 05

Chapter 5 

Wen Yue woke up in the early evening. The setting sun spilled through the window, bathing the room in a soft orange glow that outlined every piece of furniture in warm light.

She sat up on the edge of the bed and yawned, a tear of sleep slipping from the corner of her eye. At the rustling sound beside her, she turned her head and saw Zhou Yao walking in with the bedsheets that had been left out to dry. He placed them neatly on the bed.

Even the table and chairs that had been washed earlier had been brought back inside. The room looked noticeably cleaner and more orderly than before.

“You’re awake?”

Zhou Yao wore only a sleeveless undershirt. The hard lines of his muscular arms flexed slightly with each movement. His narrow, slightly upturned eyes glanced over lazily.

He had always been good-looking—but standing there in the shifting light and shadow, his features felt even more defined. Strong brows, sharp eyes, an unmistakably rugged handsomeness.

Wen Yue stared a little too openly.

In her past life, she had only ever seen men like this on her phone—filtered, edited, polished by beauty apps. Seeing one in person was something else entirely. Her heart betrayed her, beating a little too fast.

He’s really handsome.

If he went into the entertainment industry, he’d probably make money effortlessly. What a pity—wrong era.

She sighed inwardly again.

Zhou Yao frowned slightly. Something about her gaze felt… strange.

But he didn’t dwell on it. After a brief pause, he said, “I’m going into town tomorrow. Stay at home. I’ll leave you the keys to the kitchen and my room before I go. Food’s in the cupboard—figure out your own meals.”

Wen Yue snapped out of her daze. “What are you going to town for?”

“None of your business.” He raised a brow and let out a short, mocking laugh. “What, you trying to control me now?”

Wen Yue didn’t like his careless attitude and huffed. “We’re married. I’m your wife now. Isn’t it normal to care where you’re going?”

Without changing expression, Zhou Yao replied, “Married, huh? Fine. Then I’ll move back in tonight. We’ll sleep together. That’s what married couples do, right?”

“……”

Wen Yue had no answer for that.

Her face turned red instantly, even the corners of her eyes flushing. She clenched her teeth and muttered something under her breath—barely audible, something about him being shameless.

Zhou Yao heard it clearly. And he laughed.

Shameless?

What, wasn’t it normal for married couples to sleep together? Of course, he didn’t actually mean it—he was just amused by her reaction and found it entertaining to tease her.

Honestly, sleeping separately was better anyway. At least he wouldn’t have to open his eyes in the middle of the night and see a tearful, pitiful face.

“Enough.” He waved a hand impatiently. “Are you cooking dinner or am I?”

“I’ll do it,” Wen Yue said quietly, sitting up.

“Good.”

There was a cleaned fish in the wooden basin. Wen Yue used it to make braised fish, stir-fried greens, and an egg-and-mushroom soup.

The rich aroma drifted out of the kitchen, reaching the neighboring rooms of Zhou Laor and Zhou Laosan’s families. They could only inhale the smell while looking down at their own unappetizing meals, muttering complaints under their breath. Their expressions grew sour.

Zhou Yao still did the dishes.

Under Wen Yue’s watch, he reluctantly washed them in hot water twice. His expression was dark, his movements rough and forceful—he scrubbed the bowls so hard they nearly gleamed.

Seeing his mood, Wen Yue sat on a small stool by the stove, resting her chin in her hands, smiling sweetly.

“Zhou Yao, you wash dishes really clean. I bet no one else in the village can do it better than you.”

Zhou Yao curled his lips. “Yeah, and no one else in the village uses hot water to wash dishes twice either.”

“That just means we’re the cleanest, most hygienic people in the village.” Wen Yue blinked innocently, ignoring the sarcasm completely. Her voice was soft and almost sing-song. “You should think about me too. I’m not very healthy. If I eat something unclean, I’ll get sick easily. Then you’d be the one running me to the hospital.”

Her words were slow and gentle, almost sweet enough to sound like coaxing. Under the dim yellow light, her face looked soft and delicate, glowing faintly.

Her eyes curved like crescent moons, lashes fluttering like small fans.

Anyone else might have softened.

But Zhou Yao wasn’t “anyone else.” His body, his temper—everything about him was hard. Even his heart seemed made of iron.

“Great,” he said flatly. “I really married myself a little ancestor.”

“Stop squatting there. Go take a bath. The water in the pot will get cold later—you’ll have to reheat it.”

Wen Yue: “……Fine.”

She stood up, slightly offended.

Bathing in this era in the countryside was troublesome. There was no water heater—everything had to be boiled and carried manually.

The small partition in the kitchen served as a bathing area. Wen Yue mixed the hot water, then struggled to carry the wooden bucket inside, swaying with every step. Water splashed out along the way.

Zhou Yao couldn’t stand it anymore.

He dropped what he was doing, walked over in two long strides, and took the bucket from her.

“Walk like that and you’ll spill it all before you get there,” he said irritably.

Wen Yue exhaled in relief, then glanced at her palm.

Red marks had already been left by the handle. It stung sharply, and her eyes welled up before she could stop them.

“It’s too heavy… I can’t carry it,” she said softly.

Zhou Yao: “……Why are you crying again?!”

“My hand hurts.” She held out her palm for him to see.

The skin was soft and pale, easily marked. Not a trace of callus—clearly not someone used to hard labor.

Zhou Yao clicked his tongue. “You really are a delicate ancestor.”

Then, with a slight frown, he added, “Wait… you worked at your uncle’s house before, right? Why don’t you even have calluses?”

Wen Yue sniffed. “How would I know?”

Even she found it strange.

Earlier that day, she had looked in a mirror while cleaning and noticed something odd—the original body looked very similar to hers. About eighty percent alike. The only difference was a faint dimple she didn’t have, but the original did.

The original’s face had also been clouded with gloom from constant suffering, dulling what should have been bright features. But since Wen Yue arrived, that heaviness seemed to have faded, restoring its natural softness.

As the saying goes—your face reflects your heart.

“Forget it. Go wash.” Zhou Yao didn’t press further. He carried the bucket into the bathing area and nodded for her to go in.

Wen Yue’s eyes curved again. “Thank you~”

Then she happily walked inside—

And froze.

The space was tiny, just enough for one person. Because it never got sunlight, it carried a faint damp, musty smell. In one corner was a drain hole the size of a fist. Above, cobwebs hung from the ceiling. A small recessed spot held a bar of soap.

Honestly, she almost didn’t want to bathe anymore.

But she had sweated during the day, and not washing would feel unbearable.

So she forced herself to undress, trembling slightly as she washed, eyes darting everywhere—up, down, left, right—afraid something might crawl out from the ceiling.

She barely used the soap, just a perfunctory rub before rinsing with water.

Compared to that, it barely felt like bathing at all.

The moment she got dressed again, she finally let out a real sigh of relief.

That bath had drained her energy completely.

“I’m done.”

Zhou Yao was sitting outside the kitchen, his back to the partition. His broad shoulders gave a strange sense of security.

At the sound, he turned. His dark eyes immediately locked onto her slender figure.

Her face was slightly flushed from the heat, damp eyes still curved faintly. Her lips were pressed together, and the little dimples at her cheeks showed again—soft, harmless, almost inviting.

The rose-red floral blouse she wore made her skin look even fairer under the yellow light. The fabric was slightly oversized; the V-neck revealed a hint of delicate collarbone.

Zhou Yao’s heavy gaze made her uncomfortable. She tugged at her clothes. “Does it look weird?”

These clothes were all hand-me-downs from her cousin—things the original owner had no choice but to wear. After her grandparents passed away, she hadn’t owned anything new.

The others weren’t much better, so this was all she had.

Zhou Yao said nothing at first, just studied her from head to toe.

“…It’s a bit odd,” he finally said. “Too big.”

Hearing that it wasn’t ugly, Wen Yue relaxed slightly.

“Of course it is. It’s my cousin’s old clothes. She’s much bigger than me.”

Zhou Yao’s gaze drifted to her thin wrist. “And eat more in the future. You’re too skinny. People will think I’m mistreating you.”

Wen Yue looked down at her own hands.

This body was indeed too thin—unhealthily so. Only a thin layer of skin covered fragile bones. At 160 cm, she probably weighed barely over thirty-five kilos.

Even her hair, dry and yellowed at the ends, looked like straw from lack of nutrition.

“…Mm. I’ll eat more,” she said softly.

“Good.” He paused. “Tomorrow I’ll leave the keys behind the window. Remember to take them when you wake up.”

“Okay… oh, and can you buy a bar of soap? Soap is better for the skin than regular laundry soap.”

She looked at him expectantly, eyes bright and damp, lashes fluttering unconsciously.

Zhou Yao frowned. “What’s wrong with your eyes? Some kind of disease?”

Wen Yue immediately bristled. “Your eyes are the ones that are sick.”

“Fine.” He sighed. “I’ll buy it. Go sleep.”

That night, Zhou Yao fell asleep almost immediately after lying down.

But Wen Yue couldn’t sleep.

Partly because she had napped too long in the afternoon. Partly because her mind was full of thoughts. And partly because she wasn’t used to the bed.

She stared into the dark room, thinking about what she should do next.

She couldn’t imagine spending her entire life in the countryside.

People said the 1980s were full of opportunities—gold everywhere if you just reached out—but she knew herself too well. She wasn’t the type to start a business or chase wealth.

In her past life, she had chosen the easiest path: an elementary art teacher. Two classes a week, no parent meetings, no pressure. Occasionally she took small freelance jobs online—enough to live comfortably.

She also had two apartments in the city center, left by her parents. She lived in one, rented the other. No mortgage, no pressure—just an easy, lazy life.

She had gotten used to that comfort.

She couldn’t go back to struggling now.

A soft sigh echoed in the dark room.

She turned over again and again like a pancake on a hot pan, until exhaustion finally pulled her under.

Half-asleep, she vaguely heard rustling outside—and Zhou Yao’s low voice.

He seemed to be talking to someone.

She forced her eyes open slightly. Outside, the night was still deep and ink-black. Her eyelids felt heavy as stone, so she turned over and fell back asleep.

Inside the room, Zhou Yao immediately stopped speaking.

He reached out and covered Fang Shitao’s mouth, silencing his whispering like a mosquito.

“Speak quieter,” Zhou Yao said coldly. “Don’t wake her.”

“….”

Fang Shitao looked wronged. He was already whispering as quietly as possible.

Zhou Yao waved them outside.

Looking at his tall figure in the dark, Ren Yeliang grinned. “Looks like Brother Yao really cares about his wife. You two have such a good relationship—when are you going to give us a nephew or niece to play with?”

“Get lost.”

Zhou Yao kicked him squarely in the backside.

“What do you think you’re talking about?”

He just didn’t want Wen Yue waking up and crying again.

That girl was like a leaking faucet—once she started, she didn’t stop. Thinking about it was exhausting.

And “give you a nephew or niece to play with”?

He’d like to see them try saying that again.