Chapter 292: Chapter 292: Harvest

Upon receiving the red eggs, Gu Qinghuan, as usual, sent over two wild boar trotters in return—just as she had done with Xu Meiling. No matter who came, no one could find fault with her.

Lin Xiaomeng did the same, cutting off half a jin of meat to send over.

Xu Huaiyu set off for the provincial capital the day before school started. The Workers, Peasants, and Soldiers University he was attending was located there, so it wasn’t too far away. Including walking and changing buses, it took him about half a day to get there.

Gu Qinghuan and Lin Xiaomeng also returned to their regular work and daily routines.

Because Lin Muyang left for university and Fang Youde was taken away due to his moral issues, the school suddenly lost two teachers.

Principal Chen asked around, but no one was willing to take on a junior high class. Mainly, no one felt up to the challenge—without the right skills, no one dared to take on such a demanding job.

Last year’s graduating junior high class had so many students get into the county high school, so the pressure for future classes was even greater.

In the end, Principal Chen had no choice but to try and shift the responsibility onto Gu Qinghuan.

But he knew that last time, she’d been doing a great job, only to be replaced at the last minute, which had been quite hurtful.

So this time, he called a staff meeting and put it to a vote. All the teachers nominated two people to lead the new first-year junior high classes.

Gu Qinghuan was almost unanimously elected, meaning everyone agreed she was up to the task.

She went along with it, agreeing to take on a class—but only one. She wasn’t like Lin Muyang, who didn’t have to worry about anything at home; she still had two kids to look after.

Another male teacher was also chosen to be a homeroom teacher.

With class leaders sorted, the school was still short-staffed—there was no one to teach history.

To save time and costs, Principal Chen dug out the assessment records from the teacher recruitment at the start of the year.

They’d hired the top three back then, so this time he simply hired the fourth and fifth highest scorers as well. There wasn’t much difference, and another round of exams would yield similar results.

As it happened, the fifth highest scorer was Jiang Xue.

She hadn’t been selected at the start of the year, and after enduring all kinds of hardship, she’d tried to hang herself in despair. Now, in a sudden twist of fate, she was told she could become a teacher after all—a huge surprise.

Being a teacher at a commune elementary school might not mean much, but for her at this moment, it was a rare opportunity.

She really didn’t want to spend her life bent over the fields, facing the earth, nor did she want to be buried in the black soil for the rest of her days.

Taking even one step forward was good.

She happily completed the onboarding process and soon moved into the staff dormitory. Wanting to stick with people from her own brigade, she chose the dorm next to Lin Xiaomeng’s, so the three women ended up living together.

Last year, the three of them had all kinds of issues with each other, but now they could finally sit down and talk calmly.

Time flew by, and in the blink of an eye, it was October again. This time last year, Gu Qinghuan had just arrived—now, everything had changed.

October is the season of harvest.

Besides teaching, Gu Qinghuan also had to organize the students to help with the grain harvest. This year was a bumper crop, and everyone was delighted.

The school had a large plot of land, and each class was assigned labor tasks—this was called balancing work and rest.

As the harvest season began, Gu Qinghuan started biking home every day.

There were so many things in the mountains that could be sold. Zhong Zijun would bring back whatever he found, letting her turn it into cash.

The schisandra berries were ripe again, as were wild walnuts, persimmons, hazelnuts, wild mushrooms, and all kinds of wild fruits.

The fruit trees she’d transplanted into her own space last year were also bearing fruit.

With such a bountiful harvest, she was kept busy non-stop.

She sold the mountain goods Zhong Zijun brought back at market prices and gave him the money.

The produce from her own space, nourished by spiritual spring water, was great for health—she kept that for her own family.

The surplus she mailed to relatives and friends.

Ji Linhai had started his annual hunting season again. With Xu Huaian gone this year, he alone had to provide meat for three families.

He had to finish his own work before he could go hunting, which was quite exhausting.

Gu Qinghuan often found opportunities to give them spiritual spring water, worried they wouldn’t be able to handle such intense labor.

Fortunately, the whole family was healthy—they hadn’t even gotten sick in the past six months.

Gu Qinghuan used the persimmons from her space to make dozens of jin of dried persimmons.

There was still plenty of wild boar meat left in the storeroom—this was from the boar Xu Huaian had slaughtered before he left.

But since she and her two kids lived at the school most of the time, they didn’t dare eat too much meat, so it hadn’t really been used up.

They hadn’t even finished one whole pig.

Gu Qinghuan took out a small wild boar and made it all into sausages, planning to send some to each family.

Chopping up a whole pig for sausage filling was no easy task—her hands would be useless afterward.

So she simply bought a meat grinder, an automatic sausage stuffer, and lots of sausage casings.

Once everything was ready, she removed the pork skin, put the meat into the grinder—aiming for a ratio of 30% fat to 70% lean.

She ground it coarsely, not too fine.

Then she sprinkled in store-bought Sichuan-style sausage seasoning, mixed it thoroughly, and started stuffing sausages.

Sichuan-style sausage was her favorite flavor, and it was the most popular.

Once she turned on the machine, the sausages came out quickly. She tied off both ends with string, then pricked small holes with a thin bamboo skewer—done.

Following the same method, Gu Qinghuan turned the whole pig into sausages.

Once they air-dried, she’d cut off a section to cook—it was rich but not greasy, tender but not dry, perfectly seasoned, neither too salty nor too bland. Delicious whether with rice or on its own.

Late October, early November.

Gu Qinghuan sent out lots of packages in batches. The lady at the post office now recognized her—not only did she send out a lot, she often picked up a lot too.

She sent five jin each of dried persimmons and sausages, along with dried wild mushrooms, hazelnuts, walnuts, chestnuts, and red dates, to her uncle and aunt in the far northwest.

All of it came from her space, so the taste and quality were guaranteed.

She sent Gu Lanting and the others fifteen jin each of sausage and dried persimmons, plus a pile of other dried goods—just in larger quantities.

Of course, Xu Huaian’s family was included too, also five jin each.

Xu Lei, Zhang Zheng, the Fang family, Xiao Zhuo—each got a package.

They often sent her good things too—Xiao Zhuo frequently sent chocolate and imported treats for the kids.

Xu Lei often sent pastries.

That’s how relationships are built.

Oh, and she had to save a share for Zhong Zijun and Ji Linhai. After all that work, she barely kept any for herself.

But she had so much to eat anyway, she didn’t mind.

The melons and fruits Xu Huaian planted earlier had ripened. She often treated herself, and whatever she couldn’t finish, she sold. Some fruits were so rare she couldn’t share them, so she just enjoyed them herself.

She also dried a batch of fruit for her two kids to snack on when they were hungry—this way it wasn’t too conspicuous, but they still got to taste fruit.

Everyone who received her packages raved about the taste.

Because it was so much better than anything on the market.

Especially the sausages—no one knew how she made them, but they were incredible.

Gu Qinghuan often took her little sable into the mountains. The animal was very sensitive to plants and always led her to untouched, pristine areas.

She added many new plant varieties to her space this way.

Now, the animals she raised were almost out of control. With no natural predators, they multiplied freely—especially the wild chickens and rabbits, which were everywhere.

These days, she didn’t even need to hunt to have more meat than she could eat.

Gu Qinghuan sold off a batch, slaughtered some to give to various families, and kept some for herself.

The wild boars had also produced many litters. The piglets grew strong and healthy, feasting on the mountains of vegetables and fruit in her space. The first batch of piglets from last year had already grown up.

A herd of wild boars was a headache, so Gu Qinghuan simply sold ten male boars.

The rest were mostly sows and the pigs raised in her space.

She did the same with other animals—sold some, kept some.

She didn’t sell these animals through the vending machine, but directly to Lu Jianye.

Lu Jianye’s grocery store needed these products, and she gave him a fair price. Since her costs were basically zero, everyone made money.

Lu Jianye knew she liked to collect Maotai liquor, so if he got any without needing a ration ticket, he’d save it for her.

The two families got along well.

Gu Qinghuan basically sent him something every month—sometimes meat, sometimes wild chickens, rabbits, or fish, sometimes grain, sometimes watches or bicycles.

After working together for over half a year, both were making a fortune quietly.

The Yujie Soap Factory had also entered a period of explosive growth.

Thanks to the newspaper coverage, most supply and marketing cooperatives in the province now knew there was a great soap factory in their own province. Not only was the quality good and recognized by the public, but most importantly, it was cheap.

Orders poured in like snowflakes.

Gu Qinghuan gave Xu Huainian two suggestions:

First, use some of the profits to build a proper factory building. With the way Yujie Soap was developing, it wouldn’t be long before someone came for an on-site inspection, and their current little workshop wouldn’t cut it.

Second, keep recruiting young and able workers from the village to help with soap production. Stock up—don’t be afraid of overstocking, because sales would only get better in the future."

"Chapter 293: Fruitful Harvest

Xu Huainian had absolute faith in Gu Qinghuan. He didn’t even need to think—he just made arrangements right away.

Now that the factory’s total profits had reached 5,000 yuan, Xu Huainian was willing to invest. He immediately set aside a budget of 1,000 yuan to build a new workshop—not just any workshop, but a big, solid one, using red bricks and tiles, done right in one go.

Even Gu Qinghuan was a little impressed by his boldness. Given his vision, being able to take this step was no small feat.

The plan to build the workshop met with resistance from Xu Mingshan. He was afraid of losing control.

But now, Xujiatun was no longer a place where he called all the shots.

After all, nothing motivates people like profit.

Where there’s policy from above, there’s always a workaround below.

Xu Huainian gathered all the commune members and promised them that if they agreed to build the workshop, by the end of the year, he could guarantee the value of work points would reach 0.11 yuan per point. And once the factory grew, things would only get better year after year.

In other words, if a healthy adult could earn ten work points a day and worked 280 days a year, their annual work points would convert to 308 yuan.

If a family had three strong laborers, they could easily earn over a thousand yuan a year.

Of course, that’s the ideal scenario. In reality, most work points would still be exchanged for grain to feed the family.

But for a hardworking big family, earning three or four hundred yuan a year was no problem at all.

That was much better than previous years. In the past, the value of work points in their village was at best eight or nine cents per point, and in bad years only five or six cents.

If it really reached 0.11 yuan, that would be double.

Everyone unanimously agreed to build the factory. Xu Mingshan’s lone opposition was useless—he couldn’t go against everyone.

Even the village committee cadres were subtly siding with Xu Huainian.

Xu Mingshan’s sense of crisis was at its peak, but unfortunately, Xu Huainian’s momentum was unstoppable. There was nothing he could do except worry.

Xu Huainian’s factory went up quickly. Everyone in the village, young and old, pitched in. For the sake of their shared future, no one dared slack off—they all worked hard.

Xu Huainian didn’t shortchange anyone, either, paying wages of 0.8 yuan a day.

Once the factory was built, Xu Huainian carefully selected ten strong young men from among the workers to join the soap-making team.

His eldest son no longer helped with soap-making, but took over procurement for the factory, handling all the material sourcing.

In his spare time, he also helped his parents.

Chen Fengqin and Xu Huainian still oversaw the key steps of soap-making themselves, only delegating the actual soap-beating to the workers.

Fortunately, aside from beating the soap, the rest of the process wasn’t too strenuous.

Chen Fengqin recruited a few meticulous women from the village to handle cutting, turning, and packaging the soap.

But this work only took a few days each month and didn’t disrupt production.

When word got out that they were hiring women, many in the village were eager to join.

Of course, Chen Fengqin wouldn’t give the opportunity to those who were lazy or greedy. She carefully selected three diligent women.

Two were hardworking young wives from the village, and Lin Shengnan was also chosen. She was strong and never tried to shirk work—Chen Fengqin thought highly of her.

Her husband, Zhu Chunlin, also worked at the factory and was now the team leader in the soap workshop.

In early October, Lin Shengnan gave birth to a healthy baby boy. Gu Qinghuan took out the money she’d saved for them and bought three bags of formula and various nutritional supplements.

She also sent over the last four pork trotters from her space, along with some milk-boosting crucian carp.

With plenty of nutrition, Lin Shengnan’s baby was born strong, weighing six and a half jin. She had plenty of milk, and the baby grew healthier by the day.

After her confinement, Zhu Chunlin wouldn’t let her go back to work immediately. Only after forty days did he agree, and even then, she wasn’t allowed to do heavy labor.

But with no elders to help, the couple had to juggle childcare and work, which was exhausting. The baby wasn’t well cared for, and they couldn’t focus on work.

Chen Fengqin recruited Lin Shengnan into the factory, which was a huge help for the couple.

When Lin Shengnan worked, she could keep the baby nearby and feed him when needed—much better than leaving him home alone.

It was too dangerous to leave such a small child at home by himself.

Now, both husband and wife earned wages, and sometimes extra work points. Life was getting better and better.

Gu Qinghuan was now earning two salaries. Every month, she got a sum from Lu Jianye, and occasionally sold produce from her space. Zhong Zijun often brought wild goods from the mountains to sell as well.

This autumn was incredibly fulfilling for her—she was always busy making money, and sometimes took time to cook a big meal for everyone.

The sausages she’d made before were a hit. Five jin wasn’t much, and her family finished them quickly.

This time, Gu Qinghuan decided to make more—some to give away, some to keep for herself to enjoy through the winter, whether steamed or roasted.

She used up all the wild boar meat left in her space’s transfer station to make sausages.

Altogether, there were four hundred jin of wild boar, all slaughtered and stored by Xu Huaian before he left.

With new pork to be slaughtered at year’s end, Gu Qinghuan decided to use all this meat for sausages, saving only a few jin for daily meals.

How much sausage can you make from four hundred jin of meat?

The answer: about two hundred and forty jin.

Ten jin of fresh sausage, once dried, yields about six jin. So a hundred jin gives sixty, and four hundred jin gives two hundred and forty.

As usual, Gu Qinghuan mailed some out, but this time only twenty jin each to Gu Lanting’s family and Xu Huaian.

She held off sending to others for now—too frequent, and it wouldn’t be good. She’d send New Year’s gifts at the end of the year.

Of the remaining two hundred jin, she gave twenty jin each to Zhong Zijun and Ji Linhai.

Lin Xiaomeng, after tasting her sausages, shamelessly asked to buy some. Gu Qinghuan relented and gave her ten jin.

Jiang Xue, overhearing, wanted five jin as well.

Gu Qinghuan sold to both at cost price.

She also privately sent two jin to Principal Chen, two to Chen Fang, and one to the logistics teacher.

When she visited Lu Jianye in the county, she brought five jin for Old Lady Lu.

Gu Qinghuan kept 135 jin for herself, leaving twenty jin out as samples and storing the rest in the transfer station for freshness—taking some out as needed. This way, the sausages wouldn’t dry out and get too hard to chew.

At sixty percent dryness, the sausages were perfect—rich but not greasy, chewy but not tough.

After making the sausages, there was little meat left in her space. The lamb was long gone, and there were no wild rabbits or pheasants left. It was time to slaughter another batch to stock up.

Gu Qinghuan picked a weekend, cleared her schedule, sent the kids to help Zhong Zijun shell pine nuts, and focused on butchering pigs and sheep in her space.

With absolute control in her space, the selected animals died quietly.

Two wild boars, one adult ram, ten wild rabbits, ten pheasants, and two flying dragons.

It took her a whole day, until midnight, to finish plucking all the feathers and hair.

The next day, she spent another day butchering and sorting the meat and organs.

She used the pheasant organs to make pickled pepper chicken giblets—so delicious she could eat three bowls of rice.

She made lamb offal soup with the sheep organs, stewed with radish and sprinkled with cilantro—heavenly.

She chopped off all ten rabbit heads and made a pot of classic Shuangliu-style spicy rabbit heads. There wasn’t much meat, but the flavor was amazing—even gnawing on the bones was a treat.

She didn’t keep the wild boar livers fresh, but instead made cured liver.

The key to curing liver is frying the spices—salt, Sichuan peppercorns, star anise, cinnamon, bay leaves, sand ginger, dried chili segments, chili powder, etc.—over low heat until the salt turns slightly yellow and the spices are a bit dry.

Once cooled, rub the mixture evenly over the liver, then seal and marinate for a day.

After marinating, rinse with hot water and hang in a ventilated place for 10–15 days, and it’s ready to eat.

The cured liver isn’t fishy at all, tastes great, and is pleasantly chewy.

Slice off a few pieces each day—it’s rich in iron, goes well with rice, prevents anemia, and is loved by both adults and kids.

After making it, Gu Qinghuan sent two jin to Zhong Zijun, along with some wild boar and lamb.

This year’s wild boar and lamb tasted noticeably better than last year’s.

Maybe it was the spiritual spring water—the meat was juicy, tender, and flavorful, not tough or dry, and the lamb had no gamy smell.

Gu Qinghuan finally understood how some ethnic groups could eat plain boiled lamb in later generations.

Turns out, there really is lamb that isn’t the least bit gamy—just boiling it in water makes it delicious.

With a dipping sauce, the two kids could each eat a jin of lamb. If she didn’t stop them, they’d eat even more.

Gu Qinghuan also sent some lamb to Grandpa Ji. Eating lamb in winter keeps you warm, and old folks feel the cold more.

The old man didn’t ask questions, happily accepted it, and gave her a bag of pine nuts.

Ji Linhai had risked climbing red pines to collect pine cones, and Zhong Zijun shelled the nuts.

Pine nuts are a winter essential—every household stocks up to snack on and serve to guests.

Ever since Xu Huaian entered the Mechanical Engineering Department at Huaqing University, he’d been studying hard, racing against time.

The “worker-peasant-soldier” program only lasted two years, combining study and labor. Learning in two years what others did in four was no easy task.

Despite the tight schedule, he still wrote to Gu Qinghuan every week. As soon as she received one letter, another would arrive a few days later. It was like a long-distance romance—sweet and loving.

In their letters, they shared every detail of their lives, down to what they ate that day.

Besides Xu Huaian’s letters, Gu Qinghuan often received letters from the children she sponsored.

They wrote about their high school lives, thanking her for her support, which gave these rural kids the courage and confidence to face new environments.

Gu Qinghuan always replied, encouraging them to stay positive, work hard to change their lives, and take control of their own destinies.

Every time she read these letters, her heart was warmed. A little kindness could change a person’s life—what a worthwhile investment.

At the end of December, Gu Qinghuan quietly did something big.

She learned by chance that Wan Rong’s brother was a domestic abuser who had beaten his legal wife to death.

Wan Rong’s father tried to settle the matter with money to protect his son.

But the wife’s family refused, insisting he pay the price.

Wan Rong’s father threatened them, saying if they made trouble, their whole family would disappear.

In the end, for the sake of their other children, the wife’s parents agreed to let it go, without asking for compensation.

Gu Qinghuan seized on this and sent an anonymous letter to the county government.

Wan Rong’s father was investigated and dismissed, and the whole family was implicated. Wan Rong herself resigned in disgrace.

Gu Qinghuan had finally uprooted this malignant tumor."

"Chapter 294: Badger Oil and Cotton-Padded Jackets

After winter truly set in, that’s when the real test for the children began.

Most of the kids wore thin, patched-up cotton jackets that barely kept out the cold—so worn that you could hardly tell their original color.

Cloth shoes stuffed with straw were standard issue. They weren’t pretty, but at least they kept the kids’ feet from freezing stiff.

But their hands, faces, and ears, exposed to the elements, were red and swollen from the cold, cracked and bleeding at the slightest movement—another “standard” for everyone.

Yet the children still sat there, writing diligently as if nothing was wrong. You had to admire their perseverance.

If this were today, parents would be heartbroken.

Gu Qinghuan looked at their hands, then at her own, and sighed quietly.

She didn’t dare give them modern frostbite ointment.

But after some research, she learned that badger oil was quite effective for frostbite.

Checking the vending machine, she found that a small tin of badger oil cost three yuan—and that was for farmed badger oil.

With so many kids in her class, one tin per child would cost over a hundred yuan, and there was no guarantee it would work.

No, that wouldn’t do—she’d have to do it herself.

She looked around, thinking that the animal called a badger seemed familiar.

Then she remembered—there was a badger in her own ranch.

She’d caught it with Xu Huaian in the woods ages ago, thinking she’d try eating it, but with so much other meat around, she’d forgotten about the little guy.

With no natural enemies, the badger had spent its days eating and sleeping, growing fat as a ball—she guessed it weighed at least fifty jin (about 25 kg).

Perfect—the fatter, the more oil. After raising it so long, it was time for it to pay back.

Badgers have thick layers of fat, especially around the rump, where it can be three or four centimeters thick, and plenty in the abdominal cavity and mesentery as well.

To render badger oil, you separate all the fat from the body, then slowly simmer it over a low flame until it turns a pale yellow. Strain out the solids, and you have pure badger oil.

You can’t use high heat, or the color and flavor will be ruined.

Gu Qinghuan’s badger was much bigger than average—she rendered a full seven jin (about 3.5 kg) of oil from it, showing just how fat it was.

She divided the seven jin of badger oil into small tins, each holding 50 grams.

In total, she filled seventy tins.

She gave one tin each to every child in her class who suffered from frostbite—after all, these were her own students, and she felt a special bond with them.

The remaining forty tins she distributed evenly among the other classes, two or three per class, to be managed by the class monitors. Any child who needed it could ask the monitor for some.

She couldn’t provide a tin for every student in the school, so this was the best she could do.

Maybe because the badger had lived in her ranch’s special space for a year, the oil’s effect on frostbite was remarkable—almost immediate. After just a few days, the children’s hands showed clear improvement, no more cracks.

Everyone was impressed. The teacher in charge of logistics even came to ask where she’d gotten the badger oil, saying it worked far better than anything they’d used before, and that they wanted to buy some every year for the kids.

Of course, Gu Qinghuan couldn’t tell the truth, so she just said she’d bought it from outside, but couldn’t find the seller anymore.

After winter set in, Gu Qinghuan quietly did something else big.

She bought a thousand old-style thick cotton-padded jackets from the vending machine.

Because the style was so outdated, nobody wanted them, and they’d been sitting in storage for ages. The vendor was clearing them out for just 99 yuan each.

But for Gu Qinghuan, the price showed up as 0.99 yuan per jacket.

At 0.99 yuan each, why hesitate? Who needs a bicycle when you can get a jacket for less than a yuan?

Though the style was old and the colors weren’t pretty, that was exactly what she wanted—something that fit the era.

And in this time, they were actually considered pretty fashionable, with thick, real cotton stuffing.

She ordered a thousand jackets in various sizes for different age groups, spending a total of 990 yuan.

The commune’s elementary school had just over 800 students—plenty for everyone.

Any leftovers could be given to other kids next year—nothing would go to waste.

But she couldn’t donate them under her own name—that would be too conspicuous.

After all, in these times, buying a thousand thick cotton jackets would cost several thousand yuan.

Who would have that kind of money and still work as a humble teacher?

Well, actually, she did—but she couldn’t let anyone know.

On a dark, windy night, Gu Qinghuan left the thousand jackets, all packed up, at the gatehouse.

Early the next morning, Uncle Zhang the gatekeeper opened the door to find several huge bundles at the entrance, with a letter tucked in the door.

The letter read:

I am donating one thousand cotton-padded jackets as a gesture of goodwill.

Please make sure every child receives one—this is very important.

He immediately brought the bundles inside and gave the letter to the principal.

Principal Chen took one look and recognized the handwriting—it was the same as the person who’d donated gold bars before!

This was wonderful—the children really needed warm, comfortable jackets.

So, each child received one, distributed to every class.

Those who hadn’t had a thick jacket finally got one to keep them warm—they wouldn’t have to suffer through the winter anymore.

In the blink of an eye, it was January, and winter break was approaching.

Gu Qinghuan focused on preparing her students for final exams.

With the doors and windows shut tight, two braziers burning at the front and back of the classroom, it was still cold, but much better than the biting wind outside.

This year, the children wore clean, comfortable jackets. Their hands were no longer red and itchy, and their minds were clearer than ever.

Gu Qinghuan paced the classroom, completely unaware that a big surprise was waiting for her.

As soon as the bell rang, the children rushed out. Gu Qinghuan gathered her things and headed out as well.

Just as she reached the bottom of the stairs, she ran straight into a pair of deep, affectionate eyes.

A travel-worn man, gaze full of longing, locked eyes with her in the crowd. For a moment, time seemed to freeze.

Gu Qinghuan, a beat behind, rushed forward, not even noticing when her books fell into the snow.

The man opened his arms and pulled her into a warm embrace—at that moment, all the romance dramas in the world paled in comparison.

After a long separation, Gu Qinghuan and Xu Huaian held each other tightly, savoring the moment.

“I’m back,” he whispered softly in her ear.

He hadn’t told her in advance—he wanted to surprise her.

All the students and teachers looked on. At first, they were a little surprised, but then everyone smiled—not mocking, but a warm, genuine smile.

This era might have restricted people’s thinking, but it couldn’t restrain their souls.

Hearing everyone’s laughter, Gu Qinghuan suddenly realized what she’d just done in front of everyone.

Afraid people would say she was setting a bad example for the kids, she quickly pulled away from Xu Huaian, her face flushed red, and pretended to tidy her hair.

A student picked up her fallen book and handed it to her.

“Teacher, your book,” the little girl said, clearly trying not to giggle.

Gu Qinghuan felt utterly embarrassed—she’d really lost face in front of the kids.

Forcing herself to stay calm, she said, “This is my husband. Ahem, we haven’t seen each other in a long time, that’s all. Don’t you all go copying this!”

The girls giggled.

Chen Fang, who’d just finished class, saw the scene and thought, Young people really are passionate! Not like us old folks!

Several other teachers came over to greet them.

“Teacher Gu, is this your husband? He’s so handsome!”

“We finally get to meet him—what a perfect couple! We always said someone as outstanding as you would have to marry someone equally impressive.”

Xu Huaian was indeed handsome, and he and Gu Qinghuan looked perfect together. No one could find a single fault—except that he was divorced and had two kids. But since Gu Qinghuan was happy, who could object?

After a few pleasantries, Gu Qinghuan hurried Xu Huaian back to her dorm.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming back?” she complained, mortified at her public display.

Gu Qinghuan opened the door and motioned him inside. Xu Huaian looked around the simple room and set down his luggage.

“I wanted to surprise you!” he mumbled, looking aggrieved.

Gu Qinghuan couldn’t resist that look—she leaned in and gave him a kiss.

Xu Huaian, unable to resist her initiative, immediately took control, pulling her into a deep French kiss. If he weren’t worried about the kids coming back, he would have taken things further right then and there.

After nearly a year apart, he’d missed her so much it hurt.

They clung to each other, reluctant to let go.

“How long can you stay this time?” Gu Qinghuan asked, blushing and heart pounding just from looking at him.

No wonder women always say you should pick a handsome man—good for the heart, good for the body!

“About a month,” Xu Huaian replied, sneaking a kiss.

In other words, he’d stay through the New Year, and leave after the holiday."

"Chapter 295: Wild Boars Descend the Mountain