Xiang Zhen had deposited some money at the bank and received a bucket of peanut oil in return. As he placed the oil in Fan Hao’s trunk, he caught sight of the bank’s event with mugwort leaves and zongzi making, looking at it with envious eyes.

However, he had too little money saved to meet the bank’s requirement for joining the zongzi-making event.

Fan Hao noticed this and said, “Just give them your husband’s name. He’s got plenty deposited.”

Xiang Zhen: “Really?”

Fan Hao thought to himself, Could I possibly be lying? What’s the big deal about making a salted egg yolk zongzi? If you wanted to fetch gold bars from the bank vault to wrap inside, your husband could make it happen with a single word.

Xiang Zhen washed his hands and joined several older women at the zongzi-making table.

Ever since his husband took over the cooking, Xiang Zhen’s culinary skills had become increasingly clumsy. The bamboo leaves kept slipping through his hands, letting the white glutinous rice leak out.

The women who came to the bank to wrap zongzi certainly weren’t short on money—wearing jade rings on their fingers and living lives of luxury. Yet, every single zongzi they wrapped came out as perfectly shaped as Aunty Guihua’s.

Also wearing a ring on his finger, Xiang Zhen kept spilling rice everywhere, looking like a truly pampered spouse who had never lifted a finger for house chores.

One of the aunties began teaching him, and Xiang Zhen bit his lower lip, earnestly trying to learn.

Auntie: “You’re just learning and you’re already putting in two egg yolks? One is enough. Wrap it a bit smaller.”

Xiang Zhen: “I want to make a double-yolk zongzi for my husband.”

The auntie froze for a moment, then said, “Your husband must be very wealthy.”

Xiang Zhen nodded: “He’s super rich.”

The auntie chuckled. Who wouldn’t love taking home such an innocent and honest college student? But you really shouldn’t flaunt your wealth like that.

She whispered in warning, “Don’t add Manager Wang from wealth management on WeChat. He’s way too good at providing emotional value. Careful he doesn’t sweet-talk you into buying millions in insurance, or you’ll get scolded by your husband when you go back.”

Xiang Zhen nodded solemnly: “Then I won’t add him, so my husband won’t scold Manager Wang.”

Auntie: ? Wait, didn’t I mean he would scold YOU?

Once the zongzi were steamed, Xiang Zhen took the two he had wrapped himself, and the lobby manager gave him a bundle of mugwort leaves as a gift.

Fan Hao had also completed his tasks for the day: inspecting the branch and keeping the boss’s wife company.

He grabbed a dozen more bundles all at once: “Why so stingy? His husband owns a giant villa.”

Reaping a rich harvest today, Xiang Zhen asked Fan Hao, “Manager Fan, do we still need to go wrap zongzi for the private banking clients?”

Fan Hao: “No need, that’s my job. The only private banking client you need to manage is your husband.”

Xiang Zhen: “Then go ahead. I’m going to send these zongzi to my husband.”

Fan Hao: “You can see him now?”

Xiang Zhen: “I’ll just leave them at the door and go.”

Making it sound like visiting a prison, Fan Hao thought, then said, “If you’re not going inside, I’ll drive you.”

This was Xiang Zhen’s second time at the Zhoufu Corporation Headquarters. So this entire building belonged to his husband—it was so dazzling… no, so blinding.

Secretary Gao was already waiting at the entrance. Taking the zongzi, he exchanged them for Mr. Zhou’s lunch, explaining that Mr. Zhou would be full after eating just a bit of glutinous rice and egg yolk.

“Madam, where would you like to have lunch?”

Xiang Zhen: “I… I’ll go back to the bank to eat.”

I really want to eat with my husband, though.

Fan Hao drove Xiang Zhen back, personally escorting him to the bank’s customer service department to join Yu Yueyue and Liu Xiaofang. “Xiang Zhen, today Yu Yueyue will guide you through the customer service operations.”

Xiang Zhen: “Okay.”

Following Mr. Zhou’s orders, Fan Hao secretly instructed the system to allocate fewer incoming calls to Yu Yueyue, leaving her free to slack off and properly counsel Xiang Zhen.

When it came to slacking off, Yu Yueyue never disappointed Mr. Zhou.

The moment she saw Xiang Zhen, the first thing that caught her eye was the giant diamond ring on his hand. “Your husband bought you a giant diamond ring? I’ve seen this model—it costs well over two million yuan! Ah! Is that 30-yuan hair clip on your head actually worth three million in real life?!”

Xiang Zhen froze, suddenly feeling as though his finger was too heavy to lift: “Two million?”

Yu Yueyue: “The mass-produced ones are two million. The custom piece Zhou Sicheng bought for you is definitely worth far more.”

Xiang Zhen touched the ring, gaining a whole new perspective on just how rich his husband was. He took a couple of deep breaths, afraid to think further into it.

Yu Yueyue rested her chin on her hands: “Rich people really have good taste when dressing up their spouses. Zhenzhen, you look gorgeous.”

Liu Xiaofang agreed: “Mr. Zhou has great taste.”

Xiang Zhen’s eyelashes fluttered. “Stop praising my husband, you guys. Yueyue, I’m still more used to you calling him stingy.”

Yu Yueyue narrowed her eyes. Had Xiang Zhen intentionally posted that 52-yuan red packet screenshot on his Moments back then—creating the image of a stingy husband so others wouldn’t go after him? After all, Xiang Zhen constantly bragged about how handsome his husband was, making many colleagues extremely curious about the man. She had even overheard people in the restroom planning to stake out a spot just to get a glimpse of him.

Ever since Xiang Zhen posted that screenshot, no one was curious about his husband anymore—they only wanted to poach him instead.

If only Xiang Zhen were actually that clever.

Yu Yueyue: “You must keep a tight rein on Zhou Sicheng.”

Xiang Zhen: “I can’t. Just looking at him still makes me want to throw up.”

“Watch him even if you throw up! If I were you, as long as I was still breathing, I’d keep my eyes on him.” Yu Yueyue advised earnestly, “Marrying him means ‘the rich helping the poor to achieve common prosperity.’ If he gives you half his fortune, his wealth gets cut in half! Is there any faster way to deal a heavy blow to a capitalist?”

Xiang Zhen: “…” He didn’t want to damage his husband’s assets; he wanted his husband to be the most powerful.

Yu Yueyue: “Nausea is really nothing. There’s a netizen whose husband meets her once a month and beats her every time, but he gives her one million yuan each month. Even so, both netizens and lawyers advised her to bear with it. Money is hard to earn, after all!”

Xiang Zhen was shocked—fairies could no longer keep up with modern human trends.

Yu Yueyue: “Do you still love him?”

Xiang Zhen: “I do.”

Yu Yueyue: “Then leave it to time. Love can break through all chains. Hopefully it won’t take too long, otherwise… never mind, Mr. Zhou probably loves the fact that you aren’t snobbish or materialistic.”

After thinking for a moment, Xiang Zhen sent a message to his husband.

[Xiang Zhen: Hubby, if I stay like this forever, will you divorce me?]

[Zhou Sicheng: No.]

[Zhou Sicheng: Baby, you are the most adorable idealist.]

[Zhou Sicheng: Wife, the zongzi you made were delicious, I ate them all. I’ll cook tonight; the food will be on the table, eat plenty even if you’re by yourself.]

[Xiang Zhen: Hubby, when I fall asleep tonight, can you come in and hug me?]

[Zhou Sicheng: Remember to sleep early.]

[Xiang Zhen: I’ll go to sleep super early!]

Xiang Zhen put down his phone. “Yueyue, my husband’s birthday is coming up. What do you think I should give him as a gift?”

Yu Yueyue: “He doesn’t lack anything. Just wrap yourself up as the gift!”

Xiang Zhen felt a bit lost. Myself? But we can’t see each other. Throwing up on my husband’s birthday would be a total mood killer.

Ding-ding-ding! Several notifications suddenly popped up on his phone.

Xiang Zhen looked—Yu Yueyue had suddenly become generous, sharing several web novels with him.

“Didn’t you say I shouldn’t read these?”

Yu Yueyue: “Before, I was worried you’d grow even more foolishly in love after reading them and pour your heart out to a stingy guy. Now, I fully support you becoming a pampered wife to a top CEO.”

Xiang Zhen took a screenshot and sent it to Zhou Sicheng: “Hubby, can I read these?”

Fearing he’d be bored alone at night, Zhou Sicheng naturally gave permission: “As long as it’s from a legitimate, PG-rated site, read whatever you want.”

Yu Yueyue: “…” Zhen, you’ve already surpassed 99% of spoiled web novel wives!

After work, Xiang Zhen visited Manning first, giving him a bundle of mugwort leaves and collecting Aunty Guihua’s zongzi.

Careless Aunty Guihua had mislabeled the packages. The bag sent to Xiang Zhen had a note attached reading: “Bai Qi, I hope you are well.”

Dou Manning saw it too and analyzed: “He is a snake.”

In the fairy autobiography section of the Guide to Adulthood, besides the Golden Honeysuckle and the Money Leopard, there was indeed a snake. However, after reading the hard-fought struggle stories of those two predecessors and realizing why Xiang Zhen was vomiting, they hadn’t continued reading further—after all, it was someone else’s privacy.

Xiang Zhen: “The 2012 edition of the Guide to Adulthood added a lot of new content. For example, watching an episode of cartoons after dinner—that was written by this senior, right?”

Dou Manning said with a guilty conscience: “I… forgot to watch it recently.”

Xiang Zhen’s eyelashes trembled: “I forgot too. But since I’m not sleeping with my husband at night, no one will know if I don’t watch it. You must remember to watch yours, though.”

Dou Manning’s eyes darted away evasively. The only reason he forgot to watch was because he had been sleeping with Shen Ku.

Xiang Zhen rested his chin in his hand: “Manning, to be honest… I kind of want to go back to the mountains.”

Dou Manning: “The mountains?”

Xiang Zhen: “The Greater Khingan Mountains. I don’t understand what’s wrong with my body. Maybe returning to where I was born will yield a solution. My husband is so pitiful; I don’t want to go on like this.”

Dou Manning: “But your husband is keeping a very close eye on you.”

Ever since Xiang Zhen moved into this rented apartment, seven or eight bodyguards had been stationed at the door, and drones were even flying outside the windows.

Mr. Zhou had fully learned his lesson, terrified that his wife might slide down the water pipes and escape again.

Fairies certainly had ways to escape, but that would go far beyond the boundaries of normal human comprehension.

Xiang Zhen pursed his lips. In this smokeless war between the proletarian and the capitalist, both were terrified that the other would give up the fight.

Xiang Zhen: “Let’s wait and see. Going back might not help anyway.”

Xiang Zhen stood in front of his old rented apartment for a while, reminiscing about the cozy, grounded life inside.

Zhou Sicheng had said he would move back here with him and pretend to be a driver for the rest of his life. But Xiang Zhen had no way to erase his own memories.

An unorthodox doctor had once approached Zhou Sicheng, claiming he could alter cognitive perception through surgery, but Zhou Sicheng had thrown him out.

Xiang Zhen returned home carrying the bucket of peanut oil and a bundle of mugwort.

Zhou Sicheng’s house was enormous. Xiang Zhen carefully tucked mugwort leaves into every doorway, adding two extra bundles to Zhou Sicheng’s study.

He finished the meal his husband had cooked for him all by himself, read a novel for a bit, and then went to sleep, waiting for his husband to visit him in his dreams.

He slept soundly, dreamless all night.

The next morning, Xiang Zhen sat up and looked around the empty bedroom, completely unsure whether his husband had visited or not.

Little Aoi-Bot waddled over: “Xiang Zhen baby, you’re awake! Today’s morning motto: Master is not a capitalist!“

Xiang Zhen felt deeply aggrieved—did Zhou Sicheng hug him or not?

[Xiang Zhen: Hubby, did you come last night?]

[Zhou Sicheng: Feel your bottom.]

Huh? Xiang Zhen focused his senses to check, but felt nothing unusual. Reaching back to touch his bottom, his fingers caught on a sticker attached to his underwear.

He turned around and peeled it off—it was a red flower sticker that read [5-Star Review].

A top rating!

The corners of Xiang Zhen’s mouth curled up. He found a blank notebook and carefully stuck the red flower onto it.

After getting up and eating breakfast, Xiang Zhen took Little Aoi out for a walk around the villa, secretly hoping to catch a glimpse of his husband.

“Little Aoi, help me find my husband.”

Little Aoi-Bot: “Master already left home at 6:17 AM to go make money!”

Xiang Zhen: “Why does he need to make so much money?”

Little Aoi-Bot: “To raise me, of course! I cost a lot of money to maintain! I spend 300 million every day!”

Xiang Zhen was so shocked he forgot his sadness: “Can’t you spend a little less? It puts a lot of pressure on my husband to earn a living.”

Little Aoi-Bot: “Nope! Xiang Zhen baby, every word you speak to me costs your husband money!”

Xiang Zhen: “Then I’m not talking to you anymore.”

Little Aoi-Bot: “Master asked me to tell you: It’s okay, since the two of you don’t have children, I am your child! When I grow up, I’ll earn lots of money for you both!“

Xiang Zhen puffed out his cheeks. Being a capitalist wasn’t easy either; his heart ached for his husband.

In the days that followed, aside from receiving a 5-star review every morning and eating the dinner Zhou Sicheng cooked every night, Xiang Zhen didn’t see Zhou Sicheng at all.

The therapist had advised that staying apart was their best option, allowing time to fade the “capitalist” image in his mind.

Not until longing fermented into a massive vortex, sweeping everything away like a devastating tornado.

Zhou Sicheng believed it—he had no choice but to believe it.

It was his last straw.

Zhou Sicheng endured for a whole month. The days he spent apart from Xiang Zhen had now surpassed the time they had actually spent together.

On his birthday, Xiang Zhen sent him a picture of himself wearing only Zhou Sicheng’s dress shirt as a birthday gift. Zhou Sicheng endured even that. When he went in to “leave a review” that night, he didn’t get fresh with his wife, who wasn’t wearing anything else—he only lightly kissed him, afraid of waking him up.

Heaven ought to favor him now.

Xiang Zhen hadn’t thrown up once the entire month.

This was a very good sign. The therapist said it was time to find an opportunity for them to meet.

Zhou Sicheng put thought into crafting a grand plan, preparing a stylish, handsome appearance.

He was going to dazzle his wife.