“In a socialist country, as long as you stay grounded and work hard with your own two hands, you’ll end up with a wife.”

Zhou Sicheng knelt on one knee on the floor, keeping his head down as he used iodine to disinfect the top of his wife’s foot.

Luxury goods, bespoke suits—they were all just superficial bubbles whipped up by capitalist marketing. The hem of his wife’s suit trousers was unraveling at the seams, and when he tried to roll it up just to inspect his calf and knee, the fabric tore apart into two rags with a quiet rip.

Cheap quality.

Zhou Sicheng: “Sorry.”

Xiang Zhen’s calf was lifted and rested on Zhou Sicheng’s knee.

Zhou Sicheng seemed to have gotten a bit tan; his facial features were more resolute, and his physique was leaner, firmer, and more muscular. Xiang Zhen had never seen his husband in a black tank top before—the pectoral muscles beneath the tank top looked full and firm.

Xiang Zhen casually lifted his foot, gently pressing it against his husband’s chest. The vibrating heart beneath the ribcage felt like the most top-tier massager in the world.

The exhaustion from walking barefoot and the burning sting from the hot stones vanished without a trace in that instant.

Zhou Sicheng held his ankle, raising his eyes to look at Xiang Zhen’s tattered clothing. The decorative buttons on the jacket front and sleeves had all dropped off, looking as if they had been through a violent struggle; the shirt underneath only had three buttons left, barely staying together.

Zhou Sicheng’s eyes grew stubbornly intense: “Zhenzhen, where have you been this past month?”

Xiang Zhen had his answer ready: “I went to a village to care for empty-nest elderly people. They were willing to let me stay for free as long as I kept them company and talked with them. There just wasn’t much food around. Next time, I’ll bring you along with me.”

Zhou Sicheng was left speechless; it was indeed something Xiang Zhen would do.

Dou Manning brought over a bag of clothes from the truck, neatly folded inside a dust bag.

“Go change in my room.”

There were temporary sheet-metal cabins on the construction site, and Shen Ku had a private room where he stayed with Dou Manning.

Zhou Sicheng: “Are you full?”

Xiang Zhen: “I’m full.”

Zhou Sicheng: “I’ll help you change.”

Xiang Zhen immediately shook his head: “I’ll change myself.”

Zhou Sicheng wanted to take advantage of changing clothes to check if his wife had any other injuries or had been hit by anyone. In the past, Xiang Zhen had never resisted letting him help him change, yet he refused right at this moment.

Zhou Sicheng: “Baby, let me help you.”

Xiang Zhen shook his head firmly: “No way. Let Manning help me.”

Facing the wife he had just recovered, Zhou Sicheng didn’t dare say a single harsh word, only yielding to Xiang Zhen’s wishes. He carried him into Dou Manning’s room, stepping out to whisper to Dou Manning in a low voice: “Help me check if he has any injuries.”

Dou Manning: “Oh, alright.”

Zhou Sicheng held back his anxiety and said: “Be thorough.”

If this weren’t Dou Manning and Shen Ku’s room, he would have installed a hidden surveillance camera already.

Dou Manning shut the door, asking softly: “Zhenzhen, didn’t you go to the Greater Khingan Mountains? Zhou Sicheng went there and couldn’t find you.”

Xiang Zhen froze. Zhou Sicheng went into the mountains to look for him?

Unfortunately, he couldn’t walk any further once he reached Xuzhou; the Northeast was still too far away.

He hooked his finger, beckoning Manning closer, and whispered: “I’m pregnant, so that’s why I was throwing up.”

He hadn’t let Zhou Sicheng help him change because he was afraid his bulging lower abdomen would be seen. How was he supposed to tell Zhou Sicheng that he was pregnant?

Actually, that part was easy to explain.

The real problem was that his husband was out of money now.

People online said that if you didn’t have money, you shouldn’t have kids. Back when they still lived in the rented apartment, Yueyue used to tell him all the time: “Good thing you two guys can’t pop out a baby, otherwise I’d have to drive a forklift to force a breakup.”

Whether Yueyue could drive a forklift remained unknown, but his husband was a truck driver now.

Running a truck together as a husband-and-husband duo sounded wonderful, but having a baby on a freight truck wasn’t quite so pleasant.

On top of that, Xiang Zhen felt extremely guilty, worried that if he revealed his pregnancy, Zhou Sicheng would grow anxious over his lack of money.

Actually, you could still have a baby without money—the little sunflower seed could grow up drinking dew drops! If they really couldn’t afford it, they could always ask Aunt Guihua for help.

Xiang Zhen didn’t dare ask Zhou Sicheng how much money he had left either; if it turned out he had spent all his remaining savings buying that big heavy truck, wouldn’t asking make things awkward?

A virtuous wife shouldn’t constantly bring up money with her husband.

Besides, Zhou Sicheng drove a truck surely because he had once mentioned wanting to do so.

Xiang Zhen decided to find a more suitable opportunity before telling his husband.

Dou Manning was utterly stunned: “Spirits can have babies with humans too?”

“They can. I’m already two months pregnant,” Xiang Zhen shared his experience with a serious face. “If the husband is impressive enough, it’s very easy to get pregnant.”

Not knowing what popped into his mind, Dou Manning’s small face turned solemn.

Xiang Zhen stripped off his tattered clothes and changed into a pair of brand-new casual pants and an oversized, loose T-shirt: “Don’t tell my husband just yet.”

Dou Manning: “Alright.”

Noticing a pair of scissors on the desk, Xiang Zhen picked them up, looked in the mirror, and with two quick snips, cut off the scorched hair—leaving the back of his head looking like it had been lightly chewed on by a wild boar.

It only took forty days for a sunflower to go from fertilization to maturity, whereas humans needed ten months of pregnancy.

Xiang Zhen looked down at his lower belly; once covered by the oversized T-shirt, it became unnoticeable.

He estimated that a hybrid sunflower-human seed baby would probably take somewhere between two and ten months.

Maybe four, five, or six months.

Once dressed, Xiang Zhen opened the door, finding Zhou Sicheng standing right outside.

“Husband, didn’t you lack a driver’s license for heavy trucks?”

Zhou Sicheng kept his eyes fixed on his wife: “I took the test. It was very simple. In two years, I can upgrade to drive semi-trailers.”

Xiang Zhen bit his lower lip slightly, flashing a bright smile: “Husband, you’re so smart! Passing on your first try! Truck drivers are the coolest—Maybachs and Ferraris look like crawling turtles in front of a big heavy truck!”

Truck drivers possessed a field of vision elevated above everyone else’s heads, paired with thunderous engines and twice the number of wheels.

Zhou Sicheng had made the right move with this strategy.

Valuation of fixed assets was one thing, but he wouldn’t touch them, leaving everything to professional managers to manage. In the future, he would rely on his own two hands to support his wife.

Xiang Zhen circled the vehicle to admire his husband’s big truck, stopping at the side of the cargo bay.

Xiang Zhen had browsed through “Baby Come Home” family-reunion videos online, where relentless fathers rode motorcycles, carrying photos of their lost children across the entire country.

Had Zhou Sicheng been searching for him while driving his truck, just like those fathers?

Three months ago, Zhou Sicheng would still get awkward and give passengers cold shoulder when driving a ride-share car; now, just to find him, he endured strange looks without a second thought.

Manager Fan would definitely laugh at his husband.

Xiang Zhen’s eyes turned red all at once. Wrapping his arms around Zhou Sicheng’s waist, he thought: Husband, do you know you’re going to be a dad too? You’ll be a great father.

“Husband, a working-class dad is the absolute best.”

People had only ever heard of calling capitalists “father”; how had blue-collar workers become the ultimate dad in Xiang Zhen’s eyes?

Zhou Sicheng patted Xiang Zhen’s head, breathing in deeply as the familiar scent at his hair tips drifted into his nose: “I’ll peel it off.”

There was no need to display his wife’s photo everywhere anymore.

Xiang Zhen watched Zhou Sicheng tear down the search poster: “Husband, where are you delivering your next load of cargo? I’ll come with you.”

Once he got more proficient at driving, Zhou Sicheng had originally intended to run a long-distance route, but he changed his mind now—he didn’t want his wife to stay on the road for too long.

“Going to Suzhou to haul a load of honey peaches,” Zhou Sicheng decided without a second thought, resolving to take his wife on a trip to Suzhou and let him taste freshly picked honey peaches.

July and August happened to be peak season for honey peaches.

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, how did you know I wanted to eat peaches?!”

“You can pick and eat as many as you want when we get there.” Zhou Sicheng opened the passenger door of the truck: “Careful.”

The cab was quite high up. After climbing inside, Xiang Zhen sensed that this truck was far from ordinary. As he buckled his seatbelt, a practical concern suddenly crossed his mind: when the baby grew larger, he wouldn’t be able to buckle the seatbelt anymore.

Then he wouldn’t be able to run routes together with his husband.

Xiang Zhen brought up a suggestion carefully: “Husband, can I put a bed inside the cargo bay in the future?”

Zhou Sicheng: “The cargo bay is strictly for hauling goods. Are you sleepy? Should I take you home to rest?”

Xiang Zhen asked cautiously: “Is it still that original place?”

He didn’t dare call it “home,” fearing it would bring back painful memories for Zhou Sicheng.

After Zhou Sicheng resigned, wouldn’t the villa be repossessed?

Zhou Sicheng: “I moved to a new place. It’s relatively small—do you want to go take a look?”

Heavy trucks were barred from entering the city center during the day, and Zhou Sicheng didn’t feel like returning to that emptily large house anyway.

When Xiang Zhen was a sunflower, it was no different from taking a long nap; he didn’t feel tired at all: “I’m not tired. Let’s go haul the peaches right now.”

Fresh produce demanded timeliness; it would go bad by the next day.

Zhou Sicheng observed Xiang Zhen’s expression closely. Dou Manning had mentioned that his body was completely fine, and except for being a bit thinner due to poor food, Xiang Zhen seemed full of energy.

“Alright, tell me if you get motion sick.” Zhou Sicheng started the truck. The ignition made a loud rumble, and for the first few minutes on the road, it was quite bumpy until they smoothed out onto the national highway.

Xiang Zhen: “The view is great. I won’t get motion sick.”

In all his time driving trucks, this was the first time Zhou Sicheng had his wife sitting in the passenger seat.

When resting at service areas, he had encountered many husband-and-wife trucker teams, many of whom were both licensed drivers who cooked their own meals at the service area.

He had even accepted a meal cooked by one such couple once.

The husband was quite familiar with strangers, asking Zhou Sicheng: “We truck drivers are away from home every day—are you married?”

Zhou Sicheng: “I am.”

The man said: “Just got married, right? It’s best for a couple to work in the same place.”

Zhou Sicheng let out an “Mm”: “I can’t find my wife. Big brother, you travel far and wide—please keep an eye out for me.”

Only then did the man notice that Zhou Sicheng’s truck was plastered with a missing person poster, leaving him momentarily speechless: “Ah, it hasn’t been easy for you. I’ll take a photo, and if I see anyone with blonde hair, I’ll keep an eye out for you.”

Zhou Sicheng said “Thank you,” slipping three hundred yuan into the window of their truck.

Now when he went out, he didn’t carry any Gold Sunflower cards; instead, he carried far more cash on him.

The scene Zhou Sicheng had envied in others had now become reality.

He took back his old words—Xiang Zhen didn’t need to know how to drive; he just needed to sit in the passenger seat eating, drinking, and sleeping.

Xiang Zhen wasn’t sleepy in the slightest, admiring his dashing driver husband the entire way.

Half an hour later, Xiang Zhen asked hesitantly: “Husband, where is my phone?”

Zhou Sicheng: “You finally remember to bring a phone when going out?”

Xiang Zhen: “I’ll bring it every time from now on.”

Zhou Sicheng: “Open the compartment in front of you.”

Xiang Zhen opened the compartment and saw both his phone and smartband, fully charged.

“Thank you, husband.” Xiang Zhen put the smartband on first, then picked up the phone.

Opening WeChat, he saw Yu Yueyue’s name and tapped in, wanting to tell her he was back.

[Yu Yueyue: Zhenzhen, where did you go? Why is Zhou Sicheng looking for you everywhere? Forwarded Video / Forwarded Video / Forwarded Video]

[Xiang Zhen: This is Zhou Sicheng. He didn’t bring his phone.]

[Yu Yueyue: You bought so many trending searches, and you still can’t find him?]

Xiang Zhen tapped on those videos, but they had all been deleted. He said blankly: “Husband, did you spend money buying trending searches to find me? Trending searches are very expensive, right?”

Zhou Sicheng: “Didn’t cost anything. Just a matter of saying the word.”

Setting aside mutual cross-shareholding business partnerships, even competitor companies wouldn’t charge money seeing Zhou Sicheng reduced to this state.

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, your connections are so strong.”

With his past connections, Zhou Sicheng should be able to find a new job, right?

An hour and a half later, Zhou Sicheng drove the truck directly into a peach orchard.

Secretary Gao had made arrangements in advance, stating that Zhoufu Group’s cafeteria needed to purchase 1,000 boxes of honey peaches, and the company was sending a truck to transport them.

The fruit farmer hurriedly gathered workers to pick them; several hundred boxes were already stacked by the roadside, with more being harvested continuously.

Zhou Sicheng held his wife’s hand, carrying a twenty-liter container of mineral water, and went into the orchard to pick them fresh.

Large, red honey peaches hung from the branches. Peach trees were easy to climb, so Xiang Zhen stepped onto a ladder, reaching out to pick them.

Zhou Sicheng half-embraced his thighs to prevent him from falling.

“Got one!”

Xiang Zhen jumped down before Zhou Sicheng could even stop him.

Zhou Sicheng poured out mineral water to wash the peach. The fruit flesh was warm from the sun, giving off a sweet, crisp peach fragrance.

Xiang Zhen: “Husband, take the first bite.”

After Zhou Sicheng took a bite, Xiang Zhen ate it bite by bite right from that opening.

His cheeks were flushed red from the heat, looking just like a honey peach.

Zhou Sicheng pinched his cheek—there was less chub now.

Xiang Zhen: “I want to pick a basket to bring back for Manning.”

Zhou Sicheng followed behind holding the basket, while Xiang Zhen handled the picking.

An hour later, Xiang Zhen was full, and the fruit farmers had packed all one thousand boxes, currently loading them onto the truck.

They had set off from the construction site at one o’clock, arrived at the orchard by three, and now it was four in the afternoon. Xiang Zhen hoped to finish loading quickly so they could head back to Haishi before dark.

He didn’t want Zhou Sicheng driving at night.

He began helping the fruit farmers carry the peach boxes; his strength was far greater than a human’s, able to carry two boxes at once.

Zhou Sicheng was directing a sedan through a narrow road at the front of the truck; turning around, he saw his wife loading cargo.

“Xiang Zhen, put that down.” Zhou Sicheng put on a stern face, stepping over to grab his hand to check the red marks on his palm: “Don’t do manual labor.”

Zhou Sicheng took over to carry Xiang Zhen’s load.

Xiang Zhen snatched it back, pulling a stern face as well: “Husband, you have to drive. You go rest now.”

The two stared at each other. After a long moment, Zhou Sicheng compromised: “Only one box at a time.”

Xiang Zhen carried them cheerfully; working alongside his husband didn’t feel tiring at all: “Husband, this kind of life is so wonderful.”

Zhou Sicheng: “As long as you’re happy.”

Once everything was loaded, Zhou Sicheng locked the cargo bay doors and drove his wife back.

Zhou Sicheng unloaded the cargo in two trips—two-thirds went to the tech park housing most of Zhoufu’s employees, while one-third was delivered to the Zhoufu Headquarters Building.

Revisiting his old haunts, Xiang Zhen solemnly instructed Zhou Sicheng not to step out of the vehicle: “Husband, I’ll handle the handover.”

If Zhoufu employees saw their former high-and-mighty CEO reduced to delivering goods for the cafeteria and mocked him for it, Xiang Zhen couldn’t bear to imagine how his husband would feel.

Yet Zhou Sicheng wouldn’t let his wife stray more than a meter from him; unbuckling his seatbelt, he prepared to step down.

Xiang Zhen held him back, looking at Zhou Sicheng with a sorrowful expression: “I’m afraid it’ll bring back memories of the past for you.”

Zhou Sicheng was one step away from swearing an oath that he had cut ties cleanly with his past: “It won’t. Wife, you have to trust my determination.”

Xiang Zhen bit his lip: “I’m afraid that if you stand downstairs, I’ll recall the past too.”

There were countless moments when his husband looked handsome, but the conference room was the most unforgettable. If only he could take a proper look one more time.

Zhou Sicheng instantly fell silent: “I won’t go down then.”

The capitalist mask he had worked so hard to shed couldn’t be brought back into Xiang Zhen’s memories.

Secretary Gao came out to sign for the honey peaches. Seeing the CEO’s spouse busily unloading cargo, his mood grew incredibly complex; after receiving a sharp glare from the CEO, he promptly joined the unloading crew.

Xiang Zhen didn’t trust others to carry them—they were clumsy, and if they damaged the honey peaches, wouldn’t his husband have to pay damages?

“Mr. Gao, I guarantee not a single one is damaged. My husband drives very smoothly. If there are damaged ones, go seek after-sales service from the fruit farmers, don’t look for my husband.”

Secretary Gao: “We won’t, we won’t.”

Who would dare?

That evening, employees leaving late all tasted the honey peaches personally delivered by CEO Zhou—picked less than five hours off the tree, exceptionally fragrant and sweet!

Zhou Sicheng brought Xiang Zhen back to his new home.

Zhou Sicheng’s new home… strictly speaking, was a short-term rental studio apartment with just one bedroom and one living room.

He wouldn’t be staying in Haishi for long, only residing for a night on days he finished deliveries; he had rented a place that had a parking lot for trucks.

Stepping inside, Xiang Zhen saw that the studio apartment contained nothing at all—only a blanket they had used before, proving this was where Zhou Sicheng was staying.

Xiang Zhen felt his heart ache for his husband—what kind of life had he been living this past month?

Zhou Sicheng had ordered groceries in advance, which had just arrived. He said to Xiang Zhen: “Wife, you eat some cake first while I make a seafood scrambled egg.”

“Oh.” Xiang Zhen sat on the sofa. There was a TV, and turning it on, he found that he could still only watch the first episode of the cartoon.

It didn’t matter—as long as his husband was by his side, he could watch it ten thousand times.

Every time Zhou Sicheng cooked, the background noise was always the exact same cartoon.

Whenever it was time for chores, his wife would start watching cartoons—how could he not understand what was on his mind?

Zhou Sicheng used to grumble internally about Xiang Zhen avoiding housework, but now he realized that having background noise while cooking meant the completeness of a family.

Things taken for granted were only realized to be precious once lost.

Zhou Sicheng finished cooking quickly. The apartment was larger than the rented room, at least equipped with a normal dining table.

He cooked one dish himself and ordered nine dishes from a restaurant—he couldn’t let Xiang Zhen go hungry.

Xiang Zhen was so tempted by the food that he didn’t even have time to ponder his husband’s financial situation.

After dinner, Zhou Sicheng offered to bathe Xiang Zhen.

Xiang Zhen declined gently once more: “Husband, you go shower first.”

Zhou Sicheng looked at him intently—fine, he wouldn’t cross any of Xiang Zhen’s wishes now; once Xiang Zhen fell asleep, he would inspect him himself.

Sitting on the bed, Xiang Zhen lifted his shirt to look—after eating his fill, his belly appeared even more noticeable.

It hadn’t been like this in the past; even if he ate a lot, it wouldn’t bulge out like this.

He zoned out for a moment. Zhou Sicheng’s physique was even more perfect than before, and his performance in bed would surely be fiercer than before as well.

Although he had protected the little sunflower seed well, he couldn’t handle an overload either.

How should he break the news?

The bedroom door opened, and Zhou Sicheng walked out bare-chested, wearing only a bath towel wrapped around his waist. He hadn’t bothered to dry off completely—he hadn’t seen Xiang Zhen for five minutes already.

Zhou Sicheng pressed one knee onto the bed, opening his palm to reveal the gleaming golden sunflower hair clip and ring, his voice low and carrying a soft plea: “Baby, can I help you put these back on?”

Xiang Zhen’s eyes lit up—his husband wasn’t poor!

“This can be sold!” Xiang Zhen grabbed the ring and looked at it: “This can be sold too!”

They had formula money now!

Zhou Sicheng’s heart went cold: “Can we keep them?”

Could not even a ring be worn by a member of the proletariat? What should they wear then? A gold ring?

“But we need money.”

Xiang Zhen raised his eyes, grabbing Zhou Sicheng’s hand, lifting his shirt, and pressing it onto his lower belly. His cheeks flushed slightly with embarrassment as he said: “Husband, I’m pregnant.”

Zhou Sicheng remained frozen in his original pose, as if petrified.

For a moment, he suspected Xiang Zhen was joking—after all, he had just confirmed that Xiang Zhen had never taken high school biology.

Yet the tactile sensation beneath his hand told him otherwise—no, it wasn’t a joke, it was real flesh and blood. Xiang Zhen’s belly had grown.

Xiang Zhen shifted forward slightly to make it easier for Zhou Sicheng to touch: “It’s already been over two months.”

Zhou Sicheng couldn’t regain his senses: “Wife, this matter—”

Xiang Zhen: “My mom told me ever since I was little that I could have babies when I grew up.”

He cleverly shifted the blame onto Aunt Guihua—let Aunt Guihua do the explaining.

A loud buzz echoed in Zhou Sicheng’s mind, suddenly recalling when he mentioned to his mother-in-law that Xiang Zhen was prone to vomiting, her very first reaction was grabbing a shovel to interrogate him: “Did you two sleep together?!”

His mother-in-law had guessed everything, yet played dumb. And he himself had been as stupid as a wild boar!

Xiang Zhen admitted guiltily: “I’m sorry, I misled you. Actually, my vomiting was morning sickness, not because of your status as a capitalist.”

“Preg… nant.” Zhou Sicheng blew his top on the spot.

Which meant he had been driving a heavy truck around with his pregnant wife, making him run back and forth loading and unloading heavy cargo?! And then bringing him at night to stay in this godforsaken studio apartment?! What on earth had he been doing?!

Seeing his husband looking like he was having a total meltdown, Xiang Zhen hurriedly soothed him: “It’s okay, we can raise the kid on a budget. If we really can’t afford it, we can let my mom raise it.”

Zhou Sicheng’s face flushed deep red, his pride entirely shattered as he growled fiercely: “I, Zhou Sicheng, haven’t gone broke to the point of letting my mother-in-law raise my child!”