My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 139: How can the bridal chamber be like this?

Bargaining was an art the old lady excelled at. Whether buying clothes or vegetables, she would haggle down to the last cent, and after shaving a little off the price, she’d still insist on adding a scallion to her basket as a bonus.

Jiang He couldn’t master this skill. Despite often accompanying others to buy vegetables and observing how they did it, she just couldn’t manage it herself. Instead, like Xu Qing, she frequently "borrowed" the fruits of others' negotiations. If there was no one around, the best she could do was to ask the vendor to throw in an extra scallion or a small bunch of greens.

A young girl like her often bought groceries in the area, making her a familiar face to some vendors. They remembered her particularly for her habit of lowering her head to mutter calculations to herself when buying in bulk, double-checking the total before begrudgingly parting with her money.

Jiang He and Xu Qing wandered through the market together. She now knew this place even better than Xu Qing did.

“Have you ever thought about setting up a stall here to sell vegetables?” Xu Qing asked, noticing how she inspected everything as if evaluating whether she could do it herself. Selling vegetables was no exception to her musings—she might even consider growing her own produce to sell.

Jiang He had indeed considered it. As she walked past the stalls, she leaned closer to Xu Qing and whispered, “I have, but after some careful thought, I realized it’s not suitable for me.”

“Why not?” Xu Qing was still mulling over ways to dissuade her, only to find she had already reached her own conclusion.

“I’d definitely lose everything.”

Jiang He gazed forlornly at an older woman haggling over greens with a vendor, sighed wistfully, and added with some bitterness, “They’re just too good at bargaining. If I sold vegetables, I’d lose everything.”

As expected, business wasn’t her forte. The online world was better—no need for endless back-and-forth. Just post the goods on an auction site and let the numbers speak for themselves.

Dinner was simple: stir-fried eggs with chives, sautéed bitter melon, and a refreshing cold dish of seaweed, mixed with minced garlic and chili peppers. Jiang He no longer craved meat like when she first arrived. Two bowls of rice were enough to fill her up, and on days without morning martial arts practice, even one and a half bowls sufficed.

Xu Qing’s snacks were all healthy—nuts and fruit, with no chips or cookies. Even her occasional milk tea was fresh kumquat lemon, so there was no risk of her turning into a chubby little girl.

“I could probably beat three versions of my past self now,” Xu Qing said after dinner. He sat off to the side, practicing grappling techniques he had seen on TV, trying to replicate the dramatic sound effects of air being split. He failed.

“In a one-versus-many situation, you should incapacitate two opponents before they can react,” Jiang He advised seriously, always earnest about martial arts. “Otherwise, two fists won’t beat four hands, and it’ll still be tough. If you strike with your palm at your current speed, they wouldn’t be able to dodge. If you hit their head, that one’s done for…”

“What do you mean by ‘done for’?” Xu Qing asked, dumbfounded.

“They’d collapse on the ground, unable to get up. If you’re lucky, you might even break their neck…”

“I think you’re misunderstanding the phrase ‘if you’re lucky.’”

Xu Qing looked down at his hands and couldn’t help but wonder aloud. Could he really break someone’s neck with a slap now?

He swung his hand a few times and could clearly feel his strength had grown significantly.

“Move aside,” he said.

“What are you doing?” Jiang He watched him grab a cushion from the couch and start looking around, curious.

Finally, Xu Qing found his target: a stool. He placed it in position, set the cushion on it for padding, and practiced striking it with his palm. After a few tries, he stepped back and said, “Testing my strength.”

The cushion was there partly to muffle the sound and partly to prevent his hand from hurting. He didn’t think his flesh-and-blood hand could compete with solid wood.

While Xu Qing adjusted his stance, Jiang He cracked sunflower seeds and watched with amusement, like a spectator at a show. Winter Melon, their cat, lay lazily on the table, flicking its tail as it observed Xu Qing’s antics.

Bang!

With a serious expression, Xu Qing struck the cushion with a low shout, producing a muffled sound. He stood still, savoring the sensation.

“What’s the point of this?” Jiang He asked after a while, unable to discern any difference.

“I can feel my strength. In the past, my hand would’ve bounced back,” Xu Qing said proudly. “You try it.”

Reluctantly, Jiang He gave it a shot. Without bothering to mimic Xu Qing’s dramatic stance, she simply smacked the cushion in one swift motion, producing a louder bang.

“Should we remove the cushion?” Xu Qing suggested, remembering the time she had slapped a vending machine.

“We’d break the stool,” Jiang He replied, casting him a glance before reclining back on the couch and gazing thoughtfully at her hand.

At this rate, when would Xu Qing ever be able to overpower her? If he were a frail scholar in another era, she’d probably be the one escorting him to the capital for exams. Along the way, if they encountered bandits, she’d stand in front of him, fight them off, and then celebrate his success when he became a top scholar and married her in an elaborate ceremony…

Xu Qing finished a set of punches and turned to see Jiang He staring at him, sunflower seed in hand, lost in thought. Curious, he asked, “What are you thinking about?”

“Don’t touch my shoes.”

“??”

“Oh, no, nothing!” Jiang He quickly looked down, a faint blush creeping up her ears.

She had already been imagining the wedding night, but instead of lifting her red veil, this guy had gone to take off her shoes instead…

Xu Qing eyed her suspiciously, about to say something, but Jiang He put down the sunflower seeds and hurriedly retreated to her room, closing the door behind her.

“When I master martial arts…” Xu Qing grumbled, throwing a punch into the air. Then he slumped onto the couch, pulled out his phone, and ignored the strange old lady. Heaven knows what nonsense she was thinking.

Scrolling through his social media, Xu Qing saw that Wang Zijun was having a romantic time in Turkey, riding hot air balloons. No wonder he hadn’t been around for the past two months—he was off enjoying himself abroad.

The lives of the wealthy always seemed so simple and boring. Xu Qing wasn’t jealous, though. He only occasionally wondered what he would do if their roles were reversed. The answer was simple: he wouldn’t trade places. Not in a million years.

By the time Jiang He came back out, Xu Qing was already on his laptop watching videos. He didn’t use an eight-times speed setting, just two times, as he was working on building his movie review channel. With occasional self-promotion and the channel’s natural growth, he had amassed a few hundred followers. He wasn’t sure how many were genuine fans, but he wasn’t worried. He had been through the grind before during college, so he was patient.

Pursuing quality over speed ensured steady growth. Chasing short-term fame might yield quick results, but it also burned out fast. Once someone tasted instant success, it was hard to reset expectations, leading to a vicious cycle of frustration.

“Biu!” Xu Qing playfully made a finger gun and pretended to shoot Jiang He, who was stealing glances at him. He chuckled as she nervously looked back.

Stability was the key to longevity—in both careers and relationships.

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