Has the Little Money-Grubber Saved Enough for a 'Wife Fund' Today? - Chapter 1

Chapter 1

Drawing the curtains, Long Xuan prepared for her afternoon nap.

Late autumn was exerting its final flare; the sun outside was fierce, its scorching rays spilling onto the off-white curtains and filtering through as a soft, hazy glow. The closer she got to the window, the more intense the heat became. Fearing the heat, Long Xuan walked to the far wall and stretched out her hand to pull the curtains tight, sealing off any leaks of light.

The air conditioner hummed, blowing directly toward the head of the bed. It was Saturday, and the area beneath Building No. 3 was noisier than usual. The little dragon cubs who didn’t have school were flying about, bungee jumping, or obsessively roasting corn with their dragon breath by the shores of Wangyou Lake. It seemed that regardless of age, as long as one was in the form of a dragon cub, the public facilities of Building No. 3 would never go out of style.

There seemed to be some sort of competition going on below; the sounds of frolicking and laughter drowned out the hum of the air conditioning unit, showing signs of growing even louder. Long Xuan didn’t mind. She changed into soft pajamas, walked to the bedside, and lay down, ready to rest. Usually, nothing could disturb her sleep.

The house, however, was exceptionally quiet.

She remembered that twenty minutes ago, her energetic younger sister had stormed out of the house, the pitter-patter of her footsteps echoing all the way to the elevator. Otherwise, she would have heard the sound of her sister and mother complaining about soap operas. When only her mother was home, the TV volume was always kept very low. Although Long Xuan had mentioned many times that there was no need to compromise her own hearing just for her sleep—as she had always been a deep sleeper—Ms. Shen remained stubborn in her insistence.

Exhaling slowly, her consciousness began to sink, and the clamor of the world gradually drifted away. Long Xuan never timed it, but she knew she fell asleep quickly—likely in less than two minutes. On a whim, she began to count; by the time she reached thirty seconds, half of her consciousness had slipped away, and her groggy mind was about to be enveloped by a thick black fog. In the next step, the savage fog would swallow the remains of her awareness and lull her into a deep slumber.

Suddenly, a knock sounded at the door. It was urgent, like sunlight piercing through dark clouds after a storm, stabbing through the fog and hitting Long Xuan’s brain directly. Her eyelids snapped open. Her fair hand grabbed the edge of the quilt and tossed it aside.

Something was up.

Theoretically, she could block out all noise; a few knocks shouldn’t have been enough to disturb her. But she had set a “trigger”—a mental trap that would explode like fireworks the moment it was touched.

Standing behind her bedroom door, she heard her sister shouting, “Mommy, come help me open the door—”

“Open the big door—”

She also heard Ms. Shen walking over in her slippers, scolding her sister in a hushed tone: “Keep it down, your sister is resting. She hasn’t been feeling well these past few days; let her sleep.”

With an “Oh,” her sister obeyed. Her voice became as soft as dispersing water vapor, easily scattered by a breeze, yet Long Xuan still caught it. Her sister said, “There’s too much stuff, I don’t have a free hand.”

Then came the sound of the door opening.

“Where did you go looting this time?” Her mother sounded surprised, her voice rising before she realized her mistake and lowered it again. “Did you go to your uncle’s? Or your grandmother’s?”

Five years ago, her uncle and grandmother had both moved into Building No. 3. They didn’t live together; one lived in the adjacent building and the other lived on the floor below them. It wasn’t that they didn’t get along; they were simply both plotting to adopt another little dragon cub.

Another twenty years had passed, and the entire city district had changed beyond recognition. New housing developments popped up constantly, occupying the empty lots around Xinghe Bay. Building No. 3, caught in the middle, had become an old residential complex. Yet, many people still fought tooth and nail to get in; in this world, this was the only place where one could legally adopt a dragon cub.

Of course, the Building No. 3 of today was very different from the one twenty years ago. Times had progressed, society had developed, and everything was moving in a better direction. Building No. 3 was no longer a lonely, isolated tower; it had become a massive community divided into several sectors. In recent years, the number of dragon cubs and adopters had increased sharply, and the supporting facilities had been upgraded accordingly.

Ten years ago, the Dragon Management Bureau even invited a group of “observers” to move in—famous and prestigious people from all walks of life. They wrote books about their observations and filmed documentaries, showcasing the “clueless and cute” nature of the dragon cubs from every angle. Besides being an adopter, the identity of a “Dragon Observer” was a title people were desperate to obtain.

The one thing that changed repeatedly was the “probation period” for dragon cubs—the duration of adoption. At one point, it changed from three months to six months, then back to three, increasing year by year before being slashed in half. Now, it was relaxed, depending entirely on the wishes of the adopter and the cub. Once the basic assessment was passed, the adoption period could be extended based on actual circumstances, making it very humane.

After Long Xuan’s grandmother and uncle moved in, she and her sister visited often. Long Xuan went more frequently; after all, her uncle was her boss, and her grandmother was her boss’s boss. Her sister, however, tended to get cornered by the two elders for lectures, so she didn’t like going to their homes. Two days ago, when her sister returned from the mountains covered in dust, she hadn’t even had a sip of water before her grandmother hauled her off for a “critical education” session. Long Xuan figured her sister would be avoiding those floors for a while; there was no way she would go there voluntarily.

Her mother must have guessed wrong.

Next came the muffled thud of a cardboard box being placed on the floor, suggesting something heavy inside. Her sister panted and said, “What do you mean ‘looting’? This is a gift from Sister Mumu—a homecoming present!”

“A homecoming present?” Shen Zaiqing pondered the words carefully.

“Yup!”

In her dragon cub form, Long Xi picked up an item and spun around, holding a gift taller than herself. She spun until she was dizzy and bumped into the door with a loud clatter.

Shen Zaiqing watched the dizzy cub sitting there giggling, then looked at the pile of gifts on the floor. This time, she didn’t scold her younger daughter for being noisy. Instead, she shifted her gaze toward Long Xuan’s bedroom door. Realizing something, she murmured two words: “No wonder.”

No wonder the little one had been acting strange lately, and the older one even stranger.

The door being watched reacted. With a click, it opened, and Long Xuan walked out. Her expression was faint, showing no emotion. Shen Zaiqing looked back, her lips curling into a smile. She crossed her arms and asked Long Xi, “Since you took so many gifts from Sister Mumu, did you invite her over as a guest?”

The little cub patted her butt and stood up, raising her voice theatrically: “Of course I did!” Then she changed her tone: “But Sister Mumu rejected me. She said she didn’t want to come today and would pick another day.”

Shen Zaiqing looked at her expressionless eldest daughter and felt things were getting interesting. She continued to pry: “Did she just get back today? Is she too tired from the flight to visit us?”

“I don’t know. I don’t know if she just got back or if she’s been back for days. I just happened to run into her.”

Shen Zaiqing didn’t believe the “I don’t know,” nor did she believe the “happened to run into her” nonsense.

There were three small rugs laid out in the entryway. Two were on the right, and one was on the left. The patterns were all different. The one closest to the foot-washing basin was a whole watermelon; next to it was a watermelon cut in half. The one placed uniquely on the opposite side was a watermelon cut into slices.

Of these three, the “sliced watermelon” rug belonged to Long Xi. It was a gift from her great-grandmother on the day she hatched, embroidered with her nickname “Tie Tie.” She usually treasured it dearly, unlike her mother and sister who used theirs to wipe their feet. After rinsing her feet at the basin, she would always fly to the edge of the rug, sit down, and pull a tissue from the wall to wipe the water droplets off her toes.

She had entered the house so hurriedly today that she nearly forgot the household hygiene rules. She quickly rinsed her feet at the basin and sat on her rug, leisurely drying them.

“So, is Sister Mumu back for a short business trip, or is she determined to develop her career domestically?” Shen Zaiqing nudged the little cub huddled on the rug.

“I don’t know, I didn’t ask. When I bumped into her, she was pulling a suitcase and hurrying out of the complex. I don’t know where she was going.”

“Pulling a suitcase?” Shen Zaiqing frowned. This was ambiguous—was she arriving, or leaving again?

Long Xi, however, was indifferent. She was more concerned with the gifts. She dragged her rug over and began organizing the pile. She sorted them by category, arranging them in an arc, and pointed to them one by one: “This is for Mama, this is for Mommy, this is for me, and this is for Da Cai.”

Shen Zaiqing’s eyes widened. “Even Da Cai gets one?”

Long Xi exclaimed, “Tell me about it! Da Cai’s gift is the biggest! Bigger than mine!”

Da Cai was their Golden Retriever, adopted at the beginning of the year. The three dragons in the house all had their own careers, working with such passion that they were rarely home, sometimes not being seen for half a month. Before retirement, Professor Shen lived a life between the school and the house; after retirement, she just drifted between the floors of Building No. 3. It was lonely and utterly boring.

If she wanted to adopt another dragon cub, there were no extra rooms. Furthermore, her three “vinegar jars” (jealous family members) would flip out. They had strictly forbidden her from adopting any other cubs, refusing to let any outsider “steal her love.” They had held multiple family meetings about it, the mother and daughters uniting so fiercely that Shen Zaiqing couldn’t get a word in. After much thought, she figured a pet was more convenient.

Including the pet, it was a family of five—easy to count, making it obvious if someone was missing.

Noticing a key person was missing from Long Xi’s list, Shen Zaiqing asked, “None for your sister?”

The little cub stood up straight, spread her short arms, and spun in a circle to show she hadn’t pocketed anything. Then she shook her head honestly. “None for Sister.”

Only her sister was excluded.

This was interesting. Usually, the rest of them were just “add-ons”—like the small bowls and basins given away when you buy a large bag of grain. Now, they had leaped from “free gifts” to the “main characters.” This deliberate promotion and specific targeting made it hard not to suspect something was going on.

So… did they have a falling out last week?

The gifts on the floor were exquisite. Long Xuan looked down, taking in all four. They lay there shamelessly, arranged in an arc that looked like a slightly drooping mouth. Dedicated greeting cards were tied to the off-white bows for everyone. There was none for her; her “card” was different from theirs.

Long Xuan thought back to that phone call a week ago.

She wasn’t good at making conversation. During the call, Mu Yiyan had done most of the asking while she did the answering. Inevitably, the conversation had drifted toward the “wife fund.”

It was an unpleasant topic.

The root of it was that her college roommate and secret crush—being a human—could not understand the importance of a “wife fund” to a dragon cub. Two years ago, when Mu Yiyan confessed, Long Xuan had hesitated because she didn’t have enough savings. She hadn’t given a clear answer on the spot, only asking if they could “slow down.”

Slow down? How do you slow down a confession? Once the words are out, can you just stuff them back in and spit them out again later? You either can or you can’t. A straightforward person like Mu Yiyan didn’t understand. She felt that Long Xuan essentially didn’t want to agree and had just found an excuse to reject her. They had parted on bad terms after that.

Long Xuan didn’t know how to defend herself. It was a very real dilemma she faced. Even though she had a habit of saving money since childhood, after only one year of work, she still didn’t have much. Two years ago, looking at a balance she could count on her fingers, Long Xuan truly didn’t know how to offer herself, let alone plan for a relationship.

This time, Mu Yiyan had brought it up without hesitation, asking if she had saved enough. Otherwise, Long Xuan wouldn’t have dared mention the term.

Of course, it wasn’t enough. But Long Xuan didn’t want to repeat the same mistake. In her mind, she had silently mortgaged the house they lived in, her mothers’ wedding house, the cars for the family of four, and every bit of property she had inside and out just to come up with a barely passing number.

Then, she told Mu Yiyan: “It’s enough.”

If Mu Yiyan had agreed to give her her card number, Long Xuan truly would have called an emergency family meeting to borrow the family assets and move the whole family to her uncle’s or grandmother’s house for a transition period.

But Mu Yiyan said she would “think about it.”

And then there was no follow-up.

Long Xuan was anxious for her answer, yet she dreaded it. She had waited a week without a word. She couldn’t sleep at night from worry and had no energy during the day. Now, she felt her judgment day had arrived.

Long Xuan’s eyelids lowered, her head feeling heavy.

Ding-dong—

The doorbell suddenly rang, shattering the silence. Long Xuan jolted. She suddenly had a premonition—her judgment was going to be delivered a bit more formally.

Support Has the Little Money-Grubber Saved Enough for a ‘Wife Fund’ Today?