To Get Married - Chapter 34

Chapter 34

There is an old saying among humans: “When a girl grows up, she cannot be kept at home.”

As Mu Chenshan said, a sixteen-year-old child would have been at the age for marriage negotiations in the past. Nowadays, it’s considered “early love,” but so what if it is?

Ever since Mu Chenshan gave her that reminder, Manzhu began to pay close attention to the relationship between Zhang Ziyun and Lu Yudong. She wanted to know if these two children shared a simple friendship or if there were more complex emotions involved.

On this matter, the more she couldn’t figure it out, the more obsessed she became. Aside from her own daily observations, she constantly tried to fish for information from Mu Chenshan and Yan Chaomu.

Whenever she saw Zhang Ziyun and Lu Yudong getting close, she felt angry. Whenever she heard them chatting happily, she became irritable. Whether it was sending milk tea or eating dumplings together, any small interaction was enough to make her unhappy.

Angry or irritable as she was, Manzhu maintained a facade of being nonchalant, gentle, and magnanimous in public, only tormenting her old friend in private.

To this, Mu Chenshan pleaded, “I was wrong. I really shouldn’t have reminded you. Just assume I was being a big-mouth back then. Don’t take it to heart, okay?”

Manzhu replied, “No. I have to find a way to make it clear.”

“And once you make it clear, then what?” Mu Chenshan countered. “Kick Zhang Ziyun out? Setting aside whether Yudong would be unhappy, even if Zhang Ziyun stops coming to our bar, they are still in the same school and know where each other lives.”

Manzhu thought for a moment and said, “If the situation isn’t right, I will take Lu Yudong and leave.”

Mu Chenshan grew angry hearing this. “Have you watched too many melodramatic idol dramas? Taking her away—to where? Back to the mountains to hide until a demon hunter finds you both and wipes you out?”

“It’s not like that…”

“Then where do you plan to go? What school would she go to? Where would you live? How would you find work?” For once, Mu Chenshan’s tone was exceptionally serious. He said, “Hong-hong, you are powerful, and in the mountains, you are the boss where no one dares say ‘no.’ But this isn’t your territory anymore. This is the human world. No matter how high your cultivation is, it’s useless here. You have to earn a living with your feet on the ground.”

Manzhu furrowed her brows in contemplation.

Seeing that she didn’t quite get it, Mu Chenshan spoke even more bluntly: “Hong-hong, there are too many things you don’t understand. You don’t even have a degree, which is the stepping stone for finding a job. We spirits aren’t exactly qualified to start live-streaming and selling our faces… To tell you the truth, besides me, no one can give you a clean, honest job where you can earn over ten thousand a month just by singing and chatting every night.”

“…”

“What ability do you have to take her away now?” Mu Chenshan added. “You still owe me money.”

Yan Chaomu reached out and tugged at Mu Chenshan’s sleeve, signaling him to say less. Mu Chenshan pursed his lips, pulled over a stool to sit down, and crossed his legs. “Anyway, think it through yourself. If you really want to leave over such a trivial matter, I won’t stop you.”

Manzhu looked up and asked, “Is this a trivial matter?”

“The emotional outlook of young people today is different. There aren’t that many ’til-death-do-us-part’ romances. It might just be a little flirtation that ends in a couple of years.”

“What if it is for a lifetime?”

“A child’s life is so long; it can’t be ruined by a single relationship, can it? Haven’t I told you? At most, it’s a hundred years. When it’s over, it’s just a sad memory. You just have to get through it.” Mu Chenshan advised earnestly, “I’m telling you, Hong-hong, what is meant to be in your life will be there, and what isn’t meant to be cannot be forced. As elders, let’s not worry blindly. Children won’t grow up without a few bumps and bruises. Having one or two memories from youth that are hard to look back on—even if they can’t be forgotten—is quite common.”

Manzhu, rare for her, did not lose her temper. She merely lowered her eyes and fell into a brief, deep silence.

After a moment, Mu Chenshan couldn’t help asking, “Am I wrong?”

“I don’t know.” When Manzhu looked up, her eyes were full of bewilderment. “Maybe you’re right… but I don’t want her to be unhappy.”

If a child can’t grow up without bumps and bruises, then she would rather Lu Yudong remain a child forever.

“I’ll think about it some more,” Manzhu said, going off to a corner to calm herself down alone.

Mu Chenshan rolled his eyes. “Incredible. A snake, worrying all day like a mother over a human girl…”

Yan Chaomu interjected, “I think… it looks… looks like she’s… je-jealous.”

Mu Chenshan laughed. “You don’t actually think Hong-hong likes that girl, do you?”

Yan Chaomu nodded.

“How is that possible? She’s still a child.” Mu Chenshan gave a dry laugh, then suddenly felt that nothing was absolute. “Then again… in the old days, a sixteen-year-old ‘cabbage’ would have been ripe for the picking, wouldn’t she?”

If the old snake truly had her heart moved, it would be quite a situation.

“Chaomu, we need to keep an eye on Zhang Ziyun…”

“Huh?”

“We absolutely cannot let that girl trigger a ‘Man-Red Eruption’ in our bar!”

One had to understand that blind worry and flying into a jealous rage were two very different concepts. If a temperamental older sister got a fixed idea while being jealous, she could do anything!

Considering that Zhang Ziyun’s family was heavily in debt and that Lu Yudong would keep worrying about her until it was paid off—and given that Ziyun had indeed been working very hard and performing excellently—Mu Chenshan decided to give her a raise after a brief hesitation.

From that day on, Zhang Ziyun’s wages increased from the “temporary laborer” tier to the “formal bartender assistant” tier: 200 yuan per day.

On the day of the raise, Ziyun was so happy she became incoherent. She pulled out her phone to share the good news with Lu Yudong, who hadn’t come that night, but Mu Chenshan pinned her hand down.

Mu Chenshan said with gravity, “Work hard. Try not to slack off during work hours. You got a raise because you did well; I hope you can work even harder.”

Zhang Ziyun nodded with half-understanding, put away her phone, and threw herself into her work.

It seemed that from that day forward, Ziyun felt like she was caught “red-handed” whenever she took even a tiny break. During working hours, regardless of whether there were guests, she had to stay dutifully behind the bar. She had to use her phone less and couldn’t just leave the premises. Even if she had to deliver drinks or clear tables, she had to return to the bar immediately afterward.

The sudden strictness left Ziyun bewildered, but thinking about the extra eighty yuan a day—which meant her monthly income could exceed her mother’s if not for school—her motivation surged. She didn’t dare be negligent for a second.

Starting from that day, whenever Lu Yudong came to the bar to listen to songs, Manzhu no longer saw Zhang Ziyun running over to find her while she was singing.

Even though Manzhu knew Ziyun was being managed by Mu Chenshan and Yan Chaomu, and that this was only a surface-level “out of sight, out of mind,” her heart felt somewhat more comfortable. After all, this allowed her to discover that Lu Yudong didn’t seem particularly eager to seek out Zhang Ziyun; the reason they appeared inseparable was simply that Ziyun enjoyed running over to find Yudong.

The forty-odd days of winter vacation passed in the blink of an eye.

As the start of the new semester for high school freshmen arrived, Lu Yudong forced herself to adjust her sleep schedule a few days in advance. Her self-discipline was strong, and she adjusted quickly, entering “study mode” soon after school started.

Zhang Ziyun, however, struggled. She had worked at the bar for so long and, wanting to earn as much as possible before school, hadn’t adjusted her schedule. Consequently, she was dazed when school started—energetic late at night and incredibly drowsy in the morning.

But one thing made her incredibly happy: she had earned over 6,000 yuan during the winter vacation.

She kept only a small fraction for emergencies and transferred the full 6,000 to Zhang Hao.

Zhang Hao was shocked to receive the transfer. “Zhang Ziyun, where did you get this money? Doesn’t your mom only make 4,000 a month?”

Ziyun replied, “You don’t need to worry about that. I’ll pay you back slowly, maybe a thousand a month.”

She figured that by working every weekend and saving on her daily allowance, she could definitely manage a thousand a month.

Zhang Hao thought for a moment and said, “There’s no rush, really. Actually… you’re in such a difficult spot right now, you don’t even have to pay it back. My family doesn’t lack this much. Whatever I want, I just ask my dad and he gives it to me…”

Hearing this, Zhang Ziyun frowned. “I won’t not pay it back. Whether you lack money and whether I pay it back are two completely different things.”

Her tone was very serious. No matter how much she used to enjoy taking small advantages based on others’ affection for her, she wouldn’t have even a hint of such a thought in this matter. She didn’t dare accept a 70,000-yuan favor, nor did she dare owe a 70,000-yuan debt of gratitude.

Ziyun knew that no one would pity her tragic past forever. Her father had been gone for less than six months, and people were already talking behind her back. Those voices, whether sympathetic or sarcastic, claimed that since her dad was dead and her mom had no money, she had owed Zhang Hao so much for medical bills that she could never pay it back; the only way out was to be with him.

Zhang Ziyun hated those voices. Thus, when she gained some ability to repay the debt, she regained the courage to deliberately distance herself from Zhang Hao.

After school started, every time Zhang Hao came to find her during breaks, she would instinctively avoid him or pull Lu Yudong into a conversation, intentionally diluting the “one-on-one” feeling he tried to create while refusing all of his kindness.

For a moment, it was as if she had reclaimed her former pride.

Lu Yudong, seeing this, was naturally relieved.

However, such an obvious attitude would make anyone else realize they had no chance. Yet Zhang Hao refused to give up, single-mindedly acting as a “simp” (a devoted follower). No matter how Ziyun treated him, he worked hard to move himself with his one-sided sacrifices.

This one-sided pressure made Zhang Ziyun increasingly at a loss. She had tried to explain her thoughts—subtly and directly—but found it didn’t work. The inappropriate proximity made her feel suffocated; she only wanted to pay off the money as soon as possible, delete all his contact information, and make a clean break.

Lu Yudong, meanwhile, hadn’t changed much. She meditated for over an hour before bed every night, and otherwise studied when it was time to study and rested when it was time to rest.

In the past, Yudong would bring small snacks made by Gou Hongjie to school every week—sometimes walnuts, sometimes biscuits, sometimes tiger-skin peanuts or roasted sunflower seeds. He always mixed it up. Now that Zhang Ziyun was at the bar, Gou Hongjie didn’t want to show favoritism, so he made an extra portion for Ziyun to bring to school as well.

Previously, Zhang Ziyun looked down on those seemingly rough handmade snacks, but now she was deeply moved. She felt as though she had also integrated into the Not An Old Friend family and into Lu Yudong’s world. This feeling made her feel closer and closer to Yudong.

Lu Yudong didn’t know Ziyun’s inner thoughts; she only knew that Ziyun seemed to have changed a lot, starting from the last winter vacation—that night when Ziyun had a bit to drink, didn’t seem drunk, but told her a lot of heartfelt things.

After school started, Ziyun became easier to deal with. She woke up the moment she was called every morning, folded her own quilt, tidied her bed, and cleaned her assigned area in the dormitory. She didn’t complain about morning recitations anymore, didn’t browse Weibo during lunch naps, and insisted on fetching her own water after evening self-study.

The old Zhang Ziyun was always saying “love you” or “love you to death,” pouncing on her or hugging her for no reason. Now she had matured quite a bit and no longer easily made overly intimate gestures.

Lu Yudong sometimes couldn’t help but marvel that a single job could make a girl who had been a pampered princess since childhood become so sensible and polite.

To this, Zhang Ziyun’s explanation was: “It’s all because Brother Yan is too stern; it made me lose all my youthful vitality.”

As she spoke, her eyes were full of smiles. She didn’t look like she was complaining; it was just a casual quip.

Finally, she asked back, “What do you think of me now?”

“Quite good.”

“Right? I think so too. The world doesn’t revolve around me, after all; it was time to restrain my temperament.” Zhang Ziyun turned to look out the classroom window and smiled. “I want to work hard to become excellent, just like you.”

“Oh, stop it. How am I excellent?” Lu Yudong propped up her chin, her fingers clumsily spinning a pen. “I’m not a top student, and I don’t memorize things as fast as you do. I just memorize by rote.”

Zhang Ziyun said, “In my heart, you are very excellent. Everything about you is good.”

“Your friendship filter is too thick.” Clearly, Lu Yudong didn’t believe a word of it.

Zhang Ziyun merely smiled without a word.

Shortly after the late spring cold snap passed, the weather in Yuanchuan City gradually warmed up. People took off their thick coats, first wearing single layers and then switching to short sleeves.

Lu Yudong discovered that Zhang Ziyun, who no longer followed celebrities, suddenly had a new hobby: she was obsessed with novels. She spent much of her spare time on them and would occasionally show a mysterious smile.

Every time Yudong curiously leaned over to look, Ziyun would cover her phone screen, refusing to satisfy her curiosity.

Finally unable to help herself, Lu Yudong poked Ziyun, who was secretly reading a novel during evening self-study, and whispered, “What on earth are you smiling at every day?”

Ziyun whispered back, “Reading a novel! Of course I smile when I get to a good part.”

Lu Yudong thought for a moment and said, “What novel? Let me see too?”

Zhang Ziyun hesitated, then shook her head. “No… it’s not… it’s not quite appropriate…”

Yudong pressed, “How… how… how is it not appropriate?”

The next second, the two girls, who were gradually becoming more like Yan Chaomu in their speech patterns, looked at each other and burst into laughter, then quickly covered each other’s mouths.

Ziyun thought for a bit and said, “I can send it to you, but read it secretly. Don’t tell your sister, your uncle, or your little master.”

Lu Yudong nodded, took out her phone, and received the document Ziyun sent over.

[My Roommate is Poisonous (GL) by Bored To Death.txt]

Huh? What is ‘GL’?