Chapter 117: They

(There’s a bit of romance here; if you don’t like it, skip to the next chapter.)

The Wen family had no intention of making Li Ye a son-in-law; they simply invited him to stay a few days since the semester hadn’t started yet.

But after several refusals, Li Ye finally agreed to stay just one night at the Wen household.

Though the Ke family was warm and welcoming, they weren’t yet family, and Li Ye felt it best to maintain some reserve.

Teacher Ke readily agreed, but Wen Leyu was displeased—though her face showed nothing, she slammed the water jug down loudly in Li Ye’s room with a “clang.”

Li Ye smiled silently; the girl knew he needed water after drinking, and bringing the jug was thoughtful enough—he wouldn’t quarrel with her over this.

After all, pouting was just a byproduct of two people moving from strangers to lovers.

Seeing Li Ye wouldn’t respond, Wen Leyu stomped off with puffed cheeks.

Then Teacher Ke called her over and chuckled: “How’s that? Didn’t I guess right?”

Wen Leyu pouted: “He’s just being fussy.”

Teacher Ke shook her head seriously: “Li Ye isn’t fussy at all. He’s staying just one night, showing both feeling and restraint. When he invited you to spend the New Year at his place, weren’t you the one who refused?”

Wen Leyu froze in surprise, then muttered: “He’s not a girl—why does he need to be so restrained?”

Teacher Ke sighed helplessly.

Her daughter was actually very smart; since returning to the capital, whether meeting elders or reconnecting with old friends, she’d performed excellently—even better than expected.

The hardships of the past few years hadn’t made Wen Leyu shy or fearful; instead, they had tempered her character, giving her sensitivity and calm judgment.

Compared to her peers who’d stayed in the capital, Wen Leyu was no less capable—in some ways, even superior.

But whenever Li Ye was involved, she became someone else entirely: emotion overwhelmed reason, she acted on impulse, utterly indifferent to others’ opinions or feelings.

“Enough. Didn’t you keep hoping he’d come? Now that he’s here, don’t pout—get along with him, take time to understand him. If there’s anything mismatched, promise me you’ll tell me, alright?”

“Alright, alright, you’re so controlling.”

Wen Leyu stomped off in her slippers, slams her bedroom door shut with a “bang”—as if she were angrier at Li Ye than before.

Teacher Ke shook her head, then fell into thought.

Her daughter had just talked back to her—when was the last time that happened?

Wasn’t it when she was barely ten, insisting on reading picture books to “learn history”?

No one knew their child better than their mother—Wen Leyu’s behavior these past days had all been deliberate.

After returning to the capital, Wen Leyu quickly realized there was a clear “social gap” between her and Li Ye.

Though elders and friends spoke of openness, inwardly they still valued “social parity,” and this attitude ran deep.

Even some old acquaintances had begun hinting at matchmaking their own children.

Once the girl grasped this, she immediately learned to ride a bicycle and tidied up Li Ye’s room.

She didn’t quite know how to speak plainly to her parents, so she expressed her determination in her own way—to everyone around her.

[Look closely, pay attention—I’ve chosen him. Don’t try to push any nonsense on me!]

“I’m not stopping you from choosing him—but don’t you need to look him over thoroughly, inside and out?”

Teacher Ke didn’t dislike Li Ye—in fact, as Wen Leyu had said, she genuinely liked him.

He was good-looking, courageous and intelligent, got along well with her husband and son, and most importantly, his shared experiences with her daughter had forged a deep emotional bond.

Compared to today’s common “marry first, love later” couples, Li Ye and Wen Leyu’s relationship was truly rare.

Wen Leyu had once changed completely—shutting herself off from everyone—until Li Ye changed her, slowly making her cheerful and lively, until now she dared to talk back to her mother.

What young girl doesn’t talk back to her mom?

So Teacher Ke saw all these changes, and rejoiced inwardly.

But if Li Ye turned out to be “flawed,” the blow to Wen Leyu would be devastating—hence why Teacher Ke urged her to spend time with him, to truly test their compatibility.

Yet today, just saying “if you’re mismatched” had made her precious daughter furious.

Teacher Ke was also frustrated—who doesn’t worry about their own daughter? Her urging Wen Leyu to “carefully understand” Li Ye wasn’t a casual remark.

It meant Li Ye had entered the “vetting phase”—if approved, the Wen family would treat him as a future son-in-law and invest resources in his cultivation.

“Qingsheng, Qingsheng.”

Teacher Ke wanted to talk to her husband, but Wen Qingsheng was already fast asleep.

Frustrated, Teacher Ke kicked him hard—always boasting about his drinking capacity, yet at the crucial moment, he passed out and let her down.

The next day, Li Ye acted as if still drunk, rising a little late—the three family members who worked had already left.

This greatly increased the Wen men’s respect—if two northern men, hardened by alcohol, couldn’t outdrink a boy, and Teacher Ke had to step in to settle it, they’d lose face entirely.

Wen Qingsheng told his daughter: “Let him sleep longer—he’s still young and inexperienced. Make him some soup later.”

Wen Leyu indeed prepared a large bowl of soup and set it on the table to cool.

Li Ye couldn’t sleep any longer; as soon as the three left, he got up to eat and drink.

Wen Leyu sat across from him, watching him finish breakfast, then said with a teasing tone: “So you can eat like this? No more being fussy? No more being distant?”

Li Ye understood her meaning and chuckled: “I’ve got no official status—how could I just live here permanently? Why don’t you just marry me? Then I’ll never leave tomorrow.”

Wen Leyu stared at Li Ye, utterly unprepared for such bold words.

This was 1982—the idea of “living off a woman” hadn’t even become popular yet!

“Who—who wants to marry you? Hahaha!”

Wen Leyu stammered, blushed, then burst into laughter.

Watching Wen Leyu laugh so freely, Li Ye’s heart stirred.

No matter how mature or composed a girl her age appeared, her youthful exuberance couldn’t be erased.

And this exuberance, Wen Leyu revealed only to him.

To everyone else, she was merely cold, detached, and composed.

After breakfast, Wen Leyu pulled out an itinerary and asked Li Ye to choose where to visit first.

Li Ye said: “Let’s go to the train station first to pick up our luggage and hand it to Jin Peng and Hao Jian, then eat, shop, and watch a movie.”

“Jin Peng came too?”

Wen Leyu had eaten at the Second Grain Store for over half a year, and Jin Peng had delivered vegetables personally—so of course she knew him.

“Yeah, he’s been here a few days, staying at a hotel east of the train station—not far, less than an hour.”

Li Ye had already arranged with Jin Peng and Hao Jian ahead of time: one of them would come to the capital with him, primarily to find housing.

In 1982, housing prices in the capital were beginning to rise, and more importantly, good apartments were disappearing—one sold, one gone. People with vision weren’t just Li Ye.

“Then let’s go! We can catch the morning movie, then eat fried liver at Shazikou, visit the Forbidden City and the Memorial Hall.”

Wen Leyu knew the itinerary by heart and quickly made arrangements—she even packed a water jug and umbrella, giving Li Ye the feeling of being treated like a gentleman.

“Here, try these on.”

Li Ye took out two pairs of “matching” athletic shoes from his bag.

Athletic shoes hadn’t yet become widespread in Shenzhou—they’d need a few more years. In the 80s, “travel shoes” were still foreign invaders battling fiercely with Huili.

Li Ye had bought them early, so they were still very fashionable.

Wen Leyu’s eyes narrowed, like a cat purring after being stroked.

She’d known Li Ye bought her shoes—today, she could finally try them on.

They fit perfectly—soft yet supportive—and the several pairs of socks he’d matched with them delighted her even more.

Southerners had long lived more meticulously than northerners; while New Dynasty athletic shoes might be found at Friendship Stores, the various socks from Hong Kong were overlooked as niche daily items.

But just as Wen Leyu happily slipped on the shoes, she noticed Li Ye staring at her shoe cabinet, examining a brand-new pair of high heels.

“Are these your shoes?”

“Yeah. My mom bought them for me.”

“Wear them today.”

“Not suitable.”

“True—these are hard to walk in. Jin Peng’s girlfriend tripped twice wearing them.”

Wen Leyu shot him a look, as if seeing through his hidden thoughts.

The girl took the heels, put them on, and walked back and forth twice in the living room for Li Ye.

Graceful, poised, waist swaying gently, heels clicking crisply—Li Ye was utterly enchanted.

My little Yu has untapped potential.

But sadly, Wen Leyu only walked two laps—she took the heels off before leaving.

“My mom says high heels are for specific occasions—in school, at work, formal settings, or before elders—you shouldn’t wear them. It makes you seem frivolous and unsteady.”

Li Ye stared blankly for several seconds, then gritted his teeth: “They’re all old-fashioned fools—don’t know how to appreciate beauty.”

(End of Chapter)