Back to the ‘70s: My Life as the Trouble-Maker's Bride

When Annette returned to the room, Stuart was nowhere to be found. She had no idea where he had gone. Even after she washed up, he still hadn't returned—just as well, it saved them the awkwardness of lying down at the same time.

It got dark early, but there was nothing much to do.

The day had been so eventful that as Annette lay down, she began thinking about how to win over this block-of-wood man slowly, Stuart. Her thoughts then drifted to what the future might bring once they returned. Before long, she fell into a deep sleep.

She didn't know when Stuart came back or when he lay down. She only knew that by the second half of the night, the bed had grown warm, as if she were basking in sunlight.

When she woke up in the morning, the spot beside her was empty, the bedding neatly folded.

Annette blinked groggily for a while. Had Stuart never come back, or had he already gotten up and gone out?

She got up lazily to wash. The courtyard was unusually quiet—no adults, no children, just the kitten from yesterday basking in the sun under the window.

Even after she finished washing up, she heard no sounds from the house. Puzzled, she wondered where everyone had gone.

Just then, Aunt Spring entered with a slab of meat—five or six pounds of it. Seeing Annette, she beamed. "You're up! There are still sweet potatoes in the pot—have one for now. We're having dumplings for lunch!"

Annette looked around. "Where's Stuart?"

Aunt Spring chuckled. "He went up the mountain early this morning with Jimmy and his brothers. Come, come inside."

Annette pouted. That blockhead man had left her home alone? She followed Aunt Spring into the kitchen.

Aunt Spring was all smiles. "This meat was paid for by Hopewell. I went early and got the best cut of pork belly—look how thick the fat is!"

Annette was surprised. She'd thought Richard had sent her out to buy it early in the morning.

Aunt Spring set the meat aside, washed her hands, and handed Annette a sweet potato. "Hopewell said we're expecting guests for lunch," she added in a whisper. "I think... it's about the family division."

Annette was shocked. Wasn't that supposed to wait a few more days? Why bring it up now?

Aunt Spring looked a little envious, though there was nothing she could do about it. Hopewell had the ability and the confidence to come back and call for a family split.

After Annette finished her sweet potato, she heard movement outside.

Stuart returned with the three boys. One carried a rabbit, another a pheasant, and even the youngest held a string of a dozen sparrows.

The moment they entered the yard, they shouted, "Mom! Mom! Look what Second Uncle caught!"

Annette followed them out, excited by the scene. "You caught all of these?" she asked, eyes wide.

Stuart nodded. "Mm-hmm."

Annette clicked her tongue in amazement and gave him a thumbs-up, her eyes sparkling. "Wow, you're incredible! A sharpshooter! I'm so proud of you."

Stuart shifted uncomfortably under her overly affectionate praise. "It's just warm weather—the animals are out foraging."

Annette loved seeing him shy like that. Her smile grew even brighter. "No, no, it's all you. No wonder so many girls liked you."

She stopped short of adding, me included. Didn't want to scare him.

Stuart suddenly grew serious. "Don't joke like that. I'm going to clean these. We have guests coming—my great-uncle and the village secretary."

Annette perked up. "I'll help!"

She loved skinning small animals.

Stuart didn't stop her. He set to work on the rabbit and pheasant while Annette went inside to get her surgical scalpel.

With swift, clean motions, she skinned the rabbit and pheasant in one piece. Then she tackled the sparrows, twisting their heads, slicing lightly at the neck—each one neatly skinned and laid out.

Jimmy and his brothers stood slack-jawed. They'd seen plenty of people skin rabbits and pluck sparrows, but none as clean and efficient as Annette. Not even a drop of blood spilled—her work area was spotless.

Stuart, watching her deft movements, said nothing. This girl wasn't even pretending to hold back anymore.

The courtyard buzzed with activity.

Meanwhile, Grace was holed up in Nancy's room, frowning. Stuart had gone out early, and when he returned, he declared they were hosting guests for lunch—his great-uncle, the village secretary, and a few elders. He'd asked around to confirm everyone's availability.

There was no more room for negotiation. The family split was happening.

Nancy lay on the kang, listening to the commotion in the courtyard. She looked at her mother and muttered, "Second Brother's trying to split the family. That must be that vixen Annette's doing. She's got him wrapped around her little finger. Ever since she arrived, everything's gone wrong. Even Laura tried to kill herself."

Grace scolded her, "Don't say such things. Laura's suicide has nothing to do with Annette."

She wasn't being rational—she just didn't want Laura's mess tangled up with theirs. The sooner they distanced themselves, the better.

After all, if Laura's attempted suicide got too much attention, it could expose what Carl had done.

Grace sneered inwardly. Laura had once looked down on her third son—now look at her, a mess. After all that drama, good luck finding another husband.

Back in the courtyard, Aunt Spring prepared the meat while Stuart set up a stove to braise it.

Clara returned with her two children and let them play in the yard. For once, she voluntarily helped Aunt Spring in the kitchen.

Annette strolled around with her hands behind her back, watching Stuart work. "Did your older brother go to work again today?"

"No. He went to Oakridge Town to haul seeds. The irrigation trench is finished."

Annette nodded. So there was no farm work today, and yet Grace and Richard were silent, and Carl was nowhere to be found.

Richard was a strange case—always coughing like he was dying, but perfectly capable of lying in bed pretending to be dead.

After indulging her curiosity, Annette turned her attention back to Stuart's impressive cooking skills. "You're good at this. Where'd you learn?"

"I worked in the kitchen unit for over a year when I first joined the base."

Annette gave an approving nod, hands still behind her back. "Nice. From now on, whenever you're home, cooking's your job."

That little remark caught Stuart off guard. His hand, gripping the spatula, froze for a second before he answered with a quiet, "Mm."

Annette beamed. Teasing Stuart like this made life in such a hard time feel unexpectedly fun.

…

The scent of braised meat soon filled the courtyard, drifting into the neighboring homes. Even passersby outside the gate couldn't help sniffing the air.

It didn't take long for word to spread—Hopewell was about to divide the family.

Annette stood under the sun, squinting at the curious faces peeking through the gate. Suddenly, she realized she'd been wrong about Stuart.

An honest man? With a trick like braising meat to alert the whole village?

Yeah right. Stuart was no simple man.