Chapter 24: A Self-Made First-Generation Wealth at 24

Lu Youyou sat at her desk, biting the end of her pen as she copied out passages from *Postpartum Care for Sows*. Her gaze, however, remained fixed on the man working busily nearby.

He was all broad shoulders, solid chest, firm waist, and powerful legs. He was truly handsome, and even more so when he was working. He hadn't even frowned when he saw her using corduroy fabric for curtains, as if he were unaware that such material cost seventy cents a foot, making a single window treatment worth over a dozen yuan.

Yet, given Gu Qingye’s meticulous nature, how could he not know?

Lu Youyou was a pampered young lady raised in the city; there was no reason she should have to live a pinched life after marrying him. Whatever he had, he was willing to give; if it wasn't enough, he would simply go out and earn more.

Still, Lu Youyou felt the need to explain: "I haven't used the money you gave me. I used a few of the ration coupons, but the rest is still in the drawer."

Gu Qingye turned back, his expression unreadable. "Open it and look."

Lu Youyou was stunned. Thinking he wanted to inspect the drawer, she got up to fetch it. Only upon opening it did she discover a bankbook tucked inside.

Seeing her standing there motionless, Gu Qingye walked over, picked up the bankbook, and placed it in her hands. "This is my allowance from all these years."

Except for the money sent home and the funds set aside for the orphans of his fallen comrades, everything else was there.

Lu Youyou felt a momentary daze, as if she hadn't quite processed what was happening.

Gu Qingye looked at her, his words hitting her ears with unexpected weight.

"From now on, you keep it."

There were many married men in the military, but the most harmonious households were those of Battalion Commander Jiang and Wang Youcai—and as it happened, the wives in both families held the financial power.

Effective strategies were worth adopting, and Gu Qingye had always been a quick learner.

Lu Youyou hesitated for a second before opening the bankbook, staring in astonishment at the figure: 6,600!

By the purchasing power of the time, Gu Qingye was a genuine millionaire, a self-made man at twenty-four. And just how many missions had he undertaken and how many honors had he earned to save up 6,600?

Lu Youyou stared at him blankly, taking several seconds to recover before shoving the bankbook back into his hands as if it were a hot potato.

"I can't take this!"

She had married him to save his life, not to steal his money—and besides, saving him was also saving herself.

However, Gu Qingye had already decided this was the necessary path to a harmonious family. The thin booklet returned to Lu Youyou’s hands.

"Keep it. Think of it as keeping it safe for me."

He was patient. It didn't matter if she couldn't accept it right away; he would win her over slowly. Seeing that she still didn't move, Gu Qingye simply put the bankbook back in the drawer, locked it, and gave her the key.

The cool metal soon warmed up, sticking to her palm with a thin layer of sweat. Lu Youyou subconsciously squeezed it.

Gu Qingye was busy hanging the remaining half of the curtain. His military-green short-sleeved shirt clung to his frame, and every movement revealed well-defined muscles, radiating an incomparable sense of security.

What was he thinking when he made that decision? Was he serious?

Her heart felt like a lake rippled by a light breeze, spreading circles of all sizes.

Lu Youyou spent a long time in the kitchen alone, staring blankly at the flames until Gu Qingye walked in. The light at the doorway was suddenly cut in half, and she jumped, turning her head sharply. But having stared at the fire for too long, her vision was filled with colorful darkness.

Unable to see anything, she stumbled and nearly fell, only to be caught in the next second by his sturdy arms.

"What's wrong? Are you feeling unwell?"

Lu Youyou shook her head. "I'm fine, my eyes were just dazzled for a moment."

Gu Qingye helped her sit down. "Don't bother cooking tonight. I'll go to the mess hall and bring something back; you should rest."

*What, cooking?*

Lu Youyou turned back, barely able to make out his silhouette. "I—"

She had originally intended to be honest, but the way she was squinting made her look guilty, so she simply closed her eyes.

"I don't know how to cook."

With her eyes closed and her chin lifted, looking completely nonchalant—that was the image Gu Qingye saw. He didn't find this outrageous at all; instead, he thought Lu Youyou’s defiant look was just like a cat he remembered from his childhood.

Lu Youyou: *It wasn't me, I didn't, don't talk nonsense!*

Suddenly, a soft chuckle came from the darkness. The little cat struggled to open a slit in her eyelids, but unfortunately, the man beside her still appeared to have four eyes, two heads, and a chin hanging down to his chest.

Lu Youyou shed internal tears of frustration. She couldn't see a thing—damn those flames for ruining her!

"I'll do the cooking from now on. If I'm not here, go to the mess hall."

His voice carried a smile. She couldn't tell if he was laughing at her, but wait—Gu Qingye said *he* would cook?!

Lu Youyou instinctively blurted out, "Is it even edible? If not, let's just eat at the mess hall. Don't worry, there's health soup every day; I guarantee it will keep you in top shape!"

The laughter became even clearer this time.

In the sunset, Lu Youyou's fair face seemed to glow; she really did look like that cat he used to feed. Lively, beautiful, and enjoying his care, yet it didn't diminish her haughty nature in the slightest. Those had been some of the few relaxing moments of his childhood.

"It's edible. Tell me what you want to eat, and I can look into it."

"Really?!"

Lu Youyou was overjoyed; she hadn't expected such a perk. As a master of lip-service, she knew plenty of recipes. As long as Gu Qingye could figure out what "a little" or "an appropriate amount" meant, he could follow the pattern.

"It's a deal, then!" Lu Youyou began to list them off like a treasure trove—"I want to eat sweet and sour pork ribs, bamboo shoot and meat soup, hot pot mutton, and if you could make roasted duck, that would be even better..."

Half an hour later, Gu Qingye returned from the mess hall and ran into Battalion Commander Ding Tiesheng. The second and third battalions had gone on a mission together, though Ding and his men had returned earlier.

"Battalion Commander Gu, you're back. I heard your fiancée is here; why aren't you eating at home?"

Ding Tiesheng had heard all about Lu Youyou the moment he returned. He hadn't taken the stories about delivering piglets seriously—the more people talked, the more rumors distorted the truth—but the idea that she spent money like water seemed more credible. Someone had always gossiped behind his own wife’s back, calling her a "petty bourgeois," and now that someone who spent even more had arrived, he wanted to see what those people would say. At least his wife cooked; this one was different—even with a wife, they still ate at the mess hall.

Gu Qingye’s gaze was like a torch, fixed steadily on Ding Tiesheng’s eyes.

"Battalion Commander Ding, a fiancée is not a mess cook. Three meals a day is not her job."

The corners of Ding Tiesheng’s mouth flattened instantly. He was blocked, unable to say a word, though he could only stiffen his neck and glare back, as if that would prevent him from appearing weak.

Gu Qingye’s expression remained cold and rigid. "Battalion Commander Ding, if there’s nothing else, I’ll be going."

His stride as he walked away was like a towering mountain, leaving the gaze behind him unable to overcome it.

Ding Tiesheng’s breathing was rapid and heavy; he felt stifled. When Gu Qingye was a company commander, he was a battalion commander; now that Gu was a battalion commander too, he felt his own position threatened. He had once been the youngest officer at the battalion level, but now, with the even younger Gu Qingye, he had become yesterday’s news. Gu Qingye was undoubtedly capable, but Ding felt his own abilities were not inferior. Why was it that the leadership favored him? Ding Tiesheng simply couldn't swallow this resentment.