Chapter 66: A Tiger Fallen to the Plains—Cheap but High-Quality

Shi Ying accepted Cheng Simin’s jokes with a calm, unreadable expression.

The year he graduated from graduate school, his lease expired, and he ended up sharing an apartment with a pro-equality activist. The roommate often hosted small gatherings of transgender friends in their home.

The roommate loved smoking hookah and repeatedly lectured Shi Ying on everyone’s right to live their ideal life whenever they crossed paths in the living room. He talked about local queer communities, marginalized groups, Black people, women, and tried to persuade Shi Ying—as an Asian—to join their equality campaigns to create a better world.

But Shi Ying wasn’t moved. Unable to tolerate his roommate’s bad breath, he moved out within a month. After his abrupt departure, the roommate, feeling betrayed, sent multiple emails accusing him of being a heartless hater, a cold and selfish bastard.

Shi Ying didn’t even bother reading them; he simply blocked the guy.

He wasn’t hateful—he simply didn’t care about others’ lives or choices enough to judge them. However, when it came to someone he loved, he found himself displaying double standards. He believed he was capable of supporting the kind of life Cheng Simin had described.

Others might not understand, but Cheng Simin had every right to live the life she wanted, and he was willing to take action for that.

“If this is the life you want, it’s not impossible.”

In fact, over the past few days, he’d been closely following the price trends of the apartment Cheng Simin sold earlier. From his perspective, housing prices in first-tier cities hadn’t bottomed out yet. Next year might see stagnation, with slight increases as policies loosened. When the time was ripe, he planned to buy a property at a low point and gift it to Cheng Simin.

For now, though, it was still a buyer’s market. The best strategy was to maintain cash flow and wait patiently.

Buying a house meant investing in the future. When everyone started having expectations for the future, sales volumes would naturally rise without anyone pushing.

As for having children, reproduction was never a necessary goal for his life. Since he wouldn’t bear the risks of childbirth, he believed it should ultimately be Cheng Simin’s decision.

“Whether or not to have kids, how many—I don’t care. It’s entirely up to you. But the dependent lifestyle you mentioned has already been trodden by my mother. Your happiness for the next few decades would depend entirely on me, which could leave you in a passive position.”

Using their families of origin as examples, men’s qualities seemed prone to decay—whether failing miserably like Cheng Wei or succeeding excessively like Shi Kaiji, both could spawn rotten spores.

“Of course, I’m not preparing to rot myself. Given our family precedents, I must constantly correct myself. But just in case, I think you should have a backup plan.”

A prenuptial agreement? Or perhaps her own independent financial support system? He hadn’t figured that part out yet.

The more seriously Shi Ying spoke, the more it sounded like AI-generated dialectics. Cheng Simin wanted to listen quietly to his thoughts, but his brain seemed programmed to continue endlessly. She suspected that if she didn’t interrupt, he’d talk until dawn and even choose their future gravesite.

She physically closed his mouth with her hand.

“Master! Stop chanting! We haven’t even started anything, and you’re already talking about having kids. I was just joking—I haven’t thought about it at all!”

“You talk big, but our savings are probably similar, right? Even those domineering CEOs need capital. They casually throw around hundreds of millions, while we can’t even scrape together a fraction of that. At most, we’re humble couples surviving together?”

Cheng Simin’s words were erratic, and anyone with fragile self-esteem might find them harsh. But Shi Ying wasn’t offended—he actually found them amusing. Smirking, he said, “Cheng Simin, I didn’t realize you pitied the poor so much. Even though I’m such a failure in your eyes, you still stay with me. What do you see in me?”

“I thought I was at least a promising stock in your eyes.” Though not a billionaire, his first pot of gold was on its way—she just didn’t know it yet.

“No idea about promising stocks—I haven’t evaluated them. For now, I’m with you because you’re handsome, nearby, and tall. If the sky falls, it’ll hit you first.”

Ultimately, she liked that he remained as striking and beautiful as when he was younger, consistently maintaining a high standard of appearance. Previously out of reach on luxury shelves, he was now available in the bargain section, ready for selection. How could she resist such a deal?

“Alright, alright, I get it. I’m a tiger fallen to the plains—cheap but high-quality. I’m your safety net, your all-purpose backup option.” Shi Ying snorted and pulled his arm out of her embrace.

Seeing his slightly hurt expression, Cheng Simin immediately leaned into him, pressing her body fully against his.

“No, no, no! You’re a phoenix, and I’m a sparrow. You’re a tree, and I’m an ant. I still rely on you. My first income this year was the design fee from the winery. There’s no such thing as a backup option—you’re my only… hmm, partner in crime.”

With one hand on Cheng Simin’s waist and the other stroking her hair, Shi Ying chuckled. “Cheng Simin, how about reading some humanities books occasionally? It’s called ‘partners in crime,’ not ‘incestuous partners.’”

“What’s ‘partners in crime’? Am I the wolf, and you’re the狈? Are we embarking on a great, century-defying romance that breaks reproductive barriers?”

Cheng Simin giggled, feeling relaxed. Despite her sharp tongue, she herself had avoided facing the bleak reality of Ji Piao’s failure and kept her distance from Chen Xiaofen and Xiao Bao.

Perhaps Chen Xiaofen didn’t understand Cheng Jiabao’s struggles, but the loneliness and desolation Cheng Jiabao endured resonated deeply with Cheng Simin’s childhood memories across more than a decade.

Though not blood-related sisters, Xiao Bao felt like Cheng Simin from another timeline, making it impossible for her to completely let go. Reading Jiabao’s diary entries repeatedly brought her pain each time.

Hadn’t she been the same as a child?

Adults ignored her, peers rejected her—aside from Shi Ying, no one paid attention. She disappeared into crowds, invisible despite her loud voice and forced smiles. When a group finally befriended her, showering her with care, it turned out to be a prank.

At least back then, she had Shi Ying—even through bickering and quarrels, their moments of joy alleviated much of her loneliness.

But thinking of Xiao Bao having no friends, living under someone else’s roof, frequently beaten, and relying solely on her—the useless older sister—for conversation made her want to cry.

If she hadn’t quit her job and were now a successful white-collar worker in a big city, owning a car, a house, and savings, she’d confidently march into Yingying Cold Noodles, becoming the protagonist of a satisfying revenge story.

Literary protagonists effortlessly achieve success, wielding golden opportunities and halos. But ordinary people like her remain invisible background figures in society. The lifelong challenge isn’t conquering四方 but learning to coexist with failure.

Did Cheng Simin, healing in her public rental apartment, have the right to appear before Chen Xiaofen as a deity descending?

Everyone loves climbing high branches, but she wasn’t sure what kind of response awaited her—resentment, hatred, disdain, hostility? Any negative emotion from Chen Xiaofen would crush her.

She wanted to give the hamster to Xiao Bao as a gift and chat with her, but she didn’t know the best way. Cutting ties had taken immense effort; reconnecting proved equally difficult.

After lying on top of Shi Ying for a while, Cheng Simin rolled off and lay beside him, their hands intertwined. Just holding hands brought a soothing sense of comfort, reminiscent of carefree childhood days.

A simple “you’re my best friend” could dispel all darkness. Though she couldn’t offer much more at this stage, she wanted to be Xiao Bao’s good friend.

Feeling drowsy, Cheng Simin decided that tomorrow she’d visit the elementary school again. If she happened to see Cheng Jiabao after school, she could ask other kids to pass the hamster to her.

Settling on this plan, Cheng Simin yawned and suddenly remembered the gifts Shi Ying had sent to her place recently.

Rolling onto her side, she draped a leg over his abdomen and magnanimously said, “Shi Ying, if we ever fight again, don’t go crazy buying me stuff. We’re not strangers—we’ve known each other for years. Talking things out is better than all those flashy gestures. They’re pointless.”

“You might as well swallow your pride and call me.”

All those boxes of food—she couldn’t possibly eat them all, and they’d end up wasted. Living frugally was essential.

Holding her hand, palm to palm, arm to arm, Shi Ying felt warm and sleepy. Mumbling, he reached for his phone on the bedside table.

“What? You’ve already received the apology gifts I bought? I ordered them via overseas direct shipping—they’re still clearing customs.”

“Huh? Do chickens need customs clearance? And the kiwis and pomelos—are they not domestic? Did you get scammed?”

Cheng Simin worried that the naive landlord’s son had been tricked.

Shi Ying’s elegant appearance and expensive clothes always gave the impression of a money tree, tempting everyone to shake it. Next time, she’d lend him some ripped clothes to make him look smarter and down-to-earth.

Confused by her questions, Shi Ying handed her the phone. “What chicken? I didn’t buy any chicken!” He had no idea where to find freshly slaughtered chickens in Banshan.

Last time, when he bought fruit for Cheng Simin, she insisted on repaying him. Since then, he’d shifted his gifting strategy to focus on practicality.

Looking at the logistics info, Cheng Simin confirmed the items were indeed clearing customs and wouldn’t arrive for another three days.

“What did you buy for 6,000 yuan? Is it one of those eternal flower ornaments? Can you return it? That’s pure relationship tax—a waste of money.”

Shi Ying proudly opened the order details. “No way—it’s something useful. Trust me, it’s practical and will last decades. Not a waste at all.”

Cheng Simin pouted,心疼 money but feeling sweet inside. Was it matching couple rings? Even if she didn’t wear them, they weren’t essential.

Upon closer inspection, her face muscles twitched involuntarily, creating a dimple on her cheek. Her silence was deafening.

Finally, maintaining her dignity, she asked in a low voice, “Shi Ying, did you buy me a red light hair growth device?”

The night lamp was off, and Shi Ying, oblivious to her simmering anger, was still pleased with himself.

“Yes! Last time we fought, I noticed your hair was a bit thin on top. Hair loss is irreversible, so prevention is key. This way, when you’re old, you’ll still be a little old lady with lush hair.”

“While others go bald, you’ll remain a hair plutocrat.”

“How’s that? Practical and thoughtful, Cheng Simin—you can start praising me now.”

Half a minute later, the room erupted in sharp screams. Reconciled only hours ago, Cheng Simin’s anger exploded like fireworks once again.

First, she screamed, “That’s it—we’re done! Screw you, that’s too insulting! We’re over!”

After much apologizing and coaxing from Shi Ying, she calmed down but then turned on all the lights and obsessively checked her reflection in the mirror, scrutinizing her scalp.

An hour later, after Shi Ying promised never to inspect her scalp again using his height advantage, they finally returned to bed.

Only then did they both wonder: if the food deliveries weren’t from Shi Ying, then who could they be from?