Ah Qiao

In the seventh year of my marriage to the affectionate second male lead, the female lead returned.

She had quarreled with the male lead and stood in the rain in front of my house:

“Brother Meng, I have nowhere else to go.”

My usually calm and composed husband, Meng He Shu, lost his temper:

“I’m going to find him and settle this!”

Even my seven-year-old son, Meng Bai, waved his little fist:

“Fairy Sister, don’t cry, I’ll marry you when I grow up.”

While they all scrambled to cheer her up, I was trapped on a fishing boat by the sudden downpour, having gone out to buy fresh river fish.

The boatman was shouting at the shore, trying to attract more passengers:

“Anyone else going to Qingzhou?”

I looked down at the basket, where I had just bought three hairtail fish, with only one or two taels of silver left.

I handed the boatman a tael of silver and asked:

“How far can I get with one tael of silver?”