120 Unequal distribution of secret savings, mother and daughter turn against each other on the spot!

"Move! Xuemin, what has gotten into you?"

Seeing Cheng Xuemin, who had just been about to stand up, collapse back into his chair in a state of sheer terror, Feng Jiayou’s eyes lit up with even greater mischief, and she felt a surge of delight in her heart.

Just how much of a secret stash could he have hidden away to be frightened into such a state by his own wife?

Anticipation! Feng Jiayou was truly looking forward to seeing how much of a windfall she would gain today. And really, how much audacity and energy did this man have? To actually maintain a secret slush fund—and judging by his inability to even move, the amount must be astronomical!

"Ah! It’s nothing, nothing at all. I think I just stood up too quickly and strained my back!"

"I can’t quite get up yet, I’m a bit weak!"

Cheng Xuemin waved his hands frantically, his mind racing. *What to do, what to do? Why have Elder Ba and his daughter come to our house? And his daughter is a senior editor at "Shanghai Literature and Art"? Does that mean she’s here looking for Kuang Yalan? That shouldn't be right!*

Cheng Xuemin’s secret identity was buried deep; even if "Shanghai Literature and Art" wanted to find him, the author, they wouldn't necessarily succeed.

*Master Bao!* That gatekeeper whom everyone jokingly called "Master Bao"—it turned out his name ended with "Lao" (Elder), not started with it—Elder Tang! Was it him who brought Elder Ba and his daughter to the house? Was the old man not senile after all? Had he remembered exactly how many manuscripts Cheng Xuemin had submitted and how many acceptance letters he had received, all while pretending to be forgetful?

*You old fox!* He had been playing the fool, acting as if he couldn't remember anything in front of Cheng Xuemin, all while waiting to trap him right here!

"Strained your back?"

"Xuemin, let me see. Are you alright? How could you be so careless?"

*Keep acting!* Just keep acting and being stubborn until the very end! Feng Jiayou was overjoyed. The more the man acted this way, the larger his stash must be. She turned, putting on a mask of concern, and reached out to "massage" his back.

"This... it's fine, it's fine. Wife, I can stand up on my own. I'm still capable!"

Seeing that he could no longer keep up the ruse, Cheng Xuemin stood up slowly. He glanced out the window at the women in the courtyard and asked with a sinking heart, "Wife, what did that senior editor, Sister Xiaolin from 'Shanghai Literature and Art,' say to you and Mom? How could you two be so happy?"

Cheng Xuemin still held a shred of hope that this senior editor would respect an author’s privacy. Since he hadn't revealed his true identity in his submission letters, surely she would show some consideration and not blurt out his secrets the moment she arrived?

"Sister Xiaolin didn't say much! She just went to our Yan University to find an interesting new author—that one named Kuang Yalan!"

"I only just found out that Kuang Yalan is that kind of person—so pathetic and miserable!" Feng Jiayou helped him up, speaking casually but watching her husband with a knowing, playful glint in her eyes.

*Keep acting!* Feng Jiayou was already certain that the Kuang Yalan who had discarded all dignity for the sake of manuscript fees was none other than her husband.

"Wife, you already know..."

"No, wife, why is Kuang Yalan 'that kind of person'? How is she being pathetic?"

Cheng Xuemin was in a panic. Had "Shanghai Literature and Art" told his wife and mother-in-law everything?

"She claimed she had eighty-year-old parents to support, five or six hungry children, and a pregnant wife to care for, and that the family was starving, waiting for the manuscript fees to save their lives!"

Feng Jiayou added oil to the fire, deliberately exaggerating. She even puffed out her own stomach—a perfect, natural prop.

"Wife, let me explain! I’ll tell you everything, I’ll confess it all!"

There was no escaping it. He was exposed! Seeing her hold her belly like that, Cheng Xuemin knew the game was up. Driven by a desperate instinct for survival, he turned and pulled the book *Marxism-Leninism* from the stack on his desk. He handed it to her and said, "Wife, it’s all in here. Really, it’s all in here. I didn't dare spend a single cent; I was just saving it up to present to you as a big surprise!"

It was true; he hadn't spent a dime of his secret stash. He hadn't really dared to, and more importantly, he had no material needs. Feng Jiayou already gave him plenty of pocket money, and in this era, there wasn't much worth spending large sums on.

***

"You... you just hid it right under my nose so openly?"

Feng Jiayou was dumbfounded. She had expected a deep, elaborate hiding spot that would require much effort to uncover. Who knew he would just leave it in plain sight, inside that copy of *Marxism-Leninism*?

"Cough, cough. It’s the 'darkest spot under the lamp'—the most dangerous place is the safest. Besides, wife, you’ve never once opened this book, have you?" Cheng Xuemin said sheepishly.

"Heh, so you're feeling proud of yourself now, are you?" Feng Jiayou was insulted. Not only had he ignored her, but he had the audacity to be smug about it!

"No, no, I wouldn't dare! It was meant for you all along. I left it out so obviously because I never intended to hide it from you forever, right?"

Cheng Xuemin quickly spun his narrative. *Yes!* If it was right under her nose, how could that be called hiding? It was a surprise waiting to be discovered!

"Go, go, go! Don't try to sweet-talk your way out of this, the nature of your offense is severe!" Feng Jiayou shooed him away. "Go to Dad's side—Elder Ba and Elder Tang are waiting for your confession! I’m going to calculate exactly how much you've hidden!"

Cheng Xuemin, desperate to survive, beat a hasty retreat.

"Mom, Dad... Elder Ba, hello! What brings you to our home?"

As he stepped out, he greeted his mother-in-law and Elder Ba. He pointedly ignored the old fox, Elder Tang, who was squinting at him. *You traitor!* Even if Elder Tang remembered him, it was Chen Shumin who had sold him out and brought everyone to the house. He would settle the score with Chen Shumin later.

"Haha! It really is you, Little Cheng! What a coincidence!" Elder Ba laughed.

"Hey, Little Cheng, do you still think this old man is forgetful?" Elder Tang chuckled. "I’ve brought your commissioning editor and Elder Ba himself to your home!"

Cheng Xuemin offered a bitter smile. If he didn't know the old man was a peer of his father-in-law, he would have snapped at him. Now, he could only play along.

"You really are something, kid. Tell me, has your hand gone numb from counting all those manuscript fee receipts yet?" Elder Tang teased.

"It’s all thanks to me, Little Cheng!" Elder Tang continued, gesturing to Elder Ba. "Elder Ba here came personally to deliver your receipts. Since it's Sunday and you weren't at the library, I kindly brought them to you! You wouldn't happen to be the 'traitor'的老六 (Lao Liu), would you?"

Cheng Xuemin rolled his eyes. "Yes, yes, your memory is impeccable, Elder."

"That's right!" Elder Tang clapped his hands, beaming at Elder Ba and Li Xiaolin. "Elder Ba, Xiaolin, I didn't bring you to the wrong person. I told you I knew this lad!"

"Hello, Xuemin. Are you the author 'Lao Liu' who wrote *The Traitor*? I am Li Xiaolin, your commissioning editor at *Harvest*." She looked at him with surprise. "And you are Teacher Gu’s son-in-law, Jiayou’s husband?"

"Sister Xiaolin, hello! Jiayou told me about you inside," Cheng Xuemin replied, feeling a sudden, sinking realization. *Wait, if she’s from 'Harvest' for 'The Traitor,' then why did Feng Jiayou mention Kuang Yalan from 'Shanghai Literature and Art'?*

*That clever woman!* She had used *Harvest* as leverage to force him to confess about Kuang Yalan as well. And judging by the reactions of Elder Tang and Li Xiaolin, they were only here for *The Traitor*. He had been tricked into confessing everything by a mere "bluff"!

Cheng Xuemin now desperately wanted to run back inside and start over.

Meanwhile, inside the room, Feng Jiayou was happily counting the stash. She gasped, "So much?"

She had only expected money from *The Traitor* and *College Women's Dormitory*. But she counted nine hundred yuan! That meant he had published at least two other manuscripts.

*This man is insane!* she thought. *How many things has he written in just over a month?*

"The Loess Plateau!" she suddenly remembered another pseudonym. *That must be his work too!*

She realized her husband was a writing machine. She sat back, stunned. *And to think he hasn't submitted a single thing to my mother's magazine, 'October'! He's dead!*

As she walked out to the main room, seeing her mother's stern expression, she knew her husband was in for a very, very long day.