My Wife Came From A Thousand Years Ago

Chapter 191: Let the Bullets Fly

Nearly a year of care had softened Jiang He’s hands. Though they were still not as smooth and delicate as those of modern girls, the calluses had faded significantly. Her touch on his stomach was both warm and ticklish.

“I didn’t ask you why you touched my feet.”

“You didn’t?”

“Nope…” Jiang He thought for a moment before pushing his head back toward the computer. “Too much going on.”

“…”

These days had been busy. While Qin Hao had leaped into action with his heroic rescue, Xu Qing and Wang Zijun had accompanied him to the hospital every day instead of leaving him there with just Qin Maocai. They kept him company during the day while Xu Qing worked hard at night to keep up with his video updates.

Xu Qing continued working on his video while Jiang He sat beside him, idly fiddling with her fingers, sometimes letting them stray upward.

"Second Boss, I’ve really grown up. For the first time since I can remember, I’ve dared to touch a man like this."

“I know. I’ve been using hand cream.”

“Did you buy that hand cream we looked up last time?”

“I did.”

“Really?” Xu Qing caught a hint of guilt in her tone and turned to look at her. “You didn’t skip it because it was too expensive, did you?”

“Of course not… I really bought it.”

“Alright.”

Once the video was nearly done, Xu Qing went to check Jiang He’s computer. He was surprised to see how much support she’d received—so many gifts, even more than he had expected, including over ten Grand Captain memberships.

Grand Captain was a kind of subscription similar to a monthly pass, with tiers: Captain at ¥199, Commander at ¥1,999, and Admiral at ¥19,999. Each lasted only a month. Although all ten were the lowest-tier Captains, each yielded ¥99.5 after deductions, meaning a stable income of over ¥1,000 a month. 𝘳å𝐍οβĘs̈@@novelbin@@

“An hour a day, thirty hours a month, earning over ¥1,000—about ¥30 per hour. Impressive.”

As expected, nostalgia sold well.

Xu Qing marveled. This little old lady really had potential. Though his guidance played a role, her skill at gaming was also a significant factor.

“Really? That much?” Jiang He, leaning in, was also surprised. “It feels kind of easy.”

“Well… it seems easy at first, but when you think about it, it’s actually pretty tough,” Xu Qing replied, scrolling through the comments. “The initial challenge was building popularity. Then, during your PvP battles, your skill shone through. Playing in ragged gear and reaching 1,500 points isn’t something just anyone can do.

“Plus, all that experience grinding accounts before this—understanding the skills and mechanics of most classes—made it easier for you to perform well in duels. Add to that the nostalgic wings you wore, which triggered memories for many, prompting them to impulsively subscribe as Grand Captains.”

“It really feels easy to me.” Jiang He was still basking in the joy of her ¥1,000 earnings. With the recent devaluation of in-game currency, she would have had to grind endlessly to make that much…

“Easy? Like how it’s easy for you,” she added with a triumphant smirk.

Xu Qing only needed to spend an hour or two a day editing videos to earn money, leaving the rest of his time free to do whatever he wanted.

“You can’t afford to think like that,” Xu Qing said, shaking his head. “Nothing’s truly easy.”

“Doesn’t saying that make your conscience hurt?”

“I’m glad you’ve learned to roast me, but no, it doesn’t hurt. You only see me lounging around as if I’m doing nothing, but editing videos takes up 90% of my time, just hunting for material.”

Xu Qing pointed to his computer. “I spend more time holding this than I do holding you. That’s where the real work goes. It’s actually exhausting.”

People only saw the glamorous side of successful content creators. Aside from the lucky few who went viral, most worked tirelessly behind the scenes. Stress, burnout, and hair loss were common. Xu Qing considered himself lucky since he genuinely enjoyed what he did, easing the pressure and mental fatigue.

“Now, you should think about why you earned this ¥1,000. Without all those hours spent grinding in the past, how could you have such a deep understanding of different classes to dominate like you do? And without me behind the scenes, could you maintain this momentum?

“If you don’t understand why you’re earning money, it might disappear before you realize it. Don’t think making money is this easy.”

Jiang He reflected on his words and realized she didn’t fully understand why she had made that money. Initially, she just wanted to practice to prepare for selling pickled vegetables and dried sweet potatoes or teaching cooking.

“I’ll make sure to hold onto this ¥1,000.”

“I’m teaching a Tang Dynasty heroine how to live independently. No need to look at me like that,” Xu Qing said, ruffling her hair and leaving it messy.

“Should I start calling you Teacher Xu?”

“Hmm… Since it’s so hot, how about letting the teacher enjoy your air conditioning?”

“No way.”

June’s heat had arrived in full force. Even with the fan running constantly in the living room, the windows couldn’t be opened. Living on the first floor meant the mosquitoes would carry them off at night. Jiang He’s room had air conditioning, but Xu Qing’s room only had mosquito coils and a heavy blanket to keep the bugs away.

Leaving Jiang He to ponder her gaming journey, Xu Qing stepped aside to take a phone call. Zhou Suzhi and her husband finally called, asking about Qin Hao’s hospitalization and whether Xu Qing had been hurt in the incident.

“It’s not like I caused trouble. You didn’t see it—Haozi suddenly shouted, ‘Freeze! Police!’ Scared the hell out of me. Such heroic spirit…”

“…No, there are protocols. Sometimes they need to act discreetly; other times, they have to announce their identity. It’s not about being reckless… It’s his duty. If he pretended not to see, he wouldn’t be Qin Hao, and he wouldn’t have chosen this job.”

“…Yeah, exactly. I’m fine. I took that guy down myself. Too bad it doesn’t count as righteous action, or I’d get a banner to hang in your living room for you to admire every day.”

After chatting for over ten minutes, Xu Qing hung up with a long sigh. He was relieved it was him and Qin Hao in the situation; otherwise, Qin Wenbin and Qin Maocai would be gloating. If it had been Qin Hao’s mom involved, she’d have turned him into a cautious couch potato by now.

What an unpredictable life.

Xu Qing glanced over at Jiang He, who was playing with Winter Melon’s ears. He wondered how this fierce heroine would raise a kid someday.

Later that night, Jiang He earned another ¥30, equivalent to half a chicken, as she proudly announced. Xu Qing calculated that with other tips, she had made around ¥80 that day.

“Not bad—around ¥2,400 a month,” she said, her eyes lighting up at the thought.

“That’s just enough to live in Jiang City. Sweeping the streets earns about the same. No need to act like you hit the jackpot.”

“But it’s just an hour of work!”

“And that hour includes my help, so it’s really both of ours. Split that, and it’s ¥1,200 each.”

Gathering his chainmail and tools, Xu Qing started preparing for his next project while Jiang He freshened up. As she returned, he casually grabbed her legs to massage them. Sitting on the subway all day must have been tiring.

“Ever heard of Let the Bullets Fly? It’s an interesting movie,” he said, dimming the lights and settling next to her with a bottle of cola and her sweet potato chips.

“You might not understand it—it’s full of witty lines. But hey, as long as you enjoy it.”

“I’m not an illiterate,” Jiang He protested. Modern fifth-grade homework was no longer a problem for her.

“I know what bullets are. They’re like the projectiles fired from guns—way more powerful than hidden weapons.”

“Smart for an illiterate from Kaiyuan.”

As the movie began, their playful banter faded. The glow of the computer screen illuminated their faces as Xu Qing continued massaging Jiang He’s legs. She shifted slightly, feeling a strange tension in the air. Xu Qing’s hand brushed against her ankle.

For a fleeting moment, their eyes met before they quickly looked away, both pretending nothing had happened. Jiang He bit her lip and shifted her leg again, feeling his grip subtly tighten. The atmosphere grew heavier, as if an unspoken understanding had formed.

On the screen, Zhang Mazi galloped on horseback, guns blazing, but neither of them was paying attention.