Transmigrated into a Book: The Tough Guy Husband Wants a Divorce? No Way!

[Rugged Husband and Sweet Wife + Super-Sweet Military Marriage + Building Wealth + Face-Slapping Feel-Good Fiction]

Medicinal cuisine chef Zhou Wantang transmigrates into the 1970s as a spoiled, over-the-top woman who throws herself at an educated youth.

She opens her eyes to find her rugged husband, Fu Yanqing, giving her the cold shoulder and asking for a divorce, and a thatched hut with a leaky roof.

The original owner stole all the family’s savings to lavish them on a pretty boy, but she isn’t that stupid!!!

To hell with that educated youth!

She’s keeping this rugged hunk for herself!

She tears into the scumbag and gets back her money and ration coupons, becomes a barefoot doctor, and heads into the mountains with her rugged husband to hunt and gather medicinal herbs, quietly making a fortune.

Her awful relatives come at her one after another, but she handles every trick they try and leaves them speechless.

The villagers notice that Zhou Wantang, who used to make a scene over everything, has changed. She has her rugged husband wrapped around her little finger and becomes the first person in the village to build a new house.

The rugged man goes from a cold-faced grim reaper to a devoted wife-protector. Anyone who bullies her will have to answer to him first.

She thinks she’ll just settle down as the village’s rich lady, until a military vehicle pulls into the village and an officer salutes Fu Yanqing.

Only then does Zhou Wantang learn that her rugged husband is actually a big shot from the capital!

After she follows the army back to the city, the girls in the compound mock her as a country bumpkin.

But Fu, the regiment commander who is cold and ruthless in the military, turns around and pulls his wife into his arms, soothing her:

“Wifey, you’re the best. They’re just jealous of you.”

*

At night, Zhou Wantang pores over medicinal recipes beneath the lamplight.

Fu Yanqing presses up behind her, resting his chin in the hollow of her shoulder.

“Still not going to bed?”

“I haven’t finished writing this recipe.”

“Write it tomorrow.”

“Stop fooling around...”

He hooks a strand of her hair around his finger, his voice low and husky.

“You can have medicinal cuisine tomorrow. I can’t wait.”

“Fu Yanqing, put me down!”

“No. If I do, you’ll say I’m all talk again.”