In the face of money that was guaranteed to be hers, Writer Wen decisively changed careers and became Tailor Wen.
She dug out her sewing kit, found a measuring tape, and started taking Wang Xixi's measurements.
Beside her, Lin Nianhe and Wang Shumei stood shoulder to shoulder, watching, their minds whirring rapidly.
Wang Shumei's thoughts were relatively simple; she was contemplating asking her brother to bring some cotton and fabric after the autumn harvest, and have Wen Lan make cotton clothes for her family's Damin, Xiaoxiao, and her little nephew – and also for her sister-in-law, she'd need an outfit too.
Lin Nianhe's thoughts were more distant.
She remembered that during the apocalypse, an uncle had given her a steamed bun, despite it being the only one he had left.
His wife and daughter had died the previous night, and he had intended to join them, but from a distance, he saw Lin Nianhe.
