I am a master in India

Chapter 370 Little Rich Woman

Kavia cried, but ultimately accepted the outcome.

What could she do? She was just a poor pregnant woman.

She did study abroad, but she lived in India.

After the child is born, how will people around them view them? Will the child be bullied at school?

Without the support of marriage, it is extremely difficult for single mothers to survive in society.

Ultimately, India is still a feudal and conservative country where women have always been in a weak position, almost like appendages of men.

Most importantly, Kavia believed in Ron's feelings for her, and that was undeniable.

Otherwise, she would rather go abroad than stay in India.

She and Ron had known each other for five or six years and had lived together for a long enough time.

They're not really husband and wife, though.

Ron respected her, loved her, and was considerate of her. Unlike other Indian men, he never committed domestic violence against her without cause.

In Indian society, where male dominance is absolute, she is not unaware of this kind of gentleness.

The only downside is that he's too fond of flirting.

Kavia wasn't blind; she probably knew about Ron's ambiguous relationships with those women in Mumbai.

However, Kavia did not consider them a threat, because those women were either actresses or minor figures such as secretaries and maids.

In terms of family background, education, and social status, she has a significant advantage.

She thought that when the time came, or when she got pregnant like today, Ron would settle down and return to his family.

As long as those women weren't brought home, Kavia didn't really care.

That's how Indian men are; it would be strange if they didn't have an affair.

Kavia's father was the same, and she was influenced by him from a young age.

However, the sudden appearance of the Chief Justice's daughter caught her completely off guard.

The other party's conditions were no worse than hers, no, they were far superior to Kavia's.

Needless to say, their family background and social status were so important that even their aunt had to rely on their connections to escape imprisonment.

I heard that Isha is only 22 years old, a full four or five years younger than her, very young.

Kavia even knew that she must be very beautiful.

She knew Ron too well; he wouldn't even glance at a woman who wasn't pretty.

She might even be a fair-skinned girl, which is Ron's favorite.

Look around at all the women who can maintain long-term, in-depth relationships with him, which one is dark-skinned?

No! He prefers women with fair skin.

How could a girl with such advantages in every way not be flustered when she was about to marry Ron in New Delhi?

But deep down, she still held onto a sliver of hope that this was all an act, and that her only purpose was to help her aunt get through this crisis.

Not to mention that Ron wanted to get married to her in Chennai right away, the kind where they get a marriage certificate.

Look, the first person to walk down the aisle with Ron was her, Kavia!
Ron's true love was still himself.

This gave Kavia great psychological comfort, especially with her aunt patiently comforting her.

Although Kavia was angry, she was no longer finding it so hard to accept.

Ron, in particular, has been extremely humble, treating Kavia like a queen these past two days.

They were incredibly diligent in serving tea and water.

What Indian man would go to such lengths? Even Kavia couldn't keep ignoring him.

He's a super-rich man with assets in the hundreds of billions. Someone of his status and position probably wouldn't have the patience to coax a woman.

After finally calming Kavia down, Ron immediately called his hometown in Uttar Pradesh and asked them to send someone over for the wedding.

When his second uncle, Adiya, received the call, he was completely dumbfounded.

What's going on? Wasn't the wedding supposed to be held in New Delhi a month and a half from now? How did it end up in Chennai, the southernmost part of the Indian subcontinent?
When Adiya heard that the bride was another woman, a local Brahmin, he was completely stunned.

He jumped up and down on the phone, asking Ron if he was planning to call off the engagement and push the Sue family into a fire pit.

They have already assembled in New Delhi, and even sent out invitations to the top leaders.

If something unexpected happens at this time, then things will get really messed up.

The Sur family will not only lose face throughout India, but will also offend a large number of politicians in New Delhi.

To say that they fell into a fire pit is no exaggeration.

Fortunately, Ron's simple words put Adiya at ease.

Wedding photos from New Delhi are common, and the bride in Chennai is also real.

He wants both of them!
"How did you do that, kid? You're not trying to trick me, are you?" Adiya was incredibly curious.

"Second Uncle, do you know the Laws of Manu?"

"Of course, my school had this course when I was in school."

“Then it’s your fault, Second Uncle.”

"what?"

"A Brahmin can have four wives, and you didn't tell me? How selfish!"

"You little rascal, have you ever seen anyone in the Suer family who has married four wives?"

"That's it. Anyway, the schedule in Chennai is very tight, and you must arrive within three days."

“I know,” Adiya said irritably. “You’ve done something terrible. I don’t know if your parents ever thought this day would come.”

"If you have the chance in the future, please pass on this message for me."

"roll!"

Ron hung up the phone nonchalantly. All done.

How can a wedding be complete without the parents' presence?

The schedule is too tight; he has another wedding to attend next month.

"Ron~" Kavia called to him from the doorway, her hand on her aching back.

"Here you go, hey, take it easy."

Ron took the bag from her hand, handed it to the servant beside him, and personally helped her into the car.

Today they were going back to the countryside, to Kavia's hometown, in the northern suburbs of Chennai. This was Ron's first visit, so it was quite formal.

Their wedding will also be held in Kavia's hometown, not in the bustling Chennai.

There's nothing we can do; Jayalalita has just been released from prison, and now many people are watching her.

This kind of thing should be kept low-key and not publicized.

The wedding in 95 that set a Guinness World Record is still vivid in my memory.

They dared not do it again; everyone was traumatized by it.

That's perfect; Ron won't have to worry about hearing any rumors in New Delhi.

To be honest, he hadn't told Isha and the others about having two wives, one in the south and one in the north.

What's the point of talking now? Let's get married first.

Otherwise, given Verma's personality, he might personally take Ron to court.

Ugh, just thinking about what will happen next gives me a headache.

He was determined not to reveal his true intentions before the two children were born.

In any case, Issa and Kavia almost never have the chance to be in the same frame, so there shouldn't be any problems in the short term.

The road north of Chennai is actually in pretty good condition, with shady trees lining both sides, blocking out almost all the hot sunlight.

Perhaps to prevent cars from accidentally hitting them at night, the trunks of the trees were painted white for easy identification.

Not long after leaving Chennai, a lush green landscape came into view.

This is almost unseen in North India, where the roadsides are lined with endless rice paddies.

Under the blazing sun, the shimmering rice leaves undulated like waves.

The weather in Tamil is indeed very hot, and Ron, a northerner, is not used to it.

He frequently picked up a bottle of purified water and drank it in the car.

Kavia laughed at him for being spoiled, saying that at the rate he drank, he could drink the entire Tamil family's share, leaving him with nothing for tomorrow.

There are still five months until the rainy season in August, and it hasn't rained at all during that time. Especially this year, there is a water shortage, and some areas in Chennai are only getting water every other day.

After a period of shade, the trees on both sides of the road disappeared, leaving only bare rice paddies.

Occasionally, there will be a bus stop sign by the roadside, without a sunshade, just a lone pole standing there.

However, the children waiting for the bus to school and the farmers wearing headscarves were all leisurely standing or sitting around the bus stop, not feeling hot at all.

After watching for a while, Ron roughly discovered a pattern.

South India is also a rice-based cultural sphere, while North India uses flatbreads made from wheat flour as its staple food.

This is very similar to the University of Tokyo, where rice is eaten in the south and noodles are eaten in the north, which gave Ron a sense of familiarity.

After driving north from Chennai for less than an hour, Kavia suddenly nudged Ron's arm.

"What?" He was jolted awake, recovering from his drowsiness.

“Look.” She pointed out the car window.

The rice paddies have disappeared, replaced by gleaming paddy fields.

"What is that?" Ron had never seen it before; it didn't look like a traditional crop.

"Yantian, my home."

"Ok?"

We'll be there soon.

Perhaps because her home was in sight, Kavia decided to have the driver stop and show Ron around her family's property.

That's right, Kavia's family were major salt merchants. The kind of traditional salt merchants who owned their own salt fields.

Although she was pregnant, she moved very quickly and was very familiar with the place.

This vast salt field is divided into grids by ridges, with a few workers walking along the ridges.

Salt pans are made by first putting seawater into the fields and letting it evaporate under the sun, then raking the crystallized salt together.

It's very primitive, completely lacking any modern industrial style.

At first glance, the pace of life seems slow, but in fact, the climate here is not only dry, but the sun is also extremely hot.

The water in the salt pans evaporates very quickly, crystallizing into coarse salt in just half a day.

Therefore, South India still uses this highly efficient salt-making method, and most importantly, it saves money.

“The biggest fear for salt fields is heavy rain. Once it rains, all the previous work will be wasted. Therefore, salt production can only be carried out in the few months before the rainy season, and no work is carried out in the second half of the year.”

"The weather is nice now, there's no need to worry about rain." Ron held her hand with one hand and wiped his sweat with the other.

"Yes, Chennai is short of water, but that's a good thing for us."

Kavia led him further in, and the vast expanse before them seemed to stretch on forever.

Soon, a tall wooden frame in the open space caught his attention.

"What is this doing?"

"The water in the well comes from the sea next door."

The wooden frame was used to draw water from the well. One person would set up the buckets below and then put them into the well.

Another person stands on the wooden frame, using their weight to maintain the balance of the lever. Once the bucket is placed in, they stomp on it, and the bucket full of water is lifted up.

The water pumped up can be poured directly into the waterway, and it will slowly flow into the salt pans.

After drying, barefoot workers used bamboo rakes to slowly gather the coarse salt together.

Further along, there is the first filtration process. After that, the salt will be transported to the workshop for further processing.

"This is too slow. Why not use a machine to pump the water?"

“It’s being done.” Kavia pointed to the distance.

The beach was blurry, but it seemed that new water pumping facilities had indeed been built.

"Previously it was all done manually, this is a new system implemented this year, and other places haven't had time to do it yet."

How big are your family's salt fields, exactly?

Even from this distance, Ron was having a hard time looking at it.

"About two or three thousand acres, I'm not entirely sure."

Ron gasped; it turned out this girl came from a very wealthy family.

(End of this chapter)