This was the gynecology area, with a screen for privacy, but the footsteps were heavy—someone had almost barged in.
Chen Mianmian saw half a shoulder—it was a man. She was so startled she forgot the pain.
She snapped, “What are you looking at? Get out!”
But when Dr. Gu turned and saw clearly, she said, “Engineer Zhao—it’s your wife, but you still can’t just rush in like that!”
It was Zhao Lingcheng, still standing there stiffly.
Only after being called out did he snap back to his senses and turn to leave the room.
Dr. Gu smiled knowingly. “Men… they’re all like this with the first child—overreacting. After you’ve had a few, he’ll get used to it. Some men, hmph—once the baby’s born, you can’t even find them. They hide away and sleep.”
She withdrew her hand and took off her gloves. “The placenta is fine. Let me check the fetal heartbeat.”
Chen Mianmian had thought it was some random lunatic—she didn’t expect it to be Zhao Lingcheng.
He must have rushed in because he heard her cry out in pain. But he had manners… he wouldn’t have looked, right?
After the heartbeat check, she still needed to ask where to buy almond cream.
She had heard that only big cities like Shanghai had it. After asking about the brand and price in detail, she finally left the clinic.
Zhao Lingcheng saw her come out and started walking ahead.
But he didn’t walk fast, and she soon caught up.
Handing him the medical record, she smiled. “Dr. Gu said our little girl has grown quite a bit.”
He flipped through the record but didn’t really read it.
All he could think about was that round belly—like a full moon—and its color.
If he were alone, he would have walked home, but with a pregnant woman, they had to wait for the bus.
At the stop, he suddenly asked, “Those injuries… were they all caused by Chen Jinhui?”
Chen Mianmian froze for a moment, then nearly jumped. “You saw me without my pants—and you still looked?”
She had thought he didn’t see and didn’t want to bring up that awkward moment.
But since he mentioned her belly, it meant he hadn’t just seen—he had stared.
She got angry. “Seriously, respect women’s privacy, okay?”
Zhao Lingcheng wasn’t insane—he hadn’t gone in to stare at a half-dressed woman.
He had heard Dr. Gu say the baby was kicking her and got curious, so he peeked in.
He knew Chen Jinhui had beaten her, but he hadn’t expected it to be that severe.
Bruises turn from deep blue to lighter shades, then yellow as they heal.
Her round belly had been covered in large, diffuse patches of yellow—that was the imprint of fists.
When she cried out again, he thought something had gone wrong and rushed in.
But he didn’t bother explaining. After boarding the bus, he said, “The police sent a notice—they’re planning to release Chen Jinhui.”
After a pause, he asked, “Can we keep him detained a few more days?”
Chen Jinhui had already been detained for half a month. It was only theft, and the amount wasn’t large, so the police wanted to release him.
But seeing how badly he had beaten his sister, Zhao Lingcheng wanted him held longer.
Still, he needed to consider his ex-wife’s opinion—after all, in her eyes, Chen Jinhui was like a 200-pound baby.
Unexpectedly, she agreed readily. “Sure!”
Zhao Lingcheng choked on his words. When had she changed?
Her precious younger brother would remain detained, and she just said yes?
The bus circled around the base, and the next stop was the administrative area.
Barbed wire surrounded the whole place, with guards stationed every few steps, on duty 24 hours a day.
His ex-wife suddenly leaned closer and asked with a smile, “You work in there?”
He just nodded without speaking.
There were five other people on the bus, all familiar faces, all watching the two of them.
When they reached the stop, he instinctively stepped off, but then paused. “Driver, there’s a pregnant woman.”
Life in this small town was actually quite pleasant—few people, but good facilities, and everyone was friendly.
Hearing there was a pregnant woman, the driver waited a long time.
But when they reached home, Zhao Lingcheng felt something was off.
A group of family members stood outside his house, chatting casually.
There seemed to be some unspoken understanding—when they saw him, they all covered their mouths and snickered.
When he went inside, they laughed even harder.
He suspected that news about Wei Cuiyun had spread, and these women had come to mock his ex-wife.
But that didn’t seem quite right either—they looked friendly with Chen Mianmian.
He had never seen anything like this before.
In fact, they had come because they heard Chen Mianmian wanted to trade dried meat for oat quotas, and they were bringing her their grain coupons.
Chen Mianmian pointed at Zhao Lingcheng’s back. “Another day—today’s not convenient.”
Trading coupons like that was considered capitalist behavior, so it had to be done discreetly.
The women all said, “Okay, okay—we’ll come back later.”
She added politely, “Since you’re here, come in and sit for a bit.”
But they scattered like birds, saying, “No, no—we still have to cook.”
Inside, Zhao Lingcheng was pouring water from a thermos.
In his memory, his ex-wife wasn’t good at socializing—but today she clearly was. That made things even stranger.
Then he remembered—even someone as hot-tempered as Wei Cuiyun had been charmed by her.
Maybe she wasn’t bad at socializing—she just didn’t bother with him.
Chen Mianmian had wanted to go on about how she had saved three mu of vegetable fields using just a pesticide bottle.
But Zhao Lingcheng had a clear purpose. As soon as she entered, he took out a contract and said, “I heard you’re a top student with both political and academic excellence.”
She had already told him before. “I did tell you.”
He didn’t really believe she could be fluent in both English and Russian—but he didn’t comment.
After all, languages were like math or science—you couldn’t fake them when it came time to use them.
Even if she got a job through her credentials, if she couldn’t actually perform, she’d just make a fool of herself and be sent home.
Back to the contract, he said, “I’ve revised some terms.”
She gestured for him to wait, went into the kitchen, and brought out a small bowl of processed oats.
Placing it in front of him, she smiled. “What do you think this is?”
He looked at the dark granules and guessed, “Buckwheat husks? Bran?”
He wasn’t interested in food, so he pointed back to the contract. “Our marriage will have no time limit.”
He had suddenly changed the terms—of course she asked, “Why?”
Handing her a pen, he said, “No reason. From now on, whoever files for divorce first will automatically lose custody.”
As a lawyer, she was good at reading people—but even she was momentarily confused.
If she could stay in the military base, given the times, it would actually be ideal.
The food and social environment here were better than outside.
But she was a career woman—one who had already built her foundation. She understood how the world worked and didn’t want to be confined to a small, remote town.
She wasn’t afraid of danger or hardship—but without understanding the logic behind something, she wouldn’t sign.
She pushed the contract back. “I need to know why.”
Zhao Lingcheng had a strange presence. He wasn’t the typical upright hero—he felt out of place in this era.
There was something about him… a faint sense of lifelessness.
Despite his handsome features, there was no warmth, no emotional flow.
Expressionless, he said, “You’ll need a C-section and a postpartum recovery period. You’ll be very weak and will need someone to take care of you. Your mother can’t. Your sister can’t. Xiao Chen, aside from me, no one can help you or take care of you. And you love the child, right? What I can give the child will be the best you can find.”
Though she had never given birth, she had seen many pregnant women and understood how important postpartum care was.
She really had no choice—she would have to rely on Zhao Lingcheng during recovery.
As for the future, who would file for divorce first was uncertain. In the original story, Zhao Lingcheng had another romantic storyline.
Thinking this through, she took the pen, signed, and tapped it lightly. “Pleasure working with you.”
He signed as well, his handwriting bold and flowing. Then he added, “For the child, let’s both remain faithful.”
So he thought she might get involved with Wei Cuiyun? He was overthinking.
Taking her copy of the contract, she asked, “By the way, what should Jiang Xia’s younger sister call you?”
That younger sister was Jiang Yao—the female lead. A good person, but with a tragic fate.
The original novel was about a powerful elite man manipulating and conquering women.
It was a tragic story centered on women’s suffering. The female lead didn’t love the male lead—her true feelings were for Zhao Lingcheng.
Life in the northwest was harsh—the novels made it sound even more bitter.
Zhao Lingcheng said, “You mean Jiang Yao? Same as Jiang Xia—she’s of my grandaunt’s generation. Why?”
Chen Mianmian waved the contract. “For the child, let’s remain faithful.”
He didn’t seem to know Jiang Yao had feelings for him. Calm and confident, he said, “Of course.”
With the contract signed, Chen Mianmian wanted to talk about his unfortunate uncle, Lin Yan.
But since he had unilaterally changed the terms, she no longer intended to be as straightforward as before.
She decided to keep him guessing for a while.
However, whether he was truly busy or just pretending, he didn’t take the bait.
He came and went quickly. After putting away the contract and checking the time, he said, “Since you’re fine, go to Quancheng tomorrow morning.”
Opening the door, he added, “If you feel unwell, find Sun Bingyu. If there’s any danger, Ma Ji will notify me immediately.”
He had to work overtime that night.
After the Americans upgraded their reconnaissance aircraft, their own weapons needed adjustments.
He would have everyone work through the night to finalize the designs and send them to the factory the next day.
Once the factory completed the modifications, they would carry out an air strike mission.
Commissar Qi actually wanted him to rest a few days first—everyone was exhausted.
But Zhao Lingcheng was rushing, not just to make time for the marriage.
Lin Yan would likely die within days—he also needed time to find him a proper burial place.
Though any patch of earth could bury a man, the barren northwest had no scenic resting places.
As a surrendered officer labeled a spy, Lin Yan’s remains would never return home.
He often said he had missed the chance to die on the battlefield—his only fate left was to be left exposed in the wilderness.
Still, Zhao Lingcheng wanted to find him a slightly better resting place.
Just as he was about to leave in a hurry, his ex-wife suddenly slammed the door shut.
He grew annoyed, thinking she was about to argue again.
In the past, her arguments were always about money—so he had already reached into his pocket.
Taking out the few bills he had, he said without looking at her, suppressing his irritation, “This is all I have.”
In the past, giving her money would make her stop talking.
But today, she didn’t take it. Instead, she said, “Xu Xiaomei’s brother, Xu Dagang—the deputy militia captain—he beats people the worst and embezzles the most. But I know where he hides everything. I can send him to prison.”
She added, “I also have a way to make your uncle eat well—and even become plump and healthy.”
The lifeless look in Zhao Lingcheng’s eyes turned to surprise.
Aside from the militia, Lin Yan’s biggest problem was hunger.
As a labeled enemy agent, his rations were always taken by others.
Even without deliberate abuse, long-term hunger had pushed him to the brink.
Yet she claimed she could feed him well—how?
After a moment, Zhao Lingcheng took out all his grain coupons and money.
She came from the countryside—she understood these things better.
And he knew her—she usually asked for money or coupons first.
But he had already given everything. She should explain now, right?
Instead, she opened the door. “Go to work. Don’t tire yourself out.”
He tried to stay calm. “If it’s not enough, I’ll borrow more. Just tell me—what’s your plan?”
With arms crossed, she mirrored his earlier attitude, cold and aloof. “I don’t feel like saying it right now.”
Then she added softly, “It can make your uncle plump and healthy.”
Buckwheat husks—people in the northwest used them as pillow stuffing.
He had smelled and seen it earlier—he was sure it was buckwheat husk.
Even burned to ash, it could barely stave off hunger—it couldn’t truly feed someone.
Sensing something was off, he asked again, “Then what is it really?”
She smiled and pushed him out the door. “See you tomorrow—bye.”
He had originally wanted to leave quickly—but now he turned back, picked up a pinch of the “husks,” and rubbed them between his fingers.
After blowing away the dust, he suddenly realized—it wasn’t buckwheat husk at all.
It was oats.
Oats—the grain closest to wheat in nutritional value.
He understood immediately.
If used as pillow stuffing, neither the militia nor other prisoners would notice.
If Lin Yan received a bag like this regularly, he could eat his fill.
Using clay and oats to disguise it as husks—this was the wisdom of working people, something only Chen Mianmian understood.
Then something else occurred to him.
She had said she knew where Xu Dagang hid his embezzled goods—that was just as important.
Xu Cigang was already vicious enough to kill—his brother wouldn’t be any better.
And Xu Dagang, as deputy militia captain, had harmed more than just Lin Yan.
Zhao Lingcheng didn’t doubt his ex-wife’s abilities.
She was like a human “tracker”—finding and hiding things was her specialty.
So what exactly had Xu Dagang hidden—and where?
Looking at his smugly smiling ex-wife, Zhao Lingcheng even took off his watch, ready to offer everything he had—just to get an answer.