Lin Huiying knew Lin Huaiyu’s temperament—cautious and suspicious.
Especially in his position, high vigilance was a good thing.
“Huaiyu, I know what you’re worried about. Miss Song is Camp Commander Du’s wife’s niece. You know Camp Commander Du’s wife—she’s famously gentle and virtuous. I just had a meal with them, and from our conversation, I felt they were both sincere people.”
She paused, then added, “Of course, your concerns are also reasonable. I’ll ask someone to carefully inquire about the situation in Liaocheng, check her background and family background, to ensure there are no issues. Is that acceptable?”
Hearing Camp Commander Du’s name, the tension in Lin Huaiyu’s jawline eased slightly.
Du Yuanhong was famously straightforward in the military unit. His relatives shouldn’t pose any major problems.
“As long as Auntie is aware, that’s fine,” he replied in a low voice, saying nothing more.
Early the next morning, Song Zhiyi arrived at the Lin family on time.
First, she went to check Elder Chief Lin’s pulse and performed acupuncture.
After the acupuncture session, the old man felt somewhat more comfortable all over. Song Zhiyi estimated that it would take about a week of consistent treatment to see how well he responded.
After packing up her acupuncture kit and giving Sister Zhang a few dietary instructions, Song Zhiyi came downstairs.
As she entered the living room, she saw Lin Huaiyu sitting on the sofa, one hand supporting his forehead, his brows tightly furrowed, and his complexion looking somewhat pale.
Song Zhiyi paused, remembering what Elder Chief Lin had said about his grandson’s chronic headaches.
Since the old chief had entrusted her with helping his grandson, she decided to politely ask Lin Huaiyu about it. After talking with her uncle yesterday, she learned that although Lin Huaiyu was young, he was already at the deputy regiment commander level.
She walked over, her voice gentle: “Regiment Commander Lin, are you having a headache?”
Lin Huaiyu looked up at the sound. His handsome face, with obsidian-like phoenix eyes, was captivating.
But those eyes were tired, now filled with red veins.
He didn’t speak, just looked at her coldly.
Song Zhiyi didn’t mind his attitude and spoke calmly: “If you don’t mind, let me check your pulse. Perhaps I can identify something.”
Lin Huaiyu’s gaze lingered on her overly striking face for a few seconds.
He wanted to refuse.
Even the experts at the Military District General Hospital were helpless, relying only on painkillers for relief. What could a young girl like her, without even a medical license, possibly do to help?
But on second thought, letting her try might also be a way to gauge her true abilities.
“Hmm,” he grunted from his throat, signaling his agreement.
Song Zhiyi gestured for him to extend his wrist.
Her fingertips were cool, gently resting on his wrist.
Her touch was soft, her movements gentle.
Lin Huaiyu’s body stiffened instinctively.
Song Zhiyi lowered her eyes, focusing on diagnosing his pulse. Her long eyelashes cast a small shadow beneath her eyes.
“Is it that your headaches become particularly severe on rainy days or when you’re under stress?”
Lin Huaiyu: “Yes.”
“Do you often suffer from insomnia at night? Even if you fall asleep, do you wake up easily?”
He nodded.
Song Zhiyi had a general idea now.
This was likely due to an old injury from a past mission, causing blood stasis and obstructed qi and blood flow, which compressed the brain nerves.
“I can perform acupuncture to help alleviate the pain. If it goes well, you should see some improvement in your sleep tonight.”
She stood up, her tone steady, “Would you like to give it a try?”
Lin Huaiyu remained silent for a moment before finally doing as she said, sitting down on the Taishi Chair and allowing her to perform acupuncture.
Song Zhiyi instructed him to relax and lean back, while she stood beside him, lowering her head to prepare the needles.
It had to be admitted—his appearance was truly exceptional.
His features were delicate yet defined, with sharp angles that added an air of aggression and masculinity. His forehead was full, his brow bones high and prominent, and his eyes were perfectly shaped phoenix eyes, slightly upturned at the corners. Though they should have been a flirtatious shape, his cold demeanor lent them a stern, almost ruthless quality.
His nose was tall and straight like a mountain ridge, and his thin lips were pressed into a sharp, severe line.
With a face like this, he possessed both the firmness of a soldier and a wild, captivating charm that was hard to look away from.
Just as Song Zhiyi was silently admiring him, Lin Huaiyu tensed up again due to her proximity.
A familiar, faintly discernible fragrance drifted into his nostrils.
It was cool and refreshing, with a hint of herbal scent.
It was very similar to the scent of the woman from that night!
His eyes snapped open.
What met his gaze were Song Zhiyi’s clear, transparent eyes, as bright and pure as glass.
Her eyes were beautiful—softly shaped with brown irises, clean and lovely. Yet, because of her focused expression at that moment, they exuded a calm, steady, and intellectual beauty.
Today, she had styled her dark hair into a braid draped over her left shoulder, revealing her fair, porcelain-like neck.
As she leaned forward, the collar of her blouse opened slightly, exposing her delicate collarbone and a small glimpse of dazzlingly pale skin.
That unintentional glimpse of her figure inexplicably made his heart skip a beat, stirring his imagination.
Since that night, Lin Huaiyu had never been this close to any woman.
A rush of heat surged to the top of his head, and his ears instantly burned as if they could drip blood.
“When will this be done?” His Adam’s apple bobbed, his voice deeper and hoarser than usual.
Song Zhiyi didn’t even lift her eyelids:
“Regiment Commander Lin, your muscles are too tense. Relax a little, or the needles will hurt more and take longer.”
Then, she gently guided him:
“You can close your eyes and rest for a while.”
Lin Huaiyu closed his eyes as instructed.
Somehow, he found himself thinking back to that absurd night.
The woman on top of him, her face once blurred, gradually transformed into Song Zhiyi’s likeness.
The curvaceous Song Zhiyi, moving atop him, her soft brown eyes brimming with tears, sobbing apologies.
Seeing the beauty in tears, he couldn’t help but raise his hand to wipe them away.
Then, he saw Song Zhiyi’s expression shift back to its usual cool and composed demeanor as she questioned him:
“Regiment Commander Lin, what are you doing?”
He jolted awake immediately, instinctively lifting his head upward.
“Mmm…”
A soft, warm sensation brushed against his lips.
He had bumped into her.
To be precise, his lips had accurately met Song Zhiyi’s collarbone.
“I’m sorry!” Lin Huaiyu recoiled as if burned, a trace of embarrassment flashing across his face.
Song Zhiyi had just been withdrawing the needles. After the collision with her collarbone, she immediately straightened up, avoiding his gaze, and said softly, “It’s fine.”
But inwardly, she felt extremely awkward.
This Lin Huaiyu—with his upright and gentlemanly appearance—surely couldn’t have done it on purpose, right?
With a face like his, if he wanted a woman, he wouldn’t need to resort to being a scoundrel.
“It’s done now, Regiment Commander Lin. You can see the effects tonight.” After saying this, Song Zhiyi quickly left with a flushed face, not even glancing at him.
Song Zhiyi’s medical skills were truly remarkable. He had consulted several experienced traditional Chinese medicine practitioners for this headache, but the results were minimal. Yet, just after she had applied acupuncture, he was able to relax and fall asleep, and now the feeling of head pressure was gone.
Perhaps he had been overly wary of her.
After she left, Lin Huaiyu raised his hand, his fingertips unconsciously brushing lightly over his lips.
The soft, warm sensation from earlier seemed to linger there.
He recalled that the girl from that night had a light brown scar near her right collarbone, close to her shoulder.
He suddenly wondered if Song Zhiyi had one too.
**
The Song Household.
“Mom, let’s go report to the Steel Factory tomorrow.”
Song Yating counted the days and said cheerfully to Wen Shufen.
Wen Shufen paused her work.
It was indeed time. That girl Song Zhiyi should have settled in at the Xie family by now.
She had specifically instructed the Xie family to delay the customary return visit, waiting until Yating had reported for duty before allowing her to come back.
“Alright, we’ll go tomorrow. Make sure to prepare a nice set of clothes.”
This matter needed to be settled as soon as possible.