The night was thick like ink. Although the rain outside had stopped, damp cold air still forced its way indoors through the cracks.
Su Man didn’t sleep peacefully. In her dreams she felt as if a red-hot iron was pressed beside her.
The warmth was irresistible to someone afraid of the cold.
Half-asleep, she instinctively curled toward it like a kitten seeking heat.
Her left leg lifted, crossed the nonexistent “border line,” and landed heavily on the heat source.
Her hands wandered too, sliding along firm muscles while she murmured sleepily.
Lu Zhan instantly tensed.
In the darkness he opened his eyes — completely awake.
The woman’s thigh rested boldly across his waist and abdomen, separated only by thin fabric, making his scalp prickle.
Worse, her hand pressed against his chest; beneath her palm his heartbeat pounded like it would break free.
This woman slept like she was fighting a battle.
He inhaled — her faint soap scent mixed with a woman’s natural fragrance.
It was intoxicating, igniting a nameless fire inside him.
He was a normal man — and a vigorous soldier at that.
Being hugged like this at midnight by his newly-married, beautiful wife… if he felt nothing, he’d need a hospital visit.
“Move down.”
He gritted his teeth, voice hoarse, and grabbed her slender ankle to push her leg away.
Su Man woke from the sudden movement.
Under faint moonlight she met his dark gaze and instantly realized how intimate their position was — she was practically hanging on him like a boneless koala.
Another woman would have been mortified.
But Su Man had already died once and sworn to cling tightly to this “thigh” (rely on him). What was a little ambiguity?
Not only did she not retreat, she rubbed her ankle in his palm and said softly, deliberately teasing:
“Commander… I’m cold.”
His temples throbbed.
“Then cover yourself with the quilt.”
He firmly removed her leg and tucked it back inside.
“The quilt is thin. This place is like an ice cellar.”She curled into a ball, blinking innocently.“And you’re warm — like a furnace. What’s wrong with borrowing some heat?”
“I’m a person, not a furnace.”
He turned his back and wrapped himself in the blanket.
“And stop touching me.”
“I’m not interested in a washboard.”
The air froze.
Su Man paused, glanced at her figure — modest but definitely shapely.
Washboard?
Was he blind… or forcing himself to deny it?
A sly smile appeared. She understood men — especially abstinent-type men. Mouth says no, body honest.
She clearly felt his reaction earlier.
“Really?” she sighed faintly.“Since you’re not interested, I’m relieved.”
She scooted closer and pressed her back against his broad back.
“If you’re not interested, leaning for warmth is fine, right? You won’t do anything anyway.”
Lu Zhan stiffened again.
Her warmth pressed against him — a silent torture.
He closed his eyes, mind filled with the glimpse of her pale long legs.
Damn.
He hadn’t married a wife — he’d invited a tormenting fairy.
He recited military regulations three times before calming down.
That night, Su Man slept sweetly — even using his arm as a pillow.
Lu Zhan listened to the rain all night, only dozing near dawn.
Morning sunlight slipped through the curtain.
Su Man woke refreshed and found the space beside her empty, still warm.
The “Living King of Hell” must have gone to morning drills to vent his frustration.
In high spirits, she dressed. Today was her first official day living in the compound — she had to establish authority.
She opened the door.
In the yard, Da Bao and Er Bao squatted brushing their teeth.
Seeing her, Er Bao’s eyes lit up:“Mom! Morning!”
Da Bao turned away, ears red.
Yesterday’s braised pork still had power.
“Morning, little men.”
She ruffled their heads.“Hurry — after washing, Mom will cook breakfast.”
Er Bao sped up instantly.
In the kitchen she inspected the leftovers: a few buns, some meat broth, and eggs — luxurious for this era.
She sliced buns thick, beat eggs with salt and scallions, coated the slices, and fried them golden.
The leftover broth was boiled with egg ribbons and green onions.
Soon the aroma filled the courtyard.
“So fragrant!”
Er Bao stood drooling. Even Da Bao kept peeking.
The gate opened.
Lu Zhan returned sweaty from a five-kilometer run, eyes slightly bloodshot from lack of sleep.
He saw Su Man carrying a basin of golden fried buns, morning light outlining her figure — simple floral shirt, sleeves rolled, hair casually tied.
A scene full of everyday warmth.
His hardened battlefield heart skipped a beat.
“Back already?” she said naturally. “Perfect timing — eat while hot.”
He stood still, gaze deep. Having someone wait with hot food felt unfamiliar… luxurious.
“Wash your hands,” she scolded lightly. “Or should I feed you?”
He coughed and went to the basin.“No need.”
The family of four sat together.
Er Bao devoured food. Da Bao ate politely but quickly.Lu Zhan tasted — crisp outside, soft inside, warm broth filling his stomach.
He glanced at Su Man, who ate elegantly.
“I have training today. Won’t come back at noon,” he said.“Money and coupons are in the drawer. Buy what you need at the service store.”
After a pause:“People gossip here. Ignore it.”
His gaze sharpened.“If anyone bullies you… wait for me.”
Su Man felt warmth in her chest.
“Don’t worry, Zhan-ge.” She smiled like a fox. “I never suffer losses.”
He put on his cap and left.
After the jeep drove away, her smile faded.
She cleaned up and sent the boys to school.
The yard became quiet.
Sitting under the locust tree, she counted the money — over one hundred yuan. A huge sum, but only startup capital.
To survive in this era she needed her own career, not just a man.
Then — knocking.
Light, rhythmic, reserved… arrogant.
Su Man raised a brow and pocketed the envelope.
Trouble had arrived.