Smoke from cooking had just faded in the Lu family courtyard.
Lu Zhan sat at the Eight-Immortals table in the main hall, holding that day’s PLA Daily. His brows were slightly furrowed as he read a report about the border situation.
He had just returned from a meeting at the regimental headquarters and hadn’t even changed out of his training uniform yet. His sleeves were rolled to his forearms, revealing firm muscle lines.
Da Bao and Er Bao were playing marbles in the yard, occasionally shouting as they fought over them.
Life like this was plain — yet it gave him an unprecedented sense of stability.
Creak—
The courtyard gate opened.
Lu Zhan’s ears twitched. He put down the newspaper.
Su Man slowly shuffled in holding a washbasin.
Her walking posture was even more awkward than when she left — she stopped after each step to catch her breath, her little face scrunched in pain, heart-wrenching to watch.
Lu Zhan immediately stood and strode over the threshold.
“What’s wrong?”
He took the basin from her hands and supported her arm.
“Leg hurts?”
Su Man leaned against him, putting most of her weight onto his body.
“It hurts…”
She looked up, her peach-blossom eyes watery, droplets from her bath still clinging to her lashes — pitiful beyond words.
“The bathhouse floor was slippery, full of soap foam. So crowded I had nowhere to stand. I almost fell again and reopened the old injury.”
As she spoke she lifted her pant leg, revealing the scabbed knee.
In truth it hadn’t reopened — just a little red.
But to Lu Zhan, it was a major matter.
His expression darkened immediately, regret flashing in his black eyes.
“My fault,” he said in a low voice.“I should’ve boiled water at home for you. You shouldn’t have gone to the crowded bathhouse.”
He set the basin down and bent, one arm under her knees, the other around her back.
“Ah!”
Su Man cried out as she was lifted.
Lu Zhan carried her horizontally into the house.
“Da Bao, Er Bao! Stop playing and go do homework!”
He barked sternly while passing the yard.
The boys immediately abandoned their marbles and rushed into the west room, shutting the door tightly.
Inside the east room, Lu Zhan set Su Man on the bed.
“Don’t move. Wait.”
He left and soon returned with a steaming enamel basin.
He tested the water — then unexpectedly knelt on one knee before her.
Su Man froze.
She had only intended to act spoiled so he’d feel sorry for her — maybe enjoy being served by the “chief.”
But she didn’t expect this.
In this era of strong male pride, men were the pillars of the household.
A regiment commander — a battlefield hero — washing his wife’s feet?
If word spread, people would laugh themselves to death.
“Zhan-ge… I’ll do it myself.”
She shyly tried to pull her foot back.
“Don’t move.”
His large hand gripped her ankle.
His palm was rough with gun calluses yet burning hot.
Compared to it, her foot was small and delicate like a fresh lotus sprout.
Under the dim light — black and white, rough and soft — the contrast was startling.
Lu Zhan lowered his head, focused as if cleaning his beloved rifle.
He placed her foot into warm water, first pouring water over it gently so she could adjust, then rubbing her sole and toes with surprising gentleness.
A tingling sensation shot up her spine.
“Mmm…”
The soft sound echoed in the quiet room like a spark in dry wood.
His hand paused.
He looked up — his once calm eyes now deep like a wolf’s, emotions surging.
“Does it hurt?” he asked hoarsely.
“No… just itchy.”
Her face reddened as she tried to withdraw her foot, but he held firmly.
“Good if it’s itchy.”
Instead, his fingers moved upward past her ankle.
Water dripped from his fingers onto the floor.
His hand slid along her calf, callused fingertips brushing her soft skin, sending shivers.
“Su Man.”
He suddenly called her full name.
“Do you know the whole compound is talking about what you did in the bathhouse today?”
Her heart skipped.
“Talking… about what?” she pretended ignorance.
“That I, Lu Zhan, married a seductress.”
His lips curved dangerously. His palm reached her knee, lightly rubbing the scab.
“They also say I have no restraint — left marks all over you.”
Her face exploded red.
“T-that’s nonsense—”
“If it’s nonsense, we can check.”
He stood abruptly, water splashing.
His tall body caged her between himself and the bed.
“Zhan-ge… we haven’t finished washing…”
She pressed her hands against his chest.
“Not washing anymore.”
He grabbed a towel, roughly dried her feet, then braced one hand beside her and the other behind her head, forcing her to look up.
Their breaths tangled.
His heat and masculine scent made her dizzy.
“Last night at the clinic… what did you call me?” he murmured, biting her earlobe.“You called me husband. Said you’d repay me with interest.”
Her body went weak.
How could his memory be so good?
“I was delirious… doesn’t count…”
“Doesn’t count?”
He chuckled low.
“In my place, spoken words are military orders.”
“If you owe a debt — you repay it.”
Before she could argue, he sealed her lips.
An aggressive kiss — filled with days of suppressed longing, worry for her injuries, and a desire to devour her.
His hand slipped under the oversized shirt, palm against jade-smooth skin.
The touch nearly made him lose control.
Even smoother than imagined.
Su Man was breathless, mind blank.
She only meant to tease him — now she trapped herself.
This wasn’t foot-washing.
She practically delivered herself.
“Zhan-ge… the light… still on…”
“Leave it.”
His voice darkened.
“If it’s off, how can I inspect the injuries?”
“How can I see how you seduced me?”
His hand reached her collar button.
Click.
The first button opened.
The room temperature soared.
Su Man closed her eyes and wrapped her arms around his neck.
If she couldn’t escape — she’d enjoy it.
After all, he was hers for life.
Just as passion ignited—
WHEEEEE—!!!
A sharp whistle pierced the night sky over the compound.
Emergency assembly.