The warm house banquet was scheduled for a sunny Sunday.
Before dawn fully broke, Chen Shuang and Zhou Ma were already up. The courtyard was quiet, with only the faint sound of waves in the distance. After quietly washing up, the two began preparations for this important family feast.
Yesterday, He Yanzhi had given explicit instructions: aside from Commissioner Zhao and his spouse, a few close battalion commanders, platoon leaders, and their families, his good brother Yan Yunfei, who served as company commander in the divisional reconnaissance company, had taken leave to attend. With their own small family of three, there were over a dozen people in total—lively, but with plenty of work to do.
Chen Shuang and Zhou Ma carefully checked the menu and needed ingredients, tucked in various ration tickets and a stack of money He Yanzhi had given them, slung large baskets over their shoulders, and stepped into the dewy morning.
Since the camp service store had limited supplies, they first bought, using their ration tickets, pork belly, spare ribs, a plump old hen, a large bream, two bottles of “Seaside Daqu” liquor, and a few packs of “Daqianmen” cigarettes. Then, they walked over twenty minutes to the largest supply store in town.
Perhaps because it was the weekend, the store was bustling. With patience and keen eyes, they navigated the crowd and bought chestnuts for braised chicken, pickled vegetables and noodles, and some seasonal greens. Chen Shuang was most delighted by the seafood counter: a fresh batch had just arrived—shrimp were lively, clams and oysters very fresh. She decisively selected a few pounds of large prawns, a pile of assorted clams, and a healthy sea bass. Zhou Ma supplemented with some seasonings and a prime piece of pork belly.
By the time they returned fully laden, the sun was high. He Yanzhi was chopping wood in the courtyard, sweat soaking his olive-green military vest, outlining his strong muscles. Seeing them return, he immediately set down the axe, strode over, and wordlessly took the heaviest basket.
“Everything here?” he asked, eyes scanning the slightly twitching seafood in the basket.
“All here, the shrimp and fish are fresh,” Chen Shuang wiped sweat from her forehead with her sleeve, a satisfied smile on her face. “Today, everyone will eat well.”
He Yanzhi nodded without saying much, carried the baskets into the kitchen, and rolled up his sleeves. “What should I do?”
All morning, the small courtyard was filled with the aroma of cooking. Zhou Ma acted as head chef, managing the heat for several pots and pans. Chen Shuang handled seafood, side dishes, and delicate dishes requiring precision. He Yanzhi became the most capable assistant, handling the heavy tasks of chopping wood, fetching water, killing chickens, and gutting fish. He even mimicked Chen Shuang, squatting by the well and carefully scraping fish scales with a knife’s back, focused as if performing a critical task.
The braised pork sizzled in an iron pot, fat slowly rendering, sugar caramelized to a glossy red; spare ribs were fried until slightly charred, then returned to the pot with rich sauce; chestnuts and cut chicken simmered in a clay pot, mingling nutty and meaty aromas; house-cured bacon sliced thinly and stir-fried with green garlic shoots, salty and fragrant; prawns had their whiskers trimmed and backs split, ready for braising; sea bass scored, salted, and marinated; pickled vegetables finely shredded and simmered with pork slices and noodles, tangy and appetizing; assorted clams and oysters cleaned of sand, ready for a rich seafood medley; greens stir-fried to retain freshness; finally, a large bowl of dough mixed with white flour was left to rise in a warm spot, ready to steam into soft, fragrant buns.
Xiao Zhang arrived early to help, moving the square table and benches under the grape arbor, borrowing two benches and a small table from neighbors, barely enough for everyone to sit. Bowls, plates, and cups were washed, dried, and neatly arranged.
By noon, guests arrived one by one. Commissioner Zhao and his wife, Sister Sun, were first, bringing a basket of homegrown tomatoes. Next came several battalion commanders with their families; Sister Wang brought Niuniu along, who immediately stared longingly at the kitchen. The last to arrive was Yan Yunfei.
Even before entering, his cheerful voice rang out: “Old He! Congratulations on the new home! I’m here for a drink!” A tall, upright, wheat-skinned, sharp-eyed young officer strode in, carrying two bottles of white liquor and a large package of pastries wrapped in oil paper. He and He Yanzhi clearly shared a deep bond, immediately clapping each other on the shoulders with force.
“Where’s the wife? Let me pay my respects!” Yan Yunfei’s eyes swept the room, landing on Chen Shuang carrying a dish from the kitchen. His eyes briefly lit up, then he composed himself, stood at attention, and gave a formal salute. “Hello, Sister-in-law! I’m Yan Yunfei, He’s brother! I’ve often heard about you from He, and today I see it for myself—truly worthy of your reputation!”
Chen Shuang, embarrassed by his formal manner, set down the dish and returned a polite smile. “Commander Yan, you’re too courteous. I’ve often heard He speak of you. Please, have a seat.”
Yan Yunfei cheerfully greeted Zhou Ma before sitting, eyes constantly drifting to the table gradually filling with food, Adam’s apple moving. “Goodness! Old He, you’re living the high life! Just looking at this spread makes it hard to move!”
He Yanzhi’s lips curved slightly as he invited everyone to sit.
The dishes were brought out—a full table, steaming, colorful, and aromatic. Commissioner Zhao adjusted his glasses and laughed: “Yanzhi, Sister-in-law, this warm house banquet is quite a high standard! Looks like Sister-in-law has real skill!”
He Yanzhi poured drinks for everyone, offering brief words of thanks and common pleasantries about visiting often. Chen Shuang, using tea instead of wine, stood and toasted everyone sincerely and gracefully, neither overly enthusiastic nor distant.
“Don’t just sit there, dig in!” Yan Yunfei was the first to respond, chopsticks diving into the glistening braised pork, savoring a chunk of fatty and lean meat. He squinted, chewed, then slapped his thigh: “Amazing! Fat but not greasy, melts in the mouth, perfectly sweet and savory! Sister-in-law, it’d be a shame not to open a restaurant with your skills!”
With him leading, the atmosphere immediately warmed. Everyone reached for the food.
“The braised prawns are flavorful! Firm, springy, and fresh!”
“The fish is perfectly braised, no muddy taste, rich sauce!”
“Pickled vegetables with noodles—exactly that tangy flavor! Authentic! Perfect with rice!”
“Chestnut braised chicken is fragrant! Tender chicken, glutinous chestnuts, flavorful broth!”
“The seafood medley is so fresh it’ll raise your eyebrows! Generous ingredients!”
“The buns are soft and chewy, I could eat five with the dishes!”
“The stir-fried greens are crisp and refreshing, just right to balance the richness!”
Praise flowed continuously. Even Zhang Caifeng, initially feeling awkward, nodded in silent approval after tasting the bacon stir-fried with garlic shoots—it was indeed savory and well-cooked. Watching Chen Shuang respond warmly and gracefully, while He Yanzhi, though reserved, occasionally glanced at her with subtle softness, made her heart ache with envy, though she forced a smile.
The men drank and chatted about military training and border anecdotes, the atmosphere lively. Yan Yunfei’s outgoing personality and witty remarks sparked laughter across the table. The military wives couldn’t help but steal glances. He praised Chen Shuang and Zhou Ma while eating, keeping smiles on their faces.
He Yanzhi remained mostly quiet, but relaxed, drinking with comrades, occasionally glancing at Chen Shuang quietly listening and serving. When Yan Yunfei nudged him, saying, “Old He, you really hit the jackpot,” He Yanzhi clinked his cup with him before drinking.
After the meal, plates were mostly empty, buns gone. Everyone looked satisfied.
“Stop moving!” Sister Sun stood first, holding back Chen Shuang from cleaning. “Sister-in-law and Zhou Ma have worked from dawn till dusk. The rest of the work, we’ll take care of! Men clear the tables and move benches, women wash dishes!”
Other military wives echoed her. Sister Wang efficiently stacked plates, Sister Sun directed Commissioner Zhao and the battalion commanders to clear tables and move benches. Yan Yunfei eagerly fetched water at the well, moving as if in his own home. Zhang Caifeng, seeing this, reluctantly helped wipe tables.
He Yanzhi wanted to help but Commissioner Zhao stopped him. “Today you’re the host; just have tea and chat. Let the women handle it; let Sister-in-law catch her breath.”
Watching everyone energetically help, Chen Shuang’s heart warmed. This simple, earnest neighborly camaraderie was comforting. She and Zhou Ma weren’t idle either, guiding how things were put away, handing cloths for assistance.
With many hands, the courtyard was soon tidy, borrowed tables and chairs returned. Dishes washed and neatly stacked, the kitchen organized.
“All set, it’s getting late. We should head off so we don’t keep you from resting,” Commissioner Zhao cheerfully said, taking his leave; others bid farewell in turn.
Yan Yunfei left last, giving He Yanzhi a hearty pat on the shoulder, lowering his voice with a wink: “Brother, a moment in spring is worth a thousand gold—make the most of it!” Then he loudly addressed Chen Shuang: “Sister-in-law, thanks for today’s hospitality! Anything you need in the future, just say! If Old He angers you, I’ll give him a lesson!”
Once the guests departed, the courtyard fell completely silent. Sunset bathed the sky in orange-red hues, casting a warm glow over the small yard. Zhou Ma, visibly tired but joyful, said, “Today was perfect; everyone’s happy.”
He Yanzhi looked at Chen Shuang, her hair damp from sweat clinging to smooth skin, cheeks flushed from activity, tired but eyes clear and gentle.
“Tired?” he asked, voice lower and gentler than usual.
“A bit, but content,” Chen Shuang replied honestly; today had gone beautifully.
He Yanzhi paused, then entered the house. Moments later, he returned with a familiar olive-green canvas bag, handing it to Chen Shuang.
“Take this,” he said calmly but with unmistakable solemnity.
Chen Shuang accepted it; it was heavy. Opening it, she found neatly stacked cash, mostly ten-yuan “Great Unity” notes, with some fives, twos, and ones—a thick bundle worth nearly a thousand yuan at first glance. Beneath it was a red bankbook. She flipped it open, eyes landing on the last balance: 12,467.83 yuan.
Even prepared mentally, her heart skipped. In the late 1960s, this was an immense sum—He Yanzhi’s entire savings accumulated through years in the military, under gunfire and hardship.
“You’ll manage the household from now on. Spend as you see fit,” he said, gaze steady and honest. “Daily expenses, household needs, or if you want to save… all fine. I trust you.”
No grand promises, just the most tangible trust—more powerful than a thousand words.
Chen Shuang gripped the bag, meeting his gaze, nodding solemnly: “I will. Don’t worry, I’ll manage the home well.”
He Yanzhi seemed to relax slightly; his stern profile softened in the sunset. He glanced at the time and at Zhou Ma, already quietly heating water for bathing, cheeks faintly flushed.
Zhou Ma efficiently boiled two large pots of hot water, filled thermos flasks, double-checked the kitchen and courtyard, then cheerfully carried a small bundle to Chen Shuang. “Shuang, I’ll spend the night at Sister Wang’s, chatting about today’s fun. You’ve worked hard all day—rest early.” Without waiting for a reply, she left, carefully securing the courtyard gate.
Left alone, the courtyard was peaceful; a subtle, intimate tension lingered in the dimming light.
They washed up silently. Chen Shuang first, He Yanzhi waiting outside. When she emerged with partially dry hair, he went in. The sound of running water was unusually clear in the quiet night, as if striking the heartstrings.
Returning to the bedroom with the fresh scent of soap and warmth, Chen Shuang had changed into clean cotton sleepwear, sitting on the bed. The kerosene lamp glowed brighter than usual, casting a warm amber light over the small room. Sheets and blankets, freshly washed, smelled of sunlight and soap.
He Yanzhi closed the door and approached the bed. In a white tank top and military pants, his arms muscular and toned under the light. His gaze fell on Chen Shuang, deep and burning, filled with the raw admiration and desire a husband feels for his wife.
Chen Shuang’s heartbeat quickened; her fingers unconsciously gripped the hem of her sleepwear.
He sat by the bed, a short distance apart, yet their warmth was palpable.
“My wife,” he whispered, voice husky and low, with a hint of unnoticeable nervousness.
“Mm,” she replied softly, eyes lowered, long lashes casting a slight trembling shadow.
His hand reached out, calloused yet warm, lightly touching hers resting on her lap, pausing briefly, then slowly enclosing it in his large palm.
Chen Shuang didn’t pull away; her fingertips trembled slightly, then cautiously, tentatively, returned his grasp.
This subtle response seemed to ignite something. He Yanzhi’s breath deepened. Slowly leaning closer, he raised his other hand, hesitant yet tender, to touch her…