Lin Xiaoyue’s words, “There’s plenty of time ahead,” were like a seed buried in the soil, quietly taking root and sprouting in the seemingly calm days.
At first, it was just vague whispers—people saying Chen Shuang “doesn’t seem like she comes from an ordinary family,” that she “speaks and acts with a certain refinement.” These words were like a thin mist over the sea—hazy, hard to trace to their source, yet everywhere.
Chen Shuang wasn’t unaware. When she went to the service store to buy matches, the saleswoman handed them over with a probing tone: “Little Chen, I heard your family used to be well-off?”
While washing clothes by the well, a few army wives who had been chatting cheerfully quieted down and looked at her with curiosity when she approached.
Even Aunt Zhou, when she came by, worriedly reminded her, “Little Shuang, there’s been some gossip lately… don’t take it too much to heart.”
Chen Shuang only smiled and nodded. She knew exactly where these words came from—behind Lin Xiaoyue’s sweet smile hid a heart steeped in venom.
That afternoon, Chen Shuang was hanging freshly washed sheets in the courtyard when a deliberately loud voice came from the next yard—it was clearly meant for her to hear:
“…Isn’t it true! I heard her family, before liberation, was a famous big capitalist family in Shanghai! They were in business, filthy rich! Lived in a three-story Western-style house, drove a car, had more than a dozen servants at home!”
Another voice exclaimed in surprise, “Really? I thought her family were teachers?”
“Teachers?” Zhang Caifeng sneered, “That’s just to whitewash after liberation! Before that, her family exploited the working people—money pouring in from everywhere! Otherwise, how could she turn out like that? Soft skin, delicate—obviously never worked a day in her life!”
The wooden clip in Chen Shuang’s hand fell with a sharp “clack.” She bent to pick it up and continued straightening and clipping the sheets corner by corner. The sunlight filtered through the grape leaves, illuminating her calm profile, but her fingers gripping the clip trembled slightly.
Aunt Zhou rushed out of the kitchen, shaking with anger. “That Zhang Caifeng, spouting filth! I’ll go confront her!”
“Don’t,” Chen Shuang gently stopped her, voice soft, “It’s useless.”
“But this is slander!” Aunt Zhou’s eyes reddened in distress.
Chen Shuang said nothing. She remembered Lin Xiaoyue’s meaningful gaze before leaving, and the words “There’s plenty of time ahead.” So this was her so-called “time ahead”—using the cruelest rumors to slowly corrode Chen Shuang’s life in the military compound.
That evening, when He Yanzhi returned, Chen Shuang served the warmed meal as usual, though she was unusually quiet during dinner.
“Did something happen today?” He Yanzhi asked, putting down his chopsticks and looking at her.
Chen Shuang hesitated briefly, then recounted the gossip she had overheard during the day. She didn’t want him troubled over trivial matters, but if she didn’t tell him, the rumors would eventually reach his ears anyway.
After hearing her, He Yanzhi’s expression darkened. He said nothing, just held her hand—dry, warm, with the faint calluses left from years of handling a gun.
Chen Shuang whispered, “I don’t know where these words came from, but they’re very detailed.”
He Yanzhi’s gaze turned cold. “I know. I’ll handle it.”
“How will you handle it?” Chen Shuang shook her head. “Without proof, do you even know who spread it?”
“No proof needed,” He Yanzhi said calmly, but with undeniable authority. “Whoever spreads it will be held accountable.”
Chen Shuang felt a warmth in her heart but still worried: “But…”
“No buts,” He Yanzhi interrupted. “You are my wife. To slander you is to slander me. This cannot be tolerated.”
The next day, He Yanzhi went to the regiment headquarters as usual. After morning training, instead of returning to his office, he went to the propaganda department.
Officer Li was arranging performance schedules and stood quickly when he saw He Yanzhi enter. “Regimental Commander, you’re here?”
“Officer Li, has the program list for the cultural troupe’s慰问演出 been finalized?” He Yanzhi asked directly.
“Yes, yes, I was about to give you a copy.” Li hurriedly handed over the schedule.
He Yanzhi glanced through it, pausing briefly at “Solo: ‘Ode to Red Plum’ — Lin Xiaoyue,” then calmly said, “Replace this program.”
Li was stunned. “Replace it? Comrade Lin Xiaoyue is the troupe’s star—this is her signature piece…”
“Replace it,” He Yanzhi repeated firmly. “Or, have someone else perform from the troupe.”
Li opened his mouth, then nodded. “Understood. I’ll coordinate with the troupe.”
The news quickly reached Lin Xiaoyue. She was practicing expressions in front of a mirror in the dorm when she heard it. The mirror in her hand fell and shattered.
“He canceled my program… for that Chen Shuang?” Lin Xiaoyue’s voice trembled, her beautiful face contorted with anger.
A fellow actress cautiously suggested, “Xiaoyue, maybe… let it go. He’s married now…”
“Married?” Lin Xiaoyue sneered. “Once married, I can’t leave?”
She remembered the previous life—He Yanzhi married Chen Shuang at this very time. And later? He rose in ranks while Chen Shuang stayed by his side, the two loving each other to old age. Why? Why must this life be the same?
No—she wouldn’t accept it. Since she had a second chance at life, she would change fate.
A few days later, the troupe’s performance went on as planned, but Lin Xiaoyue’s solo was gone from the program. She still attended as lead dancer in a group number.
The auditorium was packed. He Yanzhi sat with Chen Shuang in the third row, next to Commissioner Zhao and Aunt Zhou’s family.
Lin Xiaoyue glanced at He Yanzhi repeatedly as she danced. Her movements were graceful and soft, earning rounds of applause. But He Yanzhi remained calm, occasionally whispering something to Chen Shuang with a gentle gaze.
After the performance, people began to leave. Lin Xiaoyue quickly changed and caught up to intercept He Yanzhi and Chen Shuang at the auditorium exit.
“Regimental Commander!” she called, her voice clear, a sweet smile on her face. “Were you satisfied with today’s performance?”
He Yanzhi paused, replying evenly, “Yes. Thank you.”
“Not at all, performing for the soldiers is our honor.” Lin Xiaoyue’s gaze shifted to Chen Shuang, her smile deepening. “Sister-in-law is here too? I heard you’re a university student, must know about art. How did you like today’s program?”
Her words were a trap—praise would seem fake, criticism would seem picky.
Chen Shuang smiled slightly. “The soldiers enjoyed it very much. It was a good program.”
Lin Xiaoyue was caught off guard by the neutral answer. Her expression stiffened, then she forced a smile. “Sister-in-law speaks well. By the way, I heard your family is from Shanghai? What a coincidence—I have relatives there too, maybe you know each other. What did your family do?”
Her question was abrupt, drawing attention from those still lingering nearby.
Chen Shuang looked at Lin Xiaoyue’s seemingly innocent but calculating eyes and said calmly, “My father is an engineer, my mother a teacher. Is there anything else you’d like to know, Comrade Lin?”
Lin Xiaoyue was momentarily speechless. She opened her mouth to retort, but He Yanzhi stepped in, shielding Chen Shuang as they walked away. “It’s late. We should go.”
Watching them walk side by side, Lin Xiaoyue’s smile vanished. She clenched her fists, nails digging into her palms.
“Chen Shuang, just wait,” she whispered, her eyes cold. “The real show is just beginning.”
Outside the auditorium, the evening breeze carried the salty scent of the sea. He Yanzhi held Chen Shuang’s hand and suddenly said, “Stay away from her from now on.”
Chen Shuang looked up at him.
“Lin Xiaoyue is not right in her heart,” He Yanzhi said evenly, with firm certainty. “Don’t worry. I’ll handle it.”
Chen Shuang nodded, her unease from the rumors gradually fading under his steady voice.
What she didn’t know was that a bigger storm was brewing in a corner she couldn’t see. Lin Xiaoyue had made up her mind—since she couldn’t approach He Yanzhi directly, she would strike from the side, making life unbearable for Chen Shuang in the compound.
At the troupe’s temporary dorm, Lin Xiaoyue stared at a new small mirror, a cold curve tugging at her lips.
“Chen Shuang, you won last life… this life, it’s not so certain.” She whispered to herself, eyes burning with mad jealousy and hatred. “I’ll make you pay the price for taking He Yanzhi.”