Early on a weekend morning, the military district cafeteria was closed.
Su Wanqing got up early to go to the morning market to pick out fresh vegetables, carrying a bulging bag of produce back to the residential compound.
Just as she turned the corner, a tall figure blocked her path.
The navy-blue work pants accentuated his straight posture, and his facial features bore some resemblance to Su Hua’s, but with an added layer of steady authority.
Her eldest brother, Su Nian.
Su Wanqing hesitated for a moment before approaching him. “Brother, did you need to see me?”
Su Nian turned to look at her, his gaze lacking any sibling warmth, instead carrying a scrutinizing coldness. “Wanqing, even if you’re upset with Weiwei, you need to know your limits. Don’t be too aggressive.”
He spoke bluntly, leaving no room for argument. “Weiwei already apologized to you yesterday. That misunderstanding should end there. There’s no need for a public apology on the flag-raising day next Monday.”
Su Wanqing raised an eyebrow.
The lofty tone made it seem as if she had committed an unforgivable crime.
Annoyed, she feigned ignorance: “A private apology? I don’t remember that. But Brother, did you come all the way here early just to plead for Su Weiwei?”
“What do you mean by pleading?” Su Nian frowned, his tone growing sterner. “Weiwei is a girl. Her face is thin-skinned. A public apology would harm her reputation in the military district. You’re her sister; you should be more accommodating, not cling to such a trivial matter.”
Su Wanqing snorted, her almond-shaped eyes cooling, sharp and biting. “Brother, you see her thin-skinned, but do you not see that I was almost accused of ‘poisoning’?”
Her gaze was clear but sharp. “A public apology is sanctioned by the Military Affairs Office, and they agreed to it themselves. Why should it be dismissed just because you say so?”
Su Nian’s expression darkened even further, clearly not expecting the once-dull Su Wanqing to be so sharp-tongued.
“I don’t care what you think. The apology is off.” He stepped forward, the pressure in his presence intensifying.
“You’re going to see Commander Lu and explain that the misunderstanding is cleared up, so Weiwei doesn’t need to apologize.”
“I’m not going.” Su Wanqing refused without hesitation.
She didn’t give Su Nian a chance to argue further, turning sharply to leave. “On Monday, the apology must happen—every person, every word.”
Su Nian stood in place, anger darkening his eyes at being rejected, his voice cold as ice: “Su Wanqing, don’t regret this! If you insist on letting Weiwei apologize, don’t expect the Su family to cover for you in the future!”
Su Wanqing’s face held only ridicule.
As if anyone cared…
By noon, the sun had climbed higher.
Su Wanqing carried an enamel lunchbox, making her way to the office building as if on familiar grounds.
She didn’t need to go to the cafeteria; she had agreed with Lu Yan early to deliver lunch to him.
Before she reached the building entrance, from a distance, she saw Lu Yan’s tall figure standing under the camphor tree.
His military uniform was crisp and immaculate, fitting perfectly along his broad shoulders and tapering down to his lean, precise waist.
Su Wanqing stepped lightly, approaching him quietly, and noticed his eyes were cast downward—his features sharp and cold, the corners of his eyes slightly narrowed, adding a hint of chill. His lips pressed together, emotionless, yet mesmerizing.
Hearing her movement, Lu Yan raised his eyes, his dark gaze locking on her.
Su Wanqing quickened her pace, standing before him, tilting her head slightly with a hint of flush on her cheeks, looking particularly charming. “I’m not late, am I? Have you been waiting long?”
Lu Yan reached out to take the lunchbox from her hands.
Su Wanqing gently pressed the lid, smiling, and stepped back. “Let’s sit over there on that stone bench; it’s too noisy inside the office building.”
She naturally held his hand as she spoke. “I made kelp and pork rib soup, and steamed egg. I used less salt; you can see if it suits your taste.”
Lu Yan paused slightly, his gaze following her slender wrist up to her lively face.
Her eyes were bright, the corners slightly curved, still so vivid.
The camphor tree’s leaves were dense, sunlight filtering through to create a delicate patchwork of light at their feet.
Walking beside him, Su Wanqing chattered on. “I specially picked fresh kelp at the dock this morning, soaked it for a long time to get the sand out. The soup simmered for nearly an hour; the ribs shouldn’t be tough.”
Reaching the stone bench, she placed the lunchbox down and took a clean handkerchief from her bag to wipe the seat before beckoning him: “Come sit. I cleaned it, it’s not dirty.”
Lu Yan complied, his gaze fixed on her busy hands.
Her fingers were slender, nails neatly trimmed, and her meticulous wiping left no corner untouched.
Once she was done, she unfastened the lunchbox straps with precise movements.
As she lifted the lid, the aroma of the pork rib soup and steamed egg immediately wafted out, dispelling the midday heat.
Su Wanqing first served him a bowl of soup, then a spoonful of steamed egg, holding it to his mouth, her eyes sparkling with anticipation. “Try the egg first. See if it suits your taste.”
Lu Yan paused, lifting his eyes to meet her enthusiastic gaze, warmth seeping straight into his chest.
He slowly looked down, remained silent for a moment, then leaned forward and took the spoon into his mouth.
The tender steamed egg melted on his tongue, lightly savory, not overly salted—perfect for him.
He slightly turned his head, his fingertips brushing his lips, swallowing carefully, and then nodded silently in approval.
Su Wanqing’s eyes curved into a smile as she propped her chin on one hand, watching him eat steadily, finishing nearly half of what she had brought.
He clearly ate less than an average adult.
If she hadn’t known beforehand about his mild anorexia, seeing him stop after half would have made her doubt whether he liked her food.
Lu Yan’s table manners were excellent: back straight, movements neither hurried nor slow, even using a simple enamel spoon exuding the refinement of an elite officer.
After putting down the spoon, Su Wanqing finally asked nervously, “How is it? Is the soup too bland?”
Lu Yan lifted his eyes, meeting her bright, expectant gaze, and instinctively reached for the small notebook in his pocket but hesitated, then shook his head gently.
Seeing this, Su Wanqing leaned closer, softening her voice: “Does that mean it’s not good? Or just average? Is the dish too bland, or the soup not flavorful enough? Should I adjust it next time?”
He looked at her small, earnest face, her skin tanned by the sea breeze, her lively eyebrows and eyes like a little creature waiting for guidance.
His Adam’s apple moved subtly as he lowered his gaze, picked up his pen, and scribbled a few more words than usual, neat and orderly: “All good, nothing picky.”
“All good, nothing picky?”
Su Wanqing thought: I find that hard to believe.
The portion she brought wasn’t large; to most people, it would barely fill a small appetite.
He only ate half…
Looking at the note, she quietly mused.
She knew Lu Yan wasn’t good at expressing himself, so “all good” was already high praise.
Her tone carried a bit of playful insistence: “From now on, I’ll make your meals. You must tell me your tastes, or I won’t know what you like.”
Lu Yan lifted his eyes, dark depths rippling slightly, like a deep pool stirred by a breeze.
Under her determined gaze, he nodded lightly, agreeing.
Su Wanqing instantly smiled, her voice lively: “Then make me a list of what you like, what you don’t like, and any dietary restrictions. Everything must be clear!”
Lu Yan obediently nodded.
His behavior had an unexpectedly cute contrast.
Su Wanqing pinched her fists, a little itchy to touch him.
Inside the office building, Lu Yan stood upright by the metal cabinet.
He pulled out a dark brown leather folder from the bottom shelf.
The folder seemed long-unused, covered in dust.
Inside were neatly stacked ration coupons, cloth tickets… and his allowance book.
“Commander Lu, what are you looking for, rummaging through that?” Zhao Lei asked curiously, carrying an enamel container.
Lu Yan glanced at him faintly and tucked the folder into his pocket.