Noon.
A young soldier came to deliver lunch to Fang Muyu, but Lu Yancheng did not show up.
“Where’s your company commander?” Fang Muyu raised an eyebrow.
“The company commander is busy,” the young soldier replied stiffly.
Fang Muyu didn’t think much of it.
The meal was prepared exactly as she had requested.
A tender, fragrant steamed egg custard was topped with glistening, reddish minced meat, its aroma alone enough to whet the appetite.
There was also a bowl of milky-white bone broth.
If only they could have left out the potatoes she disliked.
Fang Muyu didn’t have a big appetite. Lu Yancheng had prepared far too much; she could only finish half before feeling full.
Wasting food was shameful.
Fortunately, the weather wasn’t too hot, so she could save the leftovers for dinner.
When the young soldier returned to collect the lunchbox, Fang Muyu told him to come back in the evening and to pass along the message that Lu Yancheng didn’t need to send dinner.
…
The family quarters.
Lu Yancheng was working shirtless.
Wu Weiguo and Song Hao, who had been roped into helping, worked while occasionally exchanging glances.
“Report, Company Commander. Your wife said you don’t need to send dinner tonight.”
A young soldier walked in through the doorway.
Lu Yancheng paused, his expression darkening further. The air around him grew heavy and intimidating, radiating a chilling aura that kept others at a distance.
Song Hao couldn’t help but shiver.
The last time the company commander had been in such a foul mood was when their company lost a competition. That month had been pure misery for everyone.
This couldn’t go on.
Song Hao shot Wu Weiguo a meaningful look.
Wu Weiguo hadn’t yet caught on.
“Company Commander, Company Commander Wu has something to say to you. We’re running low on water—I’ll go fetch some.”
With that, Song Hao made his escape.
“That little rascal.”
Wu Weiguo met Lu Yancheng’s gaze and sighed.
“Tell me, what’s going on?”
“Nothing.” Lu Yancheng continued working, his face expressionless.
“Come on, with a face like that—looking like the entire military district owes you six months’ pay—you call that nothing?” Wu Weiguo lowered his voice. “Did you have a fight with your wife?”
Lu Yancheng didn’t respond, but his movements faltered slightly.
Wu Weiguo, sharp-eyed as ever, noticed. “I knew it. Let me tell you, when women get upset, it’s all the same—you have to coax them!”
“We didn’t fight,” Lu Yancheng grumbled.
“How is that not a fight?” Wu Weiguo nearly rolled his eyes. “Your face is practically broadcasting it to the world.”
Lu Yancheng remained silent.
Listen, women just need a little pampering.
…
The setting sun cast its afterglow over the island, bathing everything in a warm, golden hue.
Along the paths on the island grew vast patches of dandelions, their round, white puffballs swaying gently in the sea breeze—a sight of indescribable beauty.
Lu Yancheng, just off duty, couldn’t help but pause at the sight of these white puffballs, his mind flashing back to what Wu Weiguo had said the day before.
His brow furrowed slightly, his lips pressed into a tight line, and a flicker of inner conflict stirred in his eyes.
In the end, he still walked to the side of the path and crouched down.
Just as Lu Yancheng reached out to pinch one of the white puffballs, the sound of footsteps from his subordinates suddenly echoed behind him.
His fingers froze mid-air, and he quickly withdrew his hand, stood up straight, and clasped his hands behind his back, pretending to be admiring the distant scenery.
“Good evening, Company Commander.”
“Good evening.”
Lu Yancheng’s expression remained as cold and stern as usual, though the tips of his ears flushed faintly with warmth.
After standing there for a few minutes, waiting for the young soldiers to leave, he swiftly crouched down again.
His fingertips brushed against the slender stem, and with a gentle pinch, the white puffball settled neatly into his palm.
However, in that slight movement, quite a few white seeds had already drifted away.
Lu Yancheng’s brow furrowed.
It wouldn’t look as nice if it was incomplete.
He carefully touched the stem again…
Just as he had managed to pluck a few intact ones, a voice suddenly exploded beside him—
“Lu Yancheng! Are you picking flowers?!”
Lu Yancheng’s fingers stiffened abruptly.
He turned to look.
Good grief—Wu Weiguo, along with a group of soldiers, had somehow appeared behind him, wearing a mischievous grin.
The air froze.
Lu Yancheng crouched on the ground, clutching the dandelion in his hand, his expression as if it had been plastered over with cement.
One second.
Two seconds.
Three seconds.
With a completely blank face, he raised the dandelion to eye level, squinted as if examining it carefully, and then spoke in an extremely serious tone, as if conducting battlefield reconnaissance:
“This is a common wild plant of the Asteraceae family.”
His voice was utterly devoid of emotion.
“According to the Compendium of Materia Medica, dandelions are cold in nature and bitter in taste, possessing the effects of clearing heat, detoxifying, reducing swelling, and dispersing nodules.”
He paused, turned the dandelion over, and continued with a deadpan analysis:
“Dandelions are perennial herbaceous plants belonging to the genus Taraxacum of the Asteraceae family. They are neither trees nor shrubs—just small herbs that grow close to the ground, bloom with yellow flowers, and produce white puffballs.”
The entire scene fell into dead silence.
Wu Weiguo stood with his mouth agape, unsure how to respond.
Lu Yancheng stood up, raised the dandelion to eye level again, turned it over, and nodded expressionlessly.
“Everyone should read more and practice more in their daily lives. We can’t remain ignorant or be easily surprised by the unfamiliar, calling dandelions flowers the moment we see them.”
Wu Weiguo’s mouth twitched.
“Who are you trying to fool? Everyone’s eyes are sharp.”
The soldiers exchanged glances, their mouths tightly shut, but the amusement in their eyes was almost overflowing.
The company commander was just picking flowers.
The company commander picked a dandelion.
The company commander even recited the Compendium of Materia Medica to us.
But no one dared to laugh.
At that moment, Lu Yancheng stood as straight as a steel blade, every pore on his body screaming:
Whoever dares to laugh will die.
Wu Weiguo suppressed the corners of his mouth, which kept threatening to curl upward.
“Ahem, ahem—just now, none of you saw Company Commander Lu picking flowers, right?”
The soldiers shook their heads like rattles.
“Right, right! I didn’t see anything at all!”
“Company Commander Lu is just squatting down to tie his shoelaces!”
“No, the company commander is—is—is collecting specimens! For the health of the company’s soldiers!”
Lu Yancheng: …
He really appreciates it!