The atmosphere was so oppressive it was hard to breathe.
The second courtyard, usually filled with laughter and chatter, was now so silent that even a pin dropping could be heard.
In the center of the main hall sat an elderly man with graying hair and a commanding presence. Leaning heavily on his cane, his chest rose and fell violently with anger.
It was Su Huaijin’s grandfather, Old Chief Su.
At his feet lay a shattered blue-and-white porcelain teacup. Tea had splashed all over the floor, still steaming.
And kneeling before the mess, trembling in fear, were Wang Fang and Su Wan.
“You ungrateful wretches! Kneel properly!”
Old Master Su slammed his cane against the floor with a thunderous bang, making Su Wan jerk violently as tears instantly streamed down her face.
Half an hour earlier—
The old man’s guard had rushed in anxiously, saying that an urgent call had come from the Northwest Military Region. It was Regiment Commander Cheng Beitang calling personally.
The old man had actually been delighted at first upon hearing it was his grandson-in-law. He thought the young couple was calling to share good news.
Instead, the guard relayed words that nearly gave the old man a stroke on the spot.
“Someone falsely claimed the old chief is critically ill.”
“They’ve been mentally abusing my wife.”
“If anyone dares make life difficult for my wife, I’ll lead troops to Beijing and settle the score personally!”
Every sentence made Old Master Su’s temples throb violently.
Though retired, his authority remained unquestionable. Who dared pull such tricks right under his nose?
He immediately ordered an investigation.
And once they looked into it, the draft copy of the letter Su Wan had sent, along with the twenty-yuan remittance stub, were quickly uncovered.
Smack!
Old Master Su hurled the stack of evidence directly into Wang Fang’s face.
“Look at the disgusting things you’ve done! Huh?!”
Pointing at Wang Fang with a trembling finger, he roared:
“I’m not dead yet! Since when did this household become yours to control? You actually dared curse me as critically ill? And you tried to cut off Huaijin’s way home?”
Wang Fang was stunned by the slap of papers against her face. Clutching her cheek, she burst into tears.
“Dad! I didn’t! I was only doing it for Huaijin’s own good! I was afraid she couldn’t endure the hardship there and would try to run back. If that happened, both the Su family and the Cheng family would lose face!”
“Bullshit!”
The old man exploded with a rare curse.
“For her own good? For her own good, you sent her twenty yuan? Do you know how much pocket money she used to get every month growing up? You were treating her like a beggar!”
He turned toward Su Wan, who was kneeling nearby crying pitifully.
“And you! Your sister is suffering out there, and what do you do? Write to flaunt your engagement? Even included a newspaper clipping to scare her? Did all your education go to the dogs? Who taught you to be this vicious?!”
Su Wan was so frightened she could barely speak.
“Grandpa, I was wrong… I just got confused for a moment… I didn’t mean it…”
“Confused?”
Old Master Su sneered coldly, disappointment and resolve filling his eyes.
“I think you were perfectly clear-headed. Clear-headed enough to think that once Huaijin got married and left, this family would belong to you.”
Taking a deep breath, he delivered his final judgment in an icy voice:
“Starting today, Wang Fang, hand over control of the household finances. You’re no longer in charge. From now on, you’ll receive fifty yuan a month for living expenses. Take it or leave it.”
Wang Fang collapsed weakly onto the floor as if struck by lightning.
Fifty yuan?
She used to spend more than that on a single salon appointment.
“And as for you, Su Wan.”
The old man looked at the granddaughter who had always acted sweet and obedient before him, his gaze utterly cold.
“You’re eager to marry that boy from the Xu family, aren’t you? Fine. Since you enjoy showing off so much, then there’s no need to rush the engagement. When Huaijin is truly living comfortably in the Northwest, then we’ll discuss your marriage.”
“What?!”
Su Wan shot her head up, disbelief written all over her face.
Delay the engagement?
How could that happen?!
She had worked so hard to steal Brother Xu away from Su Huaijin. If they delayed too long, anything could happen!
“Grandpa! No! The Xu family has already agreed—”
“Enough! My word is final!”
Old Master Su cut her off decisively, no longer sparing the mother and daughter another glance.
“Go back to your rooms and reflect on yourselves! Without my permission, neither of you is allowed to step outside this house!”
After handling the family affairs, the old man leaned back in exhaustion.
Looking out at the bustling scenery of Beijing, his heart was filled with guilt toward the granddaughter so far away in the Northwest.
“Huaijin… Grandpa has failed you…”
He called over his guard and pulled out a bankbook from his inner pocket.
“Go. Mail this to Huaijin. Tell her Grandpa is perfectly healthy and that she shouldn’t listen to those rumors. And if… if she truly can’t endure life there anymore, then even if I have to throw away all my pride, I’ll bring her home myself.”
…
Northwest Military Region Family Compound.
When Cheng Beitang returned, Su Huaijin was no longer crying.
She sat at the table covered with a floral cloth, pen in hand, sketching something on paper. Though her eyes were still swollen red, her expression had calmed. There was even a new sense of determination in her gaze.
“You’re back?”
Hearing the door open, she looked up at him.
Cheng Beitang gave a low grunt and walked over, placing two aluminum lunch boxes onto the table.
“The cafeteria had braised lion’s head meatballs tonight. I fought to get you two.”
His tone remained calm and unreadable, but the murderous aura around him had disappeared, replaced by a grounded steadiness.
Looking at the steaming meatballs, warmth spread through Su Huaijin’s heart.
“The call… you made it?” she asked cautiously.
“I did.”
Sitting across from her, Cheng Beitang arranged her chopsticks with his uninjured left hand.
“Your grandfather’s healthy. He’s not sick. That letter was your stepmother and them stirring up trouble.”
He lightly skipped over the fury he had unleashed over the phone, only giving her the reassurance she needed.
“Don’t worry. They won’t dare do it again. I’ve already handled things back in Beijing.”
Su Huaijin tightened her grip on her chopsticks.
Though she had suspected it, hearing the truth directly finally lifted the heavy stone crushing her heart.
Grandpa was fine.
And this man had truly confronted her family for her sake.
“Cheng Beitang… thank you,” she said softly, lowering her head.
“I’m your man. What are you thanking me for?”
He placed a large meatball into her bowl, his tone overbearing yet natural.
“Eat. You’ll need strength if you want to think about anything else.”
Su Huaijin took a bite of the richly flavored meatball.
Looking up at Cheng Beitang, a new light sparkled in her eyes.
“Cheng Beitang, I’ve decided something.”
“What?”
“I can’t keep relying on you to support me.” She set down her chopsticks seriously. “Your monthly allowance is limited, and you still send money to the families of fallen soldiers. I spend too much money. Sooner or later, I’ll eat you broke.”
Cheng Beitang frowned.
“I can afford to support you. If there’s not enough money, I’ll just go—”
“This isn’t about money.”
Su Huaijin interrupted him. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it carried strength.
“I, Su Huaijin, am not some parasitic vine that can’t survive without clinging to a tree. Since the people in Beijing want to laugh at me, then I’ll prove to them I can thrive.”
She pushed the sheet of paper covered in sketches toward him.
“I want to work. I want to earn my own money.”
Cheng Beitang lowered his gaze.
The paper wasn’t filled with random doodles—it was covered in clothing design sketches. The lines were elegant, the styles innovative. Even someone as uncultured in fashion as him could tell how beautiful the designs were.
“You want to make clothes to sell?” he asked.
“Not sell. Design.”
Confidence shone in Su Huaijin’s eyes.
“I’m a student from Beijing University. Even though life is difficult now, I can’t abandon my field. I heard the military district often holds cultural performances. I want to try joining the arts troupe as a costume designer.”
In this era, the arts troupe was a highly respected position. It came with wages, status, and exposure to the newest artistic trends.
Most importantly, she wanted to use her own abilities to establish herself in this unfamiliar place.
Cheng Beitang looked at her vibrant little face.
The spoiled girl who cried over hard beds was gone.
In her place was a rose taking root in the desert winds, striving to bloom.
A faint smile curved his lips.
“Alright.”
He reached out and rubbed the top of her head.
“If you want to do it, then do it. If the sky falls, your man will hold it up.”
…
The opportunity came faster than expected.
Three days later, the announcement board outside the military cafeteria was packed with people.
“Look! There’s going to be a huge National Day performance this year! I heard the scale is massive—even leaders from headquarters are coming!”
“Yeah! The arts troupe is going all out this time. They’re staging a large musical called Flowers of the Gobi.”
Su Huaijin, carrying her military-green canvas bag, was also drawn toward the crowd as she passed by.
A National Day performance?
Wasn’t this the perfect stage to showcase her talent?
She squeezed through the crowd and carefully read the announcement.
Just then, a sharp female voice rang beside her.
“Well, if it isn’t Comrade Su. What’s this? A pampered Beijing princess like you is interested in our ‘rustic’ little performance?”
Su Huaijin turned around.
Lin Xue stood there in a brand-new arts troupe uniform, her braided pigtails swinging as she crossed her arms smugly.
Ever since the pickled-bean incident, Lin Xue had completely begun to resent Su Huaijin.
In her eyes, Su Huaijin was nothing but a pretty vase who didn’t deserve the heroic Cheng Beitang.
“Comrade Lin jokes too much.”
Su Huaijin’s expression remained calm and dignified.
“Art exists to serve the people. Why divide it into rustic or refined? As a military wife, isn’t it natural for me to care about the military district’s cultural development?”
That lofty response instantly left Lin Xue speechless.
“Hmph. Sharp tongue.”
Lin Xue sneered, her eyes sweeping over Su Huaijin’s homemade modified dress with obvious jealousy.
“What’s the use of talking? This performance is a political task. It requires people who can endure hardship and possess real talent. A spoiled little princess like you, who only knows how to dress up and can’t even sweep properly, should stop embarrassing yourself.”
The crowd around them began whispering.
“Yeah, I heard Comrade Su is really delicate. What can she even do?”
“The arts troupe requires genuine skill. Being pretty isn’t enough.”
Facing the doubts and Lin Xue’s provocation, Su Huaijin didn’t get angry.
Instead, she smiled lightly—a smile so radiant it dimmed the scenery around her.
“Comrade Lin is right. Real talent is necessary.”
Lifting her chin, she looked straight into Lin Xue’s eyes and said clearly:
“Coincidentally, I studied fashion design. I heard the costumes for Flowers of the Gobi haven’t been finalized yet. I’d like to give it a try.”
The entire crowd erupted instantly.
Lin Xue laughed exaggeratedly as though she had heard the biggest joke in the world.
“You? Designing performance costumes? Hahaha! Su Huaijin, do you think this is dressing up dolls? This is a revolutionary musical! We need simplicity, grandeur, and fighting spirit! Your capitalist little romantic fantasies are useless here!”
She was convinced a rich young lady like Su Huaijin knew nothing about revolutionary aesthetics.
“Whether it’s romantic nonsense or not—you’ll know once the sketches are done.”
Su Huaijin didn’t retreat an inch. Her eyes were steady, even provocative.
“Since Comrade Lin is the star performer of the arts troupe, how about we make a bet? If my design is selected by the troupe, you’ll apologize publicly in front of everyone for what you just said. Deal?”
Lin Xue was enraged.
How could she possibly lose to a decorative flower vase?
“Fine! If you lose, stay away from Brother Beitang and crawl back to your Beijing home!”
“Deal.”
…
Over the next two days, Su Huaijin entered full isolation mode again.
She locked herself inside the cozy little home she had transformed, obsessively sketching designs day and night.
Though Cheng Beitang said little, his actions showed complete support.
He took over all the housework and constantly brought delicious food back from the cafeteria. At night, while she worked late into the darkness, he sat beside her silently, occasionally refilling her enamel mug with hot water.
Under the dim yellow glow of the kerosene lamp, Su Huaijin’s focused profile was mesmerizing.
Her pencil scratched steadily across the paper.
After all, she was professionally trained and possessed modern aesthetic sensibilities. She understood that although this era valued simplicity, simplicity didn’t mean ugliness.
How to preserve military elements and revolutionary spirit while making the costumes visually striking and artistically elegant—that was the challenge she needed to solve.
She researched extensively and combined the unique landscapes of the Gobi Desert with endless streams of inspiration.
Finally, in the early hours of the third morning—
Su Huaijin set down her pencil and rubbed her sore neck.
Looking at the completed stack of sketches on the desk, she let out a long breath.
Done.
Behind her, Cheng Beitang had unknowingly fallen asleep against the headboard. He was still draped in his old military coat, brows slightly furrowed as though even in his dreams he was still carrying out dangerous missions.
Moving quietly, Su Huaijin walked over and picked up the coat, intending to cover him properly.
The moment she got close, Cheng Beitang woke instantly.
His eyes snapped open, sharp and alert. His right hand instinctively moved toward his waist—where a gun would normally be holstered.
But once he realized it was Su Huaijin, all the killing intent around him vanished immediately.
“Finished drawing?” he asked hoarsely.
“Mhm. Finished.”
She draped the coat over him and sat beside the bed, proudly handing him the top sketch.
“Commander Cheng, care to give your opinion?”
Cheng Beitang accepted the drawing.
Under the kerosene light, he finally saw the design.
It was a female soldier’s dance costume.
No longer the same baggy, shapeless Lenin-style uniforms everyone wore.
Su Huaijin had cleverly added a fitted waistline that highlighted feminine beauty. Yet on the shoulders and cuffs, she incorporated military epaulettes and insignia, giving it a heroic edge.
The most brilliant part was the skirt.
She designed it with asymmetrical cuts resembling sand dunes swept by desert winds—dynamic yet filled with resilient vitality.
As for color, she boldly combined army green with a fiery pomegranate red in contrasting panels.
The entire outfit preserved the iron-blooded spirit of soldiers while radiating artistic beauty and dramatic tension.
Even a rough man like Cheng Beitang couldn’t help being impressed.
If his wife wore something like this…
How beautiful would she look?
“Well? Is it okay?” Su Huaijin asked nervously.
Cheng Beitang lifted his gaze to her eyes—bloodshot from sleepless nights, yet brighter than ever.
His throat bobbed.
Reaching out, he gently caressed her slightly exhausted face.
“Wife.”
His deep voice carried unmistakable pride and admiration.
“These hands of yours… are damn near miraculous.”
Su Huaijin smiled.
A smile brighter than the desert sun itself.
With those words, she feared nothing anymore.
Tomorrow—
The arts troupe’s costume design selection competition.
And Su Huaijin was going to amaze every single person there.