The meal proceeded in a stifling, oppressive silence.
Throughout the dinner, only Qin Zheng and Zhou Zhuo engaged in conversation.
Wen Mingyao kept her eyes lowered as she picked up food with her chopsticks, stealing glances at the aunt and nephew pair across the table. She couldn’t help but feel a twinge of surprise.
On the way to the Qin residence earlier, Zhou Zhuo had mentioned that Commander Qin and his wife were usually deeply affectionate.
Yet, from the moment they sat down, the couple hadn’t exchanged a single word, not even a brief glance.
It seemed that this marriage, which outsiders viewed as happy and perfect, was even more troubled than her own marriage with Zhou Zhuo.
Jiang Yao also appeared to have suffered some blow. Her face was pale, and she ate absentmindedly, though her gaze still drifted toward Zhou Zhuo from time to time.
Wen Mingyao lowered her eyelashes slightly and calmly picked up a bite of cold shredded potatoes.
The flavors of sour, spicy, and savory filled her mouth, but as she swallowed, it all turned bland.
She only felt a tightness in her chest, as if something were blocking it.
This oppressive feeling didn’t begin to dissipate until they returned home.
Zhou Zhuo placed the nylon mesh bag in the cabinet and asked in a flat tone, “Are you full?”
Wen Mingyao pursed her lips lightly, not daring to look at him, and gave a slight nod.
Zhou Zhuo looked down at her expressionlessly, a cold, mocking laugh escaping his lips.
Given Wen Mingyao’s usual appetite—she could eat over half a bowl of rice in one sitting…
At the Qin residence, she had only taken two or three bites in total. Did she think she was a cat?
No wonder she wasn’t full!
The more Zhou Zhuo thought about it, the more irritated he became. He then frowned and tugged at his collar.
Just a few days ago, he had clearly thought it best to avoid seeing her, hoping they could each go their own way peacefully.
But every morning after training, he still couldn’t help bringing her food.
Now, the thought of her going hungry only added to his frustration.
He really owed her!
Zhou Zhuo let out an almost imperceptible sigh. “Go get the bowls and chopsticks!”
As he spoke, he picked up a can of yellow peach preserves, tapped the bottom two or three times, and with a large hand covering the lid, gave it a gentle twist.
He took the bowl Wen Mingyao handed him, poured the preserves into it, and pushed it toward her.
His voice sounded stiff. “Eat!”
Without waiting for Wen Mingyao to react, he poured himself a bowl and began eating on his own.
Even after sitting down on the chair, Wen Mingyao was still in a daze.
Looking at the golden-yellow fruit before her, she suddenly felt as if a lifetime had passed.
She was a native of the south. When she first arrived in Rongcheng, she couldn’t adjust to the northern climate at all.
She found the wind too strong and the air too dry.
During the coldest days of winter, she even felt as if the cold wind seeped into the gaps between her bones, and her face ached as if being sliced by knives.
Every time she returned from going outside, she would huddle close to the radiator.
The constant shifts between extreme cold and warmth made catching colds a regular occurrence, and she hated taking medicine, always complaining about how bitter it was.
Later, when Zhou Zhuo found out, he would call her “fussy,” but after she pinched her nose and finished her medicine, he would always bring her a can of yellow peach preserves, calling it a reward for taking her medicine on time.
He even said that when he was a child, he always craved peach preserves whenever he caught a cold.
Wen Mingyao picked up a piece of fruit with her chopsticks and took a bite. It was sweet.
Her eyes grew slightly warm, and a thin layer of mist quickly formed beneath her lowered eyelids.
In truth, she had always preferred light, bland foods since childhood. She didn’t like sweets, nor did she enjoy canned foods that were cold and overly sweet.
But after coming to Rongcheng, she had grown to like yellow peach preserves.
No other reason, only because it was what Zhou Zhuo liked to eat, and it was also sent by Zhou Zhuo.
Later, gradually, her food preferences changed, becoming more and more similar to Zhou Zhuo’s.
By the time Wen Mingyao finished eating, Zhou Zhuo had already returned to his study.
She had originally thought she would sleep well through the night, but she never expected that because of a small bowl of canned food, she tossed and turned until the sky brightened with the first light of dawn before finally falling into a deep sleep.
When she opened her eyes again, it was already eleven o’clock.
Wen Mingyao washed her hands and had just finished serving the food when the courtyard gate suddenly knocked.
She opened the door and saw that the visitor was Xiao Liu, who had picked her up at the station the other day. She quickly put on a gentle smile, “Xiao Liu?”
Meeting her smiling eyes, Xiao Liu scratched his head with a sheepish grin, “Sister-in-law, the leader asked me to tell you that he won’t be coming back for lunch.”
The smile on Wen Mingyao’s lips faltered slightly as she pressed further, “Is he going to eat at the cafeteria?”
“The two enamel mugs he used before are at home. Could you please help me bring them?”
Hearing her say this, Xiao Liu sighed, “The leader is at the medical camp right now. How would he have time to go to the cafeteria?”
Wen Mingyao’s face instantly paled, her voice trembling slightly, “Is he injured?”
“No, no.” Xiao Liu quickly avoided her questioning gaze, “The leader went to visit the wounded. He won’t have time to go to the cafeteria at noon.”
Seeing his evasive answer, Wen Mingyao grew increasingly anxious.
“Xiao Liu, I’ve already prepared the food. Could you wait a few minutes for me and take me to see him?”
“But the leader said…” Xiao Liu frowned. Seeing her anxious expression, he hesitated for a moment before nodding heavily, “Alright.”
Wen Mingyao quickly tidied up, picked up two aluminum lunchboxes filled to the brim, and followed Xiao Liu to the medical camp.
The medical camp didn’t look very large—it was a single-story red brick building. Xiao Liu pointed out the ward for her and then left.
Just as Wen Mingyao raised her hand to knock, voices suddenly came from inside the ward.
She peered through the crack in the door, following the sound.
Lu Ming was leaning against the headboard, his right arm tightly wrapped in layers of thick bandages, stiffly slung across his chest.
“Brother Zhuo, sorry about the other day. I really didn’t know that was Sister-in-law at the time.”
Zhou Zhuo was sitting by the bedside, peeling an apple.
A ray of sunlight fell on his jade-like face, instantly softening his features.
Hearing this, his hand holding the small knife paused slightly. After a moment of silence, he let out a soft “hmm.”
Seeing Zhou Zhuo’s expressionless face as usual, Lu Ming seemed accustomed to it and continued, “Sister-in-law doesn’t seem to match the rumors at all.”
Then, as if remembering something, he asked curiously, “Speaking of which, Brother Zhuo, since you’re already married, why haven’t you gone home for a full two years?”
Zhou Zhuo glanced at him casually and stuffed the peeled apple into his mouth, “Even food can’t shut you up!”
“We’re just in an arranged marriage.”
Wen Mingyao’s hand, which was about to knock, suddenly dropped.
She smiled bitterly to herself. What Zhou Zhuo said wasn’t wrong—from his perspective, it truly was an arranged marriage.
Lu Ming raised his left hand, picked up the apple, and took a big bite.
“Sister-in-law is not only beautiful but also has such an elegant demeanor. I don’t believe you don’t like her.”
Hearing this, Wen Mingyao’s hand holding the lunchboxes trembled violently. She instinctively held her breath, and her previously drooping fingers tightly clenched the hem of her clothes.
Zhou Zhuo recalled Wen Mingyao’s indifferent gaze when she looked at him, and then remembered that book she had treasured for so long…
Did he like it?
A little.
The words reached the tip of his tongue, yet he declared firmly, “I don’t like it!”