Gu’s father’s face was ashen. Slapping Gu Xiuxiu across the face, his brow furrowed tightly: “What nonsense are you spouting? How can you say such things recklessly?”
Gu Jianbin was gone. From now on, the Gu family would have to rely on Gu Jianfeng.
Gu’s father didn’t want Gu Xiuxiu’s jinx mouth to curse Gu Jianfeng’s demise too.
Gu Xiuxiu held her face, staring blankly at Gu’s father, then at Gu Jianfeng, then at Lin Wanxing, who had remained silent the whole time.
Then, with a loud “Wah!” she burst into tears, turned, and ran back to her room, slamming the door shut with a bang.
The yard instantly fell silent.
Only the raspy chirping of cicadas in the distance and Gu Xiuxiu’s suppressed sobbing from inside the room could be heard.
Gu’s father looked at Gu Jianfeng, opened his mouth, but ultimately said nothing, turning and going back to the main room.
At the dining table, only Lin Wanxing and Gu Jianfeng remained.
Along with the half-eaten corn flatbread and pickled vegetable lumps.
Gu Jianfeng stood in place, fists clenched, veins bulging on the back of his hands.
His chest heaved violently, clearly very angry.
Lin Wanxing stood up, walked to his side, and gently tugged his sleeve.
“Jianfeng,” her voice was very soft, “sit down and eat.”
Gu Jianfeng turned his head to look at her.
Her face showed no expression, her eyes calm, as if the earlier commotion had nothing to do with her.
His heart ached.
“Wanxing,” his voice hoarse, “I’m sorry.”
Lin Wanxing shook her head: “It’s not your fault.”
She paused, looking at his clenched fist, and said softly: “Let’s eat first. The food will get cold.”
Gu Jianfeng took a deep breath, slowly unclenching his fist, and sat down again.
But he didn’t touch his chopsticks again. He just lowered his head, staring at the bowl of porridge that had already turned cold, lost in thought.
Lin Wanxing also didn’t speak further.
She ate the flatbread in small bites, but her mind was already calculating.
The mess that was the Gu family was even more troublesome than she’d imagined.
Gu’s mother’s schemes, Gu Xiuxiu’s hostility, and that Gu Jianbin who hadn’t shown up yet but would eventually return…
She had to think of a way to leave with Gu Jianfeng as soon as possible.
…
In the afternoon, Gu Jianfeng went back to the private plot.
Lin Wanxing didn’t go along.
She stayed home, thoroughly cleaning the yard—left unfinished after yesterday’s wedding feast.
Then she tidied the bridal chamber carefully.
Actually, there wasn’t much to tidy. The room was small, with few belongings, but she still arranged everything neatly.
After that, she went to the kitchen, washing and cutting the vegetables for dinner, rinsing the rice as well.
By the time Gu Jianfeng returned from the field, she had almost finished preparing dinner.
Gu Jianfeng was covered in sweat, mud on his hands and feet.
He went to the well to rinse off first, then returned to the room to change clothes.
Lin Wanxing was stir-frying at the stove. Hearing footsteps, she glanced back.
Gu Jianfeng had changed into a clean army green shirt, buttoned up to the top, making his neck appear long, his Adam’s apple prominent.
His hair was damp, still dripping. He wiped it roughly with a towel, his movements somewhat clumsy.
“Back?” Lin Wanxing said. “Food’s almost ready. Go call Mom, Dad, and Xiuxiu to eat.”
Gu Jianfeng nodded, turning toward the main room.
But a moment later, he returned alone.
“Mom said they’re not hungry, will eat later.” Gu Jianfeng’s voice was somewhat low. “Xiuxiu… isn’t coming out either.”
Lin Wanxing understood.
This was them giving her the cold shoulder.
“Then let’s eat first,” she said calmly, scooping the stir-fried vegetables onto a plate.
Dinner was simple.
Stir-fried shredded potatoes, steamed eggplant, and the leftover corn flatbread from lunch.
The two sat facing each other at the small low table in the yard.
The sun was setting. Brilliant sunset clouds burned at the horizon, casting an orange-red light on the earthen walls, gliding everything with a warm hue.
In the distance, dogs barked, and children played noisily.
But within the Gu family courtyard, it was quiet, somewhat oppressive.
Gu Jianfeng ate with his head down, not speaking.
Lin Wanxing also remained silent.
After finishing the meal, only then did Gu Jianfeng put down his bowl and look at Lin Wanxing.
“Wanxing,” he began, his voice somewhat hesitant, “you… would you like to go to town and have a look?”
Lin Wanxing looked up: “Town?”
“Mm.” Gu Jianfeng nodded. “I have some matters to attend to at the commune’s armed forces department tomorrow. While I’m there… I’d like to buy you something. You came with nothing.”
As he spoke, his eyes held apology.
Lin Wanxing indeed had brought nothing.
The Lin family treated her as a liability, practically sending her out empty-handed.
The clothes she wore were still the new ones Gu Jianfeng had bought for her.
“Alright,” Lin Wanxing nodded. “I’d actually like to see it too. The betrothal gifts I brought, along with the ration coupons and industrial vouchers, haven’t been used yet. Let’s see what we can add for our home.”
Seeing her agree, a slight smile appeared on Gu Jianfeng’s face: “Then we’ll go first thing tomorrow morning.”
…
The yard fell completely silent. Occasionally, a few barks from dogs in the distance accentuated the deepening night.
The evening breeze brushed past, carrying the scents of cornstalks and soil from the fields, dispelling the day’s heat, bringing a touch of coolness.
Gu Jianfeng finished cleaning the stove, splashing the last bit of dishwater beside the vegetable patch in the corner of the yard.
After a full day of work, he took a final rinse at the well, walking back while wiping his short hair with an old towel, his body carrying the coolness of the well water.
“All cleaned up?” he asked, his voice particularly deep in the quiet night.
“Mm.” Lin Wanxing nodded, lowering the sleeves she had rolled up. “Let’s go back inside.”
They walked into the bridal chamber with the red double happiness character one after the other.
Gu Jianfeng walked behind, carefully bolting the somewhat flimsy wooden door, then habitually gave the door a firm shake to confirm it was secure.
Inside the room was darker than the yard. Only hazy moonlight filtered through the red paper on the window lattice, barely outlining the furniture.
Gu Jianfeng groped his way to the small wooden table by the kang. Striking a match, a soft hiss sounded.
A small orange-yellow flame jumped up, lighting the tiny glass-shaded kerosene lamp.
Warm yellow light immediately dispelled a corner of the darkness, illuminating the bright red mandarin duck quilt on the kang, and also Lin Wanxing’s face standing at the edge of the light.
She was lifting a hand to undo her loosely tied low ponytail. Jet-black, waterfall-like hair instantly cascaded down, spilling over her shoulders. The ends held a slight dampness, glowing softly under the lamplight.
Gu Jianfeng stared blankly for a moment, still holding the extinguished matchstick, forgetting to discard it.
Lin Wanxing turned her head. Seeing him standing there dazed, his gaze fixed on her hair, she couldn’t help curling her lips into a slight smile: “What are you looking at? Don’t recognize me?”
Gu Jianfeng snapped back to reality. A blush spread across his bronze face as he hastily averted his eyes. Lowering his head, he tossed the matchstick into a chipped enamel mug by the table, muttering: “N-nothing… wasn’t looking at anything.”
He turned, going to check the window latch again—even though he’d already checked it when they entered.
Lin Wanxing didn’t expose him. She casually took off her outer garment, wearing only a white cotton sleeveless top and loose trousers.
She sat on the edge of the kang, combing her long hair with her fingers, but her gaze fell on the corner.
There, the wheat straw and old army quilt from Gu Jianfeng’s makeshift bed yesterday were laid out again.
“Tonight, you sleep on the kang.” Lin Wanxing took over the conversation, her tone calm yet brooking no argument. “The floor is damp. Sleeping there long-term hurts your back. You’re a soldier; your back and legs are even more important.”
“I’m fine, I’m used to it…” Gu Jianfeng still wanted to insist.
“Gu Jianfeng.” Lin Wanxing called him by his full name. Her voice wasn’t loud, but it made him turn around immediately.
“We are husband and wife, spending a lifetime together. Do you plan to keep sleeping on the floor until we’re both in our seventies or eighties?”
Gu Jianfeng was rendered speechless by her question.
The kerosene lamp’s light cast swaying shadows between his deep-set brows and eyes.
Of course he wanted to sleep on the kang, beside her.
Just thinking about it made his heart thump wildly like a rabbit was stuffed in his chest.
But…
“I… I’m afraid…” he finally said it, his eyes evasive, not daring to look at her in just her sleeveless top.
Those fair shoulders and arms, under the dim yellow light, looked like fine mutton-fat jade, dazzling him, making his heart race.
“Afraid of what?” Lin Wanxing knew very well but deliberately made him say it.
She liked seeing him like this—innocent yet struggling.
Gu Jianfeng’s face flushed even redder; fine sweat even appeared at his temples.
He lifted a sleeve to wipe it roughly, his Adam’s apple bobbing violently. “Afraid… afraid I won’t be able to control myself… afraid you’ll be in pain…”
These few short words were uttered with extreme difficulty, as if each word scalded his mouth.
Lin Wanxing’s heart softened completely, but she kept her expression relaxed, even adding a hint of teasing.
“Oh, so that’s what you’re afraid of.” She patted the kang surface beside her, covered with a new bedsheet. “Come up. I trust you. Besides, if it really hurts… that’s a matter for later. Tonight, let’s just sleep well, alright?”
Her tone was so natural, with a touch of sisterly indulgence, as if coaxing a younger brother.
Gu Jianfeng’s tightly strung nerves relaxed oddly.
He looked into her clear eyes—no fear, no disgust, only gentle encouragement.
“Just… just sleep?” he asked as if confirming, his feet unconsciously taking a step forward.
“Mm, just sleep.” Lin Wanxing nodded affirmatively, already lifting a corner of the quilt, lying down first, facing inward, leaving the outer half of the space for him.
“We’ve been tired all day. We’re going to town tomorrow.”
These words seemed to offer Gu Jianfeng a way out.
He stood where he was, hesitating for a few more seconds, finally appearing to make up his mind. Taking a deep breath, he walked to the edge of the kang.
He didn’t get on immediately. Instead, he bent over, somewhat stiffly taking off his trousers and shirt, leaving only the army-issued green undershirt and knee-length army green shorts.
His physique was excellent: broad shoulders, narrow waist, long straight legs, muscle lines smooth and not exaggerated, glowing with a healthy honey hue under the lamplight, full of poised power.
Although Lin Wanxing faced inward, she could hear the rustle of clothes being removed and feel the slight dip of the bedding behind her.
He was getting on.
Very slowly, very lightly, with utmost caution—as if he weren’t stepping onto a kang, but a minefield.
He lay down, his body rigidly straight, clinging to the very outer edge of the kang, a wide, unbreachable boundary between him and Lin Wanxing.
He even carefully pulled a corner of his own quilt over himself, wrapping up tightly, only his head exposed.
Lin Wanxing couldn’t help wanting to laugh.
Was she more terrifying than some ferocious beast?
The room was so quiet, only the deliberately lightened breathing of two people remained, along with the faint crackle of the kerosene lamp wick burning.
So close. Close enough that Lin Wanxing could clearly smell the fresh scent of soap beans on him, mixed with a unique, sun-dried dryness that belonged solely to him.
The presence behind her was intense, impossible to ignore.
Gu Jianfeng was even more rigid, not moving a muscle, eyes fixed straight on the dark roof beams. He even deliberately lengthened and slowed his breath, afraid of disturbing something.
But the more he tried to control it, the sharper certain senses became.
The soft, fragrant scent of a woman drifted from beside him, thread by thread, seeping into his nostrils.
The faint rustle of fabric when she turned over was infinitely magnified.
He could even vaguely sense the warmth from her body…
Those memories of her guiding him to “handle it himself” surged up inopportunely, bringing blush-inducing details.
The restlessness he’d suppressed with cold water at the well earlier now, catalyzed by darkness and silence, threatened to return with a vengeance, even intensify.
He inwardly groaned, desperately reciting army regulations in his mind, recalling training drills, trying to divert his attention.
But his body’s instincts stubbornly rebelled. Something began to stir uncontrollably, bringing waves of indescribable torment.
He couldn’t help shifting his leg ever so slightly, wanting to adjust his posture for relief.
An extremely low, suppressed groan still escaped his throat.
“What’s wrong?” Lin Wanxing’s voice suddenly sounded, particularly clear in the silence.
She had turned over at some point, now facing him, lying on her side with one hand under her cheek, quietly watching him in the dim yellow glow.
Gu Jianfeng started violently, almost rolling off the edge of the kang.
He abruptly tightened his abdominal muscles, trying to hide it, his voice strained: “N-no… nothing! My leg… leg cramped a bit.”
A clumsy excuse.
Lin Wanxing’s gaze swept over his face. She saw the glistening sweat at his temples, his tightly pressed lips, and the slightly quivering Adam’s apple. Looking further down… the rise and fall under the thin army green quilt was actually quite noticeable.
Understanding dawned. That mischievous urge to tease him surfaced again.
“Oh? Cramp, huh…” she drew out the tone, her voice carrying obvious skepticism. Her eyes curved like crescent moons. “Doesn’t look like it to me. Feeling uncomfortable again?”
With a whoosh, Gu Jianfeng felt all the blood in his body rush to his head. His face burned hot enough to fry an egg.
He shook his head: “No! No! Really not!”
“Is that so?” Instead of backing off, Lin Wanxing propped herself up slightly, leaning closer. Strands of hair slipped from her shoulder, carrying a faint soap fragrance, brushing past his arm.
She lowered her voice, speaking in a breathy tone only the two could hear, tinged with mischievous amusement: “Then… are you thinking of handling it yourself again?”
These words struck Gu Jianfeng like a thunderbolt straight to the crown of his head.
He was utterly stunned, wide-eyed, staring at Lin Wanxing so close.
A teasing smile played on her face, her eyes bright and sparkling—not a hint of shyness. Only a boldness that made his heart stop.
“I… I…” His tongue tangled, unable to form a complete sentence for a long moment. He was so ashamed he wished he could immediately dig a hole and disappear.
Yet, under her gaze, his body’s reaction grew even stronger.
Pain and pleasure intertwined, tormenting him until the corners of his eyes even welled with physiological moisture.
Seeing him on the verge of exploding, Lin Wanxing knew when to stop.
She lay back down, but left behind a light, airy sentence—enough to keep Gu Jianfeng up all night:
“If it’s really unbearable… don’t hold back. Or… do you need my help?”
After saying this, she closed her eyes, as if she’d merely casually remarked, “The weather will be nice tomorrow.”
Only the arc at the corner of her mouth, impossible to suppress, betrayed her current mood.
Gu Jianfeng remained frozen in place, as if under a spell.
The phrase “do you need my help” echoed repeatedly in his mind. Each word scalded him, making his soul flee.
Help him? How? Like… like he had last night?
Once this thought arose, it spread like wildfire.
The roar of rushing blood pounded in his eardrums, nearly making him lose control on the spot.