Li Zhihuan’s “laziness” had become famous throughout the compound.
While other military wives got up before dawn to cook, do laundry, send their children to school, and head off to work, Li Zhihuan was usually still in her dreams.
By the time she woke naturally and slowly got up, the entire courtyard was already empty.
This unconventional lifestyle naturally became the perfect target for Meng Yao.
Meng Yao was a smart woman.
Their previous confrontation had taught her that Li Zhihuan was no longer the foolish woman she could easily manipulate.
Direct confrontation wouldn’t work anymore—so she would use softer weapons.
Flattery and comparison were her specialties.
And so, a “beautiful scene” appeared in the military compound.
Meng Yao, the gentle and kind dance performer from the cultural troupe, not only practiced diligently every day but also helped everyone in the compound with whatever she could.
One day she helped Aunt Zhang sew shoe soles, the next she babysat for Sister Li, and the next she brought dumplings she made herself to Dr. Liu, who lived alone.
She was like a hardworking little bee, moving through every corner of the compound and earning endless praise.
“Look at Meng Yao—such a good girl, beautiful and capable!”
“Exactly. Whoever marries her will be incredibly lucky.”
“Unlike some people who married a battalion commander and still sleep until noon, doing nothing but enjoying life.”
These words, both subtle and direct, were like knives aimed at Li Zhihuan.
That afternoon, Li Zhihuan had just placed her small stool under the shade of a tree in the courtyard and was preparing to study a newly borrowed cookbook.
Meng Yao walked over gracefully, carrying a basin of freshly washed clothes.
A few familiar military wives followed behind her.
“Sister Zhihuan, still resting?” Meng Yao smiled sweetly and harmlessly, her voice pitched just right for everyone to hear.
Li Zhihuan didn’t even lift her eyelids, simply turning a page.
“Something you need?”
“Ah, that’s not what I meant.” Meng Yao pretended to slap her own mouth lightly. “I just thought you might be bored sitting alone. Everyone’s busy, so why don’t you come out and help? Aunt Wang is putting up window paper today and needs help. Let’s go together?”
Her words were flawless.
She both showcased her kindness and firmly labeled Li Zhihuan as “lazy and unsociable.”
The surrounding military wives chimed in:
“Yes, Zhihuan, come out and chat with everyone. It’ll be lively.”
“We military wives should help each other and also bring honor to Captain Qi’s face.”
All eyes turned to Li Zhihuan, waiting to see how she would respond.
If she refused, she would confirm her reputation as selfish and lazy.
If she agreed, she would be led around by Meng Yao forever.
Li Zhihuan sneered inwardly.
She had seen this kind of moral coercion in the workplace too many times.
Just as she was about to respond with her “corporate worker survival tactics,” an unexpected voice interrupted first.
“She’s not going.”
The voice came from inside the house, carrying a hint of impatience.
Everyone turned toward the sound.
Lin Fen walked out with a dark expression.
She was holding a handful of green beans, clearly about to prepare vegetables when she heard the commotion outside.
Everyone froze.
Especially Meng Yao, whose smile stiffened slightly.
Everyone in the compound knew Lin Fen was one of the most difficult mothers-in-law here—and she had previously disliked Li Zhihuan the most.
So why today…
Lin Fen walked up to Li Zhihuan, dumped the beans into her small basket, and said irritably:
“Didn’t you see she has work here? The house is full of things to do. Who has time for other people’s business?”
She then sat down herself, pulled up a stool, and began snapping beans with practiced efficiency.
Her movements were sharp, her presence strong.
Meng Yao’s face turned red and white in rapid succession.
She hadn’t expected Lin Fen to publicly support Li Zhihuan.
“Aunt Lin, I… that’s not what I meant. I just wanted Sister Zhihuan to come out and move around a bit…”
“Move around?” Lin Fen glanced at her lazily.
“Our Zhihuan is weak. She was sick recently. The doctor said she needs rest, not exhaustion.”
Lin Fen spoke nonsense without even changing expression.
“Besides, taking care of your own man and making proper meals is more important than anything. Instead of going around helping others, you should go home and learn how to cook properly.”
Those words were practically a slap in Meng Yao’s face.
Meng Yao’s expression turned completely ugly.
She never expected her carefully planned “flattering trap” to be shattered in a few sentences—and for her to end up humiliated instead.
The surrounding military wives exchanged looks, barely suppressing their laughter, none daring to speak.
Li Zhihuan looked at the mother-in-law beside her, who wore a “I am not to be trifled with” expression, and couldn’t help but marvel inwardly.
Of course she knew why Lin Fen was helping her.
This mother-in-law had already been completely won over by her cooking skills.
In her eyes, Li Zhihuan was now a precious asset who could produce delicious food. She absolutely could not be overworked or left hungry—what if it affected the quality of the meals?
This was an alliance based purely on “appetite”—extremely practical and realistic.
But regardless, the outcome was good.
“What are you looking at? Get back to work!” Lin Fen felt slightly uncomfortable under her gaze and glared at her.
“Alright.” Li Zhihuan picked up a green bean and slowly began snapping it.
And this scene was fully witnessed by Qi Weiguo, who had returned early from the military unit and was standing at a corner nearby.
He stood there, watching Meng Yao’s embarrassed retreating figure, then looked at the two figures—one large, one small—sitting together under the shade of a tree picking vegetables.
His emotions were unusually complicated.
He was not surprised that Meng Yao would act like that; he had long seen through the little schemes behind that female comrade’s behavior.
What surprised him was his mother.
His mother had actually defended Li Zhihuan in public, openly refuting a girl who had always been known for her “virtue and gentleness.”
He then looked at Li Zhihuan.
She was still as lazy as ever, seemingly indifferent to everything that had just happened.
She just sat quietly there, sunlight filtering through the leaves, scattering mottled light across her body.
Qi Weiguo suddenly felt that Meng Yao’s deliberate and flashy “virtue,” compared to Li Zhihuan’s understated ability to improve the household meals and even make his picky mother stand up for her, seemed so… cheap and fake.
At dinner, he unexpectedly took the initiative to pick up some food for Lin Fen.
Lin Fen was stunned for a moment, then immediately understood her son’s intention and felt a warm satisfaction in her heart.
After dinner, Qi Weiguo returned to his room, but his mind would not settle.
Like a ghostly impulse, he once again thought of Li Zhihuan’s mysterious notebook.
What did those strange scribbles like “supply chain,” “cost efficiency,” and “target audience” mean?
Unable to suppress his curiosity, he slipped into her room while she went to the kitchen to boil water.
The notebook was lying right beside the pillow.
He quickly opened it.
In addition to the incomprehensible terms from before, there were several new pages today.
On them were rough design sketches of clothing styles—some suitable for his mother, others unfamiliar to him. Next to them were notes like “comfortable,” “breathable,” “basic model,” and “can be mass-produced.”
At the end of the designs, there was a diagram he could barely understand, connected by arrows:
“Red Star Textile Factory (fabric)” → “home workshop (me)” → “military compound (first users)” → “word-of-mouth spread” → “expand production?”
The final question mark was circled heavily.
Qi Weiguo’s heart suddenly tightened.
She… what was she planning to do?
She wasn’t just trying to make a couple of clothes for herself.
She was trying to start a business?!
In an era where “speculative trading” could get someone arrested?!
This woman… had she gone mad?!