At 5 a.m., the back mountain was shrouded in a layer of milky-white morning mist.
The fog was thick, carrying the faint fragrance of grass and trees unique to the forest, blurring the trees along the path into faint silhouettes.
Visibility was less than ten meters. The world was so quiet that only occasional bird calls and one’s own breathing could be heard.
Meng Yao stood under a large tree beside the path, feeling the coolness in the air, but her heart was burning hot.
This was the place.
This was the time.
In her previous life, at this exact time, Qi Weiguo would come here to run every morning because he could not stand Li Zhihuan’s unreasonable tantrums. He would run for more than an hour each time.
She had been reborn for over a month.
She had been waiting—enduring.
Using her connections in the cultural troupe, she had quietly gathered information about Qi Weiguo.
She knew that he had been on bad terms with Li Zhihuan recently and even slept in separate rooms.
She also heard the gossip in the compound—how lazy, wasteful, and disgraceful Li Zhihuan was, dragging down the reputation of a war hero like Qi Weiguo.
Everyone believed Qi Weiguo deserved better.
And she, Meng Yao, was that “better.”
Today was the first step of her plan.
She took out a small mirror and checked her appearance one last time.
She had deliberately woken up early to apply a “no-makeup makeup look.”
Her brows were soft and natural, her lips lightly pressed with red paper giving a faint rosy color, and a thin layer of powder made her already fair skin look almost translucent.
She wore a white cotton practice uniform.
It perfectly outlined her slender waist and long legs as a dancer, without appearing overly deliberate.
Pure, delicate, innocent.
This was the persona she had carefully crafted.
She wanted to be like a ray of morning sunlight, shining into Qi Weiguo’s dull and oppressive life, letting him know that women were not all crude and vulgar like Li Zhihuan.
There were also gentle, understanding women like her—“the emotional solace.”
Meng Yao took a deep breath, put away the mirror, and rehearsed her script again in her mind.
When Qi Weiguo appeared, she would step out from behind the tree, pretending to be out for a walk.
Then, as he approached, she would “accidentally” twist her ankle, let out a suppressed cry, and weakly fall toward him.
With Qi Weiguo’s military character, he would never ignore someone in distress.
He would definitely catch her.
At that moment, she would fall into the broad, solid arms she had longed for across two lifetimes.
She would lift a tearful, fragile face and say softly:
“Comrade… thank you… my foot… it hurts so much…”
Physical contact—achieved.
Ambiguous atmosphere—achieved.
A perfect hero-saving-beauty beginning.
This would be the restart of her relationship with Qi Weiguo.
She would use this method to slowly erase Li Zhihuan’s bad impression in his heart—and replace it.
In her previous life, she had lost him because she was too reserved, too passive.
This time, she would not make the same mistake again.
She had even planned the follow-up.
After this “chance encounter,” she would use her injury as an excuse to send him handmade shoe inserts or snacks. Over time, naturally, their relationship would grow closer.
If you swing the hoe well enough, no wall can’t be dug down.
And besides, the relationship between Li Zhihuan and Qi Weiguo wasn’t even a wall—it was already a crumbling ruin!
A confident smile curled on Meng Yao’s lips.
Li Zhihuan, you foolish woman occupying a position that doesn’t belong to you—your good days are over.
At that moment, a steady, powerful set of footsteps came from afar, cutting through the morning mist.
Here he comes!
Meng Yao’s heart jumped violently.
She immediately restrained her expression, switching to a faintly melancholy and confused look, like a lost deer in the forest.
She adjusted her clothes carefully, ensuring every angle was perfect.
The footsteps grew closer.
A tall, upright figure gradually emerged from the mist.
It was him.
Qi Weiguo.
Her heartbeat raced so fast it felt like it would jump out of her throat.
Fifty meters… thirty meters… ten meters…
Now!
Meng Yao stepped out from behind the tree at the perfect moment, twisted her foot deliberately, and her body instantly lost balance.
A soft, practiced cry escaped her lips.
“Ah—”
She closed her eyes, a trace of triumphant anticipation rising in her heart, and fell toward that solid chest.
She could already imagine the next second—strong arms catching her firmly.
However…
The expected embrace did not come.
Instead, in the silent air, a crisp and completely out-of-place sound suddenly rang out.
“Crack!”
Sudden, sharp, and filled with the mundane sounds of human life.
Qi Weiguo’s outstretched hand froze mid-air in reflex. His body also came to an abrupt stop.
His gaze did not fall on the falling Meng Yao, but instead followed the strange crisp sound and suddenly turned toward a nearby patch of bushes.
Because of his sudden hesitation, Meng Yao’s falling posture became extremely awkward.
She had originally intended to gracefully “fall into his arms,” but now she could only flail forward with both hands and feet. She barely avoided landing face-first, but her posture was already utterly disheveled.
She looked up in shock as well, following Qi Weiguo’s gaze.
And then… she saw a scene she would never forget for the rest of her life.
Under the trees shrouded in morning mist, the woman she had assumed would still be lazily sleeping in bed—Li Zhihuan—was squatting there in an old, faded tracksuit, completely unconcerned with anyone around her.
In her hand was a fresh, green, dewy cucumber with little prickles still on it.
The “crack” just now had been the sound of her biting down hard on it.
At that moment, Li Zhihuan’s cheeks were puffed full, chewing with obvious satisfaction.
Her gaze moved back and forth between the disheveled Meng Yao on the ground and the stiff, frozen Qi Weiguo.
In those clear eyes, there was no anger, no jealousy—only pure, unfiltered excitement and curiosity, like that of a front-row VIP spectator watching a live drama unfold.