The moment the work whistle blew, Gu Huaizheng took off at a sprint, not even hearing the people calling out to him.
"Regiment Commander Gu, not heading to the mess hall for dinner today?"
"Not today." Gu Huaizheng was practically bursting with excitement. "My wife's cooking at home!"
His wife had said she'd make him dinner tonight.
In all his born days, he'd finally get to eat a meal cooked by his own wife's hands.
Don't ask—ask, and the answer is happiness.
"It's just a meal cooked by a wife, like the rest of us have never had one before."
"Haha, Regiment Commander Gu really hasn't had one before!"
"Did Regiment Commander Gu get himself a new wife or something? That capitalist's pampered daughter of his—can she even cook?"
Several officers who also lived nearby chatted and laughed as they walked.
Suddenly, they felt water splashing at their feet.
"Look at you grown men, gossiping like a bunch of old hens!" A woman carrying two buckets of water on a shoulder pole glared at them, deliberately splashing water onto their shoes.
"Why do you keep judging people by old impressions? Can't a person learn and improve?"
"This little sister-in-law looks a bit unfamiliar? Who might she be?"
Regiment Commander Liao scratched his head sheepishly. "My wife. She just came from the countryside for military accompaniment. She doesn't know anything yet—don't take it to heart."
"Hmph! You're the ones who know everything, so clever and well-informed!" Jiang Shuying gave a heavy snort and walked off with her water, the pole steady on her shoulder.
Sister Shen said she was cooking tonight—wonder if she'd managed it. She'd go check on her in a bit.
Gu Huaizheng rushed home, breathless, and pushed open the courtyard gate with tremendous anticipation—only to find no wisps of cooking smoke as he'd imagined, and no aroma of food he'd been dreaming of.
Instead, there was only an elegant, beautiful woman, sitting with perfect poise in a rattan chair beneath the grape trellis in the middle of the courtyard.
A book in one hand, a thin-walled white porcelain teacup from Jingdezhen in the other.
Sipping tea while reading.
The setting sun fell upon her long, wavy hair draped casually over her shoulders, casting a glimmer like scattered gold.
How serene and beautiful the moment was.
It felt as though a sky full of stars had suddenly crashed into Gu Huaizheng's heart. He stood there staring, utterly unable to look away.
As if in a dream, he didn't even dare make the slightest sound, afraid of shattering the perfection before him.
But Shen Yitang heard him come back anyway.
She casually glanced up at him from the corner of her eye, lazily setting down her teacup. "You're back? I'm hungry—go fetch some food from the mess hall!"
"Ah, yes, I—I'll go right now…"
To hell with cooking—who said that marrying a wife meant she had to cook?
A fairy like this—even mentioning the word "kitchen" in her presence would be a desecration.
Jiang Shuying passed by on her way back from fetching water, poked her head through the courtyard gate with the two buckets still on her shoulder pole, and called out, "Sister Shen, is dinner ready? Want me to come help?"
Shen Yitang looked up and gave a faint smile. "No need, thank you, Sister Shuying. We're not cooking at home tonight—my husband will fetch food from the mess hall."
Jiang Shuying looked bewildered. "Didn't you say you were cooking tonight? With the weather this hot, raw meat and vegetables can't sit around—they'll go bad by tomorrow."
"If you don't feel like cooking, just bring them over to my place and we'll cook them together and eat together. Why bother going to the mess hall?"
Shen Yitang's expression stiffened slightly, barely maintaining her smile. "No need, Sister. You go on and tend to your business!"
"Alright then, I'll head back first. Still got plenty of chores to do at home!"
Jiang Shuying ambled off with her water, the buckets swaying gently as she went.
Gu Huaizheng: Something about this feels off.
He went into the kitchen and took a look around—the uneasy feeling only grew stronger.
On the surface, everything seemed just as usual, but with the vigilance and meticulousness honed by years of military service, he could tell that something was wrong everywhere he looked.
Gu Huaizheng ran his finger across the stove top, glanced down into the firebox, then lifted the pot lid to peer inside.
He took a careful sniff—the air still carried the lingering smell of heavy smoke and something scorched.
Back in the courtyard, the bamboo clothes-drying pole held the dress Shen Yitang had worn at noon today.
Gu Huaizheng had sharp eyes; in a single glance, he spotted two gray smudges on the hem of the skirt that hadn't been washed clean.
He walked over to her, lifted a strand of hair by her cheek with his fingertip, and twirled it around his finger.
Sure enough, her hair was still damp.
"Washed your hair?" Gu Huaizheng asked.
"Mm."
"I wasn't here to boil water for you. How did you wash it?"
Shen Yitang sounded a bit impatient: "I washed it because I wanted to. It's so hot out—the water warmed up just from sitting in the sun."
She hadn't wanted to wash her hair with cold water either, but she'd gotten black soot all over her face and hair. If she didn't wash it, was she supposed to leave it for him to see when he came back?
Miss Shen, burdened by her pride, would never allow herself to appear disheveled in front of anyone.
And nearly burning down the kitchen just from cooking a meal—such an embarrassing thing, she would never let anyone know about it, not even her husband.
Gu Huaizheng was about to say something more when Shen Yitang shot him a glare, her eyes sweeping over him: "What are you dawdling for? Are you going to get the food or not?"
That single glance made Gu Huaizheng's whole body go weak: "I—I'm going right now!"
He trotted off happily with the lunchbox in hand.
Still, he couldn't help but find it secretly amusing. Well, fine—since she wanted to save face and wouldn't admit it, he wouldn't call her out on it either.
Whether she cooked or not really didn't matter at all.
A girl like her was meant to be kept in a greenhouse, cherished like a delicate flower.
Since he'd brought such a delicate flower home, it was only natural that he put in extra effort to pamper her properly.
Maybe he should learn to cook himself. If she got tired of the mess hall food, he could make her meals instead.
"Oh, Regiment Commander Gu, isn't your wife cooking today? What are you doing here again?"
"Don't tell me your missus refuses to cook for you again?"
"If you ask me, when you take a wife, you can't just look at whether she's pretty or not—the most important thing is that she's a good homemaker. I mean, what are we men slaving away out there for, if not to come home to a hot meal?"
"Hmph!" Gu Huaizheng sneered with disdain. "You bunch of roughnecks—you wouldn't understand how wonderful my wife is."
There was a saying, something about how summer insects don't know what winter cold is like, or something like that. He'd ask his wife about it later.
His wife was educated—she knew everything.
Shen Yitang sat at the dining table and hesitated for a moment before picking up her chopsticks.
She ate slowly, taking her time.
Gu Huaizheng noticed she wasn't reaching for much food and looked a little worried: "What's wrong? Don't you like it?"
"It's too hot out. I don't have much of an appetite," Shen Yitang said lightly.
"Wait a moment." Gu Huaizheng suddenly grasped her right wrist. "Let me see your hand. What happened?"
"I'm fine, let go of me!" Shen Yitang struggled but couldn't break free. Suddenly her eyes reddened, and tears began to fall in a steady stream.
Gu Huaizheng gently pried open her clenched hand. On her fair, slender fingers, the bright red blisters on the pads of her index and middle fingers were especially striking and alarming.