Lin Yuqiu stepped into the room, her eyes scanning the space.
The floor was laid with polished redwood planks, shining under the warm yellow-white light. On the white wall, a portrait of Chairman Mao stood out vividly, flanked on either side by large red “double happiness” characters, reflecting against glass frames containing military medals.
Against the wall stood a solid wood double bed, covered with bright red cotton sheets. On the pillows lay a pair of red “double happiness” cushions, instantly making her cheeks flush.
As she took a step toward the bed, the man behind her radiated such a strong presence that she felt like a rabbit whose tail had been pinched. She hastened her pace and moved toward the desk by the window.
The desk was topped with a sheet of transparent glass.
Beneath the glass lay several black-and-white photographs all scenes from the military.
Her fingers traced over the young faces one by one, her heart tightening with each glance, until she came across one familiar face.
Her eldest brother, who had sacrificed himself, stood in military uniform among a group of comrades. Clear-eyed and upright, his presence stood out unmistakably in the crowd.
Her eyes instantly reddened.
Tears welled up, but stubbornly, she tilted her head back, refusing to let them fall. She didn’t want the man behind her to see her vulnerability.
Her throat felt clogged with cotton, stifling and sore.
In the man’s eyes, at that moment, she stood at the desk, shoulders taut, yet trembling slightly despite herself. She looked like a fledgling bird beaten by wind and rain, crouched alone silent, motionless yet the fragility radiating from her bones struck him more clearly than any sob could.
He stepped forward quietly, almost without a sound, standing behind her.
His broad shoulders, like a silent mountain, cast her fully into their shadow.
Lin Yuqiu’s body stiffened, her breath momentarily forgotten.
She looked at the man’s tall figure, the silhouette stretched under the dim light.
The dull ache in her chest seemed to find a harbor for all her vulnerability, strangely soothed.
She composed herself and slowly turned to face him, leaning on the desk, but instinctively lowered her head when her eyes met his chest.
Her voice carried a faint, almost imperceptible tremor, laced with cautious curiosity:
“You… you were close to my brother, weren’t you?”
“I’ve never heard you mention it,” he replied.
She paused, then finally asked the question buried deep in her heart, her voice lighter, tinged with confusion:
“What kind of debt or favor… would make you willing to marry me?”
The man hadn’t expected her to ask so directly. He paused slightly, a flicker of distraction passing over his face.
But it vanished in an instant. His expression returned to its usual cold, sharp demeanor.
In those fathomless eyes, a flash of complex emotion passed reverence for a fallen comrade, and something deep and unreadable.
“Your brother owed me a debt. The details don’t need to be explained.
“You just need to know that my marrying you is a true wish to protect you for your whole life. Is that enough?”
As he spoke, he didn’t step back; instead, he leaned slightly, locking his gaze on hers.
Lin Yuqiu looked into his sincere eyes. A warm current spread through her chest, and uncontrollable joy surged in her heart.
Yet when he leaned closer, her eyes fixed on his thin lips, her heart skipped, tightening abruptly. A shy, stifled scream lodged in her throat. Reflexively, she spun around.
“This photo… where are you?”
She changed the subject, pointing to a photo filled with youthful faces, unable to spot him at first.
Before she finished speaking, the man stepped closer.
He said nothing, simply moved near her back, his broad chest almost touching her spine.
For an instant, Lin Yuqiu felt her entire body freeze.
The strange sense of protection hadn’t faded, only to be completely enveloped by the man’s uniquely assertive presence.
Her heart tightened sharply, a spasm of fluttering mixed with the weight of his pressing closeness.
Even her breath seemed to stop, leaving only the sound of her heartbeat and the warmth of his breath brushing her neck.
Then, a large hand, calloused at the fingertips, firmly grasped hers and pointed to the photo beneath the glass.
She held her breath. When he slowly released her hand, the suffocating pressure eased slightly.
Looking down at the photo he indicated, the boy in it was very young about sixteen or seventeen but his eyebrows and eyes already carried the sharpness of youth.
That boyish innocence struck her immediately.
Looking up, the man’s mature, cold features created a stark contrast with the young boy in the photo.
The two images interwove in her mind, producing a subtle thrill.
Through this photo, she seemed to glimpse the years from his youth to maturity those unknowable times.
No wonder a girl as lovely as Li Shiyun had once loved him so deeply.
Lin Yuqiu’s gaze drifted across the glass desk and caught a photo tucked in the corner.
It was a yellowed old photo: a chubby toddler with a bare bottom, clad in an oversized little military uniform and a crooked cap.
The round face bore a faint smile, but the slightly raised head revealed the cool, spirited child he had always been.
Even in her emotional state, Lin Yuqiu couldn’t help but smile faintly, delicate and lively.
She didn’t notice the man had turned and retrieved a matte black Dongfeng camera from the drawer.
He held the camera and aimed it at her standing by the desk.
Under the warm yellow light, her hair fell over half her face, revealing only the side profile of her faint smile.
Pure and gentle, like a lotus emerging from water.
His gaze lingered from her deep red dress to the large red “double happiness” character on the wall. A softness blossomed in his eyes.
His finger pressed the shutter.
“Click.”
The crisp sound echoed sharply in the quiet room.
Lin Yuqiu spun around.
The man still held the camera, standing casually with one leg slightly bent, expressionless, lips curved faintly.
Lin Yuqiu bit her lip, her cheeks flushed, even her ears turning pink: “What did you take?”
She leaned in: “I want to see.”
But the man swiftly held the camera close, guarding it like a precious treasure.
His voice was low, firm, and unyielding, carrying a trace of possessiveness he didn’t even realize:
“No.”
He paused, eyes on her reddened, shy face. With a mischievous glint, he added meaningfully: “It’s mine.”
Lin Yuqiu couldn’t snatch it back, so she relented.
She pouted slightly, feigning anger, and turned away, voice tinged with mild grievance:
“Fine, I won’t look. I’m going to sleep. You can leave.”
At that, the faint curve of the man’s lips visibly tightened, his gaze locked on her. The depth of that look sparked tiny fireworks in her heart.
She squirmed under his gaze, clearing her throat and feigning casualness as she shifted the topic, her voice small and tinged with rapid heartbeat:
“Um… where’s my clothes?”
Only then did the man divert his eyes, leaving the room with steady, swift steps.
Soon, he returned with a military cloth bag containing the clothes she had worn while staying at the guesthouse.
Lin Yuqiu retrieved her pajamas, glanced at the bare room, then at the man. Embarrassment tinged with a subtle plea appeared on her face.
He understood her gaze and led her out of the room to the second-floor bathroom.
The bathroom was simple but clean, the air scented faintly with soap.
On the sink were only his toiletries, showing that the second-floor bathroom was exclusively his.
Lin Yuqiu studied his toothbrush and all his male grooming items, still unaccustomed to the discomfort of intruding into someone else’s private space.
On the rack lay a brand-new toothbrush and toothpaste set, along with a Shanghai-brand sandalwood soap.
She couldn’t resist picking up the soap and smelling it; the familiar scent made her ears flush.
Two fresh towels hung on the rack one military green, one white.
All prepared for her.
Lin Yuqiu changed into her pajamas.
Her sleepwear was a white cotton long-sleeve top and pants, soft and loose.
It faintly outlined her slender waist, small hips, and long legs, like a thin veil concealing her curves.
After washing up, she wanted a bath. Glancing at the bathroom, there was only a white-tiled bathtub—no convenient shower.
However, in the corner was a large wooden tub, coated with tung oil, looking practically new.
Not wanting to trouble Zhou Runqing, she hesitated. Just then, a knock sounded at the door.