She had intended to force a kiss, but the man was simply too tall. Even on tiptoe, she couldn’t reach his lips and only managed to brush against the stubble on his chin.
Gu Huai’an looked down at the person clinging to him, his palm resting against the small of her back. “It seems you really don’t value your life.”
Shen Yu pouted. “Once I step through this door today, I don’t plan on leaving.”
“You’re quite optimistic,” Gu Huai’an sneered. “Aren’t you afraid I’ll sell you off?”
“Being sold is still better than being taken advantage of by that good-for-nothing Erliuzi. Besides, you don’t look like someone short on money, commanding officer.”
A different thought began to stir in Gu Huai’an’s mind.
His family had been pressuring him relentlessly to marry, each time having the political commissar foist delicate cultural troupe actresses on him—women who’d burst into tears if you raised your voice. If he took one of them to the border Garrison, she’d be demanding to go home within three days.
The one before him was troublesome, yes, but she was undeniably wild. She dared to slap someone with her shoe sole, dared to block a military vehicle, and dared to barge straight into his room just to find a protector.
At the very least, taking her out would command respect and not embarrass him.
“Have you thought this through?” he asked. “I’m not a man of gentle temper, and I won’t be offering you an easy life.”
Shen Yu clung to his neck without letting go. “As long as you don’t beat your wife and give me food to eat, I’ll manage however I must.”
Gu Huai’an had only meant to scare her, but this woman clearly didn’t care.
He was a normal man, with a soft, fragrant woman in his arms. If he didn’t push her away soon, things would get out of hand.
“Fuck.”
Gu Huai’an cursed under his breath and peeled her off him.
He reached out, pulled open a drawer, rummaged through it, and slapped a stack of letter paper and a fountain pen heavily onto the table.
“Can you read and write?”
Shen Yu nodded.
“Write.”
“Write what?” Shen Yu picked up the pen.
“A marriage report.”
Gu Huai’an glared at her. “How are we supposed to get a marriage certificate without a report? Unmarried cohabitation is a crime of indecency. Do you want me stripped of my uniform?”
Shen Yu blinked, then burst out laughing.
“At a time like this, you’re still thinking about filing a report? I thought we’d just…”
“One more word and I’ll throw you out.”
Shen Yu said “Oh,” then asked, “So how should I write the reason?”
Gu Huai’an lit a cigarette and leaned against the table. “Just write: introduced by others, marriage by mutual consent. State your own circumstances clearly, and press your fingerprint when you’re done. I’ll submit it before morning drills tomorrow.”
Shen Yu stopped her banter and lowered her head to write quickly on the paper.
As she wrote, she pushed her luck further: “So where am I sleeping tonight?”
Gu Huai’an turned and pointed at the bed.
“You take the bed.”
“What about you?”
“Since when do you get to decide where I sleep?” Gu Huai’an’s patience was truly wearing thin. “Hurry up and write.”
Before long, Shen Yu stopped writing. “Finished.”
Gu Huai’an stubbed out his cigarette and walked over. He picked up the paper and scanned it—the handwriting was neat and elegant, not what you’d expect from a country girl who’d seen nothing of the world.
He added his own name beside hers, then pulled a box of ink paste from the drawer and opened it.
“Press your fingerprint.”
Two thumbs pressed side by side into the red paste, then onto the paper.
Gu Huai’an examined the fingerprints, folded the paper, and tucked it into his inner pocket.
“Alright, time to sleep.”
He pulled the light cord. In the darkness, Shen Yu groped her way onto the hard bed.
The quilt carried the scent of sun-drying, which was rather pleasant.
Shen Yu felt slightly reassured.
A rustling sound followed as Gu Huai’an pulled out a military overcoat, casually spread it on the floor, and lay down.
The match struck, a fleeting spark illuminating the man's brow ridge and high-bridged nose.
The cigarette's red ember glowed and dimmed.
Gu Huai'an asked, "Who else is in your family?"
Shen Yu rolled over, lying on her side to watch the red dot on the floor.
This man seemed rough around the edges, but after all, he was a military commander. Bringing an unclear woman into the family quarters, he wouldn't skip any necessary background checks.
"Nobody. My father was also a soldier, stationed down south. During the '63 floods, he went to plug a breach and was swept away by the water. They said they couldn't even find his body."
The cigarette ember paused in the air for a moment.
Shen Yu continued, following the original host's memories: "My mother was soft-natured. Hearing the news shocked her, and within two months, she closed her eyes and followed him. I grew up relying on the kindness of others, and later I was sent down to the Xiangyang Brigade."
Gu Huai'an didn't speak.
He had seen too much life and death on the front lines before, knowing what the word "sacrifice" meant to those left behind.
An orphaned mother and child, surviving wasn't easy.
No wonder she had a fierce temper.
With no one to protect her, if she didn't stand up for herself, with that disaster-attracting face of hers, she would have been devoured skin and bones long ago.
"If my father were alive today, he'd definitely be your superior."
Shen Yu added, "So if you treat me badly, I'll go burn paper money for my dad and complain about you, asking him to come talk to you at night."
Gu Huai'an snorted, stubbing out his cigarette: "Sleep properly. I don't bully orphans."
The room fell silent again.
Shen Yu couldn't sleep.
She lay quietly for a while, then suddenly sat up.
Gu Huai'an's voice came from the floor: "What now?"
"No, it's just…" Shen Yu felt awkward. "I didn't get a chance to ask earlier. What's your name?"
"Gu Huai'an. Huai as in the Huai River, An as in peace." The man's tone was impatient. "Ask again and I'll sew your mouth shut."
Shen Yu was startled.
Gu Huai'an?
She vaguely remembered an extremely tragic supporting character in the book—a legendary figure in the military district. Later, during a border mission, he stepped on a mine to cover new recruits, lost a leg, had to transfer to civilian work, and eventually died in depression.
Squinting, Shen Yu examined the dark shadow lying on the floor.
The man had a tall, slender build, one leg stretched straight out, the other bent.
He looked… intact.
"So, um," Shen Yu tentatively asked, "Are your arms and legs… all right?"
"Don't you have eyes?"
He moved his leg, his military boot knocking against the floor. "Want me to kick you a couple of times to test it out? See if it's strong enough?"
Hearing the solid thud, Shen Yu smacked her lips.
Good, it sounded strong.
Shen Yu lay back on the pillow.
It seemed the timeline hadn't reached that point yet.
Since she had run into him, she needed to think of a way. After all, this was the meal ticket she had just latched onto. If he ended up disabled, who would back her up later?
"I was just making sure you weren't all show and no substance. Going to sleep now."
"…"
A cold snort came from the floor, followed by silence.
Early the next morning, the bugle call sounded.
Shen Yu jolted awake, nearly rolling off the bed.
Rubbing her eyes, she sat up. The room was bright and empty.
If not for the inkpad box still on the table, she would have thought last night was a dream.
The door opened, and Gu Huai'an walked in carrying an aluminum lunchbox. He was wearing training clothes, his collar and back damp with sweat, clearly having finished morning drills.
"Awake?" Gu Huai'an placed the lunchbox on the table with a thud. "Were you a pig in your past life? Even the bugle call couldn't wake you up."
Shen Yu: "I slept late last night. Not my fault."
"Two more minutes and I would've yanked your blanket right off."
"Did you submit the report?" That was all Shen Yu cared about.
Gu Huai'an glanced at her, pulled a cigarette pack from his pocket, thought better of it, and stuffed it back in.
"Submitted."
Shen Yu breathed a sigh of relief. This time, it was secure.