After finally using the restroom, Wen Jianing looked noticeably more relaxed. The tension that had been etched across her face had eased.
Song Tingyue took her to the mess hall.
It was probably the first time in her life that Wen Jianing had found herself surrounded by so many men.
There were a handful of female performers and military wives scattered among the crowd, but the imbalance between men and women was impossible to ignore.
No wonder they had to organize matchmaking events, she thought. There simply weren’t enough women.
Some of the soldiers had just come back from training. They had stripped down to white undershirts, steam practically rising from their bodies. Sweat soaked through the thin fabric, leaving the rugged contours of their muscles completely visible.
From a distance, they looked little different from being shirtless.
Wen Jianing suddenly felt as though she had wandered into a world that belonged entirely to men.
Heat rushed to her cheeks.
Even the air around her seemed thicker.
She couldn’t shake the feeling that countless eyes kept drifting toward her.
Some were curious.
Some were openly sizing her up.
Most of them made no attempt to hide their admiration.
It made her unbearably self-conscious.
She had grown up among Shanghai’s wealthy elite. The people she knew came from prosperous families who valued education and refinement. They carried themselves with elegance, and no one would ever stare so blatantly at another person.
Nothing like this.
Here, people looked openly, as though trying to see straight through her.
Without thinking, she quickened her pace to stay close behind Song Tingyue.
The closer she was to him…
…the safer she felt.
Her hand lifted instinctively, reaching for his arm.
Some habits were so deeply ingrained that even years apart couldn’t erase them.
When she was little, her favorite thing had been clinging to his arm and swinging from it.
Even as a teenager, Song Tingyue had towered over boys his own age. She could wrap both arms around his elbow like a little monkey climbing a tree while he effortlessly lifted her completely off the ground.
Whenever her grip slipped, she’d shriek,
“Brother! Brother! I’m going to fall!”
He had never once let her fall.
Which was why, whenever she felt frightened, her first instinct was still to reach for him.
His arm had always been her safest refuge.
Memories flooded back.
Countless stormy nights when thunder crashed outside…
She would run barefoot through the dark, feet pattering across the floor as she dashed into his room, trembling with fear before throwing herself into his arms.
Only by hugging him tightly could she finally fall asleep.
Like a clap of thunder, reality jolted her back.
Her fingertips stopped barely an inch away from his sleeve.
She abruptly withdrew her hand, lowering her eyes.
Wen Jianing! What are you doing?
She scolded herself fiercely.
His reply to her parents’ letter had made it perfectly clear.
He was taking her in only to repay the Wen family for raising him.
Song Tingyue noticed the tiny movement.
For some reason, irritation flared inside him.
He glanced down at his training uniform.
His sleeve had gotten dusty during drills, and he’d even folded the dirty part inward so it wouldn’t show.
It wasn’t dirty.
Not at all.
Then what is this little brat finding fault with now?
His expression darkened.
Just then, a young soldier happened to be walking toward them.
Without hesitation, Song Tingyue reached out and stopped him.
The soldier was a fresh recruit.
He’d long since heard the veterans talking about Commander Song.
Everyone said the commander was ruthless when training troops.
He was a man who had fought real battles with live ammunition.
Forget ordinary people—
Even ghosts would take the long way around him.
Rumor had it that during recruit training, several troublemakers had challenged him to a spar.
Commander Song had simply told them to come at him together.
Within moments, he’d flattened every last one of them.
The recruits spent three days recovering in the infirmary before they could even get out of bed.
Among all the new soldiers…
The one name no one dared provoke was Song Tingyue.
“Commander Song, awaiting orders!”
The recruit snapped to attention and saluted crisply.
Even so, his eyes couldn’t help sneaking a glance toward the young woman standing beside him.
Her skin was so fair it resembled a freshly peeled egg.
She looked delicate.
Tiny.
As though a strong gust of wind might knock her over.
Everyone on base was secretly saying she’d just arrived to join Commander Song as his wife.
The recruit looked back at Song Tingyue.
Tall.
Broad.
Powerfully built.
The man radiated raw strength.
Even grown men found him intimidating.
How could someone as delicate as her possibly handle him…?
His imagination was running wild—
Smack!
A heavy slap landed squarely on the back of his head.
“Where are your eyes wandering?”
Song Tingyue barked coldly.
“You think wearing nothing but a damn undershirt into the mess hall is acceptable?”
“Did everything you’ve learned about military appearance and discipline go to the dogs?”
“Get out to the parade ground and run ten laps.”
“And every other brat who came in wearing a tank top—write every one of their names down.”
“They’re all getting punished.”
“T-Ten laps…?”
The recruit nearly burst into tears.
The afternoon sun was blazing overhead.
The ground looked hot enough to smoke.
Commander Song was always strict during training and missions, but he’d never made such a fuss over something this trivial.
Hell, after training, he’d sometimes strip down to his own undershirt when it got too hot.
There wasn’t an inspection today.
No senior officers were visiting.
What had gotten into him?
Why was he acting like he’d swallowed a stick of dynamite?
“Make it fifteen.”
Song Tingyue didn’t leave even the slightest room for negotiation.
The recruit stiffened instantly.
“Yes, sir!”
After that little episode, Wen Jianing noticed something.
All those lingering gazes that had been following her…
Disappeared.
Completely.
In fact, everyone now seemed to be deliberately avoiding looking in her direction.
Strictly speaking…
They were avoiding the terrifying man standing beside her.
No one wanted to give Commander Song an excuse to single them out.
Wen Jianing lowered her head and quietly picked at the rice in her lunch tin.
There were only two dishes.
Scrambled eggs with tomatoes.
Braised potatoes with pork.
The meat had clearly been served generously because Song Tingyue had gotten the food.
Still…
She absentmindedly pushed it around without much appetite.
Thunk.
She looked up.
A military-issued canteen had appeared in front of her.
Song Tingyue had returned to his seat without her noticing.
He had a pair of chopsticks hanging carelessly from the corner of his mouth while holding his aluminum lunch box in one hand, looking as rough and unconcerned as ever.
“I washed the canteen,” he said casually.
“Drink some water.”
“I’ve got to hand it to you.”
“You held your pee so long you wouldn’t even drink.”
He buried his head in his meal again, completely oblivious to the fact that his blunt—bordering on crude—remark had turned Wen Jianing’s face the color of a ripe tomato.
Not only had he figured out she’d avoided drinking water…
He’d announced it out loud.
How could anyone say something like that?
Taking advantage of the moment while she tipped her head back to drink, Wen Jianing secretly peeked at him.
His close-cropped hair looked clean and neat.
His table manners, however…
Could hardly be called refined.
He shoveled food into his mouth in huge bites.
Every movement of his jaw accentuated the sharp line of his jawbone.
His legs were spread casually beneath the table, one heavy military boot practically reaching underneath her chair.
Why…
Why is my heart beating faster and faster?
Even faster than it had during that innocent first crush years ago.
“What are you staring at?”
“Eat.”
Song Tingyue never even looked up.
Startled, Wen Jianing inhaled a mouthful of water.
“Cough—! Cough! Cough!”
She coughed violently.
Her face turned crimson.
Her delicate shoulders shook, making her long braided pigtails bounce with every cough.
Before Song Tingyue had even swallowed the food in his own mouth, he kicked his chair aside and was beside her in an instant.
His large hand landed on her back, patting and rubbing firmly.
The first pat was too hard.
She lurched forward from the force.
His reflexes were lightning fast.
He immediately thrust one arm across the edge of the table to stop her from hitting it.
After that, he no longer dared use much strength.
She was simply too small.
As his hand gently rubbed down her back, it reached her waist.
It was so slender…
He had the absurd feeling that both his hands together could wrap all the way around it.
“You choke on water?”
“What are you, three years old?”
“All these years and the only thing that’s grown is your height?”
Once she’d finally caught her breath, Wen Jianing hurriedly wiped the water from the corner of her mouth.
She ignored his gruff scolding entirely.
She was convinced that first smack had been revenge.
Seeing that she’d stopped coughing, Song Tingyue returned to his seat and resumed eating.
Without looking up, he added,
“Don’t waste food.”
“Finish everything in that lunch box.”
“If you don’t…”
“You can go run laps with the rest of them.”
“Understood?”
Wen Jianing: !?
He definitely did that on purpose!
Repaying kindness?
More like tricking me into coming here just so he could get even!
Annoyed as she was…
Angry as she was…
She still answered obediently,
“…Understood, Brother.”
Her voice was tiny.
Soft.
Sweet.
Floating gently across the narrow table between them.
It sounded unfamiliar…
Yet at the same time carried an intimacy he hadn’t heard in years.
Song Tingyue’s fingers tightened around his chopsticks.
He didn’t say another word.