Inside the room.
Wen Jianing stood silently by the window, crouched like a little soldier lying in ambush, secretly observing everything outside.
Living on the second floor had one undeniable advantage—the view.
This room happened to overlook the bathhouse in the distance.
Several hibiscus trees bloomed outside the window, their pinkish-purple flowers in full blossom.
Peering through the gaps between the branches, she watched as women gradually emerged from the bathhouse one after another.
The bathhouse was divided into men’s and women’s sections, separated by a short distance. From the men’s side, she saw teenage boys, soldiers in uniform, and civilian workers shuffling out in slippers, towels slung carelessly over their shoulders as they chatted.
“Looks like quite a few soldiers live in the family compound too,” she murmured to herself before shifting her attention back to the women’s bathhouse.
Some of the women walked out with their damp hair hanging loose, combing it back with their fingers as they walked. Others simply stood where the evening breeze was strongest, tilting their heads back to let the wind dry their hair.
Wen Jianing withdrew her gaze.
As if I’d use this northwestern wind full of sand to dry my hair. If she washed it clean only to have it coated with dust again, wouldn’t the whole bath be pointless?
Gradually, darkness settled over the compound, and the voices outside grew fewer and farther between.
By the time night had fully fallen, no one was going in or out of the bathhouse anymore.
Everything became quiet, so quiet that even the chirping of insects sounded unusually clear.
Only then did a small figure dart into the bathhouse under the cover of darkness.
Unlike the bustling scene from earlier, the place was now silent. Even the sound of dripping water echoed distinctly against the empty walls, making her own breathing seem unnaturally loud.
Feeling like a thief sneaking into forbidden territory, Wen Jianing’s heart pounded as she hurriedly undressed.
The entire bath lasted barely ten minutes.
Not because she was quick—back home in Shanghai, one bath easily lasted an hour.
But the water from the showerhead grew colder and colder until it was practically ice-cold.
Unable to bear it any longer, she hurriedly dried herself, pulled her clothes back on while shivering violently, and even sneezed twice.
The moment she stepped outside, she finally realized just how bitterly cold the night had become.
Her damp hair clung to her scalp, and her clothes still held traces of moisture.
A gust of icy wind hit her head-on, making her teeth chatter uncontrollably as she shivered from head to toe.
It was scorching during the day… How did it become a completely different season after sunset?
Hunching her shoulders, she quickened her pace toward home.
Just as she rounded a corner, voices drifted toward her.
“…Did you all see her earlier?” a woman with a particularly loud voice said. “Honestly. She walked into the bathhouse and wouldn’t even take off her clothes. Then she suddenly claimed she’d forgotten something and had to go back. Who was she fooling? Anyone with eyes could tell it was just an excuse. I’d say she’s too used to being some rich young miss, looking down on ordinary folks like us. She probably thinks bathing with us common people is beneath her.”
“Cui-jie, maybe don’t be so harsh,” another woman said gently. “She’s still young, and it’s her first time here. Maybe she was just embarrassed.”
“‘Embarrassed?'” Jiang Xiaocui scoffed. “Please. She’s already married. She’s not some untouched maiden anymore. What’s there to be embarrassed about? Don’t tell me her own husband hasn’t already seen and touched every inch of her.”
The crude remark made someone beside her give her a light shove.
Jiang Xiaocui didn’t care in the slightest and continued,
“If you ask me, Commander Song’s wife can’t compare to the one from the performing arts troupe.”
“You mean Shen Manli?”
“Exactly.” Jiang Xiaocui immediately perked up. “She’s Commander Song’s stepfather’s daughter. She and Commander Song are the real childhood sweethearts—they’re the perfect match. And she’s so pleasant. She’s always smiling at everyone. The last time she saw me, she called out ‘Sister-in-law!’ from halfway across the courtyard. But look at this one. She acts like everyone owes her a fortune. Always wearing a cold face, refusing to acknowledge anyone. Sister Gu has been nothing but kind to her, and she doesn’t even appreciate it. What’s that called? Arrogant. Looking down on everyone. Those are exactly the bad habits rich capitalist families raise.”
Wen Jianing stopped in her tracks.
Without making a sound, she retreated into the shadows behind the wall.
The old yellow lamp under the corridor cast only a dim pool of light on the ground.
The women were chatting away so animatedly that none of them noticed someone had been standing there, listening.