It was an auditing pass for Haicheng Medical University.
Next to it was a wooden box. Opening it revealed a pair of jade bracelets.
Qiao Yuewei’s eyes widened in surprise. How did Qin Xingye know? She ran to the living room with the pass in hand:
“Qin Xingye, how did you know I’m interested in medicine?”
Ever since she was a child, Qiao Yuewei had aspired to become a doctor. She had seen her grandfather’s face pale and tormented by illness, and her mother had passed away young, also from disease.
Before transmigrating, she had only learned a bit, barely scratching the surface. To become a competent doctor required at least seven or eight years of systematic study.
She had thought she wouldn’t have a chance to continue her education—but Qin Xingye had given her an enormous surprise.
“Eight years ago, on your birthday, I visited the Qiao family. I heard you make a wish.”
Qiao Yuewei pouted, eyes reddening. She only showed this side to people she was close to.
“Thank you, Qin Xingye. I really like it.”
“When the time comes to attend classes at Haicheng Medical University, I’ll pick you up and drop you off. If I’m not around, Xiao Lu will take you.”
“That’s not necessary. Do you have an extra car? I can drive myself too.”
Without hesitation, Qin Xingye said, “No.”
Qiao Yuewei felt a little disappointed. “Alright then.”
She had thought she might get to drive a military jeep.
As she turned, Qin Xingye quietly exhaled and went back to cooking.
Qiao Yuewei put the auditing pass away and slipped into her space. A thought flashed through her mind, and when she opened her eyes again, she was in a laboratory—filled not only with experimental tools but also with books and documents.
She picked up one and flipped through it—it was a traditional Chinese medicine text.
Besides TCM books, there were also Western medicine texts, even some out-of-print books she had only heard of before.
This wasn’t just a space—it was a wishing pool.
Qiao Yuewei smiled as she left the space, looking forward to her future studies at Haicheng Medical University.
Qin Xingye was also fast—within three hours, he prepared over ten dishes: some spicy, some not, some sour, sweet, and salty. The soup, in particular, smelled delicious.
By 5:30 p.m.:
“小秦.”
Old Jiang came in carrying several bottles of alcohol, followed by He Qiurong with Tuan Tuan and Yuanyuan. Tuan Tuan carried a bag.
“Old Zhao!”
“Old Jiang!”
Old Jiang, the regiment commander, met Commissar Zhao at the door.
“Red Plum Sister.”
“Qiu Rong, little sister.”
He Qiurong and Zhao’s partner, Wang Hongmei, greeted each other with smiles.
Wang Hongmei had brought their seven-year-old daughter Zhao Yuqin. The elder son was studying in junior high in Haicheng, living at his grandmother’s house.
“Congratulations, Xiao Qin, Weiwei.”
“Weiwei, let me introduce you—this is Red Plum Sister, Commissar Zhao’s partner and our company’s Women’s Affairs director!”
He Qiurong took Qiao Yuewei’s hand and introduced Wang Hongmei.
Wang Hongmei sized up Qiao Yuewei, and Qiao Yuewei returned the look.
Wang Hongmei had a short bob haircut, was slightly older than He Qiurong, with a few wrinkles at the corners of her eyes.
“So this is Xiao Qin’s wife. Hmm, truly lovely!” Wang Hongmei took Qiao Yuewei’s hand with a kind gaze.
“Hello, Red Plum Sister,” Qiao Yuewei said confidently, letting her hold her hand.
“This is Old Jiang, and that’s Commissar Zhao.”
“Hello, Commander Old Jiang. Hello, Commissar Zhao.”
“Xiao Qin, finally, you have a wife to manage you! Comrade Qiao, make sure to keep him in line.”
“Yes, Commander Old Jiang!” Qiao Yuewei saluted.
“Yes, Commander!” Yuanyuan followed with a not-so-perfect salute.
“Hahaha! You boy,” Old Jiang pointed at his son.
The tables and benches were arranged. Qiao Yuewei and Qin Xingye sat on one side, He Qiurong and Old Jiang on another, and Commissar Zhao and Wang Hongmei on the last.
The three children sat together, with non-spicy dishes in front of them.
“This must be Xiao Qin’s cooking. I can tell by the aroma,” Old Jiang said, waving his hand and sniffing.
Qin Xingye poured wine for them and a drink for Qiao Yuewei and the children.
Old Jiang took a gulp of wine, his face flushed. “Xiao Qiao, Xiao Qin may be cold by nature, but he’s a man who truly loves his wife. What do you say about his cooking?”
Qiao Yuewei blushed. “It looks good and smells wonderful.”
“Don’t worry, he’s not the type with bad habits. That Fang Guihua? I’ll handle her myself!”
He Qiurong pinched Old Jiang’s waist in exasperation. This man always got silly when drunk, bringing up the wrong topics at the worst times!
“Hey, wife, why are you pinching me?” Old Jiang yelped.
He Qiurong gave him a glare and lifted her cup. “Xiao Qin, Weiwei, sister-in-law wishes you a happy wedding, a lifetime of harmony, and many children!”
“Yes, Xiao Qin, Xiao Qiao, now that you’re married, Old Zhao and I can rest easy. May your marriage be full of love and happiness.”
Old Jiang patted his mouth in delight.
Tuan Tuan, Yuanyuan, and little Yuqin covered their mouths, laughing.
“Thanks, sister-in-law. I don’t drink alcohol, so I’ll use juice instead.”
“Thanks, sister-in-law,” Qin Xingye said, lifting his glass.
“Xiao Qin, let me give you a tip: if you want life to be happy, listen to your wife.”
Commissar Zhao smiled. “Old Jiang is right. A harmonious home brings prosperity…”
Zhao cited quotes and references at length, to the point that his partner Wang Hongmei couldn’t listen anymore.
“All right, that’s enough. Stop showing off.”
Old Zhao complained, “You see, you find me annoying. But I’ll listen to my wife. That’s enough, enough.”
Wang Hongmei glanced at him, face showing mock annoyance but eyes smiling.
By the end of the meal, the wine Old Jiang brought had been finished by the three men.
“My younger brother got married—this makes me happy!” Old Jiang clapped Qin Xingye on the back, calling him “younger brother” with each clap.
Finally, He Qiurong pulled him back, and Wang Hongmei dragged away Commissar Zhao.
The two sisters-in-law had originally planned to tidy up before leaving, but their men had already bumped into the walls in their drunken state.
Back home, seeing Old Jiang sprawled on the bed, He Qiurong pinched his arm. “Why drink so much? It’s fine if you’re drunk, but why get Xiao Qin drunk too? Tonight is his wedding night!”
Looking at the mess on the table, with the weather warming up, it had to be cleaned or everything would mix smells by the next day. Qiao Yuewei rolled up her sleeves, about to clean, but her wrist was grabbed.
“Qiao Qiao, I’ll handle it.”
A whiff of alcohol came from him. Qiao Yuewei turned: “Aren’t you drunk?”
Qin Xingye shook his head. “Not drunk.”
He guided Qiao Yuewei to sit on the sofa and started clearing the table.
He worked carefully and methodically, cleaning the surface, placing dishes and bowls in the kitchen sink, washing them with running water.
After cleaning, he dried everything with a clean cloth and put it neatly away.
Qiao Yuewei stood at the kitchen doorway, watching him.
Even though Qin Xingye had drunk quite a bit, it didn’t show—his face was calm as usual.
Once finished, he slowly walked toward Qiao Yuewei, and she felt a weight on her back.