Su Hongxia’s crisp, innocent, and curious voice instantly set Lu Huaizhou’s tightly wound nerves ablaze.
His cheeks felt like they were on fire, a heat rushing up from his neck to the top of his head.
He had lived twenty-seven years, executed countless near-death missions, faced countless ruthless enemies—but never had he been so utterly embarrassed.
“Shut up!” Lu Huaizhou almost spat the words through clenched teeth. He grabbed his nearby uniform jacket to cover himself and, in a near-panicked scramble, held onto the bedframe with one hand and snatched his crutch with the other, practically leaping into the small bathroom adjacent to the east room.
“Bang!” The door slammed shut.
Su Hongxia blinked, looked at the firmly closed door, and rubbed her growling stomach.
Of course she knew what that was about. In her previous life, as a head chef in national banquet kitchens, she had heard every sort of risqué story. She just hadn’t expected this cold, seemingly icy man to react like a pure, innocent young boy.
Well, a little sensitivity makes teasing more fun later.
She stretched, a satisfying crisp sound resonating through her bones.
She had slept deeply last night. The bedboard was hard, but having a warm body beside her made the cool early-autumn night feel cozy.
Lu Huaizhou stayed in the bathroom for a good half-hour.
When he finally emerged, he had regained his usual cold composure, though the redness in his ear tips betrayed him.
He changed into a clean uniform, his hair perfectly combed, and without a glance at Su Hongxia, walked into the courtyard, starting pull-ups on the horizontal bar.
Su Hongxia didn’t disturb him, washing up quietly before heading to the kitchen.
Today, Lu Huaizhou was going to the military hospital for a leg check-up, and the guard Xiao Zhang would come to pick him up.
She had to prepare breakfast before he left, and also get her own lunch ready.
They didn’t have much white flour left at home, but enough to make buns.
The fat from yesterday had been rendered into lard, leaving crispy golden crumbs. She chopped them up, mixed with the cabbage she bought yesterday, added salt and her own spice powder, creating a top-quality filling.
Kneading the dough, rolling it, stuffing the buns—Su Hongxia’s movements were fluid and fast, leaving afterimages.
One by one, the plump, evenly folded buns formed under her hands, neatly stacked in the steamer.
Lu Huaizhou worked out in the courtyard, sweat dripping down his defined jawline onto his solid chest.
He appeared focused, but his peripheral vision never left the busy figure in the kitchen.
Could she really just be a fool?
The thought surfaced again, unstoppable.
A fool who could make spring noodles and Nine-Turn Intestines like that?
With skills as proficient as a master chef?
Who could also impressively leave finger marks on the top bunk’s iron pipe with one hand?
Lu Huaizhou’s mind was a tangle of contradictions.
“Xiao Zhang’s here,” he said in a low voice, breaking his own train of thought.
A jeep stopped at the courtyard gate. Xiao Zhang jumped down and saluted. “Commander, the car is ready.”
Su Hongxia carried two steaming plates of buns out of the kitchen. The rich aroma of meat and flour immediately filled the courtyard.
“Lu Huaizhou, eat buns!” she presented them like treasures.
The buns had thin skin and ample filling, soft and fluffy, the tops revealing the oiled, savory filling inside.
Xiao Zhang sniffed hard, almost drooling. He had heard the commander had married a fool, but never that the fool’s cooking smelled so good!
Lu Huaizhou picked up a bun and took a bite.
The outer layer was soft, with the faint sweetness of fermented flour, immediately followed by the burst of filling—crispy lard bits and sweet cabbage. Savory, balanced, rich but not greasy.
He ate five in a row before setting down his chopsticks. “You eat some too,” he said to Xiao Zhang.
Xiao Zhang, overwhelmed with honor, quickly refused. “No, no, Commander, I’ve eaten,” though his eyes stayed glued to the plate.
Su Hongxia handed him another. “Eat, there’s plenty more.”
Xiao Zhang finally took it, his eyes lighting up with a single bite. “Sister-in-law, your cooking is amazing! Better than our cafeteria chefs!”
Lu Huaizhou glanced at him. “Finish, then go.”
“Yes, sir!” Xiao Zhang devoured the buns in a few bites, wiped his mouth, and helped Lu Huaizhou into the jeep.
Once the jeep left, the courtyard became quiet.
Su Hongxia, satisfied and full, stored the remaining buns in the cabinet, then grabbed a small stool to sit in the sun, pondering her next steps.
What she lacked most right now was money.
The thirty yuan Lu Huaizhou gave her was plenty at first glance, but it was a drop in the bucket for improving life or preparing for the future.
She needed to find a way to earn money.
While lost in thought, a few older kids sneaked near the courtyard.
Leading them was a chubby little boy, about seven or eight, the son of Wang Saozi, who had been spying on her yesterday—named Wang Xiaohu.
“Hey, fool!” a tall, skinny boy threw a small stone at Su Hongxia’s feet.
It bounced once on the ground.
Su Hongxia lifted her head, expressionless.
Wang Xiaohu stood with his hands on his hips. “My mom says you’re Commander Lu’s bought fool wife, and you’ll make our courtyard a laughingstock!”
“Fool! Fool!” the other kids joined in, even throwing larger clumps of dirt into the yard.
Su Hongxia neither flinched nor got angry, simply watched quietly.
These kids were energetic and had been fed nonsense by adults—the kind of age even dogs would avoid. Getting angry was unnecessary.
She stood, turned, and went back inside.
“Hahaha, the fool ran away!” Wang Xiaohu boasted.“She’s probably crying at home!”
Just then, a scent they couldn’t resist wafted from the courtyard.
It was bold and gentle, as if thousands of little hands were tickling their hearts, stirring their appetites.
Steaming meat buns! Even richer than in the morning!
The kids froze, craning their necks to peek over the wall.
Su Hongxia emerged from the kitchen with a large steamer, filled with plump, steaming buns.
She placed it on the stone table in the center of the yard, picked up one, and leisurely began eating.
“Glurp.”
A gulp—someone’s stomach growled.
Wang Xiaohu’s rumbled the loudest. Morning breakfast had been a bowl of bland corn porridge with pickles.
Su Hongxia ignored them, eating another bun.
Wang Xiaohu finally couldn’t hold back, pushing the wooden gate open and stepping in, followed by his gang.
“Hey, fool, what… what are you eating?” he tried to maintain his authority, but his eyes were glued to the buns.
Su Hongxia looked up lazily and offered him half a bun. “Do you want some?”
Wang Xiaohu stared at the glossy filling, throat bobbing. He tried to remain tough: “Who… who wants that! Looks gross!”
“Oh,” Su Hongxia nodded, pretending to take it back.
“Wait!” Wang Xiaohu grabbed her wrist. “I… I just want to test if it’s poisoned!”
Su Hongxia beamed inside but kept an innocent expression. “Okay, then, try it.”
He snatched the bun, barely noticing the heat, and bit in.
“Mmm… delicious!” he mumbled.
The bun was unbelievably tasty! Soft, sweet skin, savory, juicy filling—far better than the dumplings he had at New Year.
He finished half in a few bites, eyes still on the steamer.
The other children crowded around, eyes gleaming green with envy.
Su Hongxia pointed at the steamer, then at a pile of firewood in the yard. Slowly, she said, “Want some?”
The kids nodded furiously.
“Split those firewood logs, bring a basket of kindling back,” she instructed.“Once it’s done, you can eat these buns to your heart’s content.”
Wang Xiaohu puffed out his chest. “Hear that, everyone? Work! Work, then eat meat buns!”
The once-rowdy kids suddenly became like energized little soldiers, scrambling for axes and knives.
Though clumsy, their enthusiasm was high.
Su Hongxia sat back on her stool, watching her free labor with a barely noticeable smile.
Sometimes, building a following was this simple.
An hour later, the firewood chopped, kindling gathered, the children, sweat-soaked, surrounded the stone table, eyes fixed on Su Hongxia.
“Eat.”
Her command sent them cheering, swarming forward.
Wang Xiaohu, as leader, grabbed the largest three buns, mouth greasy, and mumbled to Su Hongxia:“Fool… sister-in-law, if anyone dares bully you, tell me, I’ll hit them!”
Su Hongxia smiled and patted his head.
By evening, Wang Xiaohu waddled home, belly round.
Wang Saozi was making dinner—porridge in the pot, wilted cabbage on the side.
She called her son: “Xiaohu, wash up, dinner’s ready.”
He smelled the bland food and thought back to the afternoon buns, realizing the stark difference.