Wasn’t Colonel Zhou’s wife supposed to be a country bumpkin?
If the soldiers hadn’t seen her introduction letter and marriage certificate, they would never have believed that the stunning beauty standing before them was the supposedly unsophisticated regimental commander’s wife.
Then they looked at the two children.
They were as delicate and pretty as painted dolls, as if they’d stepped out of a New Year picture.
The boy especially looked exactly like Colonel Zhou—like he’d been carved from the same mold.
Su Qing’s expression remained cool as she let the soldiers look over her and her two children.
The Zhou family didn’t yet know the children existed, but she couldn’t keep it from them forever.
Nor did she intend to.
They were two living, breathing children, and the Zhou family had power and influence in Beicheng. She wasn’t foolish enough to pit an egg against a rock.
She also had no intention of keeping the children from acknowledging the Zhou family. They could give the children resources she couldn’t.
“Could you call someone for me?”
The soldier came to his senses. “Jiang Weidong, Colonel Zhou is away on a mission. I’ll have someone take you to the guesthouse for now. You can wait there until he gets back.”
He wasn’t here?
Su Qing frowned.
Was he deliberately avoiding her?
Once Zhou Huaijin came back, she would ask for a divorce. Since they were both sick of each other, it should be easy to arrange.
The soldier made a phone call. A man in uniform came running out, sweating profusely.
“Jiang Weidong.” Zheng Chongan looked at the stunning beauty in front of him, unable to connect her with the rumored wife of Commander Zhou.
But as a deputy regimental commander, he had seen plenty. He didn’t let his feelings show the way the soldier had.
He took Su Qing’s luggage and said with a smile, “Jiang Weidong, the commander’s away on a mission. I’ll take you to the guesthouse to rest.”
Su Qing nodded, took Zhou Yunzhou’s hand in one of hers and Zhou Wantang’s in the other, and followed Zheng Chongan.
As they went, Zheng Chongan pointed out the landmarks along the way.
“That’s the cafeteria, that’s the supply cooperative, and that’s the bathhouse. The men bathe on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays; the women on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. Sundays are for maintenance.”
“Jiang Weidong, here we are. This is the guesthouse.”
Su Qing looked up at the plain, three-story building.
She handed her papers to the staff member and got the key to her room.
“Sister-in-law, I’ll take your luggage upstairs.”
Zheng Chongan knew how to keep a respectful distance.
His sister-in-law was beautiful, but he never stared. He left the luggage outside Room 203, then took a handful of meal tickets from his pocket and offered them to Su Qing.
“Sister-in-law, my wife will come by in a bit and take you to the cafeteria. Or, if you’d rather eat in your room, I can ask her to bring the food up.”
“No need to trouble her. We can go ourselves.” Su Qing accepted the tickets and thanked him, then added, “When Zhou Huaijin gets back, I’ll have him return them to you.”
Su Qing didn’t like imposing on others.
In her previous life, she’d had “no one” to ask for help, and she’d grown used to managing on her own. She didn’t like troubling people—and she didn’t like people troubling her, either.
Zheng Chongan paused, but still said, “Sister-in-law, don’t be so formal. The commander’s away, so it’s only right that I look after you.”
“If I need anything, I’ll come to you,” Su Qing said.
Zheng Chongan glanced at Su Qing’s beautiful, cool expression and, for some reason, didn’t dare press her any further.
He even had the odd feeling that, in some ways, she was like the commander.
Before leaving, he took a handful of White Rabbit milk candies from his pocket and slipped them into the children’s pockets.
Zhou Yunzhou and Zhou Wantang both looked up at their mother. If she didn’t want them to take the candy, they wouldn’t.
“Be sure to thank Uncle,” Su Qing gently prompted them.
Zhou Yunzhou and Zhou Wantang said together, “Thank you, Uncle!”
Zhou Wantang grinned, immediately pulled out a White Rabbit candy, unwrapped it, and popped it into her mouth.
The milky sweetness filled her mouth, and her eyes curved into slits as she smiled.
Zheng Chongan patted both children on the head, told Su Qing to come to him if she needed anything, and left.
Su Qing looked around the room. There were two beds, each about four feet wide, a table with a thermos on it, one chair, and a washbasin stand. That was all.
The washroom was at the end of the corridor.
Su Qing filled the basin with warm water and wiped Zhou Yunzhou and Zhou Wantang down. Then she changed the water and washed herself.
When she turned back, she saw the children leaning over the table, writing.
There was only one chair, so Zhou Yunzhou had let his little sister sit in it while he sat on the bed, his short legs swinging in the air.
Both children loved studying. They usually did their homework on their own as soon as they got home from school; she never had to remind them.
She glanced at her watch. It was almost noon.
“Yunzhou, Wantang, stay here and do your homework. Mom’s going to get lunch.”
The children both turned toward her.
“Okay, Mom,” they answered in unison.
Su Qing reminded Zhou Yunzhou to keep an eye on his sister and not let her run outside, then picked up the aluminum lunch tin and headed for the cafeteria.
It was the middle of May. The sun wasn’t too fierce yet, but it was a little glaring.
Su Qing shielded her eyes with one hand as she entered the cafeteria. The noisy room fell silent at once.
Everyone looked at the stunning beauty who had just walked in.
“Whose family member is she? Or maybe someone’s daughter? She’s so pretty!”
“I don’t know. I’ve never seen her before.”
“Whoever she belongs to, if she’s living here, we’ll find out soon enough.”
Ignoring the looks around her, Su Qing went straight to the serving window.
The food on the train had been simple, and the children were probably hungry by now.
A banner above the window read: “Thrift Is Honorable; Waste Is Shameful.”
Su Qing ordered two meat dishes, a serving of steamed egg custard, a serving of hot-and-sour shredded potatoes, three portions of rice, and five steamed buns.
Ignoring the people staring at her as if she were some “spendthrift wife,” she picked up the aluminum lunch tin and left.
Zhou Yunzhou had a big appetite—bigger than hers. She never let her son go hungry.
It wasn’t as if they couldn’t afford food.
After lunch, the three of them lay down on the guesthouse beds for a nap.
There were a lot of traffickers in those days, and Su Qing hadn’t dared sleep properly on the train, afraid they might snatch the children.
Now that she was lying on the bed, she fell asleep in seconds.
A middle-aged woman, around fifty and still retaining her charm, stood before Su Qing, looking at her with scorn.
“Su Qing, so what if you gave Zhou Huaijin two children? Your son is my daughter’s lapdog, and your daughter was born clever but is short-lived. All the Zhou family’s property will end up in our hands—my daughter’s and mine. Ha ha…”
Su Qing jerked awake. Her clothes were soaked with sweat.
She stared at the room, with its unmistakable period atmosphere, and for a moment felt dazed, unable to tell whether she was awake or still dreaming.
She had just dreamed that the world she was in wasn’t real at all. She had entered a book called Sweet Military Marriage in the Seventies, and she was the story’s villainess.
In the book, the original Su Qing hadn’t brought Zhou Yunzhou and Zhou Wantang to the military family compound. Instead, she struggled to get by with them in the village, where anyone could bully the three of them.
Meanwhile, Zhou Huaijin and his white moonlight lived happily together for the rest of their lives.
…
Just before the train pulled away, Zhou Huaijin and Jiang Wei jumped aboard.
As soon as he was on, the conductor slammed the door shut.
The train clattered forward.
“Commander Zhou?” Everyone in the carriage was a soldier. When they saw Zhou Huaijin, their eyes widened in shock.