“Here we are. Get out.”
Before the jeep had even come to a complete stop, the passenger-side door swung open.
Gu Ci jumped out, his military boots kicking up a cloud of dust as they struck the hard, dry earth. Without even looking back, he strode straight to the jeep’s trunk, grabbed his dark green military duffel bag with one hand, and slung it over his shoulder. Every movement was sharp and efficient, carrying an unmistakable air of menace.
A low murmur rippled through the crowd of onlookers.
It was dinnertime, and the water tap at the entrance to the military compound was crowded with military wives washing vegetables and laundry. One by one, they craned their necks, staring at the jeep as though they could see straight through it.
“So that’s Colonel Gu’s new wife? Why isn’t she getting out?”
“Could she have fainted from fright in the car? I heard she’s from the countryside and has never seen anything like this before.”
The plump woman next door, Wang Juhua, flung the wet clothes in her hands into a basin and shook the water off her fingers. The rolls of flesh on her face trembled with excitement.
“I wouldn’t be surprised. What kind of temper does Gu the Devil have? If that new bride knows what’s good for her, she should get out and kneel before him.”
Finally, the back door of the jeep opened.
There were no tears, no hysterical sobbing, and no trembling legs.
Jiang Ning stepped out one leg at a time. Her black cloth shoes were covered in dust, and two conspicuous patches had been sewn onto her trouser legs. She climbed out slowly, wrapped in an oversized military coat that was two sizes too big for her. She looked like a slender bamboo stalk stuffed into a burlap sack.
The wind was strong, whipping her hair in every direction.
She raised her eyes and swept her gaze across the people pointing and whispering around her. She didn’t linger on any of them. Instead, her gaze finally settled on the back of the man who had already walked several meters ahead.
“My luggage.”
Jiang Ning spoke. Her voice was scattered by the wind, but there was an unmistakable air of matter-of-fact expectation in it.
Gu Ci stopped in his tracks.
He turned around, his brows furrowed with undisguised impatience. His bloodshot eyes fixed on Jiang Ning as though he were looking at a dead person.
“What did you say?”
“I said, my luggage.” Jiang Ning pointed at the enormous woven sack remaining in the trunk. “It’s too heavy. I can’t carry it.”
The entire area fell silent.
Wang Juhua’s mouth dropped into a perfect O. The bar of soap slipped from her hand and landed on the ground, but she didn’t even notice.
Was this country girl crazy? How dare she order Gu the Devil around?
Gu Ci’s lips curled into an expression of utter contempt.
He strode back toward her.
Just as everyone expected him either to hit her or, perhaps, to display a rare moment of gentlemanly courtesy and carry her bag, he reached out his hand—
BANG!
He slammed the trunk shut.
Then he yanked out the enormous woven sack and tossed it onto the dusty ground at Jiang Ning’s feet.
“Too heavy?”
Gu Ci looked down at her condescendingly, his voice as cold as the biting northwestern wind.
“Then throw it away. I don’t support useless people.”
With that, he turned and walked off again, moving even faster than before, as though something filthy were following him.
Jiang Ning stood where she was, watching his merciless retreating figure.
She wasn’t angry. Her expression didn’t change in the slightest.
“Tsk.”
She lowered her head and glanced at the woven sack, which was nearly half as tall as she was. Inside were the pitiful remnants of the original Jiang Ning’s belongings. They weren’t worth much, but in an era when supplies were scarce, throwing them away would be foolish.
Jiang Ning bent down and gripped the sack’s ropes with both hands.
“Up.”
Gritting her teeth, she dragged the heavy sack off the ground. Its bottom scraped against the rough surface, producing a harsh, grating rustle.
And so, she dragged it along, following Gu Ci step by step.
She didn’t ask for help. She didn’t complain. She showed not the slightest trace of embarrassment.
She walked slowly, but steadily.
As she passed Wang Juhua, the latter instinctively stepped backward. She had suddenly realized that this new bride, who was as thin as a ghost, had no grievance in her eyes. Instead, there was a chilling indifference that made her uneasy.
It was as though Jiang Ning wasn’t dragging a piece of luggage behind her, but a corpse.
…
They entered the house.
It was a two-bedroom, one-living-room bungalow with nothing but a table missing one leg and two chairs. A thick layer of dust covered the floor, and cobwebs hung in the corners.
Gu Ci tossed his military duffel onto the only wooden bed in the inner room, then flopped down onto it. He didn’t even remove his military boots, simply propping them up against the bed rail.
“That’s my bed.”
His eyes remained closed as he spoke in a hoarse voice.
“Cross the line, and you die.”
Jiang Ning dragged the woven sack into the house and shut the door behind her, cutting off the prying eyes outside.
She looked around.
Apart from the bed in the inner room, the outer room was completely empty. There wasn’t even a place where a person could lie down comfortably. The concrete floor was icy cold, radiating a bitter chill.
“Then where am I supposed to sleep?” Jiang Ning asked.
“On the floor. On the table. Wherever you want.”
Gu Ci didn’t even lift an eyelid.
“Just stay out of my sight.”
Jiang Ning nodded.
Fine.
When living under someone else’s roof, you had to accept your place at the bottom of the pecking order. But how long she intended to stay in that position was another matter entirely.
She opened the woven sack and pulled out an old cotton quilt. It was something the original Jiang Ning had brought from the Jiang family. It was as hard as an iron board, but at least it could provide some insulation against the cold.
She spread it in the farthest corner from the inner room, then rolled up a few worn-out clothes to use as a pillow.
Her little nest was ready.
Next came the problem of food.
“Colonel Gu,” Jiang Ning called as she walked to the doorway of the inner room and knocked on the doorframe. “Is dinner being served at the mess hall?”
Gu Ci finally opened his eyes.
He sat up on the bed, an aluminum lunchbox somehow already in his hand. He had picked it up from the mess hall on his way back.
The moment he opened it, the rich aroma of meat filled the room.
Braised pork. White steamed buns.
Jiang Ning’s stomach helpfully growled. Her clear black-and-white eyes fixed on the meat, and she swallowed instinctively.
Gu Ci picked up a steamed bun, speared a piece of pork with just the right balance of fat and lean meat, and leisurely stuffed it into his mouth.
“Dinner’s being served.”
He chewed, looking at Jiang Ning with mocking amusement.
“But I didn’t buy a portion for you.”
Jiang Ning: “…”
“I have money.” Jiang Ning reached into her pocket, where she had hidden the two hundred yuan extorted from Li Cuihua.
“Money won’t help you here.” Gu Ci sneered. “This is a military compound. You need ration coupons to eat. Do you have grain coupons? Meat coupons?”
Jiang Ning’s hand stopped inside her pocket.
She really didn’t have any. There was no way the Jiang family would have given her ration coupons.
“So I’m supposed to starve?” Jiang Ning asked.
“You won’t die of hunger.”
Gu Ci pointed toward the water vat in the corner.
“There’s plenty of water. Or you can rummage through your garbage sack and see if the Jiang family left you any scraps.”
Jiang Ning stared at him for three seconds.
Then she turned and returned to her corner, reaching into the very bottom of her woven sack. She pulled out a dry, black cornmeal bun. It was left over from before she boarded the train, and it was hard enough to crack someone’s skull.
She sat cross-legged on her cotton quilt and gnawed at the bun, washing it down with cold water, one bite at a time.
Her teeth ground against the hard bun, producing a series of crisp cracking sounds.
Gu Ci ate meat in the inner room while she chewed on what felt like a rock in the outer room.
The aroma of meat drifted toward her, filling her nostrils and making her stomach churn with acid. Yet Jiang Ning acted as though she had lost her sense of taste, mechanically chewing and swallowing.
She was eating.
Not for pleasure, but for survival.
This body was far too weak. Without food, she would have no calories. Without calories, she would have no strength. And without strength…
How was she supposed to kill anyone?
After swallowing the last bite of the bun, Jiang Ning drank a large dipper of cold water to fill her stomach.
Night fell.
There was no light bulb in the house. Gu Ci had smashed the previous one, leaving only the faint, yellowish glow of the streetlamp outside filtering through the windows.
Rustling sounds came from the inner room.
Gu Ci was sharpening a knife.
Scrape… scrape…
It was the sound of his military dagger sliding across a whetstone. The rhythm was monotonous and sharp, sending chills down anyone’s spine in the silence of the night.
Wrapped in her threadbare cotton quilt, Jiang Ning curled up in the corner.
She didn’t sleep.
Neither did Gu Ci.
Separated by a single doorway, the two remained locked in a silent standoff in the darkness.
Gu Ci’s insomnia had struck again. He could sense the woman’s presence in the outer room. The sound of her breathing, the rustling of her clothes whenever she shifted—all of it seemed to pound inside his skull like a drum.
If she dared to set even one foot across that doorway, his knife would fly.
Meanwhile, Jiang Ning clutched a rusty razor blade in her hand, her eyes wide open as she stared at the pitch-black ceiling.
This was supposed to be their wedding night.
Instead, it was a battle between two hunters trapped inside the same cage, each waiting to see who would blink first.