First Night with the Army: The Stoic Big Shot Is Done Pretending

After coaxing his mother onto the sofa to watch TV, Jiang Chen lowered his voice and asked, "How are things going for you over there in Sea City?"

Jiang Ye was instantly overwhelmed with self-pity. Sobbing, she said, "Brother, the conditions here in Northwest are just awful. There’s no private bathroom, so I have to use the public one in the hallway, and it’s pitch-black. I’m scared."

Jiang Chen listened to her complaints. "You brought this on yourself."

Jiang Ye continued, "Can you call Brother Jingyuan and ask him to let me move in with them? They were assigned a three-bedroom apartment."

Hearing this, Jiang Chen’s brows knitted. He couldn’t understand how Ye Zi could even say such a thing. He had already indulged her by letting her go to Northwest to try and break up Huo Jingyuan’s marriage.

But now, she wanted to move into their house to do it.

He forcefully suppressed his anger. "If you manage to break them up, that’s your business. But what’s this about moving into their home?"

"But, their spare room is..."

Before she could finish, Jiang Chen cut her off. "No more ’buts.’ I won’t help you. You were the one who insisted on going to Northwest. If you can’t take the hardship, then come back and study for your college entrance exams."

For the past few days, whenever he left the military compound, he’d been cornered by Jiang Ye’s ex-boyfriend, demanding to know where she’d gone.

With that, Jiang Chen hung up.

-

「The next day.」

Wen Ci left for work at her usual time. Huo Jingyuan, dressed in a crisp, gleaming military uniform, took her hand and noticed the thick calluses on it had faded considerably.

Wen Ci used to do farm work back in her village.

But she hadn’t done any heavy labor since being welcomed back by the Jiang Family.

"Want me to take you to work?"

"No, it’s fine." Wen Ci looked at Huo Jingyuan’s gleaming uniform and remembered how he’d been ironing it before dawn, using a mug of boiling water.

"So that’s what you were ironing this morning?"

"Mhm."

Huo Jingyuan gazed at Wen Ci, his deep, ink-black eyes filled with tender affection, and asked, "Are you sure you don’t want me to take you to the hospital?"

"No, really, no."

Wen Ci insisted.

Huo Jingyuan was already breathtakingly handsome, and the gleaming military uniform only served to accentuate his best features. With the staff at Northwest Hospital being mostly women, she knew she’d get jealous.

"How about I cook for you tonight, then?"

Wen Ci raised an eyebrow. "You’re up to no good."

"Of course not."

As he spoke, Huo Jingyuan leaned in close to Wen Ci’s cheek. He had originally intended to whisper a few risqué things in her ear—the kind of talk reserved for a husband and wife—but then he saw her fair, soft cheek.

He couldn’t resist giving it a peck. His voice was deep and enchanting, but his face broke into a silly grin. "Honey, your cheeks are so soft, just like a steamed bun."

Wen Ci: "..."

’Soft, she could admit. But like a steamed bun? Absolutely not.’

With a look of mock disgust, she pushed Huo Jingyuan away and pouted. "You’re the one who looks like a steamed bun."

"Didn’t you say I was hard as steel?"

An otherwise innocent sentence took on a whole new meaning coming from Huo Jingyuan’s lips.

Wen Ci’s face flushed. "Don’t be ridiculous! When did I ever say that?!"

’At the time, she had just been poking his abs. Her actual words were, "Your abs are really hard... I wonder if they could withstand training with an iron rod."’

She’d seen soldiers train their endurance by getting hit in the stomach with iron rods. How did "iron rod" become "steel" in Huo Jingyuan’s version?

Wen Ci’s eyes narrowed.

’She strongly suspected this damn man was making a dirty joke.’

The bugle call for morning training sounded outside. Huo Jingyuan released Wen Ci’s hand, his playful expression instantly vanishing. He said slowly, "I have to go."

"I’m going to the cafeteria for breakfast."

At the cafeteria’s service window, Wen Ci saw Zhu Jing at work.

Zhu Jing had been promoted to head cook, but in the mornings, she still had to help hand out steamed buns and congee. Wen Ci walked up to the window and greeted her warmly, "Sister Jing."