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

With that, she fled in a panic.

Wen Ci watched Yu Qing’s retreating figure, her brow furrowing slightly. She playfully tapped Huo Jingyuan on the chest and asked in a delicate voice,

"Huo Jingyuan, just how bad is your reputation in the Northwest Military Region? Doctor Yu acts like a mouse who’s seen a cat whenever she sees you, keeping her distance."

Huo Jingyuan: "..."

He had a vague recollection of Yu Qing. Before the New Year, he had caught a mole at the military hospital, and Yu Qing had happened to witness it. That must have left a lasting, dark impression on her.

Huo Jingyuan’s gaze slowly drifted from Wen Ci’s eyes down to her lips. The thought of her performing on stage stirred a possessiveness deep within him.

"Do you have to participate?"

Wen Ci shook her head. "I do."

She didn’t want to be in the Military Art performance either, but the head nurse had hinted so strongly that refusing would have been disrespectful.

"Then why did you come back early?"

"Nothing much was going on, so I came back."

Hearing this, Wen Ci looked at Huo Jingyuan gently, propping her chin on her hand. She spoke slowly, "Something’s not right. Your tone is off."

Usually, Huo Jingyuan’s tone was flat and even.

But there was something deeply wrong with his ’Nothing much was going on, so I came back.’ It was too placid. She reached out and pulled the man into the courtyard.

Wen Ci wrapped her arms around his neck and gazed at him earnestly, as if trying to discern the truth of his words by peering into his deep, ink-black eyes.

"Really, nothing’s wrong?"

Huo Jingyuan’s Adam’s apple bobbed.

He wanted to say everything was fine, but he also didn’t want to hide anything from Wen Ci.

After a moment of hesitation, Huo Jingyuan let out a heavy breath, masking the expression in his eyes. His voice held a trace of resignation. "There is something. We’ll talk about it at dinner."

"Alright." Wen Ci released his neck and shrugged.

Since Huo Jingyuan didn’t plan on discussing it right away, it must not be serious enough to spoil dinner. She reached out to take the grocery bag from his right hand.

Huo Jingyuan’s eyes lowered slightly. "I’ll get it. You go watch TV."

Suddenly, Wen Ci remembered that a few of the neighborhood children would be coming over after dinner to watch TV. She smiled and said, "The little rascal and his friends are coming over to watch TV tonight."

"They are?" Huo Jingyuan frowned.

Wen Ci counted on her fingers. "There’s Sister Jing’s son—the little rascal, you’ve met him—Sister Qin’s twins, Ah Wang and Ah Hua, and Sister Li’s son, Xiao Shitou."

Huo Jingyuan fell silent.

He could already imagine the sound of four children chattering in his ears, and his brow tightened. "Are the little kids very mischievous?"

"Kids are bound to be a little mischievous."

As she spoke, Wen Ci naturally looped her arm through Huo Jingyuan’s and smiled faintly. "Just think of it as getting used to life with children in advance."

Hearing this, a blissful expression softened Huo Jingyuan’s features.

Back inside, Huo Jingyuan went to the kitchen first to chop the vegetables and meat. It was still early, so there was no rush to eat. Wen Ci sat in the courtyard with a sketchbook, drawing a sleeveless dress.

Huo Jingyuan walked over to her side, glanced down at the dress in her sketchbook, and lowered his gaze. "Is this what you’re planning to wear for the Military Art performance?"

"Mhm."

"Do you need me to help you contact an expert tailor?"

Wen Ci put down her paintbrush and looked up at Huo Jingyuan, her eyes glistening with pleasant surprise. "Could you? We only have a budget of thirty yuan."

Huo Jingyuan pursed his lips. "Do you want the honest truth, or...?"

"The truth, of course."

"It’s not enough."

The tailor’s shop has been passed down for a hundred years.