Chapter 10: Does That Make You Happy?

The two-story building was the family quarters reserved specifically for officers' families.

It wasn't as lively as the ordinary residential area in the front row.

There were few cadres in the unit to begin with, and not many family members had been assigned to live here either. Many rooms stood empty, cold and deserted. The lights under the eaves hadn't been turned on in ages, and now they flickered on and off.

Wen Ning went upstairs and saw Gu Lan standing under the light in front of her door, an overcoat draped over her shoulders, peering around.

Looked like she'd been waiting.

Sure enough, the moment Gu Lan spotted her, she hurried over with a smile and pressed a cloth bag into her hands. "Tingyue asked my old Li to bring this to you. He probably figured you'd get hungry at night. I knocked just now and no one answered, so I guessed you were in the shower. How is it? Is the water still hot this late?"

Seeing the worry in Gu Lan's eyes, Wen Ning felt a warmth in her chest. Not wanting to make her anxious, she said, "The water's fine. Shower was pretty comfortable."

She took the bag and looked inside.

Several big golden-yellow apricots, each one plump and round, still with a few bright green leaves attached—they looked remarkably fresh. Next to them was a small packet of red dates, every one of them large.

Gu Lan smiled and explained, "These are all local specialties. Apricots and red dates from anywhere else can't compare to how sweet ours are."

Cradling the bag, Wen Ning blinked. Suddenly she remembered the comments she'd overheard by the wall earlier: stuck-up, thinks she's above everyone.

She could tell Gu Lan genuinely meant well, so she let her cold, defensive mask drop. Her eyes curved into a smile, and in a sweet, unhurried voice she said, "Thank you, Auntie Gu."

She explained earnestly, "When I left first earlier, saying I was going back to get something—half of it really was that I forgot my soap. But the other half was that I was too embarrassed. I wanted to wait until there were fewer people before going back. It wasn't that I looked down on anyone. Really, it wasn't."

Gu Lan watched the girl explain herself so obediently, dimples surfacing on her fair cheeks, a few damp strands of hair still stuck to the side of her face, soft and sweet. Her heart melted on the spot.

*This little girl,* she thought, *is clearly from an educated family. The way she talks and carries herself—so proper, so well-mannered.*

*Nothing like the way people describe her. An ugly capitalist, my foot.*

*She's obviously a gentle, sensible good child.*

"You silly girl, why explain all this to Auntie Gu? When did I ever blame you?" She paused, then asked suddenly, "Did someone say something to you? Don't you dare take it to heart. Some people just have filthy mouths—if they don't spew crap once a day, they can't sit still! Just treat it like a fart!"

First crap, then farts.

Wen Ning was struck dumb.

Swallowing a laugh, she said, "Auntie Gu, don't worry. What other people say is their business. My teacher taught me a saying: judge right and wrong for yourself; let praise and blame come from others. I won't let them get to me. My dad says getting angry over meaningless words is using someone else's mouth to punish your own heart—the loss outweighs the gain."

Gu Lan didn't fully understand, but the way the girl spoke was so refined and elegant, it was lovely to listen to.

The more she looked at her, the more she liked her. The more she looked, the more precious the girl seemed.

Back in her own home, Gu Lan couldn't stop praising her to Li Shungang. "Tell me, how does a girl this lovable even exist? Beautiful and educated—Tingyue really struck gold! My two debt-collecting sons never had that kind of luck. If I'd known, I'd have dumped them in Shanghai the day they were born. Maybe the Wen family would've picked them up and raised them, and then—"

"Stop, stop, stop!" Li Shungang cut off his wife's fantasy without mercy. "Why do you only ever think about impossible things? Our two lazy, good-for-nothing boys couldn't match half of Tingyue! And the girl's not an idiot!"

Gu Lan sighed. "True."

Li Shungang went on, "And another thing—Tingyue being adopted as a child isn't something outsiders know about. Six years ago, Old Song told everyone he'd brought his son over from the hometown. Don't you go blabbing it around."

Back then, Song Zhen had forgotten he had a wife and child because of amnesia, but if word got out, people might twist it into him abandoning his family after joining the army. One report letter sent up, and the trouble would be enormous.

Even Song Tingyue harbored some resentment toward his father—after all, his mother never got to see him again before she died.

Father and son had been lukewarm to each other for years. Getting them to sit down together and exchange a few heartfelt words was harder than climbing to heaven.

This time, bringing the Wen family's girl over—Old Song knew nothing about it.

Thinking back on the confrontation in the division office earlier, Li Shungang still felt a throb in his skull. He raised a hand and rubbed his temples.

Those two hadn't argued that fiercely in a long time. He'd been stuck in the middle playing peacemaker for ages.

"I'm not that famous 'Big Loudspeaker'—why would I spread rumors?" Gu Lan retorted indignantly. "If you ask me, Tingyue was in the wrong today too. What good are a few apricots and dates? It's his bride's first night here—he should've stayed in the family quarters with her. Why go back to the soldier dormitory? And leaving in such a hurry—see? Now people are gossiping!"

"Just go rest, will you? Give my ears a break," Li Shungang said, his headache worsening.

Song Tingyue wasn't sleeping in the soldier dormitory.

Tonight, he might not sleep at all.

The marriage certificate hadn't even been processed yet, and he'd pulled strings to transfer the girl's household registration without authorization. Song Zhen had summoned him urgently precisely to chew him out.

Just moments ago, inside the division office—

Song Zhen jabbed a finger at his son and barked, "You think the army is your family's business? You do whatever you please? This matter can be big or small—you know that in your heart. If someone digs it up and the organization really investigates, what consequences can you bear!?"

"I did it. I'll accept whatever comes. No need for you to worry." Song Tingyue stood without flinching. "As my superior, you have every right to hand down any punishment or disciplinary action. I accept it all."

Listening from the side, Li Shungang broke out in a cold sweat down his back.

Song Tingyue's temper ran stubborn deeper in his bones than his father's.

"You—!" Song Zhen's face went pale with fury. He snatched the ashtray off the desk and hurled it.

Song Tingyue didn't dodge.

*Bam!* The ashtray struck him square on the temple.

Blood ran down from his temple, winding past the side of his nose, dripping onto the collar of his uniform.

Song Tingyue didn't even blink. He just stood there, straight and rigid.

His face still wore that same lukewarm expression, as if the blood wasn't his own.

Only then did Li Shungang snap out of it. He fumbled out a handkerchief and pressed it to Song Tingyue's forehead. "Quick, quick, hold it there, hold it! What are you doing, Old Song? Can't you talk this out properly?"

He mediated between them for what felt like forever, wearing his tongue nearly thin.

In the end, no formal disciplinary record was filed, but punishment came down all the same.

"Rewrite the regiment's training summary for last quarter. If it's not on my desk by tomorrow morning, come report for disciplinary action!" Song Zhen slammed a stack of materials onto the table.

Song Tingyue glanced at the stack—at least several dozen pages of rejected drafts. He said nothing, raised his hand in a standard military salute, bent to pick them up, tucked them under his arm, and walked out.

Li Shungang let out a breath, tidied up, and followed him out of the office.

But he'd barely reached the bottom of the stairs when Song Tingyue came back. Somehow he'd gotten his hands on a bag full of apricots and red dates, bulging at the seams. Knowing Li Shungang went home to the family quarters every day, he shoved it into his hands. "Uncle Li, bring this to my wife for me."

*My wife*—said so smoothly. Li Shungang froze for a few seconds before it clicked who he meant.

He was about to say something when Song Tingyue added, "That little brat can never lie still in bed before sleep. Always has to nibble on some snack. A whole pile of bad habits, a real handful, annoying as hell."

The words were complaints, but Li Shungang didn't hear any real annoyance in them. If anything, he caught something else entirely.

"Alright, I'll take care of it," Li Shungang said. "Your father just blew his top earlier—don't take it to heart. That man of his—the harder you push, the harder he pushes back. Soften up tomorrow and this'll probably blow over. As for the girl—since you brought her here, treat her right. I'll deliver the stuff, but you need to go back and stay there often."

Song Tingyue grunted. "Understood."

Li Shungang looked down at the bag in his hands, then raised his eyes to the figure walking off into the dark.

*Well, would you look at that. This kid—usually so ruthless to himself, a King of Hell to his own soldiers, never a kind look on his face—actually has a tender side.*