On our wedding night, my new husband, Gu Changfeng, a military officer famous for being cold, ruthless, and strictly by the book, sat upright across from me, gravely reciting our “three house rules.”

With a face carved from ice and a voice like deep winter snow, he maintained a rigid composure. But right in my ears, his inner voice was screaming at top volume:

I lowered my head, my lips twitching as I fought back a sudden burst of laughter.

So… this was what it felt like to marry the military’s Living Reaper? Talk about a thrill.

He droned on through the terms:

“First, as a military wife, you must follow regulations. No leaving the compound without permission, and no snooping into military secrets.”

“Second, the living quarters are full of gossips. Keep your mouth shut and stay out of trouble.”

“Third, ours is an arranged marriage. For now… we sleep in separate beds.”

Listening to all this, I practically choked on a laugh.

I had only just arrived in the North, still reeling from a agonizing seven-day train ride that had left me with a scorching fever—so bad I’d almost met the real King of Hell. When I finally woke up, I was face-to-face with my new husband, the youngest commander in the entire military district, notoriously known as the “Iceberg.”

He was sitting on a chair beside the bed, his back straight as a ramrod. Even in his faded, washed-out uniform, he radiated an overwhelming pressure. Sword-shaped brows, bright eyes, a high nose bridge, and tightly pressed lips—his entire face might as well have had “Keep Away” tattooed across it.

He laid out his conditions as if he were delivering a tactical briefing.

And yet, my ears were picking up a completely different broadcast:

I froze, instinctively rubbing my ear.

Was I hallucinating? A fever side effect?

I stole a glance at him and murmured, “Understood… Commander Gu.”

He gave a sharp nod, his tone remaining distant. “Good. You just broke your fever; get some rest.”

Meanwhile, his mind was spiraling in total panic:

This time, I was certain.

I could actually hear Gu Changfeng’s inner thoughts.

The realization sent a surge of adrenaline through my veins. I thought I was marrying a glacier, but inside that iceberg was a volcano on the verge of eruption!

He stood up to leave, pausing at the door to deliver one last chilly instruction: “If you need anything, write down a list.”

Inside, he was practically roaring:

Watching his back as he practically fled the room, a sensation of pure, thrilling amusement bubbled up inside me.

That afternoon, he actually returned with a piping-hot bowl of millet porridge, complete with a golden fried egg resting on top. In a time of scarcity, this was a luxury meal fit for a VIP patient.

He set the bowl down on the table with a sharp clack, his voice as hard as stone. “Made by the canteen kitchen. Eat.”

Inside his head, he was practically bouncing off the walls:

I was throwing a party on the inside, but on the outside, I maintained a shy, timid front. I scooped up the porridge spoon by spoon, taking my sweet time.

“Thank you, Commander Gu. Really, you didn’t have to go through the trouble. I could have just eaten the regular canteen food.”

His expression stayed deadpan, his voice stern. “You’re a military wife, and you’re sick. You deserve this.”

He pulled up a chair and sat down, staring out the window to look completely businesslike.

I bit back a smile and ate even slower, deliberately staying silent. To push his buttons today, I had to play the timid “introvert.”

Sure enough, his knuckles turned white as he gripped his knees tight.

Seeing that he was on the absolute brink of a meltdown, I finally looked up, my eyes crinkling into a soft smile. “Commander Gu, this porridge is delicious. Truly the best I’ve ever had.”

His ears instantly flushed bright red, like a cat whose tail had been stepped on.

Yet his mouth remained stubborn. “Hmph. The chef’s skill is decent, I suppose.”

Just then, a shrill, gossipy voice drifted in from the doorway.

“Oh my, if it isn’t little Sister Lin! You’re finally awake! Commander Gu was worried sick about you, keeping watch by your bedside every single day!”

A plump woman wearing a floral shirt pushed the door open and waddled inside—Sister Wang from next door. Her eyes gleamed with curiosity, her voice dripping with artificial sweetness as she overtly sized me up.

Gu Changfeng’s brows knitted together immediately.

Sister Wang made herself right at home, sitting on the edge of the bed and casually reaching out to touch the silver bracelet on my wrist. “You’re a lucky girl, marrying into a brand-new house right off the bat. Not like us—four people squeezed into the old quarters.”

I smiled politely and pulled my hand back. Before I could even speak, Changfeng cut in, his voice icy cold. “Sister Wang, Wanqiu isn’t fully recovered. She needs her rest.”

Sister Wang’s expression froze for a fraction of a second before she forced another smile. “Oh, I was just showing some concern! But I heard you’re an educated city girl, dear? I imagine you’re not used to roughing it in a place like this?”

It sounded like concern, but it was a blatant trap. In these times, being labeled an “intellectual city youth” was nothing short of walking trouble.

While I was calculating how to handle her, his inner voice erupted again like thunder:

A sudden warmth bloomed in my chest. Looking at Sister Wang, I smiled softly. “Thank you for your concern, Sister Wang. But wherever my husband goes, that is my home. As long as I’m with Changfeng, even the hardest life tastes sweet.”

I stole a quick glance at him. Sure enough, the crimson flush had spread all the way down his neck.

Stumped by my response, Sister Wang let out a awkward laugh and promptly excused herself.

Quiet descended upon the room once more.

He kept his head down, his expression unreadable, but I knew his inner world was boiling over.

Case in point:

He suddenly bolted upright, nearly knocking his chair over in the process.

“You… you get some rest! I… I have work to do!”

Flustered, he darted out the door, his retreating back looking for all the world like an embarrassed teenager making a run for it.

I pulled the blanket up, shaking with helpless laughter.

This man… was honestly way too adorable.