“Ahem.” He cleared his throat. “I have a meeting at headquarters today, so I might be back late. Stay home and don’t wander around.”

I nodded obediently. “Alright. I’ll wait for you to come home for dinner.”

“Mm.” He gave a clipped response and strode out the door.

Watching his retreating back as I clutched the heavy iron box to my chest, I felt a mix of amusement and a gentle ache in my heart.

Gu Changfeng, you absolute idiot. Pouring your whole heart out to me like this—where else could I possibly run?

Once he was gone, I rolled up my sleeves and set to work cleaning the room. This was our home now; I couldn’t let it stay messy.

There wasn’t much furniture: a bed, a table, two chairs, and a wooden chest. But every single piece had been wiped down until it practically sparkled.

I hung up the few sets of clothes I’d brought from home and placed a pot of pothos on the windowsill. Instantly, the whole room brightened up.

While I was still tidying, Sister Wang poked her head in, holding a bowl of cornmeal with a squinty-eyed smile. “Little Sister Lin, feeling better? I brought you a little something.”

“Thank you, Sister Wang. I’m completely recovered.”

“That’s good, that’s good.” As she spoke, her neck stretched out like a crane’s, her eyes darting all over the room.

When her gaze landed on the lush green pot of pothos, her eyes lit up, and her tone instantly shifted. “My, my, you city girls really are something else, growing stuff like this. You can’t eat it, you can’t drink it—what a waste of soil! Nobody in our compound goes in for these bourgeois habits, you know!”

Her voice was just loud enough for the women out in the courtyard to hear. Sure enough, someone immediately chimed in from outside:

“She’s right! We practice thrift and hard work around here. Who has the time to mess around with flowers and grass?”

I let out a cold laugh to myself. If these gossips don’t run their mouths, their tongues must itch.

Right on cue, another sharp, shrill voice piped up: “Well, well, isn’t that Commander Gu’s new bride? I heard she’s a spoiled city girl, but bringing these corrupt bourgeois habits into the military compound the moment she arrives?”

The speaker was Li Aihua, the wife of Logistics Officer Zhang. She had a mouth sour as vinegar and had spent ages stewing in jealousy over how young Gu Changfeng was for a battalion commander.

I was just about to fire back when an icy voice echoed from the doorway: “Who said anything about bourgeois habits?”

I gasped. Wasn’t he supposed to be at a meeting?

I turned to see him standing at the door, his face as dark as the bottom of a burnt wok. In his hand, he was carrying a mesh bag containing a thick slab of pork belly and a bundle of fresh greens.

His inner thoughts sounded like a lion whose tail had just been stepped on. The entire courtyard went dead silent.

At the sight of him, Li Aihua’s bravado deflated by half, though she still tried to save face. “Commander Gu, we were just following the party’s slogans. Your wife growing flowers… well… it just doesn’t seem quite appropriate.”

His gaze sliced over her like a blade, making her instantly draw her neck back.

“Growing a plant is bourgeois?” His voice wasn’t loud, but it carried the weight of a boulder. “Chairman Mao himself called on us to green the nation. Comrade Lin Wanqiu is actively responding to the call, yet in your eyes, she’s harboring bourgeois habits? Or is it that in your mind, only desolation and neglect count as being thrifty?”

He paused for a beat, his voice growing even colder and sharper. “Slapping malicious labels on people and picking fights out of thin air—that is the most dangerous habit of all!”

Li Aihua and Sister Wang flushed a deep red, utterly speechified. A few of the other women nearby even nodded in quiet agreement.

Gu Changfeng didn’t give them a second glance. He walked straight past them, shoved the mesh bag into my hands, and—right in front of everyone—boldly took my hand in his, pulling me inside the room.

His palm was broad, warm, and solid. The moment he held my hand, every trace of grievance I felt completely evaporated.

The most powerful confession of love I had ever heard in my life came from his rough, fierce inner thoughts.

Once inside, he slammed the door shut with a loud thud, cutting off all the prying eyes outside.

Releasing my hand, his face was as cold as ever, though the tips of his ears were burning bright red.

“If anything happens in the future, you tell me right away.”

Looking at his “cold on the outside, flustered on the inside” routine, I couldn’t help but burst out laughing.