Zhu Yingying shook her head slightly, her fingers unconsciously tightening in nervousness. Her voice grew even softer, tinged with a hint of timidity as she said,  

“No… I don’t know why she’s targeting me either. Maybe I did something wrong and made her misunderstand…”  

“Stop right there!”  

Zhou Qiqi suddenly pressed both hands onto Zhu Yingying’s slender shoulders, the force so strong that Zhu Yingying had no choice but to look up.  

The moment their eyes met, Zhou Qiqi’s almond-shaped eyes widened, her tone firm and resolute as she declared,  

“You can’t think like that! When someone’s being completely unreasonable, don’t keep blaming yourself. If you can blame others, never blame yourself—got it?!”  

As she spoke, she even raised three fingers.  

“You know what they say—’I reflect on myself three times a day: Have I been too polite? Have I given them too much face? Should I just throw hands already?'”  

Zhu Yingying was utterly baffled, instinctively pushing up her glasses as she muttered under her breath, “Huh… I don’t think that’s what that saying originally meant…”  

Zhou Qiqi didn’t bat an eye, replying with absolute confidence, “You must’ve remembered it wrong.”  

Zhu Yingying wasn’t stupid—she knew Zhou Qiqi was just trying to cheer her up. She didn’t argue further, nodding with a blush.  

But she was still a little worried. “You’d better be careful from now on. Since you spoke up for me today, Li Hongjuan will definitely start hating you too.”  

Zhou Qiqi carelessly tossed her head, her dark ponytail swaying wildly as a carefree smile spread across her face.  

“I’m not scared of her! If she hates me, I’ll hate her right back!”  

As she said this, she even mimed grabbing a broom from the corner and swinging it through the air, adding,  

“Remember—if a dog bites you, don’t kneel down and bark back. Pick up a stick and break its legs!”  

Zhu Yingying couldn’t help but burst into laughter at her string of ridiculous logic, the gloom of the past few days instantly dissipating.  

The two chatted and laughed as they tidied up the house.  

First, they worked together to haul the stove and coal briquettes piled at the entrance inside. Then, they arranged the newly bought pots, pans, tablecloths, and bedsheets.  

In less than an hour, the once cold and barren room—which had looked more like a military barracks—was completely transformed into a cozy, rustic haven.  

The wooden furniture was draped with white floral fabric, layered over white georgette and lace. Canned jars served as vases, filled with wildflowers Zhou Qiqi had picked outside the military housing area—tiny blossoms dotting the space with life.  

When the wind blew in, the sheer curtains fluttered gently, carrying the faint fragrance of flowers—both beautiful and soothing.  

“So pretty!”  

Zhu Yingying excitedly looked around, her eyes wide with amazement.  

Suddenly, she turned and noticed the small room where Shen Huaichuan had rested the night before—completely different from the rest of the house, still cold and bare, with no decorations at all.  

“This little room…”  

Zhou Qiqi coughed lightly, her face instantly turning red with embarrassment.  

“I… don’t want anyone staying in this room, so let’s just leave it as is. No need to decorate it. If it’s too comfortable, we’ll never get rid of them.”  

If this room is too cozy, what if someone gets used to staying here every day?

Quickly changing the subject, she urged, “Come here and help me measure the windows. Later, I’ll buy some more fabric to make curtains for the bedroom, and maybe get some cabinets and furniture too.”  

With that, the two hurried into the bedroom.  

But neither of them noticed—someone had quietly appeared in the courtyard at some point, listening intently to every word they said.

After listening, his face darkened instantly, and he turned to leave.

“Yingying, did you hear something just now?”  

Zhou Qiqi faintly detected the sound of leather shoes stepping in the courtyard, but when she turned to look, no one was there. She glanced back at Zhu Yingying, who shook her head, so she didn’t dwell on it.  

The two of them busied themselves in the house for a while longer, and before they knew it, it was past five o’clock.  

In another half hour or so, the men who had been working hard all day in the military compound, along with the schoolchildren, would start returning home one after another.  

Zhu Yingying grabbed the slab of pork belly she had just bought and hurried back to her own place to cook.  

Zhou Qiqi casually threw on an old patched-up jacket and headed toward the stove.  

When Zhu Yingying had bought the meat, Zhou Qiqi had also picked up some vegetables, planning to make a delicious bowl of braised pork rice.  

First, she carefully arranged some crushed coal at the bottom of the stove, then tore newspaper into strips and struck a match with a scratch.  

After lighting the newspaper, she gently tossed it into the stove and sprinkled a handful of dry wood shavings on top to help the flames grow stronger.  

Once the fire was steadily burning, she unhurriedly placed a honeycomb briquette into the stove.  

Before long, the coal glowed red-hot. She used a pair of fire tongs to stack a fresh briquette on top, ensuring the fire would stay strong and wouldn’t die out.  

The entire process was smooth and practiced—clearly the work of someone who knew what they were doing.  

These cooking skills weren’t inherited from the original owner’s memories but were Zhou Qiqi’s own hard-earned experience.  

Before transmigrating, she had just started volunteering as a teacher in a remote mountainous area where the power grid was unstable, so cooking relied entirely on coal stoves.  

Local girls as young as seven or eight were experts at cooking with coal, and they had personally taught her how to do it.  

While waiting for the coal to heat up, Zhou Qiqi grabbed an onion and tap-tap-tapped it into fine pieces.  

After all, the soul of braised pork rice lay in the onions.  

The diced onions were fried in the pan over low heat until golden and translucent, then set aside.  

Next, she tossed in the diced pork belly and mushrooms, stir-frying until the aroma filled the air. Then she added the crispy fried onions and let everything simmer on low heat until the meat was tender and flavorful.  

As it cooked, the golden, crispy onions gradually softened, turned translucent, and eventually melted into the sauce—the rich, mouthwatering scent wafting through the air, making anyone who smelled it instantly hungry.  

While the meat simmered, Zhou Qiqi boiled three eggs, lightly cracked their shells, and tossed them into the braising liquid.  

A large pot of white rice steamed atop the iron wok, and soon, the delicious fragrance of the meal drifted out of the courtyard.  

It was dinnertime, and after a long day of work, people were hurrying home.  

Battalion Commander Zhao Yi of the 1st Battalion, 3rd Regiment, happened to run into Regiment Commander Wang Tiejun of the 4th Regiment on the way.  

Zhao Yi—Qiu Chunfang’s husband—was a man in his forties, thin as a bamboo pole, looking like a strong gust of wind could blow him away.  

The moment he caught that tantalizing aroma, he froze in place as if hit by a paralysis spell, sniffing the air like a dog catching the scent of a bone.  

His eyes darted around before landing on Commander Wang beside him. Unable to resist, he asked,  

“Damn, what is that smell? So fragrant! I’ve never smelled meat this tempting before. Commander Wang, did your wife learn how to cook? You’re in for a treat!”  

Wang Tiejun, thirty-five years old, had a steady and mature demeanor that made him look nearly a decade older than his actual age.  

He had also caught the scent, but he merely shook his head lightly and replied flatly, “Impossible. Must be your family cooking today.”  

Without another word, he strode toward his own courtyard, the lunchbox in his mesh bag swaying with each step.  

The moment Wang Tiejun pushed open his door, sure enough, the pungent smell of burnt food assaulted his nose.  

And there was the culprit—his wife, Zhu Yingying, her hair a tangled bird’s nest, her face smeared with soot like a little tabby cat, biting her lip with red-rimmed eyes, looking like she was about to cry.  

“It’s fine. I brought food back. Go wash your face first.”  

Wang Tiejun’s expression remained calm, his tone indifferent as he closed the door behind him.  

But his deep voice carried, and Zhao Yi heard every word outside.  

Zhao Yi grinned inwardly. “Well, that smell definitely isn’t from Commander Wang’s place—so it must be mine!”

A few officers who lived in the apartment building across from the courtyard were smoking and chatting downstairs. Hearing Zhao Yi’s words, they couldn’t help but swallow their saliva.  

“So fragrant! Who knew Sister Qiu had such skills?”  

“So envious!”  

Finally, that woman’s done something to make me look good!

Listening to the murmurs of admiration, Zhao Yi felt a surge of pride. Chest puffed out like a victorious general, he pushed open his own courtyard gate with great flourish.