In the Zhao family’s courtyard, a slightly worn-out dining table had already been set, the dishes on it covered with bamboo food covers.  

Qiu Chunfang had sharp eyes. From afar, she spotted Zhao Yi’s scrawny figure shuffling over and immediately raised her voice to shout outside.  

“Yimeng, Ermeng, Sanmeng, Simeng, Yaozu! Stop fooling around out there—your dad’s back! Hurry up and come home for dinner!”  

At her call, the five little radishes playing outside bolted in like a pack of excited rabbits. Four girls and one boy, all as skinny as Zhao Yi himself.  

Their noses twitched like sensitive little radars, sniffing eagerly for the scent of food.  

“Mom, did you stew meat? It smells so good!” The youngest, Yaozu, tilted his grimy little face upward, eyes sparkling with anticipation. His lips smacked unconsciously, as if he could already taste the meat.  

Before Qiu Chunfang could answer, Zhao Yi eagerly rubbed his hands together and yanked off the food covers. The kids immediately crowded around.  

But the next second, everyone froze. There wasn’t a single trace of meat on the table—just a large, pale-looking pot of cabbage and potatoes, some smashed cucumbers, and steamed buns that had been reheated multiple times.  

Zhao Yi deflated like a punctured balloon, his enthusiasm instantly gone. He raised his voice in complaint.  

“How come it’s the same old stuff again? Where’s the meat? Where is it?”  

Not from Commander Wang’s family, and not from theirs either. So where was that mouthwatering smell coming from?  

Zhao Yi’s gaze involuntarily shifted toward the neighboring Shen household, just in time to see Shen Huaihuan returning home, dust still clinging to his clothes.  

From inside the house came a crisp, sweet voice.  

“You’re back? My braised pork rice is just ready. Go wash your hands—I’ll serve it right away.”  

The voice was as clear and melodious as a lark’s, making Zhao Yi’s heart itch with envy. He glanced at the bland spread on his own table and instantly lost his appetite.  

Frowning, he grumbled at Qiu Chunfang.  

“Didn’t you say Commander Shen’s new wife was some lazy, gluttonous country bumpkin? Seems to me she’s plenty virtuous—knows to cook meat for her man on the very first day. Not like you, who served cabbage and potatoes on our first day together, and still serving it now…”  

The moment the words left his mouth, Qiu Chunfang’s face darkened. She slammed the table with a loud smack, making the dishes rattle.  

“What’s wrong with cabbage and potatoes? With so many mouths to feed and your measly monthly allowance, if you want better, why don’t you climb the ranks like Commander Shen and bring home more money?”  

“And why are there so many mouths to feed? Because you were dead set on having a son!”  

Zhao Yi’s temper flared too, his face reddening as he snapped back.  

“Oh, so it’s my fault now, Zhao Yi? After I slaved away, wiping asses and changing diapers to carry on your Zhao family’s lineage, this is the thanks I get?”  

Qiu Chunfang’s chest heaved with rage, hands planted on her hips like a fighting hen.  

This household was always noisy—small squabbles every couple of days, big fights every five. The neighbors were used to it by now, treating it as routine.  

A few officers nearby turned their attention toward the Shen residence in the middle, murmuring among themselves.  

“So it’s Commander Shen’s new wife cooking meat?”  

All day, rumors had been swirling around the military compound about the “Cold-Faced King of Hell” carrying a new bride home. No one had believed it—until now.  

Meanwhile, Shen Huaichuan stood frozen in place.  

When he had reached the door, he too had caught that intoxicating aroma.  

But ever since he was ten, his memories of home had been of an icy, lifeless place—silent, cold, and desolate.  

No scent of food, no trace of human warmth. Just stillness, as if time itself had stopped there.  

His parents were always busy with military duties or searching for his missing older brother. His second brother had enlisted early and joined a classified unit.  

He had been living independently since the age of ten.  

It never even crossed his mind that the tantalizing aroma of meat could be coming from his own home.  

But unexpectedly…  

Seeing him still standing dumbfounded at the door, Zhou Qiqi called out in her crisp voice, “What are you spacing out for? Come in already!”  

Shen Huaichuan’s throat moved imperceptibly as he swallowed an inexplicable emotion, responding softly, “Coming.”  

By the time he finished washing his hands and stepped inside, the meal had already been neatly laid out on the table.  

Fluffy white rice, richly colored braised pork, deeply marinated soy eggs, and tender chopped greens.  

The aroma of the braised pork was intoxicating—even more fragrant than the dishes made by the canteen chefs.  

Unable to hold back, Shen Huai’lchuan asked, “Did you make all this?”  

“Of course!”  

Zhou Qiqi nodded proudly, then gestured around the house before pointing at herself.  

“I also took care of all the decorations. What do you think?”  

Shen Huaichuan was an expert in reconnaissance—during missions, he could detect even the subtlest changes in his surroundings within seconds.  

But just now, his attention, his thoughts, had been completely captured by the woman in the red dress who had cooked this meal for him.  

Though he knew the house had undergone major changes, he hadn’t actually taken a careful look at the details.  

Now, prompted by Zhou Qiqi’s question, his gaze followed her pointing finger before finally settling on her.  

The tips of his ears reddened slightly as he murmured, “It looks nice.”  

“I think so too—this kind of home is really lovely.”  

Zhou Qiqi had been busy all afternoon and was already starving. She didn’t notice Shen Huaichuan’s expression as she handed him a spoon and said,  

“Eat while it’s hot. This is my specialty.”  

Braised pork rice was best enjoyed with a big scoop—mixing the meat, rice, and greens together in one bite. The savory richness of the sauce, the mild sweetness of the rice, and the deep umami of the braised pork blended perfectly on the tongue, creating an indescribable satisfaction.  

Zhou Qiqi devoured her plate in no time, leaving only the egg yolk in her hand.  

She had never liked egg yolks, but she couldn’t bear to waste food.  

Normally, she would feed them to stray cats, but this time, she instinctively held it out to Shen Huaichuan. “Do you want it?”  

Shen Huaichuan was holding his bowl and chopsticks, about to get up and wash the dishes—he had no free hand to take it.  

Seeing this, Zhou Qiqi didn’t think twice. Without hesitation, she brought the yolk to his lips, waiting for him to open his mouth.  

The farm egg’s yolk wasn’t large, but when Shen Huaichuan opened his mouth in surprise, he ended up not only taking in the yolk but also inadvertently enveloping Zhou Qiqi’s two slender fingertips.  

Shen Huaichuan stiffened instantly, his initial instinct to pull back freezing mid-motion as his tongue lightly brushed against her fingers.  

The gesture wasn’t exactly provocative, but it was undeniably intimate.  

Both of them trembled slightly as if struck by an electric current, their hearts pounding wildly.  

Yet just as this unspoken tension flowed between them, a stern, angry voice suddenly cut through the moment from outside the courtyard.  

“What are you two doing? Getting all lovey-dovey in broad daylight—have you forgotten there’s still a child outside with no one looking after them?”