With a pop, the light bulb flickered out, and darkness surged like a tide, instantly swallowing the entire bathroom.

Steam swirled in the pitch-black space. Zhou Qiqi’s eyelashes fluttered lightly as she bit her lip and grumbled under her breath, “Of all times for a blackout… I didn’t even get to see the important part…”

Before she could finish, Shen Huaichuan’s soap-scented warmth enveloped her. His long fingers reached past her shoulder, and a drop of water from his damp hair landed precisely on the back of her hand. The icy sensation made her shiver involuntarily.

“Your head—” Shen Huaichuan’s deep voice cut through the darkness, carrying a faint, husky undertone.

“I wasn’t peeking! Absolutely not!” Zhou Qiqi reflexively shrieked, her ears—already flushed from the steam—now burning as if about to drip blood. “I just couldn’t find the basin for my dirty clothes! I was looking for it! Don’t get the wrong idea…” Her voice trailed off, the end tinged with a softness even she didn’t notice.

A low chuckle came from above her, like suppressed electricity, sending a tingle down her spine.

“No misunderstanding,” Shen Huaichuan said deliberately slowly, a hint of teasing in his tone. “I just wanted you to move aside.”

Zhou Qiqi instinctively looked up and saw his clothes hanging on the clothesline right above her head. Flustered, she sidestepped, her gaze catching the small enamel basin on the sink—the very one she’d been searching for! But when she got closer, the basin was empty. The clothes that had been soaking inside were gone.

“Where are my clothes?”

Stamping her foot in frustration, she turned—only to collide with a warm, solid chest.

Shen Huaichuan looked down at her, his Adam’s apple bobbing unnaturally, the tips of his ears tinged with a suspicious red.

“I washed them. They’re hanging on the clothesline in the backyard.”

Zhou Qiqi’s eyes widened in disbelief. Without another word, she dashed outside.

There, swaying gently in the breeze, was her familiar pink underwear. A rush of heat instantly flooded her face. Humiliated and furious, she stormed back inside and unleashed her temper on Shen Huaichuan.

“How could you wash them without asking me? Since you love doing laundry so much, why don’t you just take care of all the laundry in this house from now on?”

“Alright.”

Shen Huaichuan’s reply was crisp, a glimmer of amusement in his dark eyes.

This guy… can’t even tell when I’m being sarcastic!

Zhou Qiqi gritted her teeth in frustration, but then she noticed the bright red tips of his ears. A mischievous idea popped into her head. Leaning close, she deliberately drawled in a sweet, coquettish voice, “Thank you… hubby.”

“Cough—!”

Shen Huaichuan, who had been drinking water, choked violently. Droplets slid down his jawline, dampening the front of his undershirt.

Zhou Qiqi covered her mouth, stifling a laugh as she watched him flounder. But when she handed him a towel, her gaze caught on a vicious bruise marring his back. The purplish-black mark stood out starkly against his sun-kissed skin, like a freshly scabbed wound.

“How did you get this?”

Her fingertips lightly traced the injury, her voice softening unconsciously.

“Just a minor scrape. It’s nothing.”

Shen Huaichuan brushed it off casually.

That afternoon, while working, a platoon leader had slipped while moving pipes. Without a second thought, Shen Huaichuan had rushed over and shoved the man out of harm’s way—only to take the hit himself.

“Why didn’t you say anything sooner? What’s the point of having a mouth if you don’t use it?”

Zhou Qiqi’s eyes burned, but she masked it with feigned anger, swatting his back before turning to rummage through the first aid kit.

Despite the large wound, Shen Huaichuan didn’t make a sound as she applied the medicine.

Once she was done, he pulled out bedding from the closet, preparing to sleep on the floor.

“Get on the bed!”

Zhou Qiqi snatched the bedding from him and forcefully spread it out on the bed, even pinning the corner down with her leg.

“The floor’s damp and hard. You’re injured—are you trying to kill yourself by sleeping down there?”

Shen Huaichuan stared at the faint redness around her eyes, his Adam’s apple bobbing again before he obediently climbed onto the bed.

The faint creak of the bed frame echoed unusually loud in the silent night.

They lay back-to-back, an ambiguous tension lingering in the air.

“By the way,” Shen Huaichuan broke the silence first, his voice carrying a trace of tenderness, “the bonus from the last mission came through.”

“I’ll give it to you tomorrow. Go into town and buy yourself some new clothes.”

While doing laundry earlier, he’d noticed that aside from one red polka-dot dress, all her other clothes were worn-out and patched up.

His words struck a chord with Zhou Qiqi. Her eyes lit up, and she abruptly turned over, her hair brushing against his arm.

“Ah! I was just about to talk to you about this!”

“I want to set up a small stall and try my hand at selling clothes. What do you think?”

By now, she had mostly adjusted to life in the military housing area. With the new bathroom and shower facilities built, things were much more convenient.

While showering earlier, she’d been mulling over the idea—it was time to find something to do.

In her past life, she’d majored in fashion design in college and had always wanted to put her knowledge to use.

A few days ago, when she’d stepped out of the train station, she’d noticed several vendors selling goods without being chased off. That meant the policies in G City were relatively relaxed.

Shen Huaichuan watched the excitement on her profile, his heartbeat skipping unconsciously.

He didn’t hesitate. “Sure, whatever you want. If you’re short on money, just let me know.”

Warmth flooded Zhou Qiqi’s chest, but she shook her head.

“Ah, no need for household money! I’ve got a hundred yuan saved up—that’s more than enough for startup costs. If I lose it all, I’ll write you an IOU.”

In her mind, even though she and Shen Huaichuan were married, she had to maintain financial independence. This was her own venture—she couldn’t mix it up with family funds.

Shen Huaichuan stiffened slightly at her words, lost in thought.

Meanwhile, Zhou Qiqi, facing away from him, was already deep in her plans, chattering away.

“There’s a wholesale clothing market near the train station. Tomorrow morning, I’ll hitch a ride on the supply truck and check it out.”

“Aside from buying ready-made clothes, I also want to get some fabric and try making my own. Yingying’s family has a sewing machine!”

“Too bad she’s busy tomorrow and can’t come with me. It’s Sunday—what could she possibly be doing?”

“Oh, right, since it’s Sunday, Zhouzhou doesn’t have school either. She—”

At the mention of Zhouzhou, she hesitated, biting her lower lip.

Shen Huaichuan picked up the thread. “It’s time for Zhouzhou’s treatment. I’ll drop her off before heading to the base tomorrow.”

Qiqi immediately sat up, the rustling of the bedding loud in the quiet room.

“How about we skip it this time? I’ll take her into the city with me tomorrow. It’d be lonely going alone—what do you think?”

“Mm, up to you.”

Shen Huaichuan paused, then nodded lightly.

He’d never been fully on board with the acupuncture treatments in the first place—it was only at his parents’ insistence that he’d reluctantly agreed.

After so many sessions, there’d been no improvement.

Maybe it was for the best to skip it.

But he had a meeting at the base tomorrow and couldn’t look after Zhouzhou.

As for Director Zhou… given the awkwardness last time, it wouldn’t be right to send her there again.

“I’ll have Shitou borrow a car from the regiment tomorrow to take you two into town.”

“That’s perfect! Then I can buy more stuff!”

Satisfied, Qiqi lay back down, her voice brimming with anticipation and a sleepy nasality.

“You have no idea—none of those clothes are wearable. That red dress? Xu Shu’s mom only bought it because she wanted her son’s wedding to look decent. She gritted her teeth just to…”

Her words grew slower, dissolving into fragmented murmurs carried by the night breeze.

Shen Huaichuan listened quietly. After a long pause with no continuation, a soft snore suddenly reached his ears.

He blinked, turning to look in the moonlight.

There she was—head tilted, hair strewn messily across the pillow, lips still curved mid-sentence.

The sternness in his eyes and the furrow in his brow softened instantly. Gently, he pulled the blanket over her, then carefully slipped out of bed.

He headed straight for the backyard—and that red dress swaying in the wind.