Chapter 35 A Man Full of Fighting Spirit

A wild pheasant normally weighs about three jin (around 1.5 kg), so once broken down, each portion wasn’t much. But when Ming Leyao stewed the chicken, she added plenty of ingredients, and the resulting bowl of soup was full and hearty. Taking out a large bowl, she picked out a good amount of meat, added some mushrooms and potatoes, and ladled the rich soup over it. It looked delicious and appetizing.

“You eat first, I’ll take some to Fourth Uncle and Auntie.”

“I’ll wait for you,” Fu Wencheng insisted.

Ming Leyao didn’t argue and put two bowls into her basket, heading toward the cowshed.

The cowshed was now where Fourth Uncle’s family lived. It wasn’t the dreaded place it once was in the production team.

“Fourth Uncle, Auntie.”

“Oh? Leyao?”

The modest grass hut had been tidied up well. Fourth Uncle had even made a fence with branches, and outside there was a simple stove. Auntie was there making pancakes.

“Auntie, cooking?”

“Yes, have you eaten yet, Leyao? Why don’t you stay for a meal at Auntie’s?”

“No need, I’ve already eaten. I went up the mountain today and had some luck, so I brought some for you.”

She pulled Auntie inside and placed the bowl on the table.

“This… is… chicken?”

“Auntie, keep it down. It’s wild pheasant, caught on the mountain. Don’t let anyone know, or your niece here might get arrested and ‘educated’.”

“Yes, yes, quiet, quiet.”

“The pheasant’s small, not much meat, but still a bit of meat. I put plenty of mushrooms and potatoes inside; it should be enough for your family of four.”

“Leyao, I should be the elder taking care of you, but here you are taking care of me.”

“Auntie, don’t be so formal. We’re family; taking care of each other is what we should do. Besides, Fourth Uncle has been working hard all day; if he doesn’t get some nourishment, how can his body handle it? Don’t keep pushing me away, Auntie—it won’t look good if others see.”

“Auntie understands.”

“Well, you all eat first. I’ll be going back now.”

“Should I have Xiao Jiang walk you back?”

“She’s even younger than me. If she walks me back, I have to walk her back afterward. We’d waste the whole evening just escorting each other around. I know the village well, Auntie, it’s fine.”

“All right. If you need anything, come find Auntie. I’m not much, but there’s also your Fourth Uncle.”

“Got it, Auntie.” Ming Leyao waved off the offer and headed home.

In the kitchen, Fu Wencheng laid out the dishes neatly and sat up straight like a statue, motionless. Hearing the door, he snapped back to attention and stood to greet her.

“Don’t move, just eat.”

“Do we have enough rice? If not, I have some ration tickets you can use to buy more.”

“We have enough.” When Cui Ying came over before, he brought a big sack. Plus what Ming Leyao had in her space and some occasional buys outside to avoid suspicion, the rice at home was never short.

“If you need more, tell me.”

Ming Leyao paused while serving rice and casually asked, “Don’t you think it’s a bit pretentious for me to eat fine rice every meal?”

“Huh? Why would eating fine rice be pretentious?”

“In the whole production team, it’s not just eating fine rice every meal; having it once a year is a luxury.”

“You’re different from others,” Fu Wencheng’s voice was soft but each word fell like raindrops on Ming Leyao’s heart.

“I’m human too. Why would I be different?”

Ming Leyao didn’t know what answer she wanted but felt the sentence wasn’t what she truly hoped for.

“I don’t care about others. I like you being delicate — the more delicate, the better.”

Fu Wencheng said this, then buried his head in his bowl, not daring to look at her. Ming Leyao’s fair face was already flushed.

They both focused on eating, no words spoken, yet the air between them was thick with unspoken affection — without any awkwardness.

After the meal, Fu Wencheng stood to clear the bowls, wash dishes, tidy the kitchen, sweep the floor, and fold clothes — efficient and conscientious work. But his sun-kissed face stayed rosy, which Ming Leyao found amusing. What a pure-hearted man.

Ming Leyao went about her daily routine—work and cooking at home, blending in quietly. Their home was a bit secluded, so besides close ones, few people visited, letting Fu Wencheng hide quietly for three days. The scabs on his wounds gradually fell off, revealing new pink flesh underneath.

“Will it leave scars?”

“Why, can’t it leave scars?”

“…Better not.”

Ming Leyao knew if he said that, it was because of his duties. Silently, she took out an ointment and gently applied it to his wounds. As she did, Fu Wencheng suddenly grabbed her soft hand. Ming Leyao jumped, looked up into his deep black eyes… In those eyes, waves surged like a storm, as if ready to swallow her whole the next second.

“You…”

“I… I’ll do it myself.”

Fu Wencheng took the ointment box, scooped some out, and applied it himself. Calmly, as if the earlier moment had never happened.

Only he knew how that small hand had ignited a fire inside him. If his self-control hadn’t been so strong, who knows…

Since Ming Leyao let him do it, her mind kept flashing back to those eyes full of complex emotions, making her mouth dry and tongue-tied. She got up to drink water outside.

At night, before sleep, Fu Wencheng checked his wound and found that the scar was now just a faint trace, almost invisible unless closely inspected.

He was shocked but filled with fighting spirit. His current position was still too low; he probably couldn’t protect her properly yet. He needed to keep striving, climbing higher…

Little did he know, if others heard that, they might curse him for bragging.

At only twenty-two, he was a regimental commander, unmatched nationwide, and he still called himself low-ranking and hardworking? Was he leaving others any chance?

Ming Leyao, still sleepy, came out of the house, her mind fuzzy. She’d had all sorts of dreams the night before, some embarrassing, all involving that man, making her feel a bit sluggish in the morning.

Just as she was about to open the door and step into the yard, someone pulled the door open from outside…

Sharp brows, refined but hidden strength, a high nose bridge, thin lips, chiseled features like a finely sculpted statue, eight-pack abs, broad shoulders and narrow waist…

Water droplets rolled down from his hair tips, trailing along his long neck, brushing past the cold and sharp Adam’s apple…