Chapter 4: He Thinks She’s a Bottomless Pit

Luo Yaqing carried her purchases home. She didn’t dwell on the minor incident earlier on the road, instead focusing on how to gain Han Zhixu’s trust—and perhaps his affection.

With the original host’s temperament, any man would have long grown tired and divorced her. How had Han Zhixu managed to endure it all this time? How much resentment had he bottled up inside?

Would he explode one day without warning?

If Han Zhixu ever wanted a divorce, it would be far easier for him than it would have been for the original Luo Yaqing.

Back home, Luo Yaqing first sorted the items she’d bought. After taking off her padded coat, she rolled up her sleeves and started cleaning the house.

She wanted to do whatever she could within her limits.

By dusk, smoke curled from chimneys as families started dinner. People came home from work or school one after another.

Luo Yaqing stood at the doorway like a little housewife, waiting in hopeful anticipation.

When the last streak of sunset faded from the sky, it wasn’t Han Zhixu she saw—but a young soldier.

“Sister-in-law, the commander asked me to bring this to you.”

Sweaty and slightly breathless from running, he handed her a mesh bag with lunchboxes inside.

“Uh… thank you!”

“No need to be polite, Sister-in-law!”

“Um, when will he…” Luo Yaqing glanced at the lunchboxes. “When will your commander be back…”

She looked up again—he was already gone.

Closing the door, Luo Yaqing opened the mesh bag and took out the food: stir-fried vermicelli with radish, pickled mustard greens, multigrain porridge, and steamed buns—enough for three people.

Was he afraid she’d starve to death?

The multigrain porridge was rough and unrefined, but Luo Yaqing could easily tolerate it.

In her previous life, to maintain her figure, she’d grown used to eating low-carb foods.

At 9:20 p.m., lights-out sounded at the military base. Ten minutes later, the power plant would shut off electricity.

The family compound had some exceptions.

Still, no one could withstand the winter cold for long. People washed up early, turned off the lights, and burrowed into their warm blankets.

Luo Yaqing lay in bed, staring blankly into the darkness outside the window. In her old world, she had died. The music world probably mourned her.

But not for long. They would forget her soon enough.

She had lost her parents early, had no family—who would remember someone like that?

She sighed deeply and closed her eyes to accept this new reality…

Half-asleep, Luo Yaqing vaguely heard a noise. She frowned and turned over to continue sleeping.

Then, the sound of rushing water reached her ears.

She abruptly sat up, still half-dazed. “Is it raining? Such heavy rain…”

She lifted the covers and slipped on her shoes, fumbling her way to the door. If the coal briquettes got wet, she wouldn’t be able to toast the buns.

She liked toasted buns.

“Did I wake you?”

The water stopped. A low, deep voice broke the silence.

Startled, Luo Yaqing instantly sobered. What she saw made her heart race.

Under the stark white light, Han Zhixu stood bare-chested—broad shoulders, narrow waist, firm muscles. Beads of water rolled across his bronze-toned chest and down his defined abs.

That body…

She gulped.

Han Zhixu was surprised to see Luo Yaqing come out, still sleepy. He felt a bit guilty for waking her.

“Y-You, you…” she stammered. That body, wow.

“Sorry, I—”

BANG!

The door slammed shut. Han Zhixu knew he’d upset her and quickly grabbed a dry towel to wipe off.

Just as he was about to dress, the bedroom door opened.

Han Zhixu looked up warily.

Luo Yaqing stepped out holding something. “Use this when you shower. It smells good.”

“…”

“It’s osmanthus-scented. I bought it just for you.”

She shoved a bar of soap into his hand.

He looked at it in surprise. He’d expected her to storm out and explode in anger. She’d always made a fuss over trivial things.

“I—”

Before he could say more, Luo Yaqing suddenly gasped, “Oh no, you’re injured!”

She pointed, and Han Zhixu looked down to see a 5.5 cm scar across his abs.

“It’s nothing.”

While impressed by her sharp eyesight, he responded calmly.

Injuries during training were common for soldiers. This one was barely visible unless you looked closely.

“How can it be nothing?!” Luo Yaqing protested, eyes locked on his eight-pack abs. “You’re being too careless with yourself. You have to understand—your body doesn’t just belong to you. It belongs to the country, to the people, to—”

I wonder what it feels like to touch…

She didn’t just think it—she actually reached out.

The cold air surged. Her curious hand brushed against firm, warm skin, igniting something primal.

“Enough!”

Han Zhixu’s Adam’s apple bobbed; his voice had turned hoarse.

Luo Yaqing snapped back to reality. Her hand froze where it was, palm resting against his skin.

Oh god. What… what did I just do?

She suddenly felt the urge to chop off her own hand. Awkwardly pulling it back, she forced a grin. “…I was counting your scars. You have so many… Uh, take your time showering. Good night!”

Then she bolted, escaping like a fugitive.

Han Zhixu stood there, confused by this strange encounter and the unexpected feelings it stirred.

In her room, Luo Yaqing was laughing under the covers, shaking with suppressed giggles.

She felt a rush of joy—half shame, half delight—at the advantage she’d just taken.

The next morning.

Luo Yaqing tiptoed to the door, only to find Han Zhixu already up, folding the blanket on his cot.

“Good morning!”

She smiled radiantly, her big eyes sparkling.

Han Zhixu looked a little stiff. “Breakfast will be ready later.”

“…”

He thinks I’m a bottomless pit, Luo Yaqing thought. I didn’t come to eat—I just wanted to chat.

She walked to the cupboard and opened it. “I bought quite a few things at the supply store yesterday.”

From inside, she took out peach crisps, eggs, matches, and a few new bowls.

Han Zhixu’s eyes landed on the small bamboo basket filled with eggs.

“Eggs were five cents each. I bought ten,” Luo Yaqing reported. “Matches were two cents… the peach crisps were forty-two cents a pound…”

She counted on her fingers, calculating the cost.

Han Zhixu wasn’t really concerned about the money.

What intrigued him was: how did she get the soap and eggs without the required ration coupons?

After listing the prices, Luo Yaqing took a peach crisp and walked over with a smile. “Here, have one.”

“No need. You keep it for yourself,” Han Zhixu declined coolly.

Luo Yaqing insisted, holding it up to his mouth with unwavering determination.

Han Zhixu sighed. “Who gave you the soap and egg coupons?”

“I’ll tell you after you eat the peach crisp,” she teased.

Han Zhixu thought to himself: This rare peace between them was worth maintaining—as long as she didn’t throw tantrums.

So, he took a bite from her hand, chewed, and swallowed.

“Now can you tell me?”

“After you finish it.”

“…”

Once he’d eaten the last bite, he looked at her expectantly.

“Uh… well, I bought them on credit at the supply store,” she admitted.

“Credit?” Han Zhixu frowned. As far as he knew, the store didn’t offer credit.

“I was short a few coupons when I paid. I gave them the money, and they agreed to let me bring the items home and leave the coupons for later…” she explained.

After hearing that, Han Zhixu reluctantly believed her. He reached under the mattress and pulled out a few ration tickets. “Return them as soon as you can.”

“Got it!” Luo Yaqing quickly agreed, taking the tickets and tucking them into her pocket.

“You’re a military family member—be mindful of your image. Don’t try to pull any strings out there,” Han Zhixu added seriously.

Luo Yaqing froze for a second, feeling a little guilty. The shopkeeper had indeed helped her because she was a soldier’s wife.