Chapter 19

Lu Cheng still couldn’t quite believe it as he sat down at the square table, gazing at the two large platters piled high with plump, white dumplings.

Wen Ning and the three members of the Lu family each took a side of the table, their appetites whetted by the sight of the dumplings.

Lu Kanglei and Lu Kangyun, now under her thumb, had become perfect little helpers. Like most village children their age, they were used to hard work, and their dumplings were plump and perfectly round.

Lu Kangyun’s dough, made with Rich Flour, was smooth and elastic, while Lu Kanglei’s filling of minced pork, mushrooms, and cabbage was fragrant and savory. When boiled, the aroma filled the room.

“How did you all end up making dumplings together today?” Lu Cheng asked after swallowing two dumplings, the savory taste still lingering on his tongue. Despite the delicious meal, he remained suspicious.

“Xiao Lei and Xiao Yun offered to help me,” Wen Ning replied with a cheerful smile.

The Lu family’s eyes twitched at Wen Ning’s casual use of “Xiao Lei” and “Xiao Yun.” How strange.

Lu Cheng glanced at his younger siblings, his eyes questioning them.

Lu Kanglei darted a look at his older brother, then at the “bad woman” on the other side of the table. Resigned to his fate, he mumbled, “Yeah, we helped our sister-in-law with the work.”

Lu Cheng nearly thought he’d misheard. Xiao Lei had actually called Wen Ning “Sister-in-law”?

Has the sun risen in the west today?

Not only that, but after dinner, Xiao Lei and Xiao Yun voluntarily washed the dishes before leaving, behaving so well that Lu Cheng, rarely acting the understanding older brother, seized the opportunity to question them privately while Wen Ning returned to her room.

“What’s gotten into you two today?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” Lu Kangyun quickly replied, worried his younger brother might spill the beans. “Big Brother, we’ve come to our senses. Sister-in-law will always be Sister-in-law.”

Under Lu Cheng’s sharp gaze, Lu Kanglei could only nod reluctantly. “That’s right.”

Still unwilling to stay overnight, the two brothers returned to their aunt’s house at dusk, leaving Lu Cheng utterly astonished.

Perhaps I’ve underestimated Wen Ning. She’s quite capable.

By the end of October, a biting wind swept through L Province, dropping temperatures even further.

The heated kang beneath Wen Ning grew increasingly warm, much to her satisfaction.

She had never experienced such a cozy way to sleep before. No need for heavy quilts piled upon quilts—even after returning indoors, she remained comfortably warm, her body enveloped in a soothing heat.

On the last day of the month, the icy wind carried swirling snowflakes that dotted the courtyard. Leaning against the doorframe, Wen Ning watched Lu Cheng return home through the snow-dusted wind, his military overcoat dusted with white.

The tall man’s shoulders and sleeves were sprinkled with snow, its purity accentuated by his olive-green coat. Lu Cheng shook off the coat before entering, then looked up to find Wen Ning watching him with a teasing smile.

“What?” Lu Cheng’s rare composure crumbled under Wen Ning’s gaze. With anyone else, he could have waited silently for an explanation, but Wen Ning’s eyes seemed to hold starlight, her smile mischievous.

Wen Ning didn’t answer, only smiled at him. She tiptoed closer, leaning forward, and her pale fingers brushed his sword-like eyebrows. “This snow really knows where to land,” she murmured. “It’s all over Commander Lu’s eyebrows.”

As she moved, Lu Cheng caught a delicate fragrance. Their closeness tightened his throat, and he growled softly, “Don’t be so… handsy.”

Wen Ning pouted, undeterred. “I’m just helping you!”

Lu Cheng: “…”

Lu Cheng also brought home a crucian carp. Though small, it was a precious treat—at least it was meat.

The fish, tied with grass rope around his finger, flopped wildly against the floor, causing Wen Ning to step back.

“Go clean the fish quickly,” she said, already planning the meal. “Let’s make fish soup. It’s perfect for this weather—nice and warming.”

Realizing she had no intention of cooking, Lu Cheng said nothing more. He turned and rolled up his sleeves to prepare the fish soup himself.

Wen Ning silently watched him from behind, recalling how the Great General had once been ambushed and wounded while saving her. She’d delivered fish soup every day for a month to show her gratitude, despite being refused entry each time.

Lu Cheng had matured early and joined the army as a teenager, mastering various survival skills. He was equally adept at cooking, handling ingredients with ease.

A small pot of fragrant fish soup bubbled gently on the stove. The pure white broth, infused with the delicate flavor of crucian carp, released an enticing aroma, especially welcome on such a chilly day. Just a glance at it made one’s mouth water.

“It smells wonderful,” Wen Ning said, striving to maintain her composure as a princess. “Regimental Commander Lu, you truly are skilled both in the hall and in the kitchen.”

She had learned this phrase from Sister Huang in the courtyard. Sister Huang had used it to praise Jiang Rong, who was adored by the military wives for being gentle, virtuous, generous, and capable.

Lu Cheng’s eyelid twitched at the compliment. Was this really something you said to a grown man?

He pressed his thin lips together, silent.

Lu Kanglei and Lu Kangyun were still staying with their aunt. After the house was allocated, Lu Cheng had wanted them to return, but the aunt insisted on keeping them—partly for company, but mostly to give the young couple space to enjoy their newlywed life and hopefully start a family.

The house felt a bit empty, but thankfully the heated kang kept it warm.

On his way back, Lu Cheng had run into Deputy Director He from the women’s affairs office. Beaming, she praised Wen Ning’s talent and drawing skills.

But her tone unsettled Lu Cheng. He sensed there were hidden meanings beneath her words.

His dark eyes lingered on Wen Ning for a moment, as if trying to decipher her demeanor. But she remained focused on her meal, completely absorbed in eating and drinking the soup.

He couldn’t quite name the feeling stirring within him, but he felt increasingly unable to understand Wen Ning.

“Are you preparing the propaganda posters?” Lu Cheng asked suddenly.

Wen Ning’s lips, glistening with soup, parted slightly. She nodded. “Yes, I’ve finished them. Director Yang will arrange for them to be printed.”

“Good. It’s commendable that you’re contributing to the collective.” Lu Cheng felt she was finally developing a sense of public service.

“It’s mainly for the reward,” Wen Ning said.

No sooner had Lu Cheng finished speaking than she eagerly added, “Guess what it is!”

Her raven-feather lashes fluttered, and her peach blossom eyes sparkled like luminous gems. “Pork! Director Yang promised me two liang of streaky pork.”

Lu Cheng: “…”

He had just praised her for her newfound sense of purpose, only to realize she was still motivated by meat. Could someone like this really be a spy?

“I’ve decided,” Wen Ning continued. “Drawing is easy for me anyway. I’ll do it again if there’s another opportunity. Next time, I hope they give out cloth ration coupons. I want to make some new clothes—these coarse fabrics are so uncomfortable and scratchy.”

Lu Cheng’s ears ached. As he washed the dishes, he stared at Wen Ning, making her curious.

“Why are you staring at me?”

“You should attend some classes,” he said. “There’s a political education course in the residential compound. I’ll sign you up.”

Thankfully, she might still be redeemable. At least she hadn’t caused any trouble during the past two weeks.

Wen Ning: “?”

She had no intention of attending those classes. They sounded like nothing but trouble. After giving a perfunctory agreement, she remembered Lu Kanglei and Lu Kangyun.

Lu Kanglei had always been impulsive. Without proper guidance, he could easily go astray. Wen Ning decided to ask, “By the way, do you know who your brother hangs out with in class?”

Lu Cheng was surprised but answered casually, “Probably Deputy Regimental Commander Wang’s younger brother.” He’d seen Wang Hai visiting their aunt’s house several times.

“His brother looks quite sturdy and is said to be a good fighter,” Wen Ning remarked. “Is his older brother as strict with him as you are with Xiao Lei?”

“Deputy Regimental Commander Wang’s father passed away early. His mother raised them alone and later followed the army here. He’s a pretty easygoing guy—definitely not as strict as me,” Lu Cheng admitted.

As they chatted, Lu Cheng suddenly remembered something. “He went back to get married and bring his wife here. He should be back soon and living next door again. Xiao Lei will be happy. We’ll see if he wants to move back then.”

Living next door? Wen Ning instantly understood. So Wang Hai’s older brother and sister-in-law are the male and female leads from the original novel?

Early winter nights fell swiftly. Though it was barely past eight, the world outside the window was already pitch black, the howling wind sending shivers down her spine.

Wen Ning lay on the kang, clad in cotton pajamas and covered with a newly quilted cotton blanket. The relentless pounding of wind against the glass kept her awake, her mind buzzing with anticipation of the protagonists’ imminent arrival.

The storm intensified. Soon, the rhythmic patter of raindrops joined the wind’s fury. Wen Ning rose from the kang, groping in the darkness until her slender fingers found her enamel mug. It was empty—she’d forgotten to refill it.

Slipping on her slippers, she opened the door. A frigid draft pierced the room through every crack, like icy daggers scraping across her skin.

Wen Ning shivered, eager to fetch water and retreat indoors. She’d always dreaded such weather—it was downright terrifying.

A metal thermos stood against the wall. Wen Ning hurried toward it, but as her hand reached for the handle, a deafening thunderclap erupted, startling her into a momentary flinch.

The oppressive night sky seemed torn open, its dark clouds twisting into grotesque shapes. Accompanied by flashes of lightning and the thunderous roar of the storm, wind and rain lashed against the wooden door and windows with a relentless rhythm.

Buried memories surged forth, Wen Ning’s face paling. The terror of being lost and shivering in a thunderstorm at six years old flooded back. She abandoned the water and the enamel mug.

Setting it down hastily, it clattered over, rolled twice, and came to rest. Wen Ning had already rushed to Lu Cheng’s door, pounding urgently.

Lu Cheng, a seasoned general accustomed to years of military campaigns, maintained a vigilant alertness even in sleep. Hearing the knocking amidst wind, rain, and thunder, he swiftly rose.

The knocks were light, accompanied by the mewling cry of “Lu Cheng” that tugged at his heart.

With a creak, the wooden door swung open. Wen Ning stood outside, her usually radiant face now pale and withered like an autumn leaf.

Only her eyes remained luminous, brimming with tears as she gazed at him, her entire world reflected in their depths.

“Lu Cheng, there’s thunder and lightning,” she murmured, relief washing over her at the sight of the Great General. Her soft hand tugged at his sleeve. “I want to sleep with you tonight.”