She lounged lazily on the bed, her fair legs swaying idly, occasionally kicking forward in an unrhythmic motion.  

Yan Ye slowly straightened up. The woman’s jet-black hair cascaded loosely behind her, her cardigan tied carelessly, its loose folds revealing glimpses of smooth, milky skin through the collar. His eyelids twitched involuntarily, and he hastily turned his back to her.  

“Fix your collar before you speak.”  

Xu Xiaoyue glanced down at her shirt. The weather was sweltering, and she had already undone the top button—though only a sliver of her collarbone was exposed. By later standards, this would still be considered modest.  

“No. It’s too hot. This is fine.” 

“Are you coming to eat or not?” Xu Xiaoyue stared at the man’s back and pressed the question again.  

“Ahem…” Before Yan Ye could refuse once more, a cough sounded at the door. The old man from earlier had returned.  

“Xiao Yan, the young lady has already asked you, yet you’re still acting coy like a bashful girl.”  

“Uncle Wang, don’t talk nonsense,” Yan Ye hurriedly denied.  

Xu Xiaoyue lightly touched the neatly bandaged wound on her head, then pushed herself up from the bed. “Uncle Wang, how much do I owe you for the treatment? I’ll pay.” 

With that, she reached for her bag—thankfully, Liu Ye had given her some money before she left, so she wouldn’t be left embarrassed now.  

Uncle Wang glanced at Yan Ye outside the door, as if sensing something unusual, and chuckled. “You’re being too formal, young lady. If you’re Xiao Yan’s sweetheart, why bother paying?”

Hearing this, Xu Xiaoyue shook her head vigorously. “Uncle Wang, you’ve misunderstood—” 

Before she could finish, Yan Ye cut in. “Weren’t you going to eat?”  

Xu Xiaoyue turned to the old man. “Uncle Wang, would you like to join us?” 

“These old bones of mine won’t intrude on you youngsters. Go on without me.”  

Seeing that Uncle Wang truly didn’t want to come, Xu Xiaoyue didn’t insist. She followed Yan Ye out the door.  

Just outside, a *Fenghuang* bicycle—the classic “28-inch” model—stood conspicuously at the alley’s entrance.  

“Leaving a bike just sitting out here… Aren’t you afraid it’ll get stolen?”  

As soon as Xu Xiaoyue muttered this, the man beside her shot her an odd look, then strode straight to the bicycle.  

His long legs, clad in military trousers, swung over the frame as he settled firmly onto the seat. Gripping the handlebars, he turned the bike around and pulled up right in front of her.  

“Get on.”  

Two simple words, and suddenly, Xu Xiaoyue understood the meaning behind his earlier glance.  

*In this day and age, who would dare steal a military man’s bike?*  

The alley’s path twisted and turned. At first, Xu Xiaoyue only held onto the hem of Yan Ye’s clothes, but gradually, her hands wandered to his waist.  

She even leaned in, pressing her nose against his back and sniffing lightly, her expression one of innocent curiosity. “You smell really good. What cologne do you wear?”

A vein pulsed at Yan Ye’s temple. The cool touch of her fingers against his waist was impossible to ignore, sending a rush of heat beneath his shirt.  

With one hand steadying the handlebars, he used the other to tug his shirt free. “If you can’t hold on properly, grab my clothes.” 

“Oh, fine.” Xu Xiaoyue pouted but stopped fidgeting, obediently clutching the fabric of his shirt instead.  

The signboard of the *”State-Run Restaurant”* loomed ahead in bold characters. Xu Xiaoyue let go and nimbly hopped off.  

Yan Ye glanced at her, then parked the bike to the side.  

Xu Xiaoyue stepped inside first, immediately hit by a wave of stifling heat. She wrinkled her nose—this era had no air conditioning, and the indoors were stuffy, thick with mingled scents.  

Xu Xiaoyue took two steps back. She had always been sensitive to smells, and if not for needing to treat someone to a meal, she would have turned and left immediately.  

“Why aren’t you going in?”  

Yan Ye walked up behind her, his gaze shifting to the small blackboard overhead listing the “Today’s Specials.”

Xu Xiaoyue rubbed her nose and stepped inside, too embarrassed to explain the real reason, afraid Yan Ye would think she is too delicate.  

“Welcome. What would you like to order? All our meat was freshly delivered this morning.”  

Yan Ye glanced at the woman beside him, her bowed head revealing a slender neck so delicate it seemed it might snap with a light squeeze. Her pale complexion made her look as though she hadn’t eaten properly in days.  

Before Xu Xiaoyue could speak, he listed several dishes: “Steamed perch, braised pork ribs, pig’s trotters stewed with goji berries…”  

All were light yet nourishing dishes. Xu Xiaoyue silently calculated the money in her pocket, praying the bill wouldn’t exceed her budget—otherwise, she’d have to stay and wash dishes to pay off the debt.  

The waiter scribbled on his notepad, then looked up at them. “Will there be four in your party? Would you like a private room?” 

Yan Ye raised an eyebrow. “Two. We’ll sit outside.”

The striking pair drew stares the moment they appeared.  

“Wang Jianhua, isn’t that man over there Regimental Commander Yan?” A few female performers from the cultural troupe craned their necks for a better look.  

Wang Jianhua, busy picking at his food, didn’t even glance up. “No way. Regimental Commander Yan is at home right now. Why would he come to a state-run restaurant?”

“But that profile looks exactly like him,” one woman whispered, scanning the room.  

Wang Jianhua set down his chopsticks and squinted. *Well, I’ll be damned—it really is him.*  

“Regimental Commander Yan?” he called out experimentally. To his surprise, the man turned.  

Xu Xiaoyue heard the call too. Her sharp memory instantly recognized him as the man who had hauled those traffickers to the police station at the train station.  

“Should we go over?” Yan Ye asked her.  

She nodded. She hadn’t had the chance to thank him properly last time, having left in such a hurry.  

“Regimental Commander Yan, you two…?” Wang Jianhua’s eyes flicked from Yan Ye to Xu Xiaoyue behind him.  

He’d already sensed something unusual between them on the train. Who’d have thought they’d run into each other again in Beijing?  

Xu Xiaoyue glanced at Yan Ye, then briefly recounted the incident in the alley.  

“Commander, you’ve got quite the luck with women,” Wang Jianhua muttered, nudging Yan Ye with his elbow. “Beijing’s huge, yet you just *happened* to bump into her.”  

Yan Ye shot him a dark look. “Keep talking nonsense, and you’ll be running an extra 10 kilometers with a weighted pack when we get back.”  

Xu Xiaoyue, wholly focused on eating, missed the exchange entirely.  

Wang Jianhua—never one to hold his tongue—eyed the spread of nourishing dishes and couldn’t resist adding,  

“Perch, pork ribs, goji berries… Who ordered all these tonics? Someone feeling *weak*…?”  

Xu Xiaoyue nearly choked. She peeked at Yan Ye, whose expression had turned thunderous.  

“Wang Jianhua,” Yan Ye said, setting down his chopsticks, “you’ll carry 20 pounds of gear and run 15 kilometers later. I’ll supervise personally.” 

Wang Jianhua wanted to howl in despair. Back at the base, everyone joked about Regimental Commander Yan and women all the time—why was *this* one such a touchy subject?  

“It’s *you*?!” 

A clear, sharp voice rang out from the next table, its owner staring straight at Xu Xiaoyue.