Wang Jianhua had merely mentioned Xu Xiaoyue casually, and just like that, the 15-kilometer run was bumped up to 20 kilometers.  

He wanted to argue back, but when he met the man’s expressionless face, he forced out an awkward laugh and finally understood.  

Ruan Wei emerged from the restroom as well. Seeing that Xu Xiaoyue—the annoying presence—was no longer at the dining table, her mood improved considerably.  

Noticing the two men finishing their meal and preparing to leave, Ruan Wei swayed her hips in imitation of Xu Xiaoyue’s walk and chased after them to the front door.  

She cleared her throat and stopped Yan Ye, carefully choosing her words. “Regimental Commander Yan, are you heading back to the barracks? I happen to have urgent business to attend to there as well. Could I ride with you?” 

Wang Jianhua turned to look at Yan Ye, but the man acted as if he hadn’t heard Ruan Wei at all.  

*This* was the Yan Ye he knew—one who kept women at a firm distance.  

When Yan Ye didn’t respond, Ruan Wei grew anxious. Normally, unless there was a major performance, the cultural troupe rarely had the chance to interact with him in the barracks.  

It had already been two months since their last meeting. If she didn’t seize this opportunity now, who knew when the next chance would come?  

After only a second of hesitation, she stepped forward and tugged at the man’s sleeve. “Regimental Commander Yan, I’m truly in a hurry. Could you please give me a ride?”  

Yan Ye took two steps back, evading her grasp, and replied coldly, “If you’re in a hurry, go with Wang Jianhua.”

Ruan Wei didn’t process his words immediately and assumed he had agreed. Delighted, she climbed into the back seat, gazing expectantly at the man outside the window, already planning how to make her move during the trip.  

Wang Jianhua rolled down the car window. “Regimental Commander Yan, where are you sitting?”  

Yan Ye didn’t answer. Instead, he wheeled out the bicycle he had ridden there, swung his long legs over it, and pedaled away, disappearing into the distance with nothing but a cool, retreating figure.  

…

Meanwhile, Xu Xiaoyue had just returned to the Yan household, where Zheng Jiaojiao and Liu Ye were sitting on the sofa, chatting happily.  

The moment Zheng Jiaojiao saw Xu Xiaoyue, a flicker of guilt crossed her face.  

But after scrutinizing the woman’s appearance—noting only the bandage on her forehead and her calm demeanor, showing no signs of having suffered any ordeal—her unease faded.  

Liu Ye, however, stood up and asked, “What happened to your forehead? Is it serious?”  

Xu Xiaoyue glanced at Zheng Jiaojiao before answering, “Jiaojiao walked too fast, and I lost track of her in the crowd. I was rushing to catch up and wasn’t paying attention, so I tripped and fell.” 

“Luckily, there was a clinic right ahead on that road, so I got it bandaged up quickly.” 

“That’s impossible!” Zheng Jiaojiao blurted out before she could stop herself.  

She had clearly agreed with Wang Hao to deliberately leave Xu Xiaoyue there—could it be that Wang Hao arrived late?

Liu Ye turned to her, puzzled. “Jiaojiao, what did you just say?”  

“N-Nothing! I just meant it’s my fault for walking too fast and making Sister Xiaoyue lose me.” 

Zheng Jiaojiao forced a smile, digging her nails into her palm as she glossed over the slip-up.  

Xu Xiaoyue scoffed inwardly. She wasn’t foolish enough to expose Zheng Jiaojiao’s true nature right now—after all, to the Yan family, she was still a newcomer, nowhere near as established as Zheng Jiaojiao.  

But that didn’t mean she’d hold back from lodging a few well-placed complaints.  

Liu Ye didn’t notice Zheng Jiaojiao’s odd behavior, her attention instead drawn to Xu Xiaoyue’s outfit, which she couldn’t help but admire.  

“It’s been so long since I last visited the state-run department store. I had no idea the new clothing designs had become so much more stylish than before.”

She reached out to touch Xu Xiaoyue’s blouse, which was adorned with plump, lustrous pearls. The garment accentuated her full bust and slender waist, the delicate fabric clinging to her curves in a way that was both innocent and alluring—a perfect blend of purity and sensuality.  

This was the “pure desire” aesthetic that would later become a trend: sexy yet undeniably fresh-faced.  

At the mention of clothes and Liu Ye’s undisguised admiration, Zheng Jiaojiao’s expression darkened. She stifled the jealousy in her eyes, lowering her head as she nervously picked at something in her hands.  

“Auntie, do you think the clothes *I* bought for you aren’t good enough?”

At her words, Liu Ye paused and withdrew her hand, turning to look at the girl.  

“Jiaojiao, take these two outfits back and return them. Follow your sister Xiaoyue’s example and buy something more suited for young people.”  

Xu Xiaoyue raised an eyebrow, her almond-shaped eyes shifting to the clothes in Zheng Jiaojiao’s hands—a military-green Lenin-style suit that looked anything but fashionable.  

Now she understood why Zheng Jiaojiao had insisted on splitting up at the state-run department store. The girl had wanted to play the devoted, filial daughter and make Xu Xiaoyue look bad in comparison.  

But Xu Xiaoyue couldn’t decide whether Zheng Jiaojiao was *too* clever for her own good or just plain foolish. Using someone else’s money to buy them gifts and then taking credit for the gesture?  

*Now that’s a masterclass in modern-day grifting.*  

What Zheng Jiaojiao probably hadn’t considered was that Liu Ye had given them money for new clothes in the first place to ensure they wouldn’t embarrass the Yan family by dressing shabbily.  

“Auntie, this is just a small token of my filial respect. I don’t need new clothes—I’m happy with what I have.”

Zheng Jiaojiao pushed the clothes back toward Liu Ye’s hands.  

Liu Ye sighed inwardly. Though both were young women, she’d rather deal with Xu Xiaoyue any day than Zheng Jiaojiao.  

Not for any particular reason—it was just that Zheng Jiaojiao was *too* dutiful, leaving Liu Ye at a loss for how to handle her.  

She set the clothes down on the sofa. “Enough. I’m too old to fuss over fine clothes. Return them as I said, or your Auntie Liu will really get upset.”

Liu Ye refused firmly.  

Zheng Jiaojiao couldn’t figure out where she’d gone wrong.  

Her gaze fell on Xu Xiaoyue’s figure-hugging top and skirt, and she silently added this grudge to the woman’s tab.  

…

That night, Zheng Jiaojiao stared at the tightly shut bathroom door, the sound of running water leaking through.  

She knew Xu Xiaoyue wouldn’t emerge for at least half an hour whenever she took a shower.  

Sitting on the bed, she glanced at the clothes beside her, then up at Xu Xiaoyue’s bunk.  

The pearl-embellished blouse and skirt hung neatly on a hanger at the head of Xu Xiaoyue’s bed.  

As if possessed, Zheng Jiaojiao picked up a pair of scissors. Step by step, she climbed the ladder to Xu Xiaoyue’s bunk.  

She wanted to ruin those clothes—she couldn’t stand Xu Xiaoyue’s smug triumph from earlier.  

The thought consumed her. Once on the bed, she positioned the scissors over the fabric.  

“Xiaoyue—”

Mama Wang pushed the door open, her words cutting off as she looked up and saw Zheng Jiaojiao holding the scissors with an eerily blank expression.  

A chill ran down her spine. She stumbled back. “Jiaojiao, what are you doing?”  

Caught red-handed, Zheng Jiaojiao’s hand jerked. The scissors nicked her index finger, and a bead of blood welled up.  

“Mama Wang, I—I was just checking for loose threads on Sister Xiaoyue’s clothes!”  

Her eyes darted to the bathroom—only to find Xu Xiaoyue standing silently in the doorway, freshly showered, watching her with calm, unreadable eyes.