Chapter 117: Touching Abs  

That afternoon.  

Zhao Guifen rushed into Jiang Rou’s courtyard in a hurry, her expression filled with nervousness and concern.  

Judging by her demeanor, she was clearly not there for Jiang Rou’s delicious food.  

As soon as she stepped through the door, Zhao Guifen blurted out,  

“Sister Rou, you… you… you’re getting close to that capitalist’s daughter?”  

Hearing this, Jiang Rou immediately understood.  

Even though Lin Yulan had already said the matter was settled and no one was allowed to bring it up again, with Chen Meilan, the gossipmonger, around, there were no secrets in this courtyard.  

In just the time it took to have lunch, the news had already reached Zhao Guifen’s ears. Who knew how many people had passed it along, adding their own fabrications along the way?  

Zhao Guifen’s reaction was the same as most of the other sisters in the courtyard—she was worried that Jiang Rou might be implicated because of her association with Song Qingqian.  

Her concern was well-intentioned.  

So Jiang Rou was not angry, just a little helpless.  

“Sister Guifen, when I first arrived at the courtyard, you all said I was a capitalist’s daughter too, and even wanted to drive me out.”  

At this, Zhao Guifen awkwardly scratched her nose.  

“That was just a misunderstanding. It was all because of… uh… oh, I remember now! It was that Xu Chunxiang’s fault. Sister Hong already looked into it—Xu Chunxiang was the one stirring up trouble, spreading rumors everywhere, making us misunderstand. If we had known back then that you were such a good person, we never would’ve believed her nonsense.”  

Jiang Rou listened quietly, then asked in return,  

“What if the situation with Song Qingqian is also a misunderstanding?”  

“Impossible. The organization investigated her family. They’re big capitalists, even richer than the landlords in our village.”  

“But now, she’s the same as us—just another woman living in this courtyard.”  

Zhao Guifen hesitated. “That’s true…”  

“Sister Guifen, has anyone in the courtyard ever interacted with Song Qingqian? Does anyone actually know her? What if she, like me, turns out to be a good person?”  

Jiang Rou’s question immediately stumped Zhao Guifen.  

She wasn’t the sharpest person, but she understood Jiang Rou’s point.  

If they had once misunderstood Jiang Rou, could it be… that they had also misunderstood Song Qingqian?  

Zhao Guifen’s face showed her inner conflict.  

Jiang Rou continued speaking softly.  

“No one in the courtyard truly knows what kind of person Song Qingqian is. So let me interact with her and see if she’s a good person. Our organization would never abandon a good person, right?”  

Zhao Guifen was stunned, her eyes widening in surprise.  

“Sister Rou… why do you sound just like Sister Hong? Ugh, I can’t explain it, but I believe you. Next time those people start gossiping about you again, I’ll make sure to scold them back for you!”  

Zhao Guifen spoke with righteous indignation on Jiang Rou’s behalf.  

However—  

She was still worried.  

“Sister Rou, should you tell Regiment Commander Zhou? I’m afraid he might overthink it. What if it affects your relationship?”  

Zhao Guifen’s words served as a reminder for Jiang Rou.  

She had yet to mention to Zhou Zhongshan that she was planning to learn how to make clothes from Song Qingqian.  

That Night  

The night was deep.  

When Zhou Zhongshan returned, he had just finished leading the soldiers’ evening training. They had run ten kilometers around the military camp’s field.  

He had taken the lead himself.  

By the time he got back, his uniform was soaked in sticky sweat, radiating an intense masculine scent.  

Instead of heading straight inside, he first went to the washroom to take a shower.  

Splash—splash—  

Water cascaded over Zhou Zhongshan’s bronze-toned body, leaving winding trails as it streamed down his firm muscles and—  

The faint, slender red marks on his back.  

They were scratch marks.  

Left by fingernails.  

When Jiang Rou grabbed him, it felt like she was just playfully scratching an itch—it didn’t hurt at all.  

Thinking of this, Zhou Zhongshan adjusted the water stream, letting it wash over him a little lower.  

He cleaned himself thoroughly.  

A short while later, he emerged with a towel in hand, drying his damp hair as he strode toward the bedroom, his body still bare.  

Inside the Room  

The light was still on.  

Whenever Zhou Zhongshan wasn’t home yet, Jiang Rou would always leave a small lamp on for him.  

The warm, dim glow illuminated the room—and settled quietly into the man’s heart.

Jiang Rou had been exhausted during the day and had gone to bed early at night.  

On the bed, her figure formed a small, gentle curve beneath the blanket.  

She was afraid of the light when sleeping, so she lay on her side, her delicate shoulder exposed, her face tucked into the blanket.  

Even so, she couldn’t bring herself to turn off the lamp.  

Zhou Zhongshan’s expression softened, and a silent smile touched his lips.  

He switched off the light, placed his still-damp towel aside, and climbed into bed in the dark.  

The moment there was the slightest movement—  

Jiang Rou, like a little cat, instinctively turned toward him, wanting to nestle against his chest.  

In a drowsy mumble, she murmured,  

“Husband, you’re back…”  

It was the intimate whisper of a married couple at night.  

“Mm, wife, I’m back.”  

Zhou Zhongshan’s voice was low and gentle.  

Yet, he did not immediately pull his delicate little wife into his embrace.  

Still half-asleep, Jiang Rou instinctively inched closer to him, her palm lightly brushing against something as she moved toward him on her own.  

However—  

Halfway there—  

Zhou Zhongshan pressed her down.  

Hmm?  

This impatient man… had he changed his ways?  

Was he practicing restraint now?  

Jiang Rou’s long eyelashes trembled slightly as she became more awake. Slowly, she opened her eyes in the dim light, revealing their clear, bright depths.  

Zhou Zhongshan sensed her confusion.  

His Adam’s apple bobbed slightly before he spoke.  

“I just took a shower. My body is cold.”  

He had bathed in cold water. By nighttime, the water had long lost the warmth of the day, leaving a deep chill.  

As a man with thick skin and a strong physique, he never caught colds or fevers.  

Even if a basin of cold water was poured over his head, he wouldn’t feel a thing.  

But Jiang Rou was different.  

She looked delicate, as frail as a willow in the wind, her waist barely a slender curve.  

Now, curled up in the warmth of the blankets, her body was radiating heat.  

If her warm, cozy self suddenly pressed against his chilly chest, wouldn’t she catch a cold?  

So Zhou Zhongshan restrained himself.  

After hearing his explanation, Jiang Rou didn’t insist on snuggling up to him.  

But—  

She blinked, then stealthily reached out with both hands.  

Her palms landed directly on Zhou Zhongshan’s abdominal muscles.  

She gave them a small squeeze.  

As expected of a soldier—his muscles were firm and unyielding.  

Lean and taut.  

His abs were sculpted, each segment clearly defined, the ridges and grooves distinctly outlined.  

Jiang Rou’s nimble little hands explored further, tracing over them again.  

From the moment she made contact, Zhou Zhongshan’s breathing had already stopped.  

His entire chest remained still, not daring to rise and fall.  

He could feel the softness of her smooth palms gliding over his skin, moving here and there.  

A heavy weight settled in his chest.  

Just as he was tense with restraint, Jiang Rou’s soft, sweet voice reached his ears.  

“I don’t think you feel cold at all.”  

Jiang Rou had personally verified this.  

Then, with a small roll of her body, she wriggled her way into Zhou Zhongshan’s arms.  

She nestled against his chest, finding the most comfortable spot before settling in.  

Lying slightly on her side, their bodies pressed together, skin against skin.  

Her chin happened to rest right against Zhou Zhongshan’s shoulder.  

When she lifted her eyes just a little, her gaze fell upon his deep, chiseled profile.  

In a quiet voice, Jiang Rou murmured, “Zhongshan, let’s talk for a bit.”