Chapter 13.2

It’s often said that it’s easy to transition from frugality to extravagance, but hard to go back from extravagance to frugality. 

Before He Dongchuan came back, Su Ting thought the canteen’s food was flavorful, with a wide variety of dishes, clean and hygienic. She was happy to buy three meals a day from there.

However, after eating He Dongchuan’s cooking for a few days, Su Ting’s taste had become more discerning. When she ate the canteen food again, she felt that it was too bland, or lacking in oil, or just not up to par.

It wasn’t that she couldn’t tolerate it.

Although she was a bit picky about food, her pickiness often had to do with the food itself. For instance, she couldn’t stomach brown rice, didn’t like noodles, disliked onions, garlic, ginger, cilantro, and various ingredients like onions, bitter melon, loofah, and cucumbers no matter how they were cooked—she refused to even touch them.

But if the ingredients were to her liking, and the chef’s skills weren’t too bad, and the result wasn’t some disastrous dish, she could usually manage to eat it, even if it was only a small portion.

However, He Dongchuan was too perceptive and quickly noticed the change in her. He asked: “Is the food not to your taste?”

“It’s fine.” Su Ting replied honestly.

“You ate less today than yesterday.”

Su Ting paused for a moment before replying: “But I ate more than before.”

It was true that she had eaten more than before, but that was because the rice at the canteen was so rough she couldn’t swallow it. Today, although they got the food from the canteen, the rice was cooked at home. Yesterday, she could eat two bowls of rice in one meal, but today she had only managed to eat one, so the problem was clear.

However, He Dongchuan didn’t argue with her. He simply said: “Make sure to buy some vegetables tomorrow.”

“What’s wrong?”

As soon as Su Ting heard this, she immediately realized what he meant. Her eyes lit up as she asked: “Are you going to cook tomorrow?”

He Yan’s eyes also brightened. “Dad, are you going to cook?”

“Mm.”

“Ah, you must have a lot to do at the base, right? Will it be too tiring to cook when you get back tonight? Actually, we can just eat at the canteen.”

If her smile hadn’t been so bright, He Dongchuan might have believed her, but now… he shook his head and said: “It’s not tiring.”

During missions, it was common to be on high alert all day long, and there were times when he only slept two or three hours over the course of two or three days. When he was at the base, he didn’t need to train all day, and at night, he didn’t have to stay up late. Cooking a meal every evening was no big deal for him.

He hadn’t cooked before going on a mission for several reasons: First, because he had taken leave twice, and with so much work piling up, he had been too busy after returning; second, because Su Ting had been eager to cook, and he had no interest in her, so he didn’t want to cook too often and make her overthink; third, at that time, neither Su Ting nor He Yan was picky about food, and they ate whatever was put in front of them.

Now that he thought about it, Su Ting today was the complete opposite of the one he had known before he went on his mission.

Before the mission, the Su Ting he knew looked at him with such enthusiasm, her words and actions always aimed at pleasing him, making him feel like he was some kind of prized treasure.

Some might enjoy such a skewed relationship, but He Dongchuan didn’t. In fact, he disliked it, and that was one of the reasons he preferred staying at the base—to escape from her.

Now, though, Su Ting looked at him with a much more neutral gaze. The overt attempts to please him had disappeared. They could finally communicate normally.

He Dongchuan didn’t know why Su Ting had undergone such a dramatic change in just half a month, but he wasn’t curious to find out whether she had suddenly had an awakening or whether her previous behavior had all been an act. Regardless, her change wasn’t a bad thing for him.

Of course, it would have been better if she had maintained her old eating habits. After all, with her current level of pickiness, it wouldn’t be long before she turned into a stick. 

But there were no “ifs.” To prevent his wife from getting sick from hunger, he had to keep cooking for her, no matter how tiring it might be. Moreover, cooking wasn’t really tiring for him.

Su Ting didn’t understand He Dongchuan’s thoughts. If she did, she would definitely argue with him about what it meant to be “slim and beautiful.”

Right now, Su Ting only thought He Dongchuan was a great guy!

To show her gratitude for his kindness—and honestly, also for the sake of long-term sustainability—she knew that being too much of a hands-off manager could easily lead to resentment from those who did the work, so she made sure everything was ready. By the time He Dongchuan came home, all the ingredients were prepared, and he could just roll up his sleeves and start cooking.

However, what she never expected was that the ingredients she spent almost an hour preparing were actually criticized!

Although her cooking skills weren’t great and her knife skills were average, she still knew the basic rules for chopping vegetables… right?

Okay, maybe not so much. After He Dongchuan reprocessed the ingredients, they indeed looked much more appetizing than what she had done. The potato sticks she had chopped, which were beyond saving, now looked even worse in comparison.

Su Ting felt that this couldn’t be blamed on her. In her previous life, whenever she needed shredded potatoes, she always used a grater and never actually cut them herself. She thought she had done pretty well with the potato sticks, considering they were mostly of a similar size.

It had taken her about twenty minutes!

Fortunately, though the potato sticks were a bit ugly and didn’t have the crispness of shredded potatoes, He Dongchuan’s cooking skills were top-notch. The braised dish still tasted good.

It could have been because the vegetables were all the ones Su Ting liked, or perhaps it was the satisfaction of having worked for it, but that evening, Su Ting ate two full bowls of rice!

Su Ting felt full, thinking she had eaten too much.

He Dongchuan, with his usual neutral expression, commented: “Xiao Yan eats more than you.”

Su Ting glanced at He Yan, who was still eating with enthusiasm, and retorted: “He’s a boy, and he’s still growing. Of course he eats more than me. Besides, the monthly food supply is limited, and you two—father and son—are both big eaters. If I don’t save, how are we going to get by?” She was doing all this for the family!

Hearing Su Ting mention him, He Yan looked up from his bowl and said: “Mom, you don’t need to worry about me. I… I can eat a little less.”

“Of course not!” Su Ting said seriously. “You’re a kid, so you’re the priority for food in this house. Don’t worry, I know what I’m doing!”

Looking at the mother and son, who seemed so harmonious, He Dongchuan, who was still contemplating how to trade some coarse grain for refined rice since their stock was running low, couldn’t help but think: “…”

Was he really unnecessary here?

……

After that day, the He family’s meals were organized in a clear routine.

They had breakfast and lunch at the base and the family compound canteens, while for dinner, He Dongchuan cooked, with Su Ting still handling the preparation of the ingredients. It wasn’t that she wanted to redeem herself for the potato sticks, but simply because she didn’t have the courage to let He Dongchuan do all the work on his own.

Of course, even if she had wanted to redeem herself, the result would probably have been nothing but repeated face slaps.

He Dongchuan was easy-going in some areas, but when it came to cooking, he had very high standards for ingredients, to the point where Su Ting always felt like he must have come from the Kitchen Unit.

There was a saying, wasn’t there? A special forces soldier who can’t cook isn’t a good soldier king?

Well, Su Ting made that up, but the sentiment wasn’t wrong. In her previous life, she had watched an interview with the special forces, where they mentioned that not only did cooks have to wield a large spoon, but they also had to keep up with training, which made them work harder than regular soldiers.

However, Su Ting felt that she wasn’t close enough to He Dongchuan to ask directly, so the above was just her personal guess.

In any case, Su Ting’s prepared ingredients, except for hard root vegetables that were difficult to handle, could all be processed a second time by He Dongchuan. Whether she had chopped them into strips or chunks, he could always do something to make them look better.

After being criticized for her earlier efforts, Su Ting felt like she was being repeatedly punished and humiliated, as if she were tied to a shame post for public ridicule.

If it weren’t for the many years she had spent working in a corporate environment, which had thickened her skin and toughened her ability to withstand pressure, she would have quit by now. Instead, she was still forcing herself to keep going, despite how embarrassing it was.

Luckily, her persistence wasn’t for nothing—under someone’s high standards, she had grown rapidly.

Su Ting was now quite confident in her abilities. She even felt like she could apply for a vegetable cutter position at a State-Owned Restaurant without being intimidated.

But in these times, even getting a job as a simple vegetable cutter at a State-Owned Restaurant was considered a good position, one that regular people didn’t easily get. So, while she mused about it in her head, she couldn’t actually put it into practice.

The only skill she could currently rely on to make a living was drawing comic books.

As her knife skills improved, Su Ting also completed the initial preparations for her comic book. She had written out the story that would accompany the artwork and was now ready to move into the drawing phase.

This was a meticulous task. Though a comic book panel might only be the size of a palm when printed, the drafts she submitted were certainly larger than that—typically two panels on an A4 sheet at most.

Moreover, her work was highly detailed, requiring close attention to every nuance. So, while the story wasn’t long, the drawing process was incredibly time-consuming and energy-draining.

As a result, once Su Ting threw herself into her creative process, she stopped going to the playground. For one, it was too noisy, and for another, there were too many people who might come over to watch her draw. Since she was planning to submit her work, it was better to keep things confidential before it got published.

In truth, Su Ting didn’t spend long hours drawing each day. She usually woke up around seven in the morning, first heading to the canteen for breakfast. Afterward, she would buy groceries. If she bought seafood, she would have to process it before getting back, which usually took until around 8:30.

She would then relax a little, tidy up the place briefly, and wouldn’t start drawing until around 9:00 AM. She would work until 11:30 AM, taking a 10 to 20-minute break if needed.

In the afternoon, after waking up from a nap, she would begin drawing again, usually from 2:00 to 4:00 PM. Afterward, she would take a short half-hour break to prepare ingredients for dinner.

After dinner, Su Ting didn’t do any more work. The bulbs in this era had low wattage, and the room was dim, which made detailed work hard on the eyes. Besides, since she was still being supported, there was no need to push herself too hard.

That afternoon, Su Ting woke up as usual around 1:00 PM. After getting up, she washed her face in the bathroom, then poured herself a cup of cool tea. She drank it before starting her work.

The “work table” she used for drawing wasn’t anything special—it was the same table she used for meals. There was no desk in the Master’s Bedroom, and the vanity was too low for drawing; after a while, it would strain her neck.

She could have used the desk in the second bedroom; the door was never locked, and no one stopped her from coming and going. However, Su Ting felt that, since she and He Dongchuan had a “plastic” relationship, she needed to maintain some distance in that regard. It couldn’t be too ambiguous.

Well, eating meals didn’t count in this—she could be hypocritical about that, and she didn’t feel guilty about it.

In fact, using the dining table as a work desk wasn’t ideal. It was a bit too high, and it was also the same table left by the previous homeowner. It had been used for many years, and even after repeated cleaning, the surface still felt a little greasy.

Su Ting’s current goal was to finish the comic book as soon as possible, so she could earn some money to buy herself a proper desk for work.

Just as she was sketching out a character, she heard someone calling from outside: “Is Su Ting here?”

When she realized they were looking for her, Su Ting hurriedly put her drawing away and went outside.

The person calling her was Yu Xiaofang, a military wife who lived in the house in front. Though Su Ting knew her, they hadn’t interacted much before. When she saw her, she was a bit puzzled but still greeted her with a smile, saying: “Sister Yu, what brings you here?”

Yu Xiaofang raised the bowl in her hand and smiled, saying: “I made some chili sauce a while ago. It’s about ready, so I thought I’d bring you some. I hope it’s not a bother.”

Su Ting was surprised. While she had often received food from military wives she knew during the time she’d been drawing at home, it was still a pleasant surprise. People in this era were really warm and generous toward their friends.

The food they brought wasn’t anything extravagant. It could be something as simple as pickled cabbage and chili like what Yu Xiaofang was carrying, or maybe a handful of fruits picked from the roadside. But no matter what it was, it made Su Ting feel touched—like they had been thinking of her all along.

Although she wasn’t very familiar with Yu Xiaofang, the kind gesture of bringing food made it hard for Su Ting to turn her away. She smiled and said: “How could I refuse? Thank you for thinking of us.”

She then welcomed her inside and offered her a cup of tea.