The next day.
The sky had just begun to lighten, still gray and dim.
Wen Ci stood by the bed in the downstairs guest room, tugging at Wen Yaozu’s ear with a calm expression. “Still lazing in bed? Can’t you hear the military bugle from the barracks next door?”
Wen Yaozu showed no reaction.
Wen Ci increased the pressure slightly, and Wen Yaozu jolted awake with a yelp, clutching his ear as a grumpy voice escaped him:
“What’s the big idea, ruining a good dream so early in the morning?”
“Get up now.”
“Seriously?” Wen Yaozu frowned, thinking his sister was just teasing him, until his gaze met Wen Ci’s stern expression.
Wen Ci replied coolly, “What do you think?”
Wen Yaozu felt his sister had changed quite a bit since getting married. After a moment of reluctant deliberation, he dragged his plump body out of bed, rubbing his stomach. “I’m hungry.”
“Run first, eat later.”
The early morning in the capital was heavy with dew, the air slightly misty.
Wen Ci brought a stool from inside and sat on the front steps, speaking unhurriedly, “Since it’s your first day, I’ll go easy on you to help you adjust. Ten laps.”
Wen Yaozu’s eyes nearly bulged out. “Ten laps? Sis, are you trying to kill me?”
Wen Ci snorted. Ten laps might sound like a lot, but running ten laps around the courtyard only amounted to a few hundred meters—not even half the length of the military training field.
“Or would you prefer I take you to the barracks’ training field and have you run just one lap?”
Hearing this, Wen Yaozu’s chubby face broke into a grin. “Actually, ten laps sounds perfect. Not for any other reason—I just love a good challenge.”
Wen Ci: “…”
It was only 6:30 a.m.
Wen Ci planned to supervise Wen Yaozu’s exercise before heading to the hospital to visit Huo Jingyuan.
Five minutes later.
Watching his sluggish “running” pace, Wen Ci was utterly speechless. What should have taken mere minutes had already dragged on for five, with only one and a half laps completed.
It was less of a run and more of a leisurely stroll.
Wen Ci frowned. “I said run, not take a walk.”
“I am running,” Wen Yaozu lied without batting an eye, even faking heavy breaths. “Sis, you can’t just make baseless accusations.”
Who was the one making baseless accusations here?
Suddenly, she remembered the huangjing sticks in the upstairs cabinet. Huo Jingyuan had once mentioned that his grandfather was from the Sichuan-Chongqing region, where an old tradition dictated that when moving house, one should bring huangjing branches from the mountains into the new home.
Huangjing (黄荆) sounded like huangjin (黄金, “gold”), symbolizing the bringing of wealth.
There was also an old saying in Sichuan and Chongqing: “Huangjing sticks make good men.”
Wen Ci rose from the stool and headed upstairs.
Seeing his sister leave, Wen Yaozu didn’t even bother pretending to walk anymore. He stood still, leisurely stretching while muttering under his breath, “Making people run first thing in the morning—does she want us dead or what?”
Next door, the synchronized marching of the barracks echoed.
“The military’s insane. Getting up before dawn for drills…”
Just as he finished grumbling, Wen Yaozu caught sight of his sister descending the stairs and hastily resumed his act, jogging a few steps while panting dramatically. “Sis, I’ve already run two laps!”
“Oh, two laps?”
Wen Ci approached slowly, a long, slender huangjing stick in hand. She had deliberately picked the thinnest one from the wardrobe—the kind that would leave a stinging sensation.
Catching sight of the stick in Wen Ci’s hand from the corner of his eye, Wen Yaozu’s eyes widened in alarm. “Sis, what are you doing? There’s no need for violence!”
With that, his legs suddenly picked up speed.
Afraid of running too slowly and provoking his sister’s wrath, he sprinted as if his life depended on it.
Though he hadn’t been beaten much growing up, every time he’d seen his younger brothers disciplined, he’d felt a mix of dread and morbid fascination.
Under the huangjing stick’s encouragement, Wen Yaozu finished the remaining eight laps in just five minutes. Hands on his knees, he gasped for breath.
Wen Ci said calmly, “Do you want to nap now while I bring you breakfast, or eat first and then nap?”
“You… you… bring it…”
He was utterly exhausted. He’d rather go hungry than take another step outside the courtyard. All he wanted was to collapse back into bed and pray this was all a bad dream.
“Fine.”
…
Wen Ci arrived at the hospital.
Downstairs, she ran into Huo Jingyuan’s attending physician, who greeted her proactively. “Mrs. Huo, could you come to the office first?”
“What’s wrong?”
Alarm bells instantly rang in Wen Ci’s mind.
Hadn’t they said Huo Jingyuan would be transferred to a regular ward in a week, allowing unrestricted visits?
Noticing her tension, the doctor quickly reassured her. “There’s nothing wrong with Regiment Commander Huo, don’t worry. I just wanted to discuss his recovery progress with you.”
Wen Ci exhaled in relief.
Entering the office, the doctor poured her a cup of warm water and spoke unhurriedly. “Based on Regiment Commander Huo’s current condition, he could be discharged very soon. However, higher-ups have ordered that he remain hospitalized for at least a month and recuperate in the capital for no less than half a year.”
Wen Ci’s eyes widened.
“He can be discharged that soon?”
The doctor nodded. “Regiment Commander Huo is young and physically strong. His recovery has exceeded our expectations—his stitches can be removed in just a few days.”
“But!” The doctor continued, “Yesterday afternoon, after learning he could soon have his stitches removed, Regiment Commander Huo insisted on returning to the Northwest to recuperate.”
“So, the higher-ups hope you can persuade him. The medical conditions in the Northwest pale in comparison to the capital. If he doesn’t recover fully, it could lead to chronic injuries.”
Wen Ci nodded solemnly in agreement.
“I’ll talk to him.”
“The official order is that Regiment Commander Huo must remain in the capital for at least six months. After that, we’ll assess whether there are any lingering issues.”
After a moment’s thought, Wen Ci asked, “Does that mean he can be discharged?”
“Yes. After discharge, Regiment Commander Huo can stay at the military family quarters in the capital. The affiliated hospital is nearby, so any follow-ups will be convenient.”
A smile curved Wen Ci’s eyes. “Good. I’ll persuade him.”
After speaking with the doctor, Wen Ci went upstairs to the ward.
The man was gazing out the window at a tree in the courtyard, its lush green leaves brushing against the window as they swayed in the breeze. Hearing the door open, he slowly turned his head toward Wen Ci.
His eyes were deep and ink-black, profound yet carrying another emotion. “Wife, you’re here.”
Wife.
The word instantly reddened Wen Ci’s ears. It was the first time she’d heard the term from him—during intimate moments, he’d at most called her xifur (媳妇儿, “wifey”).
Wife sounded so formal it was almost comical.
Yet his tone carried unmistakable longing.
Wen Ci walked to Huo Jingyuan’s side. “Eager to be discharged?”
“Mn.”
Originally, Wen Ci had planned to patiently reason with him. But then an idea struck her. Her gaze flicked downward deliberately as she feigned concern. “Are you… injured there?”
She didn’t specify where.
But her eyes and tone said everything.
Huo Jingyuan’s brow furrowed, his gaze darkening as it bore into her. “Comrade Wen, are you worried this might affect our harmonious married life in the future?”
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