Chapter 148: Departure with the Army
Hearing Sheng Wanyan’s genuine words of concern, Mother Gu felt a wave of relief wash over her. The two women chatted for a few more minutes until the loud blare of the train whistle signaled that departure was imminent.
“Mom, we should head inside now,” Gu Tingxiao said gently.
Mother Gu knew she couldn’t delay them any longer. Swallowing her reluctance, she stepped back to let them board. “Write to us as soon as you arrive!”
“We will,” Sheng Wanyan promised with a warm nod.
Mother Gu blinked back tears, her eyes red as she waved them off. Father Gu stood right behind her, steady as a mountain, offering his silent support.
Sheng Wanyan and Gu Tingxiao had booked berths in a soft sleeper compartment, which accommodated four people.
Before boarding, Wanyan had mentioned to Tingxiao that she was keeping their money and supply coupons safe in her personal satchel. In reality, she had secretly transferred everything into her pocket dimension. Nothing was safer than her space. After all, during this era, withdrawing money from a passbook didn’t require the strict identity verification of future generations; anyone holding the physical passbook could withdraw the funds if they wished.
The train carriage was a bustling, chaotic world of its own, thick with a mingling of dozens of pungent odors. Passengers crammed in with as much luggage as they could physically carry, and people even brought live chickens, ducks, and geese on board without any restrictions.
Gu Tingxiao carried the heavy bags, walking ahead to clear a path through the crowded corridor, shielding Wanyan safely until they reached their compartment.
Inside the compartment were two sets of bunk beds. Two passengers had already arrived—a middle-aged woman and a young girl, who appeared to be mother and daughter.
The moment Sheng Wanyan and Gu Tingxiao stepped through the door, the mother and daughter looked up. Seeing Tingxiao in his crisp military uniform, they instantly relaxed. In those days, sharing a train compartment with a soldier was considered the ultimate stroke of good luck for safety.
When the young girl caught sight of Gu Tingxiao’s sharp brows, striking phoenix eyes, and commanding military bearing, her face flushed crimson. She quickly lowered her head, nervously playing with her braid, though she couldn’t resist stealing glances at him as he walked in.
Sheng Wanyan climbed onto the upper bunk assigned to her, while Gu Tingxiao took the lower bunk to keep watch over their luggage.
Directly across from Wanyan on the opposite upper bunk sat the young girl. Up close, her skin looked a bit sallow, but by the standards of the era, she was still considered quite fair and pretty.
When the girl looked up and properly saw Wanyan’s face, she was momentarily stunned by her striking beauty, followed quickly by a wave of nervousness. What is the relationship between this gorgeous girl and the soldier? she wondered anxiously. If they’re a couple, how could I ever compete? Surely they must just be relatives, right?
Sheng Wanyan caught the girl staring. Realizing she had been noticed, the young girl flustered, quickly turning her head away to look out the window.
Down below, Gu Tingxiao neatly arranged their belongings and even took Wanyan’s shoes, setting them precisely under the bed. He then unscrewed his canteen and handed it up to her.
“Wife, have some water.”
Sheng Wanyan took the canteen, took a few sips to quench her thirst, and handed it back down. “You should drink some too.”
Gu Tingxiao nodded, taking two large gulps.
On the top bunk opposite them, the young girl’s heart sank instantly. Did that soldier just call her… wife?
They were actually married!
Watching the seamless, quiet understanding between the two in every little movement, the girl knew she didn’t stand a chance. As handsome as the soldier was, interfering with a military marriage in this era was no laughing matter—the offense was severe enough to send an entire family to a labor camp. Suppressing her disappointment, she could do nothing but watch their quiet affection.
The middle-aged woman below also realized they were newlyweds. However, since they were strangers, she didn’t immediately pry.
The compartment fell into a quiet lull. Sheng Wanyan unwrapped some pastries Gu Tingxiao had packed for her and began to nibble on one.
“Are you hungry, wife?” Tingxiao asked, looking up.
Sheng Wanyan shook her head. “Not really.” She wasn’t actually hungry; she was just restless and wanted something to taste.
Gu Tingxiao understood her perfectly. His wife wasn’t the type to mistreat herself; if she said she wasn’t hungry, she meant it. She was simply bored.
“There’s malted milk extract in the bag. I’ll go get some hot water and brew a cup for you,” he said. Then, his tone turned serious. “Stay right here in the compartment while I’m gone. The train is crowded, and you never know who’s around.”
He hated leaving her alone, but the thermos in their cabin was empty, and he needed to find the hot water attendant. Besides, he knew how meticulous Wanyan was about cleanliness; even if she couldn’t take a proper bath on a week-long train ride, she would definitely want hot water to wipe down her hands and feet before bed.
Sheng Wanyan glanced at the empty thermos in his hand and guessed his intentions. “Alright, I’ll stay right here.”
She was never one to wander aimlessly, nor did she have any desire to squeeze through crowded train cars. She recalled the protagonists of the time-travel novels she used to read, who always seemed to encounter human traffickers or pickpockets on trains, rushing out to play the hero based on pure impulse and a belief in their own plot armor.
Wanyan had no intention of doing that. Maintaining order was the railway police’s job, not that of an unarmed woman. She would gladly offer a quiet warning if she noticed something amiss, but she had no interest in playing a hero.
Knowing Wanyan always kept her word, Gu Tingxiao took the thermos and stepped out of the compartment, feeling reassured.
Left to herself, Sheng Wanyan glanced down at her wrist. She was wearing her betrothal gift—a sleek silver watch with a black strap. It was currently 3:30 in the afternoon. The train journey from the Capital to the military base would take an entire week, followed by another half-day truck ride from the station to the barracks.
Spending a full week confined to a tiny bunk with absolutely nothing to do was going to be a true test of patience.
As she stared blankly, the older woman on the lower bunk opposite them decided to strike up a conversation.
“Young lady, are you two newly married?”
Sheng Wanyan gave a polite, brief nod. “Yes, we are.”
“I knew it. I’ve lived long enough to spot these things a mile away,” the aunt chuckled. “It’s rare to find a young man who dotes on his wife that much. And since he’s a soldier defending our country, you have to cherish him properly.”
Sheng Wanyan simply smiled and nodded along. She didn’t particularly enjoy when strangers adopted a lecturing tone under the guise of elder wisdom. Not wanting to dwell on her personal life, she smoothly changed the subject.
“Auntie, is that your daughter up there?” Wanyan asked, gesturing slightly toward the opposite upper bunk.
The older woman nodded proudly. “Yes, that’s my girl. She’s eighteen this year and still doesn’t have a partner. It’s driving me mad with worry! That’s why I brought her to the Capital a while back—to visit my son and see if he could arrange a blind date for her.”
Hearing that an eighteen-year-old was already being rushed into marriage made Sheng Wanyan feel a bit uncomfortable. In the future she came from, eighteen was the prime of a girl’s youth, a time for university and dreams. Yet in this era, it was common for village girls to be engaged by fourteen and married by sixteen.
“I see. That sounds like a good plan,” Wanyan replied politely, keeping her distance as a mere passenger passing through their lives.
“And how old are you, young lady?” the aunt inquired.
“I’m twenty-one.”
“Twenty-one?!” The older woman’s eyes widened in disbelief. She looked Sheng Wanyan up and down, baffled. Wanyan’s skin was so flawless and her features so delicate that she easily passed for seventeen or eighteen.
“Yes, twenty-one,” Wanyan affirmed with a small smile.
“Goodness, I really couldn’t tell,” the aunt marveled, shaking her head. “Looking at you, I would have sworn you weren’t a day over seventeen!”
