Chapter 210: Father and Mother Sheng Are Coming
Wanyan figured it was far better to let her grandparents eat their fill, keep healthy, and live a long, comfortable life.
She listened to the neighborhood gossip for an entire afternoon, completely fascinated. Not only was she thoroughly engrossed, but the rest of the women were so busy talking that everyone completely lost track of time and forgot to start dinner.
When Gu Tingxiao returned to an empty house, he noticed her bicycle was parked in the yard. He asked around to find out where his wife had gone, and instead of staying home to cook, he headed straight over to Captain Fang’s apartment building to pick her up.
“Oh! Lao Fang, what are you doing back so early?” Xu Guihua gasped, blinking in surprise when her husband walked through the door. She thought her eyes were playing tricks on her—was it really past working hours already?
“Wife, I’ve been off the clock for a while now,” Captain Fang replied with a chuckle.
They had all been having so much fun chatting that time had simply slipped away.
“Oh, goodness! Look how late it is,” one of the wives cried. “I have to rush home and get dinner on the stove.”
“Hurry, hurry, let’s get moving.”
Sheng Wanyan checked her watch and saw it was already half past five. Gu Tingxiao must have been home for a while. Just as she stood up to take her leave, she saw him walking up the stairwell toward the apartment.
“Hello, Captain!” Gu Tingxiao offered a crisp salute to Captain Fang.
Captain Fang waved his hand dismissively and warmly invited the couple to stay for a bite. “Why don’t you both join us for dinner?”
“Thank you, Captain, but I’ve already got dinner handled at home,” Gu Tingxiao replied smoothly. “We’ll take a rain check.”
Captain Fang nodded understandingly, but the other sisters-in-law who hadn’t yet crossed the threshold stared at Gu Tingxiao in absolute disbelief. A grown military man cooking dinner? It sounded like pure magic to their ears.
“Wanyan, I’m here to take you home,” Gu Tingxiao said, turning to his wife.
Sheng Wanyan nodded, bid the other military wives a warm goodbye, and walked out alongside Aunt Xie, following Gu Tingxiao back down the path.
“Captain Gu truly dotes on his wife entirely too much,” the military wives murmured to one another as they walked away. In their world, expecting a man to cook a meal was an absolute impossibility. The husbands in their circle were considered excellent men by typical standards, but compared to Gu Tingxiao, they didn’t even come close. Forget cooking a meal—getting their men to help with a basket of laundry was completely out of the question. To women of this era, housework was simply not a man’s domain.
“Exactly. That man makes everyone else look bad,” another sighed.
The women shook their heads and headed back to their respective apartments. No matter how envious they felt, it was useless; they simply weren’t destined for that kind of fortune. Besides, their own husbands were already decent providers, and it was unfair to compare them to Captain Gu. After all, none of them were Sheng Wanyan, and none of them possessed her extraordinary capabilities.
Frankly, if any of those men had married a woman as brilliant as Wanyan, they would have happily held her in the palms of their hands and treasured her like a prized ancestor, too.
Once they returned to their courtyard, Sheng Wanyan quickly whipped up two simple dishes, and the couple enjoyed a quiet meal together.
Day after day, Sheng Wanyan’s life fell into a peaceful, unchanging routine. She wasn’t the type to constantly chase excitement; she was entirely content with a quiet, predictable existence. Every day, she took Maodou out to gather firewood, or spent her afternoons drinking hot tea and chatting with Grandpa and Grandma Sheng in their courtyard.
Time blurred past. Wanyan brought in the very last harvest from her garden plot, and the biting northern winter officially arrived.
Suddenly, it was mid-October. Sheng Wanyan bundled up in her thick cotton-padded coat and trousers, curling up on the warm brick kang to focus on her translation manuscripts. Outside, Gu Tingxiao and his unit had to shovel massive drifts of snow just to clear a space on the grounds to train.
Wanyan stretched her stiff muscles and walked into the living room to scoop out some food for Maodou. Now that the puppy was a few months older, it could easily crunch on small bones.
“Woof!”
Maodou pawed excitedly at her leg, clearly begging to go outside and run wild. But out in the courtyard, the snow was so deep that even humans struggled to walk properly, let alone a young pup.
“It’s freezing out there. You play in the yard for just a bit,” Wanyan cooed.
She slipped a custom dog coat over its torso—a little jacket she had stitched herself, adorned with painted floral patterns. Gu Tingxiao always made sure to shovel a clear path through the courtyard snow before heading to work, so there was a neat, cleared patch for the dog to enjoy.
Hearing that it was allowed out into the yard, Maodou spun around in ecstatic circles before darting through the door the second Wanyan cracked it open.
Wanyan cleaned up the indoor mess, grabbed a broom, and stepped outside to sweep away the fresh powder that had accumulated. While she was out, she tended to the chickens. The coop was reinforced with a sturdy protective shed, ensuring the hens remained insulated from the freezing winds. The two hens continued to lay eggs like clockwork every single day. Two fresh eggs a day provided a wonderful, steady resource for the household. Furthermore, Wanyan frequently utilized her secret spatial storage to slip an extra egg or two into the kitchen container, silently replenishing whatever ingredients she used.
Gu Tingxiao rarely policed the household pantry or audited the food supply. He happily ate whatever she prepared or purchased, harboring zero demands or complaints as long as his stomach was full.
Using a fresh batch of eggs and flour, Wanyan baked a light, fluffy sponge cake base, whipped up some rich butter frosting using the leftover egg whites, and assembled a beautiful pound-and-a-half cake. She sliced it cleanly down the middle, reserving half for her own kitchen and packing the rest to take across the lane.
Draping her heavy winter coat over her shoulders, she carried the pastry over to her grandparents’ house. Grandma Sheng stared at the treated dessert with immense curiosity.
“What on earth is this?” the old woman asked.
“It’s just a soft pastry I whipped up,” Wanyan smiled. “Keep it to enjoy over the winter.”
During the brutal winter months, standard rations grew scarce, and families who hadn’t properly stockpiled dried crops often faced severe food shortages.
“We have plenty at home, Grandma. We can’t possibly finish it all ourselves, and it will only spoil if it sits around,” Wanyan insisted.
Hearing this, Grandma Sheng reached into her own basket and handed her ten fresh eggs, insisting she take them back to nourish her body. Wanyan didn’t argue; she accepted the gift and carried them home.
By the time she returned to her quiet courtyard, a wave of afternoon fatigue hit her. Shedding her heavy coat, she curled up beneath the quilts for a quick nap.
While she slept, the hours slipped away, and the time for Gu Tingxiao’s shift change arrived. When he walked through the front door and found her resting so deeply, he took care not to make a sound. In his mind, his wife’s intense manuscript translation work was every bit as grueling and exhausting as his physical military drills; she earned every bit of her rest.
The grandest thing about Gu Tingxiao was his complete lack of traditional prejudice. He never assumed that because his wife stayed within the house during the day, she was simply lounging around enjoying a life of leisure. Unlike many men of the era who viewed domestic chores, cooking, and childcare as effortless tasks, he never minimized a woman’s labor to excuse his own laziness or entitlement. Gu Tingxiao saw the reality of domestic work clearly and refused to bring any toxic male chauvinism into his home. It was the exact reason he happily took the initiative to cook their meals and never found fault with Wanyan’s relaxed pace.
Once dinner was fully prepared, Gu Tingxiao walked back into the bedroom to rouse her. Squatting down beside the kang, he playfully reached out and pinched her nose shut.
“Mmh…” Wanyan mumbled, swatting his hand away. She rolled over, burying her face deeper into the pillows.
Gu Tingxiao chuckled softly. His wife looked exactly like a stubborn, sleepy little cub, which he found incredibly endearing.
“Wanyan, time to wake up and eat,” he cooed softly, gently hauling her upright. “Have a proper meal, and then you can go right back to sleep.”
He supported her weight, letting her lean comfortably against his chest. Wanyan blinked her eyes open in a daze, looking thoroughly confused to see him home already. She reached for the watch resting on her pillow to check the time.
“How is it this late already?” she stammered, her voice thick with sleep. “Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?”
Still half-asleep, she scrambled off the platform, slipped her feet into her shoes, and hurried toward the kitchen. But before she even cleared the doorway, she spotted a beautiful, steaming dinner already laid out on the table.
“Go wash your hands, honey, and let’s eat,” Gu Tingxiao smiled.
“Oh… alright.”
Feeling a bit overwhelmed by his sweetness, Wanyan ran to splash cold water on her face, which instantly cleared the lingering cobwebs from her mind. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for sleeping through the afternoon. Gu Tingxiao was truly spoiling her to the point where she was becoming entirely too willful.
“Wanyan, let’s plan to head back to the Capital to celebrate the New Year this season,” Gu Tingxiao suggested as they sat down to eat.
Wanyan nodded in agreement. Their initial blueprint had involved traveling back to Chengdu in November. However, her parents had sent a long-distance letter just a few days prior, revealing that they had adjusted their schedules. They intended to travel up to the military base the following month to support Pan Yue through her delivery and postpartum confinement, choosing to remain on the base through the New Year holidays before returning south.
