Chapter 176: Hemostatic Drug
Fortunately, Gu Tingxiao wasn’t that kind of man. He might have a bit of a traditional, stubborn streak, but he respected her completely.
If he didn’t, she would have preferred to stay single forever.
Gu Tingxiao, of course, had no idea how close he had come to losing his wife.
While Tingxiao was fully capable of cooking, his meals were far from culinary masterpieces; they lacked the perfect balance of color, aroma, and presentation. However, he could handle basic home-cooked meals perfectly well, keeping them completely edible and balanced.
“Tingxiao,” Wanyan called out suddenly over dinner, pausing with her chopsticks. “I have a question about how things work around here.”
“Go ahead, wife.”
“Can the local postman deliver mail and packages directly into the residential area?”
She wanted to avoid traveling all the way into the city every time she needed to submit her translations, collect her royalties, or pick up new books. Back in Chengdu, commuting to her shifts had been seamless, but out here, the distance made it a major chore—unless she already had errands to run.
Besides, once the winter snow piled high, she had absolutely no intention of leaving the house if she could avoid it.
“He can’t come inside the compound,” Tingxiao explained. “Military regulations state that outside couriers have to leave everything at the main gates. The postman drops off mail for our unit every Monday morning, leaving it securely at the guard post.”
Wanyan nodded, relieved. That arrangement was a thousand times more convenient and would spare her a lot of unnecessary hassle.
“From now on, you can have your translation materials and royalty letters sent directly to the base address,” Tingxiao added, instantly picking up on her unexpressed concern. He knew she worried about her hard-earned money or sensitive documents going missing. “Don’t worry about anything being misplaced at the guard post. The base enforces strict protocols; only the registered soldier or their direct dependents can claim a delivery, and the sentries on duty log every single pickup.”
“Perfect. I’ll have everything forwarded straight to the base from now on.” Wanyan smiled, then shifted the conversation. “I plan to make a few more trips into the city over the coming weeks to buy extra food and slowly pack the root cellar before the deep freeze sets in.”
“I’ll go with you on my next rest day,” Tingxiao promised, loath to leave her running around the city alone. Wanyan nodded, happily accepting his consideration.
Once dinner concluded, Wanyan handled the dishes while Tingxiao headed out to the yard to bore a drainage hole through a large slab of stone and secure the new washbasin. His physical strength made quick work of the task, and he finished the plumbing in just over half an hour.
With the basins aligned, he turned his attention to the backyard pavilion. He anchored the frame securely against the main brick wall of the house, enclosing two sides with tightly woven bamboo netting to keep the interior bone-dry even during a heavy downpour.
He labored long into the night, the exertion leaving him completely drenched in sweat. Watching him from the window, Wanyan resolved to brew a large pot of chilled mung bean soup the next day to help him beat the heat. Pushing through grueling physical training under the blazing summer sun, only to come home and perform hours of carpentry, required an iron constitution; the fact that he hadn’t succumbed to heatstroke was proof of his remarkable health.
When he finally finished, Tingxiao walked over to the well, hauled up a bucket of freezing water, and dumped it straight over his head.
Wanyan shook her head at the sight. The man truly had no fear of catching a chill. Every single time she watched him douse himself in freezing well water, it nearly scared her to death. She was his polar opposite—no matter how scorching the summer heat became, she absolutely insisted on a steaming hot shower.
She stepped into the bedroom, retrieved a clean pair of shorts, and set them out on a smooth stone near the well.
Tingxiao wiped the water from his eyes. Catching sight of her slender, beautiful silhouette moving around the yard just to take care of him, a sudden flare of heat rushed through his veins. He quickly hauled up two more buckets of cold well water, dumped them over his head, and let out a long, shuddering breath to steady his racing thoughts.
Once he finished drying off, he carried a heavy bucket of steaming water into the bedroom for her bath.
As she soaked, Wanyan ran through a mental inventory of what their household still lacked. Some of the remaining necessities were bulky, heavy items that would require Tingxiao’s military connections to secure.
“We need to install two massive water storage tanks next to the kitchen and the outdoor wash station,” she called out through the door. “And we’ll need a few large earthenware crocks for pickling winter vegetables.”
“Leave it to me, wife. I’ll get them hauled in,” Tingxiao’s voice drifted back. Holding a position of genuine authority on the base meant sourcing a few storage jars was incredibly simple; he could easily have his comrades in the logistics department purchase them during their next supply run.
“Thank you.”
Wanyan’s thoughts drifted to the two vacant rooms on the left side of their house, trying to figure out how to maximize the space.
Tingxiao had already claimed the room nearest the backyard to store his axes, sickles, and maintenance equipment. It occurred to her that since they would be gathering firewood from the foothills, that space would serve as a perfect woodshed. Stowing the logs inside would keep them bone-dry, preventing them from rotting under the heavy winter snows.
The remaining room could serve as a comfortable guest room for now, and eventually, a nursery.
There were exactly three years left before the national college entrance examinations would resume, and she fully intended to have their child before that milestone arrived. Navigating a rigorous university schedule while heavily pregnant would be an absolute nightmare. Having a baby while she was young would also ensure her body recovered much faster.
Granted, with the restorative properties of her space’s spiritual spring water, she could easily bounce back as though she had never given birth, but the prospect of delivery still left her feeling a bit apprehensive. Childbirth took an undeniable toll on a woman’s body.
She envisioned their future clearly: once the exams resumed, she would move to the Capital and purchase a private courtyard house, bringing the baby along so she could study while hiring a trustworthy nanny to manage the daily childcare. As for the finer details, she would cross those bridges when she came to them. For now, she would let nature take its course, taking life one step at a time.
The next morning, Wanyan ate her breakfast, strapped on her woven backpack, and pedaled her bicycle toward the city.
Traveling into town was merely a convenient cover; her real purpose was to retrieve bulk supplies from her pocket dimension. Once she reached a completely deserted stretch of the dirt road with no onlookers in sight, she vanished into her space.
Knowing she couldn’t haul an impossible mountain of freight back to the compound without raising eyebrows, she limited her selection to twenty eggs, ten kilograms of fresh meat, a pig’s trotter, and a colorful assortment of her favorite vegetables. She paid special attention to the cabbage and radishes, planning to ferment a massive jar of traditional sour kimchi and a batch of fiery, crisp radishes. Cabbage was also the primary ingredient for the rich, Northeastern-style pickled greens she loved.
She had an absolute weakness for sour, spicy flavors, and Tingxiao shared her fondness for bold, robust seasoning. If she hadn’t been worried about the powerful aroma lingering in the house, she would have pulled out a packet of instant river snail rice noodles to cook right then and there.
The mere thought of the pungent, savory snail noodles made her mouth water. Unable to resist, she immediately set a pot to boil and prepared a bowl to satisfy her craving. To finish the feast, she plucked a handful of ripe strawberries and sweet cherries from her garden, washing them thoroughly before devouring them.
Full and content, Wanyan let out a small burp and returned to organizing the supplies she would be taking out. She resolved to cure the fresh meat into smoked ham to extend its shelf life, and she selected two crisp apples from her orchard to share with Tingxiao later.
Next, she navigated to her digital database, looking up an advanced hemostatic formula she had developed in her laboratory during her medical studies abroad.
She wanted to compound a batch of the powerful blood-clotting powder for Gu Tingxiao. Given the dangerous nature of his military deployments, having a highly effective medical aid on hand would give him an invaluable extra layer of protection in the field.
Her pocket dimension was well-stocked with medicinal flora, and the specific botanicals required for this formula were remarkably common and inconspicuous. If Tingxiao ever questioned her pharmaceutical expertise, she would simply claim she had apprenticed under an old master of Chinese medicine during her high school years. No one could verify the details of her past—not even her parents or her brother, despite having lived under the same roof. It was impossible for a family to track every single elective skill a teenager picked up after class. She felt immensely grateful for the original owner’s background; as a city girl who had been permitted to attend school continuously from childhood through graduation, it provided the perfect cover for her knowledge.
Wanyan set to work compounding the powder with practiced efficiency. Pharmacy was her absolute specialty in her previous life; even the elite academicians at Harvard had frequently lauded her as a rare medical prodigy. Originally, her grandest dream had been to become a elite trauma surgeon dedicated to saving lives, but she had ultimately been forced to sacrifice that passion to take the reins of the massive Sheng Corporate Group.
