Chapter 8 Military calls, he always has priority

Since the turbulent salon at the Cultural Activity Center, life had returned to a superficial calm. Lin Weiwei hadn't made any further moves, as if the confrontation that day had been just Su Wanqing's illusion. But Su Wanqing knew deep down that the sharp edge hidden beneath that seemingly gentle smile would never be easily subsided. She simply buried her vigilance deeper, acting with even greater caution and thoughtfulness.

That morning, sunlight filtered through the gaps in the heavy curtains, casting narrow patches of light across the floor. Su Wanqing had risen a little earlier than usual, and the delicate aroma of millet porridge wafted from the kitchen. She felt a rare urge to try making a simple breakfast in her nearly new kitchen.

The porridge was bubbling in the pot. She was lowering her head to cut a small dish of pickles. Her movements were not very skillful, but they were done with a kind of focused tranquility.

Sudden--

From the direction of the living room, a rapid, sharp, and penetrating ringtone rang out without warning!

The ringtone was different from that of an ordinary phone call. It was more urgent and louder, carrying an unmistakable urgency and majesty, instantly tearing apart all the tranquility and peace of the early morning.

Su Wanqing was so startled by the sudden noise that her hand trembled, and the tip of the knife almost cut her finger. She looked up suddenly, her heart tightening uncontrollably.

It's that red secret phone!

On her first day moving in, she noticed that besides the regular landline, there was an antique, bright red telephone on the living room coffee table, silently standing there like a dormant beast. Assistant Chen had briefly mentioned that it was a dedicated line directly to the military district's operations duty room, and it would never ring except in extreme circumstances.

Now, it rings.

Almost at the same time as the bell rang, the tightly closed door of the second bedroom next door was suddenly pulled open!

Huo Tingxiao's tall figure appeared at the doorway. He had clearly just woken up, his jet-black hair slightly disheveled. He was casually dressed in a military green training shirt and trousers, and barefoot. But his eyes were sharp as an eagle's, without the slightest hint of sleepiness, only complete clarity and an almost instinctive alertness and solemnity.

He didn't even glance at Su Wanqing in the kitchen, his attention completely focused on the red phone that was constantly chirping. He strode over, his steps steady and swift, and grabbed the receiver.

"I'm Huo Tingxiao." His voice was low and hoarse, but it carried absolute calmness and authority.

The person on the other end of the phone seemed to be reporting something very quickly.

Huo Tingxiao listened expressionlessly, his stern expression betrayed only by his tightly pursed lips and slightly furrowed brow. The sunlight fell on his angular profile, outlining its cold, hard lines.

"Location?"

"scale?"

"Our situation?"

"Is the communication smooth?"

He occasionally asked a few extremely short questions, his tone as cold as a knife, and every word seemed to be tempered with ice.

Su Wanqing stood at the kitchen door, still clutching the pickle knife. She watched the man, who had suddenly entered another state, like a tiger, dormant a moment before, now baring its claws, poised for prey. The invisible, powerful, oppressive feeling of a battlefield commander permeated her, making it almost impossible to breathe.

She suddenly understood the profound meaning of the word "soldier" and also understood why he could be absent from the wedding without hesitation.

In this man's heart, military orders are as heavy as a mountain and duty is above all else.

Personal feelings, even a marriage that is a matter of face, are so insignificant that they are not worth mentioning in the face of urgent military affairs.

"Order: Level 1 combat readiness. Activate Plan 'Sharp Sword.' I'll be at headquarters within thirty minutes." Huo Tingxiao's voice was firm and unwavering. With a snap, he hung up the phone.

The lingering ring of the red phone seemed to still vibrate in the air.

He turned abruptly, his eyes finally catching sight of Su Wanqing, who was frozen in the kitchen doorway. His gaze lingered on her face for less than half a second, devoid of any emotion, only the pure, cold, efficient handling of an emergency.

"There is a mission." He uttered these three words, which served as both an explanation and a notification.

Before he finished speaking, he had already rushed to the second bedroom.

In less than five minutes, he had changed into his neatly dressed uniform, his military cap straightened, and all his buttons buttoned neatly. He strode towards the entrance, carrying his black marching backpack.

During the entire process, he didn't look at Su Wanqing again, and didn't say a single unnecessary word.

At the entrance, he bent down and put on his military boots neatly and quickly.

Su Wanqing subconsciously took a few steps forward and opened her mouth, wanting to ask something, but her throat felt dry and she couldn't utter a single word. What could she ask? Where were they going? Was it dangerous? When would they be back?

These questions seem so pale and out of place at this moment.

He seemed to sense her approaching, and when he put on his shoes and stood up, he paused for a moment. But he still didn't turn around, just turned his back to her and said in a cold voice:

"Take good care of yourself."

After saying that, he opened the door and the slightly dazzling sunlight of the early morning poured in, outlining his tall and stern back.

A military off-road vehicle raced up silently like a beast and stopped precisely at the door. The orderly jumped out and respectfully opened the door.

Huo Tingxiao bent down and got into the car without hesitation.

The car door slammed.

The off-road vehicle roared, suddenly rushed out, and quickly disappeared at the end of the courtyard, leaving only a faint smell of exhaust in the air.

Everything happened so quickly, from the time the phone rang to the time he left, it was only seven or eight minutes.

Su Wanqing stood alone in the entrance hall which had suddenly become extremely empty and quiet, as if the thrilling scene just now was just her illusion.

Only the sense of urgency in the air that had not yet completely dissipated, and the faint smell of burnt porridge coming from the kitchen, reminded her of what had just happened.

She slowly turned around, walked back to the kitchen, and turned off the stove.

A small circle of burnt rice crust has formed on the edge of the millet porridge in the pot.

She looked at the pot of porridge, then looked out the window at the deserted road.

Deep down in my heart, a certain cognition became extremely clear and cold.

In this man's life sequence, the army, missions, and responsibilities always come first.

And she, and this marriage, may always be just insignificant existences that can be left behind without hesitation when his emergency assembly call is sounded.

"Take good care of yourself."

This was the only sentence he left behind. It sounded like concern, but in fact it was more like a cold program instruction.

She picked up the spoon and slowly stirred the slightly burnt porridge in the pot, but her eyes gradually calmed down, and even had a hint of stubborn understanding.

Now that she knew his priorities, she wouldn't have any unrealistic expectations.

She will take care of herself.

You must, and can only, take care of yourself.