"What is it?" Xia Baozhu asked.

"Remember to close the doors and windows properly," Song Yaoyang said casually.

"I understand. Is there anything else?" Xia Baozhu asked, seeing Song Yaoyang standing still.

How's your hand? Can you still carry sandbags tomorrow?

To Xia Baozhu, Song Yaoyang's words meant: "Won't your hands interfere with your work?"

"Carrying sandbags is no problem."

Xia Baozhu planned to sew a thick shoulder pad by moonlight later, so that her shoulders wouldn't hurt when she carried sandbags next time.

"Where is the needle and thread?" she then asked, raising her voice.

This truck is often used for long-distance travel and is fully equipped with all necessary supplies.

"It's hard to say where it's located, let me go up and find it for you." Song Yaoyang immediately thought of a way to get closer to it.

Xia Baozhu put all her dirty clothes into a bag so that Song Yaoyang wouldn't feel embarrassed when he came up.

Song Yaoyang retrieved a needle and thread from the driver's seat and handed it to Xia Baozhu.

"It's too dark now, let me turn on the flashlight for you." As he spoke, Song Yaoyang took out another flashlight.

"Thank you." Xia Baozhu was somewhat surprised that Song Yaoyang could be so considerate.

She thought he was the kind of person who wouldn't even bother to help a woman who had fallen in front of him.

In some respects, Xia Baozhu's guess was quite accurate.

Although Song Yaoyang served in the army for several years and is capable of doing good deeds and helping others, it would be very difficult for him to help someone who can get up on their own.

He believes that things a person can do do without the help of others.

This unnecessary help will also waste his time.

Xia Baozhu pulled a soft top out of her luggage bag.

Do you have scissors?

"Yes." Song Yaoyang handed over the scissors.

Xia Baozhu cut the clothes in half and sewed two wide strips on each half. She felt the thickness and thought it was about the same.

Sew the shoulder pads inside the coat I'll wear tomorrow.

"Your method is good, sew one for me too."

Xia Baozhu looked at Song Yaoyang's shoulder. Like most people, he was wearing only a simple white vest.

His shoulders were broad and strong, with some redness, not serious, but if it continued, they would become like the shoulders of the soldiers stationed at the dam.

“Okay.” Xia Baozhu thought Song Yaoyang couldn’t do needlework, so she asked her for help.

Upon hearing Xia Baozhu's agreement, a hint of joy flashed across Song Yaoyang's face, and he almost couldn't suppress the urge to curl his lips into a smile.

Xia Baozhu took out a dress that she could no longer wear, cut it open, and sewed a long, wide, thick strip of fabric with an arc shape.

Two wide straps were sewn at both ends, like a scarf, so that it could be tied directly around the neck.

It would be even better if we had cotton.

Watching Xia Baozhu's bandaged hands deftly stitching, Song Yaoyang felt the car interior shrink, so small that he could almost smell Xia Baozhu's fragrance.

It was faint and delicate, like the scent of flowers, very pleasant.

He couldn't help but lean closer to the passenger seat, causing the flashlight beam to flicker and attracting Xia Baozhu's curious glance.

Song Yaoyang remained calm and composed, as if he had moved casually, or perhaps to make the light shine brighter on Xia Baozhu.

Her hands were slender and long, fair and tender, with shell-like nails that shone with a healthy and beautiful pink hue.

She was wearing a long-sleeved, pearl-white blouse, the fabric smooth and silky. Part of her long, wavy hair fell in front, obscuring half of her face.

The profile of her face, visible to Song Yaoyang, was fair and delicate in the moonlight, as if it were glowing, exuding a holy beauty.

The image of the Moon Goddess became tangible in Song Yaoyang's mind; at this moment, Xia Baozhu seemed to be formed from the moonlight.

Song Yaoyang had seen many good-looking people, but this was the first time he had ever felt his heart flutter.

Just like that flutter of the heart on that cold night last year.

He was enraged from being chased and looked at her with a chilling and murderous aura.

Her beautiful eyes, though showing no fear or timidity beyond vigilance, left a deep impression on him.

Subsequent interactions made this self-important man experience the feeling of being underestimated, which greatly annoyed and embarrassed him.

He gave her the nickname "Wooden Head".

He felt a mixture of smugness and disdain when she called him later.

Her failure to show up again pushed his patience to its limit, and he couldn't be bothered to talk to her anymore.

He later met her at the company, and luckily, on a whim, he invited her to dinner, which cleared up his initial doubts and allowed him to see another side of her.

While disliking her blockheadedness, he also wanted to learn more about her.

Every single one of the advertising photos she took was radiant and beautiful, a stark contrast to her wooden head.

He specifically mentioned at the meeting that the autumn clothing shoot should be done as soon as possible, and then held another meeting when she came to take photos to see her performance on set.

As the photos show, she has a natural talent and flair for photography, and knows how to use her own features to showcase the beauty of clothing.

It looks good, but he still felt like something was missing.

Therefore, unlike others, he rejected the suggestion to have her shoot a commercial.

Then, on a whim, I came up with the idea of ​​having her act.

Thinking of this, Song Yaoyang forgot to tell the crew that Xia Baozhu couldn't go.

Forget it, let's find another opportunity.

"Alright!" Xia Baozhu's voice interrupted Song Yaoyang's replay of her past.

He looked into Xia Baozhu's eyes, and there was a hint of pride in them, as if he had done something remarkable.

Song Yaoyang took the oddly shaped shoulder pad, examined it for a moment, and said earnestly, "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

If it were Song Yaoyang, whom Xia Baozhu knew before, she would only make one for him if he paid her.

Now, she has sacrificed a dress she liked to make this ordinary and not very attractive shoulder pad.

Because Song Yaoyang's image has completely changed in her eyes now.

During this flood relief effort, she saw a man who was extremely responsible, kind, and thoughtful.

This made her previous evaluations of him, such as being petty, arrogant, and all-powerful, vanish.

She felt a growing respect for him.

Of course, she admires everyone who is fighting on the front lines of flood control, including herself.

Song Yaoyang lowered his head and touched his shoulder pad, trying to find something to say, but his mind was blank and he was tongue-tied. The more anxious he became, the less he could think of anything to say.

As time ticked by, he still didn't know what to say.

Song Yaoyang finally couldn't hold back any longer. He gave Xia Baozhu a word of advice and hurriedly got out of the car.

After getting off the bus, Song Yaoyang stepped into the mud and angrily kicked it far away.

"How stupid!" he cursed himself in anger.

"What?" Xia Baozhu asked from inside the car when she heard his voice.

"It's nothing, you should rest."

Song Yaoyang was glad that he had spoken very softly. If Xia Baozhu had thought he was cursing at her, he would have been finished.