Just as Qin Lei was parking the car, Director Chen in the driver's seat stared intently at Shen Huaichuan's cold profile. As if struck by lightning, his face turned deathly pale, and beads of cold sweat instantly appeared on his forehead.
He flung open the car door and practically stumbled out, bending low and his voice trembling uncontrollably:
"Commander Shen... Commander Shen?! You are... Commander Shen Huaichuan, a combat hero of our military region?! Oh my god! I was so... so blind! My apologies! I was so disrespectful!"
His face was filled with fear and obsequiousness, a stark contrast to his previous affected sense of superiority.
Upon hearing this, Shen Huaichuan merely turned his head slightly, his gaze lingering on Director Chen's terrified face for less than a second, as if he were looking at an insignificant object.
He gave a curt "hmm" in response, not bothering to say another word.
He then turned to Zhou Qiqi, his gaze instantly becoming focused and gentle. He reached out and naturally put his arm around her shoulder, leading her a step toward the jeep.
At the same time, he firmly took Zhouzhou's little hand in his other hand, his voice low but unquestionable:
"Qiqi, Zhouzhou, let's go home."
He didn't look at Director Chen once more, as if the man and his ostentatious car were nothing more than insignificant clods of dirt on the roadside.
The Jeep engine let out a powerful growl, carrying the family of three, and quickly disappeared into the vast night, leaving only two taillights that swiftly disappeared into the distance.
Director Chen stood frozen in place, maintaining his bent-over posture, until the shadow of the jeep was completely out of sight. Only then did he straighten up abruptly, as if his bones had been removed, his face turning from white to green, and then from green to purple.
He slammed his fist hard on the hood of the car, making a dull thud that was particularly jarring in the quiet night.
"You idiot! You stupid woman!"
He climbed into the car, slammed the door shut, and growled at Chen's mother, who was terrified in the back seat, the veins on his neck bulging.
"Didn't you keep saying she was just a country seamstress?! Huh? A country seamstress?! Her husband is Shen Huaichuan! A combat hero registered in the military region! A regimental commander with a promising future! Even the mayor thinks highly of him! Let alone me, a lowly section chief! If I offend him, how will I ever get promoted!"
He was so angry that he was trembling all over, and his fingers were almost poking Chen's mother's face.
"I came to a banquet, and here I am—the deputy mayor's father! Shen Huaichuan! I've offended both of them at once! You...you're trying to get me killed!"
"I...how would I know..."
Chen's mother held Chen Jiaojiao, who was equally terrified and had even forgotten to cry. Her lips trembled, her face was as white as paper, and her mind was buzzing.
In contrast, the atmosphere in Shen Huaichuan's car was much more harmonious. The family sat in the back seat, chatting and laughing as they returned to the military dependents' area.
After a long day of running around and the commotion at the banquet, Zhou Qiqi and Zhouzhou were exhausted.
Zhouzhou went to sleep after taking a shower.
Zhou Qiqi took a nice, long shower.
The warm water washed away her fatigue. She dried her wet hair as she left the bathroom, returned to her bedroom, and turned on the tape recorder she had just borrowed from Zhu Yingying's house.
"The years of youth are like a river, and the river of time flows into a song..."
A soothing yet slightly melancholic melody flowed through the quiet room.
It was that song, "An Unforgettable Song".
Zhuo's mother was thoughtful; knowing that Zhou Qiqi had been interrupted halfway through listening in the study, she specially gave her the cassette tape to bring back.
Zhou Qiqi sat down at her desk and turned on the desk lamp.
Her half-finished design sketch was spread out on the table.
She listened to the music while picking up a pencil, the tip scratching on the paper.
Under the light, the pencil lines flowed smoothly, slowly materializing the emotions in the song into the outline of clothing.
When Shen Huaichuan walked in, drying his hair, this was the scene that greeted him:
The warm yellow light enveloped his wife's focused profile, her wet hair hanging down her neck, and a nostalgic melody flowed from the tape recorder. The pen in her hand seemed to dance on the paper with some kind of rhythm.
He slowed his pace.
Hearing the noise, Zhou Qiqi looked up and saw him. A natural smile appeared on her face. She casually gathered up the few sketches she had drawn and stacked them aside.
"Are you done washing?"
"Um."
Shen Huaichuan approached, his gaze sweeping over what she was drawing, but he didn't ask any further questions.
Zhou Qiqi took out a bulging brown paper bag from under the table and handed it to him: "Here, for you."
"What is this?"
Shen Huaichuan accepted it with some doubt.
"I bought it at the department store with Zhouzhou today."
Zhou Qiqi wiped the water droplets from the ends of her hair.
"Photo albums, and a few photo frames. Your precious photos are just stuffed in the cookie tin. What are you going to do if they turn yellow and brittle after all these years? You need to take good care of them."
Her tone was full of concern.
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