Chapter 150
If Wen Qing hadn't been there, she would definitely have held Wen Yanxi's face and kissed him twice.
Chen Zhaoyue's words "wedding dress" were like an invisible needle that pricked Wen Qing gently.
Wen Qing suddenly lowered his head and pushed the lunch box on the table towards Wen Yanxi, his voice muffled in his chest: "Eat...eat while it's hot. I...have things to do in the team!"
Before he could finish his words, he turned around and rushed out as if his tail had been stepped on, forgetting to close the door.
Chen Zhaoyue walked over and closed the door tightly, then turned back to look at Wen Yanxi: "What happened to him? He ran so fast."
Wen Yanxi glanced at the empty courtyard outside the door. He didn't respond, but simply opened the lid of the lunch box with his uninjured right hand. The hot steam from the food blurred his expression. He picked up his chopsticks and fiddled with the food in the lunch box: "Nothing, maybe something really happened. Let's eat."
Night fell, soaking the courtyard like thick ink. The dim light cast two close shadows on the wall.
Chen Zhaoyue lowered his head and carefully unwound the bandage on Wen Yanxi's left arm. The wound, exposed to the light, showed that the nasty redness and swelling had mostly subsided, and the edges were beginning to close, revealing new, tender red flesh. The healing speed was astonishingly fast.
Chen Zhaoyue dipped her slender fingertips into the cool, slightly sticky herbal ointment and gently applied it to the skin around the wound. Her fingertips, with a strange, reassuring coolness, slowly traced the edges of the taut scar. The air was filled with the bitter yet refreshing scent of herbs.
With the spiritual spring water and her special medicine, Wen Yanxi's burned skin recovered quickly.
Chen Zhaoyue tapped the skin that had healed incredibly quickly with her fingertips, and lowered her voice, "...it's healing quickly, but it's only been half a month until the eighth day of the Lunar New Year."
She raised her eyes, her clear pupils reflecting the flickering lights and a clear worry, "Uncle, will you be able to lift your arms when the time comes? We'll have to salute, toast... there's so much to do."
Wen Yanxi lowered his eyes, his gaze fixed on her focused profile. The light gave her delicate skin a soft golden edge.
He moved his left arm and felt a slight pulling sensation at the wound, but it was completely tolerable.
"It's okay." Wen Yanxi's voice was low and steady, with an unquestionable certainty. "The bones aren't completely broken. With your careful care, they're almost healed. You can do whatever you need to do when the time comes. There won't be any delay at all."
He paused, his gaze moving from her face to her wrist, where she had rolled up her sleeves and was showing a bit of stove ash. "But you, don't just dwell on this."
Chen Zhaoyue followed his gaze and saw the dust on her wrist. Her face heated up slightly and she subconsciously wanted to wipe it off with her sleeve.
"Don't move." Wen Yanxi stopped her. He stretched out his right hand, and with a somewhat clumsy but unusually persistent movement, he pinched the edge of her dusty cuff, twisted it gently, and then carefully rubbed off the unsightly stain with his fingertips.
Wen Yanxi's fingertips, thick with calluses from years of gripping guns, scraped across the delicate skin of her wrist, stirring a subtle tingling sensation. He handled it carefully, as if handling a fragile treasure. Finally, he released her hand, his tone still calm, "Let's go into town to look at wedding dresses. Have you decided what you want?"
Chen Zhaoyue's heart skipped a beat at his sudden, slightly clumsy thoughtfulness, like a pebble thrown into a calm lake. She lowered her head as if to conceal her feelings and continued wrapping the clean gauze layer by layer back onto his arm, her fingertips inadvertently brushing against the warm skin on the inside of his arm.
"Just... something ordinary will do. It doesn't have to be red, it looks elegant." Chen Zhaoyue's voice was light and airy, as if she was answering, but also as if she was talking to herself. "If it's too fancy, you can't wear it regularly. If you only wear it once and then put it in the closet, it's such a waste. I heard the nurses at the health center chatting, and they said that the supply and marketing cooperative recently received a new batch of cotton cloth, which is crisp and comes in many colors."
Wen Yanxi hummed, but his gaze seemed to penetrate her drooping eyelashes and catch the natural yearning for better things that flashed in the depths of her eyes.
He quietly watched her deft fingers tie the last knot, then he slowly spoke, his voice not loud but full of weight: "Cotton is fine. However, for someone who deserves you, silk wouldn't be too much."
These words were plain and without any sweet embellishment, but they were like a red-hot iron, burning Chen Zhaoyue's heart unexpectedly.
Chen Zhaoyue's fingers trembled violently, and a hot red glow instantly spread across his ears.
"You're right!" Chen Zhaoyue quickly kissed Wen Yanxi on the lips, then quickly lowered his head to collect the medicine jar and gauze. His heartbeat was pounding in his chest, making his fingertips numb. The inexplicable tension and uneasiness seemed to be quietly smoothed out by his clumsy yet straightforward words.
…
Wen Qimin acted quickly and went to see the political commissar Bai Jiang the next day.
In the office, Wen Qimin sat on a hardwood chair and got straight to the point: "Old Bai, there's a happy event at home, and I need your help."
Bai Jiang was reviewing documents with his head down. He looked up and pushed his glasses up on his nose. "Oh? Go ahead and tell me about the old leader's family."
"We're having a family banquet," Wen Qimin said, a rare smile on his face. "On the eighth day of next month, I'll be getting married to Comrade Chen Zhaoyue. We'll be in our army auditorium, just for a simple celebration. As the political commissar, I'll have to take care of the arrangements."
Bai Jiang's eyes lit up behind his glasses and he put down his pen. "Great! Yanxi finally got it done! Comrade Shen is a good girl! Don't worry, I'll take care of it!" He patted his chest with a soldier's energy. "The auditorium is ready, with all the tables and chairs in place. Just hang some red cloth and put up some wedding characters, and the atmosphere will be perfect! The cafeteria's head chef, Lao Liu, is a skilled cook. Let him take charge and we'll make sure everyone is satisfied! I'll go to the logistics department to figure out the drinks!"
Wen Qimin nodded: "Your words make me feel at ease. You can discuss the specifics with Yan Xi and the others. We old guys are just waiting to drink in the wedding wine."
"Okay!" Bai Jiang agreed immediately, and chatted with Wen Qimin about the latest situation of the troops before sending him away.
That evening, when Bai Jiang returned home, his wife Yue Xiulan was wearing an apron and kneading dough in front of the stove, preparing to steam buns. A thin layer of flour was sprinkled on the chopping board.
"Are you back? Wash your hands and get ready for dinner." Yue Xiulan said without raising her head.
Bai Jiang hung his military cap on a nail behind the door and moved to the stove. He watched his wife's flour-covered hands deftly roll and flatten the dough. With a hint of excitement, he said, "I have something to tell you. Wen Yanxi and Comrade Shen are getting married on the eighth day of next month! We'll have it in our military auditorium!"
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