Chapter 121 She...made quite a scene.
Nothing was said that night.
The other spot in the bed was cold, and the man beside her had gotten up sometime earlier.
Zhou Xiaoai kept her eyes open until the sky outside the window turned from dark blue to pale white before slowly sitting up and moving step by step to the dressing table.
The mirror reflected a haggard face, the dark circles under the eyes were impossible to conceal, and the fine lines at the corners of the eyes looked etched on, no matter what face cream was used to smooth them out.
There were many bottles and jars on the table, including Friendship Snow Cream, Pechoin, and clam oil brought from Shanghai through a friend. There were also some foreign goods that others had given as gifts.
She picked up a bottle of eyebrow pencil and looked in the mirror, but hesitated to use it.
She knew in her heart that the passion between her and Lao Zheng had long since faded. The only reason they slept in the same bed now was for the sake of appearances as "Political Commissar Zheng" and "Political Commissar's wife."
To maintain this facade, she went to great lengths to find the latest fabrics to make clothes, learned to perm her hair like city women, and spent lavishly on these bottles and jars, hoping to warm up the man's cold heart once more.
But what was the result...?
Zhou Xiaoai gave a self-deprecating twitch at the corner of her mouth; the woman in the mirror looked more like she was crying than smiling.
"What are you looking at?"
Political Commissar Zheng's voice suddenly rang out behind him. He was already dressed in a crisp military uniform, his epaulets gleaming in the morning light.
He walked over and placed his large hands on Zhou Xiaoai's shoulders.
"The Lunar New Year is almost here. If you feel bored at home, go out for a walk. The military compound has recently been decorated with lanterns, so it's starting to feel festive."
His words sounded like concern, but his tone was indifferent.
Zhou Xiaoai's heart skipped a beat. She raised her hand and gently placed it on the back of the man's broad hand, an unconscious gesture of affection from a wife.
But the moment her fingertips touched his skin, his hand recoiled as if stung by something, silently yet swiftly.
Political Commissar Zheng straightened up, as if the brief contact had never happened.
"I'm going to work now, take your time."
Zhou Xiaoai's hand was still frozen in mid-air, her fingertips icy cold.
Looking at her sallow face in the mirror, she suddenly realized that perhaps Zhang Qiaoyun was right: no man is ever honest!
Feeling suffocated, she changed her clothes and decided to go find Zhang Qiaoyun to play a few rounds of mahjong to clear her mind.
To her surprise, just as she reached a short distance from Zhang Qiaoyun's building, she came across a glaring sight.
Commander Zhang was standing at the door, his tall frame almost completely encircling Zhang Qiaoyun in his arms. He had one arm intimately around his wife's waist, his head lowered, and his lips close to her ear, whispering something sweet and intimate.
The next second, Zhang Qiaoyun burst into laughter, her body limp as if she had no bones, leaning against the man's chest. Then she raised her fist and lightly punched his chest.
"You rascal! In broad daylight, hurry up and get going, you'll be late for work!"
The coquettish tone of her voice gave Zhou Xiaoai goosebumps.
Commander Zhang laughed heartily, seemingly unconcerned, and kissed her on the cheek before reluctantly letting go. Looking up, he saw Zhou Xiao'ai not far away. He immediately stood up straight and saluted, saying, "Hello, sister-in-law!"
Zhou Xiaoai forced a stiff smile and nodded.
Commander Zhang smiled at her and strode away.
"Sister-in-law, what brings you here?" Zhang Qiaoyun greeted her with a beaming smile, her face still flushed.
Zhou Xiaoai glanced at her sideways and said irritably, "Who do we have here? We heard your laughter from far away. What, didn't you and your husband Zhang have such a heated argument a few days ago that you almost ripped the roof off?"
“Oh, sister-in-law, you don’t understand,” Zhang Qiaoyun said smugly, tossing her head and taking Zhou Xiaoai’s arm as they walked out. “Husbands and wives don’t hold grudges overnight. They make up before they get out of bed!”
Zhou Xiaoai smiled upon hearing this.
In her house, arguments only happen at the head of the bed; there's no such thing as making up at the foot of the bed.
As they walked, Zhou Xiaoai's mind raced, but she couldn't help but ask in a low voice, "Qiaoyun, let me ask you the truth... is that thing Le Yunyun is selling... really that effective?"
Upon hearing this, Zhang Qiaoyun was taken aback at first, then covered her mouth and burst out laughing. She leaned close to her ear and said, "Sister-in-law, I'm not bragging. Men are just like that; they may say no, but their bodies tell a different story. If we women use a little trickery, just a flick of our finger, they'll be all over us!"
The phrase "eagerly came over" made Zhou Xiaoai feel as if she had been scratched by a cat's claw, both itchy and numb.
But when she thought about how disdainful she had been in front of Jiang Wanqiu yesterday, she felt ashamed to ask those two little girls to buy her things.
Just as she was struggling with her inner conflict, a tall and upright figure walked towards her.
"Battalion Commander Zhao?" Zhang Qiaoyun spoke first.
Zhou Xiaoai also raised her head.
The visitor was none other than Zhao Wenchang.
What time is it? The whistle for the troops' training exercise has already sounded. Why hasn't he, the battalion commander, arrived at the training ground yet?
Zhou Xiaoai's gaze inadvertently swept across his handsome face, and then her heart skipped a beat.
Zhao Wenchang's deep eyes were bloodshot and red, as if he hadn't slept all night.
But that wasn't the worst part. The worst part was that, below the collar of his military uniform, which was buttoned up perfectly, on the side of his neck, there was a very conspicuous purplish-red mark!
That mark...it's clearly a tooth mark!
She suddenly remembered that Zhao Wenchang's wife was none other than Jiang Wanqiu, the woman who sold nightgowns and looked like a little vixen!
It's obvious how intense the couple must have been last night to leave such indelible "evidence" on Battalion Commander Zhao!
Zhao Wenchang clearly noticed their gazes. He awkwardly raised his hand to touch his neck, and for the first time ever, a hint of embarrassment flashed across his usually stern face.
"Aunt Zhang, Aunt Zhou," he greeted in a hoarse voice, then hurried away.
Zhao Wenchang, a well-known iron-fisted battalion commander in this military region and an unwavering training pacesetter, was unusually late today.
This was the first time in all his years of military service.
Because last night, his charming little wife really did... make quite a scene.
Meanwhile, the culprit, Jiang Wanqiu, was still fast asleep at home.
When Jiang Wanqiu returned home yesterday, she sat cross-legged on her warm kang (heated brick bed), with a pile of colorful and oddly shaped trinkets spread out in front of her.
These were all things she created from her own space.
A small glass bottle, intricately carved with delicate patterns, contains an amber-colored liquid—rose-scented essential oil; a candle, not the usual red or white wax, but a pale pink one, emitting a sweet, fruity fragrance when smelled closely; and a palm-sized wooden lump with a small handle, inlaid with several rolling beads…
Jiang Wanqiu squinted, resting her chin on one hand, and tapped the objects one by one with the index finger of the other hand.
She needs to quickly figure out how to use these things, otherwise she might not be able to utter a single word if she encounters a customer like Zhang Qiaoyun again.
The door was pushed open, and Zhao Wenchang returned, took off his military cap and hung it on the wall. His gaze swept across the room, finally settling on the messy pile of things on the kang (a heated brick bed) in the inner room, and he raised his eyebrows slightly.
"What is this?" he asked in a deep voice as he unbuttoned the top button of his military jacket.
"Good stuff." Jiang Wanqiu winked at him and patted the empty seat next to her. "Come here, I'll give you a try."
Zhao Wenchang took off his coat, leaving him in only a military green shirt, the fabric clearly outlining the muscular lines of his strong chest and arms.
He strode over and sat down on the edge of the kang (a heated brick bed) in a few steps, his tall figure exuding a sense of oppression.
Zhao Wenchang glanced at the bottles and jars, a hint of confusion in his eyes, before finally fixing his gaze on his wife's overly bright and beautiful face.
"Well, to put it simply, everything you see is for... to liven things up," Jiang Wanqiu explained upon seeing this.
"So you want me to try it out?" He repeated, a half-smile playing on his lips. "What, you think your man's no good anymore, so you need these things to liven things up?"
These words were blunt and direct, with a rough and unrefined quality.
Jiang Wanqiu was taken aback by his words and rolled her eyes at him in annoyance.
That one glance was full of charm, a hint of coquettishness in her reproach.
"What nonsense are you talking about!" She stretched out her fair finger and poked his hard chest. "I'm doing this for work! I've never even used these things myself, how can I introduce them to others? Today, someone asked me what it's like to use them, and I couldn't even describe it. I can't sell them!"
"That's all?" He still seemed a little disgusted, his gaze sweeping over the pile of things. "I think only impotent men need this."
Jiang Wanqiu sensed the contempt in his words, pulled her hand out of his palm, and snorted.
She deliberately moved back a little, widening the distance between them, and slowly looked him up and down with her foxy eyes.
"Really? If you don't think it's possible and don't want to help, then forget it." She said slowly, making a move to pack her things as she spoke. "Anyway, there are plenty of strong young men in the cultural troupe. If it doesn't work, I'll try to find someone else to help. Maybe they'll be willing."
As soon as she finished speaking, the man beside her suddenly became tense.
"You dare!"
Zhao Wenchang took the bait as expected.
She knew this trick would always work on him.
"I was wrong, I was wrong," she immediately admitted, knowing when to stop. "You're the only man I have, who else can I turn to? Please help me, Battalion Commander Zhao?"
He raised a single eyebrow, leaned back, and tilted his chin up, which was tantamount to tacit approval.
"Let's make it clear, this is the only time."
"Okay!"
To be on the safe side, she decided to start with the safest option.
She picked up the pale pink scented candle, lit it with a match, and a wisp of sweet-smelling smoke rose up. Soon, the room was filled with a sweet but not cloying peach scent.
She placed the candle on the small table by the kang (heated brick bed) and looked at Zhao Wenchang expectantly: "How is it? How does it feel?"
Zhao Wenchang closed his eyes, took a sniff, and his brows relaxed.
"The taste is not bad, it smells nice."
And then? And then nothing happened.
He opened his eyes, looked at his wife's face which was full of "tell me how it feels," and honestly shook his head: "It smells nice, but I don't feel anything else."
"This shouldn't be..." Jiang Wanqiu muttered. Didn't the book say that this scent could relax people and even inspire feelings? How come all he could think of was "smells good"?
Let's try something else then.
Continue read on readnovelmtl.com
