Inside the office, the documents on Xie Yun's desk were piled up like two small mountains. An urgent report with wet ink was inserted diagonally among the files to be approved, and the official letter from the Japanese consulate was prominently placed on top. The paper of the official letter was brand new, and the wording seemed respectful and polite, but the aggressiveness between the lines was obvious.
Since the outbreak of the epidemic in the southern suburbs, the sharp and critical reports of the Juewu Newspaper have been like a sharp sword, pointing directly at the various crimes of the Japanese. Xie Yun was caught between various forces. After weighing the pros and cons, he had no choice but to take the measure of temporarily closing the newspaper. However, this compromise obviously failed to calm the anger of the Japanese.
"Young Marshal, there's a telegram from General Liu." Zhou Lin's voice broke the slightly dull atmosphere, and he handed over a secret telegram.
Xie Yun unfolded the telegram, his eyes wandering between the words. Gradually, a sneer appeared on the corners of his lips. Recently, Liu Chu had frequent contacts with Japanese leaders. This telegram actually directly demanded severe punishment for the editor-in-chief of the Awakening Newspaper. The sentence at the end, "If necessary, drastic measures may be taken," was even more of a blatant threat.
"Reply: The criminal is in custody and is being interrogated in detail." He said in a cold tone.
Zhou Lin hesitated, and said, "Then Mr. Qiu and the others..."
"Arrange it to the West Suburbs Villa, and assign a few more reliable people to guard it." Xie Yun rubbed his brows, "The Japanese are keeping a close eye on it, and we can't let them catch us."
The situation in Shanxi had not yet been stabilized, and secret reports came from the Jinpu Line about the frequent deployment of the Japanese army. Faced with internal and external troubles, Xie Yun felt his temples throbbing. The mountains of military tasks in recent days made the fatigue between his brows even more intense, and he seemed to be shrouded in a layer of haze.
"Let's release some smoke bombs." Xie Yun tapped the tabletop rhythmically, "Let the Japanese think that Editor-in-Chief Qiu is no longer in Tianjin."
Zhou Lin understood what he meant and quickly replied, "No, I'll arrange it right away." He looked at Xie Yun's tired expression and added, "Young Marshal, I've declined the gifts sent today according to the rules of previous years."
Xie Yun was slightly startled when he heard this, and his eyes were briefly dazed for a moment. After a long while, he said "hmm" faintly, and his expression quickly returned to normal.
Outside the window, dusk fell, and the church bells in the distance struck eight. Zhou Lin glanced at his pocket watch and reminded him, "Young Marshal, it's already midnight, are you going home?"
Xie Yun was shocked to realize that time had been delayed to this point.
He suddenly remembered how Zheng Wanqing stood in the corridor and straightened his collar when he went out this morning. She hesitated to speak, and her eyes seemed to hide something, but he was in a hurry to go out, his mind was full of military duties, so he didn't have time to ask more.
He slowly stood up, picked up the military cap from the hanger, put it firmly on his head, then turned around and said, "Prepare the car."
The drive back home was only ten minutes, but Xie Yun seemed to have sunk into a deep pool. He leaned back on the leather seat, the wrinkles between his brows never smoothed out, and even his breathing was so light that it was almost inaudible.
He kept his eyes closed until the car stopped steadily in front of the mansion, and his thick eyelashes cast a shadow under his eyes.
"Young Marshal, we're here." Zhou Lin called out in a low voice.
Xie Yun suddenly opened his eyes, and a trace of trance flashed in his eyes.
He raised his hand to wipe his face before opening the car door. The night wind blew fine snow in his face, freezing cold, but he was completely unaware and walked straight into the door of his mansion.
His mind was filled with the pressure of the situation, and he didn't notice at all that there were three more vermilion lanterns hanging in front of the door than usual, exuding a different kind of festive atmosphere.
As he passed through the screen wall, a faint fragrance stopped him in his tracks.
Xie Yun suddenly woke up from his dream and noticed that the lantern in the corridor had been quietly replaced with a Suzhou embroidery silk lantern. A lotus embroidered with gold thread and covered with crimson gauze was swaying in the wind.
In the celadon vase at the corner, a few branches of wintersweets were inserted diagonally, with unmelted snow still condensed on the tender yellow petals. Even the front hall, which had always been solemn and dignified, was now covered with dark-patterned brocade.
Zheng Wanqing stood quietly in the middle of the hall. The dark red cheongsam made her look more charming and beautiful. She was wearing a snow fox fur waistcoat. The warm yellow light cast a soft halo around her.
"You're back." Her eyes and eyebrows were curved, and her voice was three points lighter than usual.
Xie Yun was completely awakened by this gentle call. He looked at the warm figure at the end of the lights and suddenly remembered what Mr. Ye had said.
"Yumin, do you know why I always urge you to get married?" The old man stroked his beard and smiled kindly, "The most comforting thing in the world is that when you return home at dusk, there is always someone who leaves a light on for you."
At this moment, looking at Zheng Wanqing who was waiting for him in the hall, Xie Yun felt that the fatigue that had been accumulated in his heart for days melted away without a trace like snow meeting the early sun.
"Why are you standing here waiting for me?" He walked quickly forward and placed his palm on the back of Zheng Wanqing's hand. When he felt the coldness, he frowned slightly, "Your hands are so cold, aren't you afraid of getting frozen?" His tone was full of blame and pity.
Zheng Wanqing did not respond to his concern, but stood on tiptoe to help him untie the laces of his cloak.
Her fingertips accidentally brushed against his cold neck, causing her to let out a soft "ah".
"There's some chicken soup in the kitchen. Would you like to have a bowl to warm yourself up?"
Xie Yun held her wrist, his thumb unconsciously stroking the twig-shaped embroidery on the cuff. The pattern was exquisite and unique, and the silver thread glowed in fragments under the lamp.
"Newly made?" He glanced at her body and realized that everything she wore was carefully put together.
"Yeah." Zheng Wanqing's ears blushed slightly, and she lowered her head to adjust the cloak he had taken off. "When I asked you last month, you said there was no need to make a big fuss..." Her voice gradually lowered, "But I was thinking..."
Before he could finish his words, he was wrapped in a cold embrace.
Xie Yun buried his face deep in her shoulder. The chill from his military uniform had not yet dissipated, but his breath was burning hot on her neck. He smelled the sweet jasmine scent in her hair, mixed with the faint incense on her clothes, and he felt that it was more effective than any calming incense.
"Are you tired?" she asked softly, rubbing the back of his tense neck with her fingertips.
He shook his head, his hands still tightly around Zheng Wanqing's waist.
"Let's eat first." She patted his back gently, like coaxing a child, "I asked the kitchen to make steamed shad with rice wine, and the crab meat and crab meat stew you praised last time."
Xie Yun finally let her go, and looked into her clear eyes in the warm light in the room. He nodded gently, with a smile on his face: "Okay."
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