"Song Yaoyao, what's wrong with you? What nonsense are you spouting!"
Zhou Shuyao roared in anger.
The triplets behind him, who were already crying like cats, were nearly knocked out by the shout.
Wang Guihua was heartbroken and wanted to hug the child, but she was afraid of upsetting Song Yaoyao, so she could only worry helplessly.
Sure enough, Song Yaoyao, who had just been slapped, was like a bomb going off. Ignoring the fact that she had just given birth and had stitches, she jumped out of bed and started scratching Zhou Shuyao's face frantically. "I'm lying? What did I say wrong? Do you dare swear to God that you didn't sleep with Ling Huanwu? You all won't let me have a good time, and I won't let you have a good time either!"
Zhou Shuyao froze on the spot, unable to refute, letting Song Yaoyao's sharp nails leave bloody marks on his face.
Ling Huanwu took a deep breath, turned her head to meet the gazes of the group of aunties outside the house, her face turned pale, and she dared not look at Zhou Jiuzhen's face. She turned around and ran out through the crowd.
She never expected that Song Yaoyao would bring up things from her previous life here.
Now that Zhou Jiuzhen has amnesia, he has probably forgotten everything that happened before and misunderstood her and Zhou Shuyao.
The midday sun was blazing. Ling Huanwu ran back, but after only a few steps, her wrist tightened, and she fell backward into a hard embrace.
Zhou Jiuzhen steadied her firmly, holding her hand tightly with his own, and said with a worried expression, "Ling Zhiqing, where did you run off to? I'm so sorry, my sister-in-law probably has some mental issues and is talking nonsense, please don't mind her!"
"My brother is such a troublemaker, how could Ling Zhiqing possibly be interested in him? It's laughable!"
Ling Huanwu was stunned for a moment, not expecting him to believe her without any reason.
Her eyes welled up with tears, and the next second she burst out laughing.
"Yes, I've never liked him."
Zhou Jiuzhen's lips curled slightly, and he tightened his grip on Ling Huanwu's hand, continuing to probe, "So what kind of girl does Ling Zhiqing like?"
His eyes sparkled as he asked the question, like a lake of five colors shimmering with starlight, full of anticipation.
Ling Huanwu pursed her lips and chuckled, deliberately avoiding looking at him. "You like guys with eight-pack abs, you know that, right?"
"Yes, I understand!"
Zhou Jiuzhen's smile stretched so wide it almost reached his ears, like a big, grinning dog.
If it had a tail, it would probably wag like a propeller.
As Zhou Shuyao came out of the house, he caught up with Ling Huanwu and heard her say that she "didn't think much of him." He felt as if he had been pierced by a thousand arrows, and he collapsed to the ground in pain.
He watched helplessly as the two walked away hand in hand, almost fainting from the sheer amount of PDA they displayed, tears streaming down his face.
*
In the army canteen.
The soldiers had just finished their morning tactical drills, their military green uniforms still covered in dust. They were shoveling pearl white rice into their mouths from their enamel bowls, filling the mess hall with the sounds of them eating.
With a loud bang, the canteen door was pushed open, and Zhou Jiuzhen strode in, his military boots thumping on the ground.
The moment he and Ling Huanwu walked in hand in hand, the chewing sounds in the entire cafeteria came to an abrupt halt, and more than a hundred pairs of eyes instantly fixed on the girl.
Political Commissar Hao, who was eating, was so shocked that his eyes widened. With a "crash," his spoon fell to the ground, and he spat out the seaweed soup he was eating.
"Wow, so this is the woman Commander Zhou is so determined to be with, even if it means getting a divorce?"
"By the way, why does this sweetheart look so familiar? She looks just like the capitalist's wife the regimental commander had before!"
"Didn't he say he brought a girl he liked? Could it be that the girl Commander Zhou likes is his own wife? Don't be ridiculous..."
The soldiers were talking amongst themselves.
Zhou Jiuzhen paid no attention to what they were saying. After arranging a seat for Ling Huanwu, he excitedly pulled Political Commissar Hao, who was eating half of his meal, aside with his lunchbox and boasted, "Old Hao, I finally brought her! She said she likes eight-pack abs. This afternoon we'll add a push-up and shooting session. I want to show her my perfect physique..."
Listening to his incessant boasting, Political Commissar Hao was utterly speechless, looking at him with a gaze that was hard to describe.
Strange things happen every year, but this is the first time someone has mistaken their wife for the right one and then pursued the right person.
Seeing that the remaining garlic sprouts and cured pork in the enamel basin of the canteen was almost gone, Zhou Jiuzhen quickly shut up and stopped showing off. He scooped up a large iron box full and presented it to Ling Huanwu like a treasure.
In the afternoon, Ling Huanwu, having eaten and drunk her fill, was dragged to the training ground to watch.
On the training field.
The wind at the firing range carried the smell of gunpowder.
Zhou Jiuzhen stood 50 meters away from the firing line, holding a standard rifle, his posture as straight as an old pine tree.
At eighteen, he doesn't remember anything from the past few years.
All he knew was that the moment he opened his eyes, he suddenly transformed into a sharpshooter capable of hitting a target from a hundred paces away.
This is absolutely amazing!
At that moment, he didn't even aim much; his arm was steadily raised and level, and the action of pulling the trigger was clean and efficient.
Several crisp "bang bang bang" sounds rang out in succession, and the distant target shook in response. The target signaler waved the flag frantically.
The bullet hit the bullseye every time, leaving a hole that looked almost completely punctured.
The new recruit next to him was still blushing because of the eight rings he had just shot, but he had already changed the magazine and was facing the moving target sideways.
The sunlight slanted down his taut jawline, and the force with which his knuckles tapped the trigger was precise. Another round of rapid fire followed, the target falling faster than the sound of the firing signal.
Ling Huanwu stood outside the cordon, almost dropping the honey water that Zhou Jiuzhen had just given her.
In her previous life, she accompanied some big bosses to a shooting range in Hong Kong. They were all amateur novices, and their shooting was so bad it was unbearable to watch.
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