The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 21

“You are doing something great; it was never going to be easy.”

“Keep going, Little Brother. Keep fighting tomorrow.”

Chen Che hadn’t expected those words to come from her. Every time they spoke, she brought him a new surprise.

Earlier that day, the data they had been calculating for half a month finally yielded results, but it was far from what the trial required—it was even worse than the previous test. The atmosphere in the unit was heavy. Many began to doubt: Could they really succeed? Foreign missile technology was already mature, while they were struggling even with initial tests. Could they truly catch up?

But listening to Song Mingyue now, Chen Che felt a sense of relief.

When Heaven is about to confer a great responsibility on a man, it must first exercise his mind and stiffen his muscles. Just as she said, success wouldn’t come easily. Weren’t they working so hard precisely because this task was difficult? If they gave up because of hardship, the New China wouldn’t exist today. He had forgotten the simple truth that the Long March was conquered one step at a time.

Chen Che tightened his grip on his chopsticks and looked up, his expression much more relaxed. He fixed his eyes on her and said, “Mingyue, thank you.”

“No need for thanks. Anyone would feel frustrated facing failure. It’s a normal reaction. Just let it out tonight and don’t put too much pressure on yourself.” She glanced around the room and noticed there was no alcohol, her tone turning regretful. “If we had wine, we could drink a bit. Drowning one’s sorrows works much better that way.”

Chen Che was surprised. “You drink?”

“I do. Do you think girls shouldn’t drink?”

“No.” Chen Che was too embarrassed to admit that he himself couldn’t touch a drop of alcohol. When his comrades went out to eat, he almost never drank.

Song Mingyue was different. In her past life, she not only drank but loved it; a small glass before bed helped her sleep. However, since arriving here, her insomnia seemed to have cured itself. Besides, she figured the alcohol brewed in this era probably didn’t taste that great anyway.

She had planned to tell him about her night school idea, but seeing his mood, she decided not to push it. After dinner, they retired to their respective rooms.

The next morning, Chen Che left for the unit early. Mingyue didn’t stay idle; she planned to head to the market. Yin Xiumei had told her that today was a market day, and if she wanted the best goods, she had to go early.

By the time she was ready to leave, the sun was getting high. She was terrified of the sun—back in her time, she never left the house without a thick layer of sunscreen and full protection. Now, she had nothing. After searching the house, she couldn’t find a single sun hat. Finally, she remembered the white silk scarf she brought from Pingcheng. She could tie it over her head to block the rays.

She happened to be wearing a deep purple dress today. Paired with the white silk scarf, the look was chic and high-end. Mingyue admired herself in the mirror, giving her fashionable eye a mental “thumbs up” before heading out.

She had a long list. The house was clean but plain, which didn’t suit her taste for refined living. She wanted decorations—posters to cover the peeling cement on the walls, and vases for the long table in the main hall. She loved flowers; just looking at them brightened her mood. Most importantly, the bedsheets were hideous and mismatched. She needed a proper four-piece set, and if she couldn’t find one, she’d have one custom-made.

At the gate, she ran into a neighbor also heading out. The woman was tall, roughly 170 cm, and looked slightly older than her. The woman stared at her curiously, and Mingyue gave a polite nod.

This was Zhang Jingjing. She had recently arrived from Inner Mongolia. Her husband’s unit wasn’t the same as Chen Che’s, and their dialects were different, so the two families weren’t acquainted despite living nearby.

Surprisingly, Zhang Jingjing initiated the conversation. “Why do you have a scarf tied on your head?”

“Oh, the sun is too strong. I’m afraid of tanning, so I’m using it as a shield.”

“You must be Commander Chen’s wife from the countryside, right?” Zhang Jingjing asked bluntly. Her parents were both working professionals and she grew up in a provincial capital, so she was used to speaking her mind.

Mingyue wasn’t about to be looked down upon. She countered calmly, “What’s the matter? You look down on the countryside? Your ideology is a bit off, sister. New China is led by the workers and peasants. If people knew you looked down on peasants, the consequences might be dire.”

Zhang Jingjing didn’t realize her rudeness. “Who said I look down on peasants? I just think some country people are unreasonable, aren’t they?”

“Of course not. Some city people are unreasonable, too. Poor temperament and low quality exist everywhere. Don’t go labeling people based on their background.”

“You’re quite the talker.” Zhang Jingjing actually admired people who were sharper than her. She followed Mingyue. “So, does tying a scarf really block the sun?”

“I don’t know,” Mingyue said coldly. “A little, I suppose.”

Hearing this, Zhang Jingjing ran home and dug out a silk scarf of her own. Coming from the wind-swept plains of Inner Mongolia, she had always thought everyone’s skin was dark like hers. Only after arriving at the compound did she realize southern girls had skin as tender as water. Her pride had taken a hit.

She tried to tie the scarf in front of the mirror, but it didn’t look nearly as good as Mingyue’s. She chased after Mingyue again. “I can’t tie this right. Can you help me?”

“No. We aren’t the same kind of people. Aren’t I just a ‘country person’ to you? I don’t like making friends with city folk,” Mingyue teased, having no interest in her.

“How can you be so petty? Fine, I apologize. I shouldn’t have looked down on country people.” Zhang Jingjing actually had a reason for her bias—a former “friend” from the country had once betrayed her by stealing the boy she liked using the very love letters Zhang Jingjing had asked her to deliver. But hearing Mingyue’s logic, she realized she was being unfair. She apologized loudly.

Mingyue turned around and looked at Zhang Jingjing’s red scarf with a frown. “You’re wearing a green blouse. Pairing it with a red scarf looks strange. Either change the clothes or the scarf.”

“Can you wait for me?”

Market days were best enjoyed early, but Mingyue decided a companion might be nice. She followed Zhang Jingjing back to her house. There, she saw strips of air-dried beef hanging by the door.

Beef jerky! In this era, that was a sign of a wealthy household.

Zhang Jingjing noticed her gaze. “Do you like beef? I’ll cut some for you when we get back.”

“How do you have so much?”

“My parents gave it to me before I left. It lasts a long time when dried. Don’t they do this where you’re from?”

“In my hometown, cows are for working. We rarely eat beef even on holidays,” Mingyue said. She used to love beef for her diet in her past life; she had almost forgotten the taste.

Zhang Jingjing’s wardrobe was full, but nothing looked good—all old-fashioned styles. Mingyue picked out a white short-sleeved blouse for her. “You should buy some new clothes. These are outdated.”

“I’m too tall,” Zhang Jingjing lamented. “I can’t find anything that fits in the department stores here. All the girls are small.”

“If the stores don’t have it, go to a tailor. You’re tall and slender; you’d look sophisticated in the right clothes.”

“Really?” Zhang Jingjing was ecstatic. It was the first time someone had praised her height as a fashion asset.

To Mingyue, Zhang Jingjing had a standard model’s physique. With the right styling, she would look high-end. Mingyue’s words were a huge boost to Zhang Jingjing’s self-esteem.

The two went to the market together. The street was packed with people and bicycles. Vendors sat on the roadside with baskets, giving the place a rustic, lively atmosphere.

As the temperature rose, the silk scarf became too hot. Mingyue headed for a sun hat stall. The hats were ugly—simple vine-woven things for farmers—but Mingyue bought one, planning to decorate it with small fabric flowers to change its “vibe.”

She couldn’t find a four-piece bedding set; even the department stores sold sheets and duvet covers separately. The clerk didn’t even understand the concept of a matching set. Mingyue went to a tailor and commissioned a set, designing the pattern herself.

Zhang Jingjing asked for advice on fabric colors. Mingyue suggested a two-tone patchwork. “Since you’re tall, stay away from standard skirts. Go very short, very long, or try bell-bottoms—they’re going to be popular soon.”

The tailor was impressed. “Have you studied tailoring, comrade?”

“No, but I’ve studied fashion design,” Mingyue replied.

Before leaving, Mingyue asked about Yin Xiumei’s daughter. Zhang Jingjing told her the girl, nicknamed “Little Butterfly,” was 7 years old and loved to play dress-up. Mingyue asked the tailor to make a dress for a 7-year-old girl, giving her a specific design.

When they returned to the compound, a group of women were gossiping near the gate. When they saw Mingyue, they froze.

She’s beautiful! They thought. Then who did we see the other night?

Rumors had already begun to shift as someone had seen Mingyue on the street and praised her purple dress. The “ugly bride with spots” faction didn’t believe it, so they had gathered to see for themselves. Now, seeing her bright eyes and fair skin, they were stunned.

Mingyue recognized a few of the “inspectors” from the first night. She smoothed her hair and walked up to them gracefully. “Is there a reason you’re standing in front of my door?”

“What happened to the black spots?” someone whispered.

“Spots? Oh, you mean the coal dust I accidentally got on my face?” Mingyue clarified.

The women were embarrassed. She wasn’t ugly; she was stunning and elegant.

“You thought I was ugly because of some soot, so you spread rumors about me?” Mingyue challenged them. “That’s quite rude. Even if I did have spots, what then? Are you trying to isolate anyone you deem ‘unattractive’?”

The women panicked under the heavy accusation. “No, we were just… curious…”

“Curious if an ‘ugly’ woman was good enough for Comrade Chen Che? So you could gossip behind my back?” Mingyue didn’t let them off. “Go home and reflect. Before you speak ill of others, consider that others might be speaking of you, too.”

She marched past them with her head held high. Zhang Jingjing watched with total admiration. Mingyue had successfully shut down the neighborhood busybodies in one go.

However, back inside, Mingyue looked in the mirror and sighed. I wanted to leave the impression of a ‘delicate beauty,’ but I think my ‘fierce’ side just came out. My persona is crumbling.

At the military base that evening, the atmosphere in the cafeteria was light.

“Commander Chen,” a soldier joked, “I heard your new wife was teaching people a lesson in the compound today.”

Wang Bing and the others defended her immediately. “Impossible! Sister-in-law is so gentle. Someone must have bullied her!”

Chen Che felt a pang of guilt. He had been so busy with data that he hadn’t even spoken to her during the day, leaving her alone in a strange place. After dinner, he asked the Colonel for a day off to show her around.

The Colonel agreed. “You have a family now, Chen Che. Don’t just bury yourself in work. Take her out tomorrow, and come to my house for dinner in the evening. My wife will prepare something.”

When Chen Che returned home, he saw the house had changed. Two vases sat on the long table, filled with fresh wild roses and unknown blossoms. The house felt alive.

Mingyue, in her purple dress, greeted him with a smile. “You’re back! How was work today?”

Chen Che’s heart skipped a beat—a sensation he had never felt before. He hadn’t expected her first question to be about his work.

“Work is fine,” he said. The team had regained their spirit today, starting over with more calm and focus. This was why his superior had allowed him to rest.

Chen Che washed his face and sat down. “I’ll take you to explore Mocheng tomorrow.”

“Oh? Did you realize you’ve been neglecting me?” Mingyue teased, leaning in. “It’s good to admit your mistakes, Comrade Chen Che. But it’s fine; you’re busy. I’ve already found a partner to explore with—my friend, Zhang Jingjing.”

“Your partner?”

“Yes, Zhang Jingjing.”

The next morning, Mingyue woke up late as usual. She rubbed her eyes and saw Chen Che sitting by the door in the sunlight, reading a book. The light outlined his sharp, handsome profile. Who wouldn’t be moved by such a sight? she thought.

“You really didn’t go to work?” she asked.

Chen Che closed his book. “You’re up. I made those poached eggs you mentioned. Want to try?”

He had somehow learned the skill; they looked decent. They were a bit bland—lacking salt—but Mingyue encouraged him nonetheless. “Not bad. Let me go wash up first.”

As she wiped her face, she noticed her skin was peeling from the dry air. “I need to buy some skincare products,” she muttered.

After breakfast, Chen Che took her for a walk through the compound. They passed the laundry area where a group of women were gossiping.

“Commander Chen isn’t at the institute?” they whispered. “He used to be so dedicated; now he’s skipping work for his wife!”

Chen Che ignored the whispers and walked up to them. “Aunties, this is my wife, Song Mingyue. Please look out for her in the future.”

Mingyue saw their skeptical looks and knew they hadn’t been saying anything nice. She deliberately leaned her entire weight against Chen Che, resting her head on his shoulder. “Husband,” she cooed, “the sun is so hot. Let’s go back.”

The women were stunned. What a vixen! No wonder the Commander is smitten.

Chen Che’s expression was stiff, but he played along. “Alright. Goodbye, Aunties.”

Once they were out of sight, Mingyue let go. “Was my acting good? Comrade Chen, why is your face red? Are you embarrassed?”

“No,” Chen Che said, walking faster and refusing to look at her.

“Yes, it is! Even your ears are red. You’re so easy to fluster.”

“Comrade Mingyue, you’re a girl… you shouldn’t…”

Mingyue leaned in closer. “Shouldn’t what?”

Chen Che felt like he couldn’t breathe. He turned away and mumbled, “Don’t be so… direct.”

Near their door, they ran into Yin Xiumei and Zhang Jingjing arguing.

“Commander Chen, perfect timing!” Yin Xiumei pulled them into the fray. “The city is hosting a cultural competition and the compound needs a representative. Jingjing can do Mongolian dance—it’s perfect!”

“I’m not going!” Zhang Jingjing snapped. “The last time I danced in the courtyard, everyone laughed their heads off. I’m not going to the city just to be a laughingstock. Find someone else!”

“Jingjing, this is for the honor of the compound!” Yin Xiumei insisted.