The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 30

Cheng Er was a passionate young man. Influenced by Russian poetry and literature, he had always believed in the existence of pure, Platonic love. From the moment he first saw Song Mingyue that afternoon, he was convinced she was the girl he had been searching for.

He had tipped the guard, sent word to his grandfather, and rushed back to wait at the Art Troupe’s entrance. He intended to use his passion to ignite a fire in her heart.

Even when Mingyue introduced him as a “stranger,” Cheng Er didn’t mind. He stepped forward to catch up with her. “That’s okay! Once we get to know each other, we won’t be strangers anymore. My name is Cheng Er. I live in the courtyard alleys of Mocheng. I’m currently a sophomore at Mocheng University.”

Song Mingyue: “…” First of all, she had zero interest in students.

Seeing her reluctance to engage, Cheng Er maintained his bright smile. “Miss, could you just tell me your name? I truly want to be your friend.”

Mingyue turned her head. A faint smile played on her lips, but her words were sharp: “I’m sorry, comrade. My husband doesn’t like it when I talk too much to other men.”

The smile on Cheng Er’s face froze instantly. “You’re… married?”

“Yes.”

“But you said you lived in the military compound?”

“I’m here as a trailing spouse,” Mingyue replied.

Cheng Er’s heart shattered on the spot. Mingyue didn’t linger; she called Zhao Xing over to ride home. On the way, Zhao Xing couldn’t forget the way the boy’s expression had shifted from joy to utter desolation. Following behind Mingyue, she watched her graceful silhouette—her skirt swaying in the evening breeze, exuding a vivid and elegant charm.

Dressing so flamboyantly… no wonder even a university student fell for her.

In this era, university students were as rare as phoenix feathers. Zhao Xing hadn’t even passed the high school entrance exam; she had attended a vocational school before joining the Art Troupe. Yet, the student hadn’t looked at her; he had looked at Song Mingyue. Zhao Xing refused to believe she was inferior, but she felt Mingyue’s beauty was merely the result of “over-dressing.”

A woman should rely on her own ability, Zhao Xing thought disdainfully. Attracting men with looks is a crooked path.

Mingyue was oblivious to Zhao Xing’s odd thoughts. She was preoccupied with her piano practice.

It was a problem. Currently, she could only practice at the Art Troupe, and the sheet music for the waltz was only there. Earlier, she had practiced the piece twice, thinking she could memorize it and write it out in staff notation at home. But she had overestimated herself; halfway home, the melody had already vanished from her mind.

When she reached home, Chen Che was already there. He had finished work early and brought dinner from the cafeteria.

Since Mingyue had no talent for cooking and Chen Che was busy, her three meals mostly came from the military cafeteria. If he didn’t have time, he’d have his subordinates like Wang Bing take turns delivering them.

The old-fashioned aluminum lunch box felt heavy in her hand. After riding her bike for half the day, she was genuinely hungry. Inside were meatballs, eggplant with green peppers, steamed ribs, and a generous portion of rice. This was high-quality food; even back home, her mother couldn’t afford to give her meat every single day. Yet, Chen Che’s boxes always had two or three varieties.

Mingyue ate in silence. Chen Che sat nearby, watching her intently. At first, Mingyue had found their silence awkward, but now she was used to it—except tonight, his gaze was so focused it made her uncomfortable.

The kitchen had been scrubbed clean today by Auntie Xiumei, who said that with the wedding approaching, the house needed to be spotless. The red “Double Happiness” characters bought from the market were tucked under the long table, waiting to be pasted up the day before the ceremony.

Everything was being prepared in an orderly fashion, yet their relationship had entered a state that was impossible to untangle.

“Why are you staring at me?” Mingyue asked bluntly, unable to take it anymore. “Do you have something to say?”

Chen Che simply wanted to look at her. Seeing her slight annoyance, he stammered, “I… I wanted to ask if things went well at the Art Troupe this afternoon.”

Whenever he spoke to her in that slightly aggrieved, soft tone, Mingyue found it hard to remain tough. She lowered her head to her food and sighed. “It was okay.”

“Okay” meant “not okay.” Chen Che had sensed her mood since she walked in. “What happened?”

“There’s a piece of music I’m not familiar with yet,” Mingyue said. “Never mind, I’ll figure it out tomorrow.”

Thinking of the Art Troupe reminded her of Wang Qianqian. She wanted to ask Chen Che about her, but she decided it wasn’t worth the trouble. Their relationship was already fragile enough.

“What score do you need?” Chen Che pressed. “Would a keyboard score work?”

“A keyboard score would be fine. Do you have one?” A flicker of hope rose in her.

She had seen many literary and artistic books in his room, so it wouldn’t be surprising if he liked music. But Chen Che said, “I don’t have it. But a teacher I know should have one. What’s the name of the piece? I’ll go borrow it.”

Besides the score, the teacher also had an electronic keyboard. Chen Che planned to bring that back as well.

Mingyue was overjoyed. “Your teacher? Is it far?”

“It’s alright.” Chen Che stood up. “His home is on the border of Mocheng. Tell me the name of the score; I’ll go now.”

Chen Che was more than happy to finally be able to do something for her. Mingyue finished her dinner in a few bites and looked up, her eyes twinkling with a warm smile. “It’s dark out. It’s not good for you to go alone. I’ll come with you.”

“It’s fine. I’m used to it. You’ve been working hard all day; stay home, take a bath, and rest.”

Mingyue grabbed the old-fashioned tin flashlight. “You’ve been at work all day, too.”

Chen Che hesitated. He said it wasn’t far, but it was practically in the next city. “The round trip might take three or four hours.”

“That far? Maybe we should go tomorrow then.”

It was already past 7:00 PM. By the time they got back, it would be midnight. But such a distance was nothing to Chen Che; in the military, they often transported goods through the night. Since he was doing this for her, Mingyue didn’t want to hold him back.

The two of them locked the gate and set off for the neighboring city under the moonlight. Mingyue sat on the back of the bike, holding the flashlight to light the way. The moon wasn’t very bright, and the sides of the small path were pitch black, filled with the sound of wind rustling through the poplars.

Normally, Mingyue would be terrified of such a night journey, but with Chen Che in front of her, she felt incredibly secure. Chen Che was a reliable man; as long as he was there, she had nothing to fear.

She asked him how he knew this teacher. Chen Che answered honestly: “My father knew him. He knows I’m stationed here and has visited me a few times.”

The teacher’s job had nothing to do with music—he was a retired division commander—but music was his passion. Chen Che knew his home was full of musical equipment.

As they passed a village, several small dogs began to chase the bicycle, barking loudly. Scared, Mingyue lifted her feet and clutched Chen Che’s clothes tightly. “Hurry, hurry! There are dogs!”

In that moment, Chen Che could feel the warmth of her skin through his shirt. Combined with the evening breeze, his heartbeat skipped a beat once again. “It’s okay,” he soothed softly. “They won’t bite.”

They reached the house around 9:00 PM. This was a housing compound for cadres, similar to theirs but without guards at the gate. Most houses were dark as people had already gone to bed.

Chen Che knocked several times before a woman’s voice answered. She opened the door, rubbing her eyes. “Who is it this late?”

“Teacher’s Wife, it’s me, Chen Che.”

The woman immediately pulled on a coat and turned on the light. “Old Cheng! Chen Che is here!” She opened the gate, worried. “Chen Che, why are you here so late? Did something happen?”

She noticed a girl standing next to him. Though it was dark, she could tell the girl was tall and graceful.

“Hello, Teacher’s Wife,” Mingyue said sweetly. “I’m Chen Che’s fiancée, Song Mingyue. You can call me Xiao Song.”

“Oh! I heard Chen Che found a partner. I’ve been waiting to attend your wedding! Come in, come in!” The woman welcomed them warmly. “Have you had dinner? I have chicken soup on the stove; I can make some noodles for you.”

“No need to trouble yourself,” Chen Che said. “We came to borrow something.”

The teacher came out, too. When he heard they came for a keyboard, he scolded them gently. “Why come all this way at night? You could have called, and I would have had Cheng Cheng deliver it to you tomorrow.”

“It’s the same for us to come pick it up,” Chen Che said.

Knowing Chen Che’s personality—that he hated troubling others—they didn’t insist. They generously brought out the electronic keyboard and the scores. “It hasn’t been used in a while, but it works perfectly.”

Under the bright indoor lights, the woman finally saw Mingyue’s face, and her smile widened. “Xiao Song, just keep this at your house. Old Cheng only plays to be ‘elegant’; his playing is actually quite painful to listen to.”

“Teacher’s Wife, it’s too late tonight, but next time I’ll play for you,” Mingyue said.

“See? Such a sweet girl.”

The couple insisted they stay the night, but considering Chen Che had work in the morning, they politely declined. After chatting for a while, they set off on the bike again. Before they left, the woman held Mingyue’s hand. “Xiao Song, next time come back with Chen Che when we can actually sit and talk. I feel a real connection with you.”

On the way back, the night was even darker. Mingyue sat on the side of the bike, carefully cradling the keyboard, a weight finally lifted from her heart. With a keyboard at home, she could practice whenever she wanted.

She looked at Chen Che’s broad shoulders and noticed a patch of sweat on his white shirt. He had been riding for over two hours, carrying her and now the equipment. She was touched.

“Chen Che, thank you for tonight.”

“No need,” he replied shortly. After a pause, he added, “If you want to thank me… can you do it with an ‘actual action’?”

“What kind of action?” Mingyue asked curiously.

Chen Che rode steadily, his voice low. “I want to hear that song you sang last time. Is that okay?”

Mingyue remembered. “You mean Just Happening to Like You?”

Chen Che’s heart was racing, but his voice remained calm. “Is it okay?”

“Sure.” Mingyue cleared her throat, feeling a bit shy. “To be honest, I’ve never sung a cappella one-on-one for someone like this. My singing isn’t that great, so just bear with me.”

How could it not be great? Chen Che thought. He had never heard music so beautiful—so beautiful it had hooked his very soul.

Mingyue began to sing softly: “The sorrow won’t go away, the gloom won’t disperse… why is my heart so empty? The feelings are gone, everything is gone… yet I just happen to like you…”

She sang with increasing emotion. Under the soft moonlight and the gentle breeze, her voice drifted into Chen Che’s heart. For the first time, a thought emerged: Let it be like this. Let it never stop.

He really, truly liked it.