The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 52

In the 1980s, matters between men and women were still handled with extreme discretion. Someone as traditional as Chen Che, in particular, would never cross the line of propriety too far.

After a night of intimacy.

The next morning, Song Mingyue got dressed and walked out of the bedroom. Chen Che was just preparing to leave for work, and upon seeing her, his face flushed red instantly. Seeing him so different from his usual stoic self, Mingyue couldn’t resist teasing him. She leaned in close and whispered, “Why is your face so red? Are you feeling unwell?”

Chen Che didn’t dare look her in the eye. The moment he saw her, his mind drifted to the memory of her long, fair legs; it felt like a feather was constantly tickling his heart, making it impossible to stay calm. He turned his head away, trying to maintain his dignity despite his racing heart. “No,” he replied softly.

“Then why the blushing? Are you… shy?” Mingyue laughed.

Chen Che was speechless. How could a girl be so blunt? He was both incredulous and flustered by how easily she had read his mind.

Mingyue reached out to straighten his collar, a sweet smile on her face. “Don’t be so shocked. We’re husband and wife; this is perfectly normal, alright?”

Her boldness made Chen Che’s heart skip a beat. He took the initiative to lean in and give her a light, fleeting kiss on the corner of her mouth. It wasn’t enough. When he pulled back, Mingyue stood on her tiptoes and pressed a firm, heartfelt kiss onto his lips. Chen Che responded immediately, lost in the dreamy sensation even as he kept a wary eye on the door.

He was “falling,” doing things he had never imagined doing, yet he found it utterly sweet. Only when he was nearly late did Mingyue let him go. Chen Che squeezed her hand and whispered urgently in her ear, “Wait for me to come home.”

It seemed that once a man experienced certain things, it was like a switch flipped. Even the silent Chen Che had suddenly found his voice for sweet talk.

Shortly after he left, Zhang Jingjing arrived. As for Pei Xiaoyu, she had woken up before dawn to head back home for school.

“Mingyue, Xiaoyu is such a hardworking girl,” Jingjing sighed. “We made thirty-four yuan from the watermelons. After subtracting the twelve-fifty for dinner last night, we have twenty-one yuan and fifty cents left. I gave her fourteen yuan and kept the rest for you.”

Jingjing pulled the money from her pocket. “Here, put it away quickly.”

Jingjing had helped out without expecting a profit; she simply felt sorry for Xiaoyu’s circumstances and viewed this as “accidental” money. Mingyue, however, didn’t take it.

“Jingjing, you don’t think a few dozen yuan is our end goal, do you? I told you this was a test run. Since the results were good, did you think we’d stop after just one go?”

“What do you mean?”

“It means we keep earning. If watermelons sold well at the competition, they’ll sell at school gates and state-owned factory entrances too. We can sell other things, too. Wherever the people are, that’s where we go. Labor leads to wealth, Jingjing; this is the best time to make money. We can’t let it go to waste.”

Jingjing was struck by a moment of realization. “You’re right! We don’t have to stop. Should we keep Xiaoyu with us? I think we should. She’s young, but she has more sales experience than I do.”

Mingyue nodded. She understood now why Pei Xiaoyu became so successful in the future. She had a natural charm and sincerity that won people over. “We’re keeping her! We’re an unbreakable Iron Triangle!”

Mingyue planned to target the state-owned steel plants and university gates next—places where people had disposable income and an appetite for small luxuries. While street stalls were the start, her ultimate goal was a city-wide network of shops.

As they were planning, a loud, arrogant voice drifted in from outside. “Song Mingyue! Song Mingyue, come out here! What did you do to my Xingxing?”

It was Zhao Xing’s mother. She was one of the compound’s primary gossips and had arrived with a small “team” of other neighborhood women looking for a spectacle.

“What did you do to her?” Zhao Xing’s mother shouted. “She came home with you last night, and this morning she won’t eat, won’t drink, and won’t speak! She’s like a person possessed! Did you drug her?”

Mingyue wasn’t one to be bullied. She countered with even greater force: “You need evidence to make such claims. You’re accusing me of harming your daughter—where is your proof?”

“What proof? She was fine before the competition, and now she’s a different person!”

“How should I know? There were dozens of people there, all witnesses. If you keep slandering me, I’ll take this to the security office. You could end up in jail for false accusations.”

At the mention of jail, the mother faltered. She was used to people bowing to her bullying, but Mingyue was the first person to threaten her with the police. Her face turned beet red. “If it wasn’t because of you, why would she be like this?”

A more level-headed neighbor stepped in to mediate. “Mingyue, her mother is just frantic with worry. Xingxing is at home refusing to eat. If you know what’s going on, could you please help?”

This aunt was much more diplomatic. Mingyue usually didn’t refuse a polite request, but she kept her expression cold to show Zhao Xing’s mother that she wouldn’t be pushed around. Eventually, the mother’s aggression turned into sobbing. She couldn’t bring herself to apologize directly, but she wailed about her daughter’s “bitter fate.”

“Fine,” Mingyue said. “I’ll go take a look.”

At the Zhao house, Zhao Xing was locked in her room. Her father had even taken half a day off work to try and coax her out, to no avail. When he saw Mingyue, he looked at her like she was a savior.

Mingyue knocked on the door. “Zhao Xing? It’s me. Open up, I want to talk to you.”

Hearing Mingyue’s voice, the despondent Zhao Xing finally looked up. No one else understood her grief, but Mingyue did. She opened the door and immediately collapsed into Mingyue’s arms, sobbing.

Mingyue didn’t say much in front of the parents. She simply patted the girl’s back gently, offering silent strength. “Come back to my house. We’ll talk there.”

Her parents, terrified by their daughter’s state, didn’t dare object. The neighbors watched in awe as Mingyue easily solved a problem that had left everyone else helpless.

Back at Mingyue’s home, with only Jingjing and Mingyue present, Mingyue spoke seriously. “Cry it all out today. But starting tomorrow, you live your life. You can’t let one man ruin your future.”

“Mingyue… I didn’t think it would hurt this much,” Zhao Xing sobbed. “He’s gone. He’s never coming back.”

“Then you weren’t fated to be together. If you are fated, you’ll meet again. If not, even if you stayed together, you would eventually drift apart.”

Jingjing chimed in, sharing her own story of a past heartbreak to make Zhao Xing feel less alone. It worked; realizing she wasn’t the only one who had suffered helped Zhao Xing stabilize.

“Zhao Xing,” Jingjing suggested, “Why don’t you join us in our business? If you focus on making money, you won’t have time to think about him.”

Mingyue explained their plan. Zhao Xing was a bit confused by the logistics, but she desperately wanted a distraction. She agreed immediately.

The “Four-Woman Alliance” was officially formed. Mingyue felt the weight of their collective hopes on her shoulders.

Meanwhile, at the military research institute.

The atmosphere was tense as everyone focused on their work. Jiang Manman was sitting near Chen Che; though they were in different departments, their work often overlapped.

Jiang Manman had been keeping her distance lately, focusing purely on her tasks, which had actually improved Chen Che’s opinion of her. He respected his colleagues, and she was no exception.

As they were deep in data analysis, Jiang Manman stood up to get some water. Suddenly, she swayed and began to collapse.

Chen Che reacted with lightning speed, catching her before she hit the floor.

“She probably has low blood sugar,” a colleague noted. “Manman often skips meals for work.”

Chen Che didn’t hesitate. He hoisted her onto his back to rush her to the infirmary. Low blood sugar could be dangerous. As they neared the clinic, Jiang Manman regained a bit of consciousness. She leaned her head against Chen Che’s shoulder, a look of deep satisfaction on her face.

“Cousin,” she whispered into his ear, “your back is so comfortable.”