Chapter 67: He

Lin Zhao leaned back, a bad feeling rising in her chest. “Just say it outright—don’t do this. It’s giving me the creeps.”

Li Fen gripped her hand, eyes blazing. “Sister, I need to ask you a favor.”

“What kind of favor?” Lin Zhao cursed herself for not having yarn on hand—she could’ve distracted herself with it. “If I can help, I will. If I can’t, there’s nothing I can do.”

“It’s not something that’ll trouble you,” Li Fen hurried to say.

“I just want you to keep an eye out—see if there are any suitable girls back in the countryside.”

“?”

Make her a matchmaker?!

The thought flashed through Lin Zhao’s mind. She brought her bright, beautiful face close to Li Fen’s. “Sister, look at me. Do I look like someone who does matchmaking?”

Li Fen was momentarily dazzled by her luminous face.

She had so little education, yet suddenly felt the urge to quote poetry.

It was downright poisonous.

“Oh, come on,” Li Fen slapped her shoulder. “I’m not asking you to be a matchmaker—just keep an eye out. If you hear of a girl who’s hardworking, capable, has a good temper, and no family burdens, give me a heads-up. I’ll send someone to inquire.”

“You’re from the production team—everyone’s daughter’s character is known to you. I trust you completely.”

That’s all?

No problem.

Lin Zhao said, “You don’t mind if she doesn’t have urban hukou?”

“Mind what? I don’t care about that,” Li Fen said sincerely. “As long as she’s hardworking, doesn’t mind my brother’s injured leg, and is willing to settle down with him, that’s all I want. I don’t care about anything else—I just want her to be a good person.”

“Zhaozhao, I’ll be honest with you—our family isn’t poor. My brother earns well, he’s a good man. A girl who marries into our home won’t be mistreated.”

Lin Zhao believed her.

“Alright, I’ll ask my mother.”

Li Fen smirked. “Which mother?”

Lin Zhao smiled helplessly. “I’ll ask both mothers, alright?”

“I’m not some newlywed girl—you can tease me all you want, it won’t work.”

She wasn’t going to blush. Not anymore.

“Yes, yes, you’re not a newlywed girl—you’ve got two five-year-old sons, and you still don’t look like it,” Li Fen muttered.

When she first found out, she’d been stunned speechless for half a day.

With that face of hers—how could she possibly be married? How could she possibly have children?!

Before Lin Zhao could answer, Song Yunjin stepped quickly into the supply and marketing cooperative.

He headed straight for the counter.

“Sister, sister, your photography skills are top-notch!” The boy gave a thumbs-up.

He handed Lin Zhao the newly developed photos.

The photos were wrapped in a small paper packet—black and white, palm-sized.

Lin Zhao opened the folded edge and tipped out several photos.

They were taken the night she’d drawn the camera.

—The babies sleeping.

The twins lay curled together, affectionate little brother and sister.

Erzai’s right leg was boldly draped over his brother’s body, arms and legs wrapped tightly around him, while his brother lay perfectly straight, brow furrowed—serious yet adorable.

She’d captured every trait of each child.

So cute it made you want to bleed from the nose.

“Looks like I’ve got a real talent for photography,” Lin Zhao boasted.

Song Yunjin wholeheartedly agreed. “You learn everything fast. Dad says it’s a shame you didn’t go to college—he still gets upset thinking about it.”

Lin Zhao’s hand paused on the photo, then resumed normally.

“Why be upset? We couldn’t even afford enough to eat—what’s the point of college?” She was philosophical about it. Back then, even with money, you couldn’t buy grain. In the countryside, at least you could dig up wild vegetables. In the city, it was worse. College was just a fantasy. Filling your stomach came first.

It had been only a few years since the famine. Everyone still remembered that terrifying time vividly.

“True,” Song Yunjin said.

Then his eyes brightened, voice brimming with excitement. “Maybe one day, you and I can take the college entrance exam together.”

Lin Zhao studied him, teasing. “You planning to carry my books?”

Song Yunjin patted his chest. “Sure thing—I’ll handle water and meals.”

“If that day ever comes, I’m going to Beijing. You’d better work hard,” Lin Zhao said casually.

“Hah…” Song Yunjin laughed, then quickly stifled it under her icy glare. “Sister, you graduated years ago—you’ve forgotten all your textbooks. I’m only starting high school next year. My knowledge’s fresher than yours. Are you sure it’s me who needs to work hard, not you?”

“Of course it’s you,” Lin Zhao said with absolute certainty.

Some people are naturally gifted at learning. She just happened to be one of them.

Song Yunjin didn’t argue further. “Alright, I’ll work hard.”

“Sister, are you going home this weekend?” he confirmed again—using “go home,” not “go to.”

Lin Zhao’s eyes and brows sparkled. “Yes. I’m bringing all four babies.”

Song Yunjin grinned ear to ear.

“You’re busy—I’m off to get scolded at home.”

With that, he strode out, long legs moving swiftly.

Lin Zhao: “?”

She guessed what it meant, and her eyes softened with blessing.

Good luck, Xiao Song.

Li Fen and Wang Ju had heard whispers about photos but didn’t dare approach while Song Yunjin was there.

As soon as he left, they moved forward in unison.

Lin Zhao tilted her head slightly, meeting two pairs of eyes brimming with curiosity.

“...What’s going on?”

Before Li Fen could speak, Wang Ju extended her index finger and lightly tapped the small paper packet in Lin Zhao’s hand.

Her eyes gleamed, her face flushed with a shy smile.

The meaning was clear.

She wanted to see.

“If you want to see, just say so—what’s the big deal?” Lin Zhao smiled, tipped out the photos, and showed them to her close coworkers.

Wang Ju carefully picked up one photo—the one of the twins.

The little brother and sister were at that age where they looked like they’d been made to make people want children. Tiny and curled on a bamboo mat, their cheeks bore faint imprints from the weave—soft as if a firm hug would make them burst into tears.

Their eyelashes were long and curled.

Their cheeks were plump, perfect for kissing.

“Their eyelashes are so long,” Wang Ju whispered.

Li Fen hadn’t noticed before, but now she looked again and laughed. “They really are. Zhaozhao, all four of your babies are beautiful and well-behaved—you’re blessed.”

“They really are well-behaved,” Lin Zhao agreed openly.

Li Fen blinked, then burst out laughing. “Can’t you be a little modest?”

“I’m just stating facts—my children are each better behaved than the last,” Lin Zhao said, proud and sincere.

Li Fen shook her head inwardly. Five-year-olds and two-year-olds were universally annoying—none of them were “well-behaved.”

“Your four babies all have such nice head shapes—how do you make them sleep like that?” She was envious.

Her son’s head had flattened from bad sleeping habits—there was nothing to be done. But she still had grandchildren ahead—she needed to learn early!

Lin Zhao shook her head. “I don’t know. It’s Grandma’s head-shape magic—you’d have to ask the babies’ grandmother.”

When the babies were born, their bones were still soft. She’d been too afraid to even hold them. If someone asked her how to raise children, she truly had no answer.

Li Fen immediately shot her a look of envy mixed with awe.

“Your life...”

Lin Zhao lowered her gaze and tucked the photos back into the paper packet.

The two returned to their respective counters. Li Fen couldn’t resist telling Wang Ju: “When you marry, find a family like this—life will be comfortable.”

Wang Ju’s face flushed crimson. Too shy to look up, she quickened her steps, desperately searching for something to do to ease her embarrassment.

“...” Li Fen laughed helplessly.

Strange—she was the factory director’s daughter. How could she be this timid?

Yes, Wang Ju was the biggest “connection” in the cooperative—her father was the chief factory director. Rumor had it he’d sent her here to toughen her up.

In the afternoon, the supply and marketing cooperative wasn’t busy—only occasional customers, one or two at a time.

When no one was around, Li Fen sat at the counter sewing shoes for her brother. Wang Ju dozed off, head propped on her arms. Liu Chunhong and another woman whispered quietly.

Lin Zhao leaned her head against the counter’s corner, a small notebook resting on her knees. She bent low, writing something.

Anyone entering the cooperative would notice her thick, jet-black hair and her fair nape.

A military-green figure appeared briefly, fixed its gaze on one spot, then turned and vanished in an instant.

“Ah!!” Li Fen spotted the fleeting youth and gasped.

Lin Zhao lifted her head, following Li Fen’s gaze to the door—saw nothing.

“What’s wrong?” she asked.

“What a handsome young man!” Li Fen thought of the man she’d just seen, her eyes sparkling as she gestured with her hands. “He was in uniform, towering tall—half a head taller than your two cousins—and his face was beautiful. In all my life, I’ve never seen a young man more handsome than him.”

But his eyebrows and eyes felt familiar.

Where had she seen him before?

That couldn’t be right.

With a face like that, who could forget him after one glance!?

In Lin Zhao’s heart, her son’s father was the most handsome—no debate allowed. All other handsome men were mere clouds to her.

“No one is as handsome as my Comrade Gu.”

Li Fen felt a lump rise in her stomach.

The clock on the wall read 14:55.

“Fen Jie, watch the counter for me—I’m stepping out,” Lin Zhao said.

Li Fen waved her hand.

With only five minutes left until quitting time, the supply and marketing cooperative clerks began packing up.

Not long after, Lin Zhao returned, shaking water from her hands.

A few metallic chimes rang out.

Quitting time.

She slung her bag over her shoulder and left.

The supply and marketing cooperative closed early; the street was still quiet at this hour. The sun blazed at its fiercest, scorching the ground until it seemed to smoke.

Lin Zhao stepped off the blue-brick steps, shielding her eyes with her hand against the blinding light—and looked up to see a familiar, towering figure not far away.

She froze, blinking in disbelief.

The figure was still there.

Dressed in crisp military uniform, his posture straight as a pine, standing tall and noble. His military cap partially shadowed his sharp, cold brow.

As if sensing something, he lifted his gaze—his eyes like deep pools—then softened into a smile when he saw her radiant face.

The young officer walked forward slowly.

Each step was measured, steady, unwavering.

Watching the familiar figure draw nearer, Lin Zhao broke into a light run.

In an instant, she stopped two meters from the man.

“Gu Chenghuai?” she called uncertainly.

Gu Chenghuai’s eyes brightened with deeper amusement, his smile tender enough to intoxicate. “It’s me.”

Lin Zhao burst into a grin, visibly delighted, her eyes sparkling as if holding countless stars.

“Gu Chenghuai!” she cried joyfully.

The moment the words left her lips, she rushed forward and threw her arms around him, her petite frame pressing into his chest, her smile dazzling.

In the corner, Li Fen murmured, “...Zhaozhao was right—her husband really is handsome.”

What a good life he has.

How lucky she is!!

Wang Ju nodded rapidly, her eyes brighter than usual, trying hard to shrink into the background—but she couldn’t tear her gaze away.

They’re so well matched.

Gu Chenghuai sensed two pairs of eyes watching him. His deep, cold gaze turned toward them—sharp as a blade.

Li Fen felt her body stiffen. She grabbed the slow-to-react Wang Ju and pulled her away quickly.

“Fen Jie, why are you running?” Wang Ju’s reluctant voice called out.

“...” Young girls these days—so utterly oblivious.

Over there.

“Gu Chenghuai, is it really you back?!” Lin Zhao still felt dazed.

“When did you get back? Why didn’t you tell me ahead of time?”

Gu Chenghuai looked at her, his dark eyes reflecting her image. In a low voice, he said, “I meant to tell you, but you hung up so fast, I didn’t get the chance.”

Lin Zhao looked up at the young man, a full head shorter than him—yet her presence towered over his.

“What do you mean? We just met, and you’re blaming me,” she scolded, her voice crisp and clear.

She lightly poked his chest with her slender, beautiful fingers. “Hmph. When you begged me to marry you, what did you say?”

“You swore you’d treat me well your whole life, keep me on your heart’s tip, never make me angry. So what are you doing now? Have you already forgotten, after just a few years of marriage…?”

Gu Chenghuai listened to each reprimand, not the least angry—his lips couldn’t help but curl into a smile.

“My fault,” came his voice, rich as cold gold and jade, wrapped in tenderness.

“I’m not blaming you. I didn’t tell you—I wanted to surprise you,” he said patiently.

Lin Zhao was instantly soothed, her lips curving upward.

“Husband of my child, why don’t you pinch me? I keep thinking this is a dream.”

Gu Chenghuai smiled and offered his hand. “Bite me.”

His hand had clear, elegant bones—long and slender, so beautiful it had given Lin Zhao a weakness for hands.

She took his hand, lacing her fingers with his, glanced down, and her eyes curved into crescent moons.

But her tone was still sharp.

“Why would I bite you? I’m not Lu Baozhen.”

Gu Chenghuai turned his hand to grip hers, pulling her forward. “Who’s Lu Baozhen?”

“Lu Yizhou’s biological daughter. You forgot?” Lin Zhao turned her head to look at him.

“Hmm. No impression. What did she do?” Gu Chenghuai never remembered unimportant people. In his world, Zhaozhao came first; after her, his four children.

“She bit Er Zai and left a bite mark the size of a bowl on his hand,” Lin Zhao grumbled.

Gu Chenghuai nearly laughed out loud.

A bite mark the size of a bowl.

If he remembered correctly, that little Lu girl was younger than the twins. How big would her mouth have to be to leave a bowl-sized bruise?

So adorable.

The young officer, smitten by his wife’s cuteness, nodded solemnly. “That’s truly excessive!”

“Right? Right?” Lin Zhao chimed in, her eyes filled with worry. “I’m really afraid the scar on Er Zai’s hand won’t fade.”

Gu Chenghuai soothed calmly, “Er Zai’s a boy—having a scar isn’t…”

The word “problem” died on his lips as Lin Zhao’s frown halted him.

“You don’t understand,” she sighed.

The scar wasn’t the point. The point was: Lu Baozhen’s bite might give Er Zai a love-struck heart.

Sigh.

Gu Chenghuai said nothing more—he truly didn’t understand.

Remembering that Zhaozhao had once suffered a head injury, he stopped, cupped her face, and studied it intently.

“How’s your head? Where were you hurt?” His expression was focused, his dark eyes warm.

Lin Zhao vaguely pointed to her forehead, her face filled with grievance. “Right here—I got hit and got a bowl-sized bump, and passed out cold. Do you know what’s even worse? Your sister hit me unconscious and then ran off! She just left!”

“If it weren’t for Da Zai and Er Zai, when you came back you’d be a widower—and you could even eat my funeral feast…”