Chapter 75: Obsession

“Mom?” Er Zai rolled onto his side, eyes hopeful as he looked at Lin Zhao.

“Lie still.” Lin Zhao adjusted his sleeping position, “Children shouldn’t sleep on their sides.”

“Of course I’m taking you—we’re going back together.”

“Go to sleep.”

Gu Chenghuai was young and strong, waking up very early; guess what, Da Zai and Er Zai might be woken at just past five for exercise.

“Oh.” Er Zai obediently replied, sleeping head-to-head and shoulder-to-shoulder with his brother.

He had barely closed his eyes when he opened them again, eyes bright, not a trace of sleepiness.

“Your dad’s back, and you’re too excited to sleep?” Lin Zhao smiled.

Not just the kids—she was a little unable to sleep too.

But the Long Fengtai, the little brother and sister, were fast asleep.

Er Zai pulled the blanket up to cover his mouth, deliberately lowering his clear voice, grinning, “Mom, can you play table tennis?”

“No, I didn’t have conditions this good as a child. Do you know how much a table tennis racket costs?” Lin Zhao sat cross-legged on the bed, chin propped on her hand, speaking softly.

Gu Chenghuai leaned lazily against the headboard, his long legs impossible to ignore, wearing a military-green tank top and shorts that ended above the knees, his toned muscles faintly visible, radiating raw strength.

Lin Zhao feared her evil hands might betray her, so she dared not look longer, focusing all her attention on the children.

“I don’t know.” Er Zai shook his head, turning to his father, “Dad, how much?”

“Five kuai.” Gu Chenghuai replied succinctly.

To a five-year-old, even a fen was a big unit, let alone a kuai!

Er Zai’s pupils widened in shock.

Dad is so generous with them!?

“Dad, you’re really my real dad!” he blurted out, emotions rising, his voice rising again.

Five kuai!

That could buy so many things—Dad willing to buy them toys? Definitely a real dad.

Gu Chenghuai fell silent.

He would never say that the money spent on his daughter was ten times what he spent on the three boys.

Si Zai was a girl, the youngest—favoring her a bit more was normal.

Lin Zhao watched the excitement on the twins’ faces; knowing the truth, she let their joy remain unspoiled.

Da Zai covered Er Zai’s mouth, instinctively glancing at his younger siblings, “Er Zai, lower your voice—you’ll wake Si Zai and then you won’t sleep!”

Si Zai had a bad temper when woken up—waking her right after she fell asleep made it worse.

“Oh oh.” Er Zai covered his own mouth.

The two little brothers had run wild all day—they weren’t not tired.

Chattering aimlessly, after about ten minutes, they yawned in sync and drifted off drowsily.

Once the children were asleep, Gu Chenghuai dimmed the kerosene lamp, pulled Lin Zhao into his arms, and sighed softly, “Raising kids is exhausting—you’ve worked so hard.”

Lin Zhao played with Gu Chenghuai’s beautiful fingers, her expression gentle, “It’s fine—our four kids are well-behaved. They listen to everything I say, easy to manage.”

If even one of them were as unruly as Lai Mei or Tie Dan, she’d have a headache.

Gu Chenghuai tilted his handsome face toward his wife’s neck, whispering, “Dad’s naming the four kids?”

“Yes.” Lin Zhao’s expression was complex.

“Has Dad always been this… indecisive?” she chose her words carefully.

Seeing Gu Chenghuai look puzzled, Lin Zhao rested her chin on his chest, smiling up at him, “A week ago, the task of naming the children fell to Dad. Many days have passed, and he still hasn’t settled on names.”

“I heard from Er Sao that Dad and Mom’s room stayed lit late into the night for several days straight. Dad started waking up earlier, flipping through that precious dictionary, muttering to himself while working in the fields, his brow knotted so tight he could trap flies—he looked deeply troubled.”

“Is Dad okay?”

Gu Chenghuai didn’t answer right away, asking, “Why suddenly want Dad to name the four kids?”

“Not just the four kids—Lai Mei and the others too.” Lin Zhao corrected him.

She quietly asked her mother-in-law about the situation, but Gu Mu, fearing pressure on Gu Fu, dared not ask directly.

“It was sudden, I thought Dad’s names sound nice—Gu Chenghuai, Gu Qingzhou, Big Brother and Second Brother’s names, Bang Bang’s name—all so good. I wanted to lighten your load, so I handed this tedious job to Dad. Am I good to you?”

She raised her eyebrows, smiling—under the dim candlelight, she looked especially beautiful.

Gu Chenghuai stared deeply at his wife, then suddenly leaned down, sealing her lips with his own, his hot breath surging in, fierce and lingering.

Long moments passed before he slowly pulled back, his breathing unchanged.

“Good.” His voice was low and hoarse, laced with restrained desire, those deep, well-like eyes now swirling with dark currents.

Lin Zhao’s chest rose and fell, her fair face flushed crimson like rouge, her lips glistening with moisture.

Gu Chenghuai gripped her waist, drawing her against his chest, his hand gently stroking her back, tenderly answering her question, “He’s fine. Dad’s just an indecisive man. Wait.”

“How long will we wait?” Lin Zhao grabbed his hand, interlacing their fingers, intimate in posture.

“At least a few months. But I’m back now—I think Dad will name the four kids before I leave.”

Gu Chenghuai wanted to melt her into his flesh, his Adam’s apple bobbing as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to her forehead.

Warm breath brushed against her ear.

“Miss me?” he asked with a smile.

Lin Zhao didn’t answer.

Her eyes lifted slightly, mischievous and lively; she leaned down slightly and kissed his Adam’s apple, soft as spring water brushing past, carrying a teasing allure.

Gu Chenghuai’s gaze darkened instantly, his body tensing, his breath quickening.

Just as he was about to lean down—

“Mom, are you and Dad going to have a fifth kid?” A small, slightly hoarse child’s voice abruptly broke the romantic atmosphere.

“!”

Instantly, the air seemed to freeze.

The young couple sprang apart as if shocked.

Lin Zhao, guilty and flustered, shoved him hard with both hands.

Gu Chenghuai was completely pushed off the bed, barely avoiding a heavy fall—luckily, his reflexes were quick; he adjusted in mid-air and landed firmly, a look of helpless resignation on his face.

“Zhao Zhao.”

Just when he was burning with desire, doused with cold water—and nearly fell off the bed!

It had been nearly two years—he just wanted to be close to his wife, why was it so hard!!

The young officer was full of resentment (﹁「﹁)

Lin Zhao ignored him, turning to Da Zai, who had suddenly woken up, “Why did you wake up?”

Da Zai sat up, pulled a handkerchief from under his small pillow, and wiped sweat from his forehead, “It’s too hot.” Also, without Mom beside him, he couldn’t sleep well.

After answering, he didn’t forget what he’d seen.

“Mom, what were you and Dad doing?”

Lin Zhao thought quickly, “Your dad has chest pain—I was blowing on it to soothe him.”

Da Zai frowned slightly, his eyes filled with concern as he looked at his father.

“Dad, are you still in pain?”

Gu Chenghuai: “...” The wound didn’t hurt—the other place did.

“It’s fine now.”

Da Zai looked skeptical, dragging his knees along the cool mat, slowly inching toward the edge of the bed, eyes locked on his father.

He reached out a small hand and gently tapped Gu Chenghuai’s chest.

“Nai and Mom said Dad has wounds—I want to see.” Da Zai’s voice was small but firm.

Gu Chenghuai was a brave soldier, always leading the charge on missions, earning every medal through blood and sweat—his body was covered in scars, the one on his chest the most grotesque and terrifying; even Lin Zhao had flinched when she first saw it.

“Da Zai...” Lin Zhao was worried—the scar might frighten the child.

But Da Zai interrupted her concern, “Can’t I?”

“I’m afraid you’ll be scared,” Lin Zhao gently squeezed the back of her son’s neck—his skin was so soft and smooth, like tender tofu.

“I’m not scared,” Da Zai’s eyes were clear and bright, still insistent, “I want to see.”

Gu Chenghuai smiled, ruffling his son’s hair, “So curious?”

Da Zai smiled shyly, “Mom says children have lots of curiosity—it’s precious. Adults must protect it like little flowers, nurture it well, so it grows!”

“Right, Mom?” He looked at Lin Zhao.

“Yes,” Lin Zhao realized her children had excellent memories—they’d surely do well in school.

Gu Chenghuai met his son’s stubborn little face and had no choice—he casually tugged his tank top down, then pulled it back up.

“Alright, just one look—I’m your mom’s entirely, only she gets to see me.” He frowned, looking annoyed, as if the boy had gotten away with something.

Lin Zhao thought it was too much to watch; she pinched his arm muscle—hard as iron, impossible to pinch.

Gu Chenghuai moved fast, but... Da Zai had been watching him the whole time.

The child’s eyes were sharp—he spotted the raised, terrifying scar at once.

Sensitive, delicate Da Zai’s eyes suddenly turned red.

Lin Zhao guessed he’d cry.

Da Zai was such a tender-hearted child.

She pulled him into her arms, patting his small back.

“Your dad’s fine—he has to watch you grow up, he has to become an old man with Mom, slowly walking in the sun, and when you misbehave, he’ll still grab a stick and beat you... Don’t be afraid, baby—Mom and Dad will always be with you.”

Dacai’s eyes were red as he showed his wrist’s red string, his expression earnest: “Mama, can I give this red string to Papa?”

This was the second time.

He gave his red string to his family.

He knew it was a protective charm, yet he still willingly gave it away.

Lin Zhao was always moved by the pure love of children.

Her chest burned warm.

She took Dacai’s hand and, as if performing a magic trick, placed a small red string in his palm.

“I’ve prepared one for your father—go and tie it on his wrist.”

Dacai’s eyes sparkled brightly.

He noticed his mother’s bare wrist, lowered his head slightly, and whispered, “Mama still doesn’t have one.”

The way he looked out for her grievances made Lin Zhao want to tie any red yarn she could find around her wrist.

But she couldn’t.

The red string she pulled out had a texture and color unlike any other.

“This red string is a protective charm—I have you, and I have your father. You both are my protective charms.”

Dacai couldn’t withstand his mother’s sweet words; his ears instantly flushed red. He picked up the red string and tied it around his father’s wrist.

“Your father, wear it well—don’t take it off,” Lin Zhao said.

Dacai nodded in agreement.

He turned to his father: “Papa, listen to Mama.”

Gu Chenghuai’s dark eyes shimmered with amusement; the tendons on his strong forearm rose slightly, clearly defined.

His long fingers fiddled with the red string—a sun-kissed, powerfully built hand against the vivid red, the contrast striking.

“...Why the sudden superstition?” He looked at Lin Zhao, unconvinced by the idea of a protective string.

Lin Zhao raised her brow slightly but said nothing.

Whether it’s superstition or not, time will prove it!

Still, she hoped Gu Chenghuai would never need it.

Gu Chenghuai raised an eyebrow, glanced at the red string on his wrist, and felt something unusual stir in his chest.

Lin Zhao shoved the fan into his hand, hugged Dacai, and lay down. “It’s hot.”

“Hah—” Gu Chenghuai chuckled softly, resignedly fanning his wife and child.

“Gu Chenghuai, tell your son a story,” Lin Zhao shifted into a more comfortable position, closed her eyes, and let Papa soothe the child to sleep.

Dacai looked at Gu Chenghuai expectantly.

“Alright,” Gu Chenghuai replied, pulling the blanket up over Lin Zhao.

The weather was hot, but the little belly must be covered.

Gu Chenghuai got out of bed quietly, fetched the illustrated book “Crossing the Chishui River Four Times,” and read aloud in a hushed voice.

Halfway through, Lin Zhao’s breathing grew even and steady—she had fallen asleep.

Gu Chenghuai’s eyes filled with laughter; he kept fanning, and kept reading.

Only when Dacai was asleep did he put the book down.

He noticed something strange—the room had no mosquitoes at all.

This mosquito-repelling sachet on the wardrobe was that powerful!?

Lin Zhao rolled over, half-asleep, hugging Sizai, and touched something like a furnace. In her sleep, she frowned slightly, pulled her arm back, and turned over again.

Her disdain was unmistakable.

Gu Chenghuai laughed in exasperation.

He got up, dampened a towel, wiped the sweat off his wife, then went out to bathe—and didn’t return for a long time.

…

The next day.

When Lin Zhao woke, Gu Chenghuai and the twins were not in the room; Sizai was playing with a cloth doll on the bed, while Sancai sat flipping through a dictionary.

Seeing his mother awake, he beamed, leaned his face close, held up the dictionary, and chirped in his tiny voice: “Mama, teach.”

Lin Zhao paused, ruffled her younger son’s hair. “So eager to learn? Sancai will surely become a cultured man, just like your grandfather.”

“Mm,” Sancai nodded firmly. “Like Grandpa.”

Footsteps came from the doorway.

Gu Chenghuai walked ahead, holding a red-and-white checkered dress.

The twins followed behind—normally full of energy, today they looked like wilted eggplants, listless and drained.

“Mama,” Dacai and Ercai said in unison.

Lin Zhao was about to speak, but Gu Chenghuai beat her to it: “Zhaozhao, I washed the dress—today you can wear it.”

“You washed it last night?” Lin Zhao was surprised.

“That doesn’t matter.” With that, the man picked up the twins and called Dacai and Ercai outside.

Lin Zhao put on the dress, slipped into her new leather shoes, and left her braid loose across her chest.

Her eyes were dark and bright; when she smiled, they seemed filled with spring water—sweet and lively.

She stepped out the door.

Everyone in the courtyard turned to look, stunned into silence.

After a long moment.

“Zhao, so festive—it’s even prettier than Meng’s.”

Dacai reminded Second Auntie: “Second Auntie, my mama is from the city.”

“Right, right, I forgot again—your mama is from the city, and all four of you kids are city people,” Zhao Liuniang said enviously.

“Who’s Meng Zhizhi?” Lin Zhao didn’t know all the sent-down youths.

“Mama, I know—Meng Zhizhi is the sent-down youth that Little Aunt hit and reported to the police,” said Ercai. “Meng Zhizhi has a dress too, but hers isn’t as pretty as Mama’s!”

He sat quietly, lacking his usual energy.

Gu Fu & Gu Mu: “...”

“Are the twins tired?” Lin Zhao asked, amused.

Ercai boasted, stubbornly: “I’m not tired! It’s just the first day—I’m getting used to it. Once I’m used to it, I’ll be fine!”

“Mama, don’t dislike me—I’ll become as strong as Papa.”

Only a short morning had passed, yet the child’s resentment toward his father had vanished completely; his eyes and brows now sparkled with a touch of awe.

Lin Zhao: “...”

Indeed, whether big men or little men, all admire strength.

“I don’t dislike you—in my heart, you’re all strong no matter what,” Lin Zhao washed her face and answered her son.

The twins grinned widely.

Dacai tugged at Gu Chenghuai: “Papa, we want to play table tennis!”

Gu Chenghuai pretended indifference but doted on his children: “I have to take your mama to work—when I come back, I’ll set it up for you.”

Gu Yucheng asked curiously: “What’s that?”

Ercai chattered eagerly: “Papa brought us a gift—table tennis rackets and a little yellow ball, plus a hammer, Bangbang Brother... when Papa finishes setting it up, we’ll play together!”

With little entertainment in the countryside, Gu Yucheng found himself intrigued by his nephew’s description.

“Chenghuai, how do we do it? Tell me—I’ll handle it,” he offered willingly.

Gu Chenghuai nodded, his voice steady: “The standard table tennis table is 2.74 meters long, 1.525 meters wide, 0.76 meters high. A net 15.25 centimeters high runs across the center. Build it on these measurements—use the old door panel we took down from our house.”

Gu Yucheng hadn’t expected such precision: “So many exact numbers?”

He couldn’t possibly remember them all, so he turned to his eldest son: “Bangbang, get your paper and pen—write this down, or I’ll forget it.”

Bangbang teased: “You’ve already forgotten it now.”

Gu Yucheng glared threateningly: “Do you think I won’t beat you right now?”

The half-grown boy pouted but went inside to fetch paper and pen.

“Third Uncle, can you say it again?” Bangbang asked shyly.

He hadn’t remembered either, hehe.

Sancai, still clutching the dictionary, spoke slowly, his voice soft with the gentle lilt of childhood:

“Length, 2.74 meters; width, 1.525 meters; height, 0.76 meters; a net in the middle, 15.25 centimeters.”