Chapter 123: It Actually Lit Up
Su Yaoyang picked up Song Mei and got into the car, and the driver immediately started the vehicle and drove toward the outskirts of the city.
“Mingxi, I’m really sorry about what happened just now. That Doctor Yang is…” Afraid that what had just happened would cause Su Yaoyang to misunderstand, Song Mei opened her mouth to explain as soon as she got in the car, but she was stopped by Su Yaoyang.
“Alright, don’t I know you?” Su Yaoyang smiled faintly, reached out to put his arm around her shoulders. Song Mei struggled a little at first, then finally gave him a big eye roll and lowered her head, clearly acquiescing.
Although the two had only been apart for five or six days, it felt as long as a lifetime to them. The two in the back seat snuggled together and didn’t separate again until the vehicle drove into the suburban military camp and stopped outside the tent.
As soon as the two got out of the car, they saw Little Lu hopping over excitedly, linking arms with both of them. “Young Master, Sister Mei, you’re finally back.
You must be tired after a busy day. I’ve prepared the meal; you can eat as soon as you wash your hands.”
With that, without waiting for their response, she linked arms with them and headed toward the tent.
After a brief wash-up, the three sat down around a small round table and ate with two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and a soup.
These dishes, which would seem very ordinary even to common folk in later generations, were exceptionally rare in this era. The three tacitly didn’t speak, silently eating their meal and cherishing this rare time together.
After the meal, Su Yaoyang moved a long bench and sat in front of the tent, looking at the sky silently.
Song Mei and Little Lu also came over, sitting on his left and right sides respectively, linking his arms and snuggling against him.
Light poured down like water, enveloping the camp in a silver glow.
Su Yaoyang leaned back in the chair, his gaze passing through the thin clouds and falling on the twinkling stars in the distance. The night breeze brushed his hair tips, carrying the scent of green grass and earth, refreshing the mind.
Song Mei’s fingertips lightly traced his inner arm, the warm touch transmitting through the cotton sleeve. She pressed her cheek to his shoulder, her eyelashes casting fine shadows in the moonlight. “The moon is very bright tonight.” Her voice was very soft, as if afraid of disturbing the night.
On the other side, Little Lu suddenly tightened her arm, pulling Su Yaoyang’s arm closer to her chest. Her curled-up knee bumped into an empty can standing on the grass, the clinking sound startling a few crickets hidden in the bushes.
The overlapping shadows of the three swayed slightly with her movement, stretching longer on the path covered with gravel.
The bright, soft moonlight shone on the three, reflecting three long shadows so close together, as if firmly stuck, never to separate.
After a long time… Song Mei’s voice sounded by his ear: “Mingxi… you… when are you going back to the front line?”
“First thing tomorrow morning.” Su Yaoyang said: “The little devils’ offensive is very fierce right now; I have to go back and hold the fort.”
“Mm.”
Song Mei just responded softly, and after a long while, she whispered: “It’s getting late; let’s rest early.”
“Oh…” Su Yaoyang responded first, then his eyes widened.
Wait… what did she just say?
Let’s rest early? Could it be…
Hey… Overjoyed, Su Yaoyang didn’t say another word, suppressed his ecstasy, and carried the shy two women into the tent. （Eh… it’s all tears thinking about it. Back when A Ding was young, the woman downstairs who was very familiar with A Ding and had just divorced called A Ding to help fix her faucet, and A Ding actually foolishly grabbed a wrench and went downstairs. Thinking back to the idiot-like gaze she gave him then, he now wants to slap himself twice.）
The leather mat inside the tent still carried the residual warmth from the day’s sun. Su Yaoyang stumbled when he kicked the table, causing the two women to cry out softly.
Moonlight leaked through the gaps in the felt cloth, illuminating the overturned bottle on the table, with the spilled water winding along the wood grain.
Suddenly, a nightingale flew over the camp, startling the tent cloth to rustle. Both women shrank back at the same time; one’s hair clip hooked his belt at the waist, and the other’s sock had slipped to her ankle at some point.
The footsteps of soldiers patrolling outside the distant tent gradually faded, and the intermittent chirping of crickets came from the grass.
The night was as dark as ink, and the gauze curtain with flickering candlelight was filled with an alluring warm fragrance.
Song Mei’s long eyelashes still held undried teardrops. Like a spent fish, her snow-white skin flushed with tide red, her fingertips weakly curled into Su Yaoyang’s collar.
When the last bit of strength was drained, she arched her neck with a kitten-like whimper, her sweat-dampened sideburns sticking to her flushed cheeks, her whole body collapsing like melted spring snow.
Little Lu, however, was still like a sparrow tasting honey for the first time, lightly biting the man’s shoulder with her shell-like teeth and not letting go. Her rounded shoulder trembled slightly with her gasps, her almond eyes misted with water. She fiercely dug her nails into his arm until she heard Song Mei’s long breathing beside her, then suddenly deflated like her bones had been pulled out, collapsing into the brocade quilt.
Two winding wet trails crossed on Su Yaoyang’s chest. Song Mei’s lips unconsciously rubbed against his heart in her sleep, her exhaled hot breath carrying sweet gasps.
Little Lu was like a fledgling returning to its nest, curling into a tiny ball, but her knee stubbornly pressed between his legs, as if even in dreams she had to compete.
“Mingxi, don’t worry…” Song Mei suddenly frowned in her dream, her fingertip painted with dan kou tracing the man’s collarbone, her hoarse ending like honey-soaked silk thread. “I, Song Mei, in life am your person, in death your ghost.”
A whimper overflowed from her throat, and a scalding teardrop suddenly smashed onto Su Yaoyang’s neck, making his heart tremble.
Little Lu immediately perked up her ears in the haze, hurriedly chiming in with a nasal tone: “Young Master…”
She suddenly bit her lower lip, fiercely burying her face into his armpit, mumbling stuffily: “I… me too.” The latter half turned into a sobbing gasp, burning the man’s waist numb.
Moonlight through the gauze window cast the overlapping shadows of the three on the wall. When Su Yaoyang gathered his arms, he heard two distinctly different breathing sounds.
Song Mei’s exhalations were like crushed petals, lightly falling into his neck hollow; Little Lu’s were like a little beast guarding food, each gasp carrying a wet nasal sound.
He lowered his gaze and met Little Lu’s suddenly upturned mouth in her sleep—that smug, childish smile, like a child who had just won a battle.
The next day, before dawn, Su Yaoyang quietly got up, fumbled to put on his clothes, then gently kissed each woman’s forehead and whispered in their ears: “Wait for me to come back; I’ll marry you both properly.”
With that, he turned and left the tent. Soon, the roar of a car engine sounded outside, then faded into the distance.
But what Su Yaoyang didn’t know was that in the darkness, the two women who had been asleep quietly opened their eyes, their beautiful big eyes already filled with tears.
Since it wasn’t dawn yet, Su Yaoyang, leaning on the back seat, planned to catch up on sleep. When he closed his eyes and habitually immersed his mind into the necklace around his neck, he suddenly gasped.
He saw that the option representing heavy artillery and airplanes was actually lit up…
