Going Home
Lin Chuan probably did want to “fly,” but facing his new little wife, he dared not.
In the end, he had no choice but to give up his resistance, pressing his lips into a tight line without saying another word.
Chang Yuejin was utterly stunned. The usually decisive and commanding battalion leader had actually changed his mind because of one sentence from his little wife. It was truly unbelievable.
But he knew better than to comment. He simply said, “Alright then, continue resting. Let the unit know if you need anything.”
Lin Chuan glanced at Su Su, his voice suddenly eight times softer, “How about tomorrow? Let’s arrange for discharge tomorrow. We can put extra bedding on the seats in the car.”
“I’ll ask the doctor,” Su Su shot him a glare. “You can’t decide this. It’s up to the doctor.”
People at this time were quite tough, and after listening to Su Su’s concerns, the doctor smiled and told her that as long as the journey wasn’t too bumpy, Lin Chuan could be discharged. He just needed to rest and lie down periodically.
Hearing this, Su Su remembered that the jeep’s backseat was fairly wide. Lin Donghe and the driver could sit in the front, leaving her to manage Lin Chuan and make sure he didn’t sit for too long. She understood his personality by now—he was stubborn, always having the final say. Though he restrained himself somewhat in front of her, she knew he would never give up the idea of going home early.
Since the doctor had already approved it, she reluctantly agreed. Still, she sternly warned Lin Chuan to take care before agreeing to let him leave the next day. That night, she returned to the guesthouse for rest, while Lin Donghe stayed at the hospital. Being a man, he could easily manage without a bed.
The next morning, Su Su had just finished tidying up when she heard a knock at the door. Opening it, she was surprised to see Lin Donghe.
“Why are you here, Donghe?” she asked curiously.
“Everything’s arranged—discharge paperwork is done, and the unit’s jeep has arrived. We’re here to pick you up,” Lin Donghe replied.
Su Su rolled her eyes dramatically. “Why so rushed? Couldn’t we at least wait until the afternoon?”
“If we leave early, we can reach home by nightfall,” Lin Donghe explained, peeking into the room. “Anything you need me to carry?”
“Yes, thank you,” Su Su said politely, handing him the bundle of shoes she had bought. She slung her backpack over her shoulders and followed him out. Seeing Lin Chuan already sitting in the back of the jeep, she huffed and climbed in, her face still stern.
Once inside, she noticed that, though blankets had been spread on the seat, they were the hard, compressed kind that offered little comfort. Almost spitting blood in frustration, she climbed out without a word, went to a nearby store, and bought several pounds of cotton. Wrapping it up with a piece of fabric, she fashioned a makeshift cushion.
Returning to the jeep, she handed the cotton cushion to Lin Chuan and said, “Is this better now?”
“Mm.” Lin Chuan nodded, thoroughly impressed by her thoughtfulness. The blankets the unit had provided were old and flattened, offering no real softness. No wonder married men always longed to be with their wives—having a caring partner truly made all the difference.
Satisfied that Lin Chuan was comfortable, Su Su climbed into the seat beside him and said, “You shouldn’t sit up the whole way. Can you try lying down?”
Lying down?
Lin Chuan had rested in the backseat before, but this was different. Now, his wife was sitting beside him. If he lay down, wouldn’t he end up lying on her lap?
No way. That was far too embarrassing.
“No, I can’t,” he muttered.
“Just try. If you keep sitting, I’ll send you straight back to the hospital,” Su Su warned.
Faced with the choice between returning to the hospital or lying on his wife’s lap, Lin Chuan hesitated. But Su Su didn’t give him the time to think. She gently grabbed his neck and guided him down. Before he knew it, he was resting on her soft, fragrant lap, and a sense of satisfaction washed over him.
As for his legs, which had no proper place to rest, Su Su had a solution. She turned to Lin Donghe, who was organizing the bundles of shoes outside, and said, “Donghe, can you place one of the shoe bags under Lin Chuan’s legs?”
Lin Donghe froze. Carrying the bag over to the jeep, he opened the door, and his scalp immediately tingled at the sight before him.
Sure, they were newlyweds, but wasn’t this a bit too sweet? His eyes felt like they were being seared. In their village, newly married couples weren’t this shamelessly affectionate, let alone after the husband had just been injured and discharged from the hospital.
Silently, he placed the bag under Lin Chuan’s legs and returned to the front seat without a word, forcing himself not to look back.
Why can I still see them through the glass reflection and rear-view mirror? he thought, grinding his teeth. The girl, blushing softly, was stroking Lin Chuan’s face so tenderly it was unbearable to watch.
The driver, a young soldier from the motor pool, wasn’t faring much better. He let out a small, frustrated cry and glanced at Lin Donghe. “Can we just drive already? I feel like I’m intruding back here.”
“Drive,” Lin Donghe ordered stiffly. We’re not waiting for them to finish being lovey-dovey.
The driver started the jeep, but the scene behind him was so heart-warming that he unconsciously drove a little slower. However, the voice of the man lounging on his wife’s lap came gruffly: “Drive faster. At this rate, we’ll never get home.”
The soldier reluctantly pressed the accelerator. The city roads were smooth, giving the couple extra time to cuddle. Though Lin Chuan pretended to rest, he was wide awake, savouring every moment. Su Su, meanwhile, played with his short-cropped hair, fascinated by its bristly texture.
“Why are you laughing?” Lin Chuan asked, eyes still closed.
“Your hair is fun. It’s like little needles poking me,” she replied, giggling.
“Needles, and yet you still play with it?”
“It doesn’t hurt. It feels like a massage,” she teased, holding out her palm to show him the faint red marks where his hair had poked her.
Lin Chuan took her small, soft hand and gently squeezed it. “Don’t hurt yourself,” he said, his voice tender.
“It’s fine,” she replied nonchalantly, continuing to run her fingers through his hair. When she got bored, she moved to his ear, forgetting a crucial fact: Lin Chuan’s ears were extremely sensitive.
The moment her fingertips brushed his earlobe, Lin Chuan let out an involuntary, low hum—a sound tinged with a surprising note of vulnerability.
Both the driver and Lin Donghe froze in their seats, their bodies stiffening. That sound… what just happened back there? They didn’t dare look but couldn’t help letting their imaginations run wild.
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