Volume One, Chapter 13: Never Having Been Close to a Girl Before

From childhood to adulthood, Xiao Huo rarely had contact with girls. In the compound, boys played together while girls played separately. After attending military school, encounters with girls became even rarer. Later, he was stationed in the harsh northwest frontier, surrounded only by rugged men.

This sudden scene, especially in the private, damp bathroom, left him with a tightness in his throat, unsure how to respond.

"Uncle Huo?" Su Wan called out curiously to his retreating figure. Though uncertain, she knew only Uncle Huo from the Huo family was likely here; it couldn’t be the eldest brother from the research community, nor could Xiao Huo have suddenly returned.

Xiao Huo closed the study door behind him. His tall, lean frame carried the slight dryness of summer air, standing rigid and upright. A vivid image flashed in his mind—her soft figure pressed against his back at the train station, separated only by their thin clothes, delicate and warm to the touch.

His dark, deep eyes tightened as he pressed his lips together. Outside the door, the sparse sounds of clothes being scrubbed and wrung echoed softly.

He had come back briefly to retrieve a document. His night vision was excellent, honed through special training, so he usually didn’t turn on the lights when returning at night. This time, upon opening the door, he heard water running in the bathroom but saw no light. He initially thought the tap was left on, never expecting to see that scene.

His chest rose and fell with a deep breath, the air in his nose heavy and dry.

Only after Su Wan finished washing, hung the clothes outside, and returned to rest did he emerge from the study with the document. The courtyard’s clothesline was full of freshly washed garments, each secured with wooden clips. Likely due to her small strength, the clothes were still dripping wet.

Almost out of habit, Xiao Huo set the files aside, took down the damp clothes one by one, wrung out the water more thoroughly, and rehung them with corners neatly smoothed.

When he picked up a pale green embroidered shirt with patches—exactly the one Su Wan wore at noon—his hand paused, then hastily rehung it like it was a hot potato.

Next came a small, delicate white undergarment belonging to a girl. He quickly averted his gaze, his ears flushing slightly.

A cool breeze blew, loosening the clip holding the white garment, causing it to fall to the ground with a wet thud.

Xiao Huo’s reflexes were sharp; he caught it swiftly but immediately realized and let go.

With a soft slap, the damp undergarment landed on the cement floor.

Staring at the white fabric, his mouth tightened, eyes darkened. Bending to pick it up felt wrong, yet leaving it on the ground was no better.

His hand, still wet, hung at his side, muscles taut, veins prominent.

No matter what, a grown man should never touch a woman’s intimate clothing.

After a mental struggle, his expression grew stern, and clutching the files, he returned to his dormitory.

At his rank, he would have been assigned a house long ago, but as a bachelor with no urgent need, he still lived either in a single dorm or at the military compound home.

After returning, he took another cold shower. Closing his eyes, he couldn’t help but recall that scene in the bathroom—soft and pure, tender as a just-bloomed apricot in spring rain, carrying a maiden’s sweet fragrance that wove itself into his very bones.

The faintly swaying droplets, soft, delicate, and warm.

His cold gaze snapped open. Lowering his eyes, he saw again a pair of fair, tender hands, fingers slender as scallions, resting on his waist…

His expression grew even colder.

Coming out of the bathroom, an icy chill from the night seemed to soak into him.

Lying on the bamboo mat-covered bed, no matter how he tried to suppress it, those images flooded uncontrollably into his mind.

Repeatedly. For someone usually so cold and detached, this was unprecedented.

Especially since the other party was a woman he despised—hypocritical, scheming, eager to climb social ladders, and had set her sights on Meng Xinhao.

Finally, he got up, turned on the desk lamp, took out a copy of the Quotations from Chairman Mao, and frowned as he meticulously copied it, determined not to let his thoughts be corrupted or degraded.

The next morning, Su Wan woke at 4:30 a.m. to find her white undergarment blown to the ground. Now washed, it wouldn’t dry in time, so she reluctantly packed it into her bamboo basket.

“You child, I was wondering why you went to bed so late last night and even washed clothes in the middle of the night.” Aunt Wu sighed as she pushed open the door and saw the courtyard filled with drying clothes.

“Mrs. Wu, there’s no need to thank me. I’m just helping wash the whole family’s laundry,” Su Wan said playfully, her eyes forming a crescent, voice soft and gentle.

“I’ll make breakfast now. Afterward, I have to visit Principal Song’s house. When Grandma Huo and Uncle Huo wake up, please let them know,” she added obediently.

Her demeanor was so gentle and well-mannered that Aunt Wu liked her from the heart.

“No need, no need. I can handle it myself. You should go to Principal Song’s place. Take these two ears of corn with you for the road.” Aunt Wu handed her two cooked corns as she held her hand.

These days, Su Wan had been helping Aunt Wu with all the household chores.

At night, to avoid crowding her, Xiao Huo squeezed himself into a corner of the bed, only to be bitten several times by mosquitoes outside the net.

Except for Commander Huo, Madame Huo had always been indifferent toward her.

Su Wan’s younger sister, Su Xiaohui, was the one who accompanied Madame Huo, watching TV and reading newspapers on the sofa, comfortably fanning herself. Though she claimed to help, she never actually did, and Madame Huo would stop her from doing chores.

Yesterday, after Su Wan returned drenched in sweat from hanging clothes, Madame Huo never once asked about her.

Even Aunt Wu felt a pang of sympathy.

Unable to refuse, Su Wan carried her bamboo basket and left the compound, waving a smile to Aunt Wu as she went.

She felt that once she stepped outside the Huo family gate, she might never return.

Principal Song paid her 25 yuan a month. In two months, she could earn 50 yuan—enough to cover nearly a semester’s high school tuition, which was about 12 yuan. With some support from her family and scholarships, she could just manage.

Her only worry was where she would stay during the winter break.

At the Huo household, living as a dependent and doing chores without being welcomed, she was no fool—why would she want to return?

When Su Xiaohui heard that Su Wan was working as a nanny elsewhere, she sneered coldly, convinced her sister couldn’t stand the ill treatment at the Huo home.

After going out yesterday, she must have met someone, relying on her pretty face and some tricks to move into someone else’s house.

She hoped her sister would be sold off if she was truly deceived.

But hearing that Aunt Wu had introduced her and that the employer was the military school principal, Su Xiaohui stirred her porridge with chopsticks and looked up with concern.

“Grandma Huo, Uncle Huo, but my sister can’t cook at all. During the busy farming season, when there was no other choice, she cooked one meal and the whole family ended up vomiting and having diarrhea.”