A few minutes later, those eleven Arabic numerals finally had a name in Qian Yiyi’s contact list.
She labeled the number as “Lu Captain Work Number.”
Holding the Gan’nan Navel Orange from Lu Qiming, Qian Yiyi returned to her room, placed the plastic bag on the table, and quickly walked into the bathroom to undress and take a hot shower.
Qian Yiyi’s skin was not very tolerant of heat; normally when showering, she preferred to keep the water temperature around 40 degrees Celsius.
But tonight, as the temperature outside had dropped a bit, the 40-degree water felt slightly cool. After getting wet, she shivered lightly, then turned the knob to raise the water temperature.
After finishing the hot shower, a rosy flush appeared across her skin, and her cheeks glowed with a bright, delicate pink.
She felt drowsy and a little tired.
Too lazy to move, she casually wrapped her wet hair in a cartoon-patterned hair towel and lay on the bed playing with her phone.
Her peripheral vision caught sight of the plastic bag on the table, so she propped herself up, sat up, and picked out the smallest orange.
Qian Yiyi had loved citrus fruits when she was a child. But during those years, her parents controlled the household shopping, and her mother disliked peeling oranges, so every time they returned from the supermarket or market, they would substitute with tangerines.
Back then, little Qian Yiyi longed desperately for oranges. She clenched her tiny fists and swore many times that when she grew up and earned money, she would buy hundreds of pounds of oranges at once and eat her fill.
But as she grew older, that great childhood wish faded into the flow of time.
Only after buying oranges herself a few times did she realize the peel of an orange couldn’t be easily torn by hand and had to be cut with a knife.
The oranges she loved as a child were always peeled and sliced by her parents and placed neatly on a plate.
Her thoughts spun, and her gaze returned to the Gan’nan Navel Orange in her hand.
She pinched it.
The peel was still relatively thin, but much harder than a tangerine’s, and definitely couldn’t be peeled by hand.
This realization once again extinguished Qian Yiyi’s enthusiasm for eating oranges.
She weighed the orange in her hand thoughtfully, blinked, then casually pulled on her thick coat, wrapped herself up, and carried the bag of oranges out the door.
The night was deep and quiet; her slippers made crisp clacking sounds on the tile floor.
Arriving in front of Room 408, Qian Yiyi stopped. After hesitating for a few seconds, she raised her hand and knocked on the tightly shut door: knock knock.
The camp was silent at night.
Her knocks echoed faintly down the hallway, like sparrow calls scattered in the wind.
After a moment’s quiet waiting, she heard footsteps from inside. Unlike the light, casual sound of slippers on her feet, these footsteps were steady and calm, the distinct tone of standard issue leather shoes.
The door opened, and bright light poured out, illuminating the girl’s flushed, rosy face still misted from the hot shower.
Her cheeks were vibrant, and her wet long hair still wrapped in the cartoon hair towel, she stood prettily at the door— like a lotus emerging from pure water, naturally unadorned.
Lu Qiming was clearly surprised; his gaze paused briefly upon seeing her before he opened his mouth after half a second: “What’s the matter?”
Qian Yiyi smiled softly, holding the plastic bag a bit higher: “This is for you.”
Before Lu Qiming could ask why, she laughed and explained, “I don’t have a fruit knife, so it’s inconvenient to eat the orange. You keep it for yourself, Captain Lu.”
Lu Qiming frowned slightly.
He didn’t want to take back the fruit she’d given him, but the bag was heavy, and the handles were thin and dug into her hand painfully, so he had no choice but to take it.
He tried to say, “You…”
“Don’t say ‘As long as the man is alive, that’s enough’ again.” Qian Yiyi cut him off with a light laugh. Thinking of his serious expression earlier, the corners of her mouth curved higher, and her eyes filled with barely suppressed amusement. “Eating fruit is actually quite beneficial for guys— not only does it help improve athletic performance, but it also promotes intestinal peristalsis.”
After speaking, without waiting for Lu Qiming’s reply, she turned and walked back to Room 406.
Having returned the fruit, she bent down and sat on the edge of her bed, preparing to play on her phone a little before blow-drying her hair.
She opened Red Book and scrolled casually, just in time to catch a new makeup tutorial video from a beauty blogger.
The thumbnail showed the blogger’s clear, natural base makeup paired with bright and creative eye makeup. Qian Yiyi was intrigued and tapped to watch.
Halfway through enjoying the video, her door knocked again — bang bang.
She turned off her phone screen, cleared her throat, and opened the door: “May I ask who’s there?”
“It’s me.” A familiar, clear, magnetic male voice came from outside.
Recognizing the voice instantly, a flicker of surprise flashed in her eyes as she opened the door.
Lu Qiming stood in the doorway, his large, knobby hand holding a standard-issue medium iron bowl filled with…
Several pieces of pre-cut navel orange slices?
Qian Yiyi blinked in astonishment, her thick lashes fluttering as she looked up at him. “Captain Lu, what’s this…”
“I have a knife,” Lu Qiming said calmly, then offered her the bowl with the crescent-shaped orange slices. An old scar on his left wrist was hidden in shadow. “I cut and peeled it for you.”
Qian Yiyi was stunned, her eyes drifting from the man’s grim scar to the bowl.
Inside, the orange segments were neatly cut into uniform crescents, neatly arranged in the bowl, juice cleanly extracted.
“Eat,” Lu Qiming said again.
Though a short phrase, it was not a command, but gentle.
Only then did Qian Yiyi snap back to reality, hesitantly taking the bowl and softly whispering, “Thank you.”
“I only cut four slices because I was afraid you wouldn’t finish it all,” Lu Qiming said, lowering his gaze to her. “The rest of the navel oranges are still with me. When you want more, just say the word—I’ll prepare them for you.”
Qian Yiyi pressed her lips together.
Her heart raced slightly, her ears tingled warm, and her palms felt both stiff and hot, her fingertips tightening.
Across from her.
Lu Qiming saw she was silent for a long moment and worried she might object to what he said. He asked softly, “Is that alright?”
“Oh, yes. It’s fine.” Still a bit dazed, Qian Yiyi nodded vaguely.
“You should rest early,” Lu Qiming said, his clear silhouette casting on the opposite wall. “Good night.”
“Rest early. Good night.” She mumbled awkwardly like a shy bird repeating after him.
Lu Qiming left.
Qian Yiyi held the standard bowl in one hand and gently closed the door with the other.
Outside, the wind picked up. The cold air tore at the iron wire fence around the training ground, which rattled and clattered like her chaotic, disorderly heartbeat.
She stood still for three seconds, eyelids lowering, then focused again on the orange in the bowl.
Since growing up, not even her parents had ever peeled and prepared oranges for her again.
Carrying the orange back to her desk, Qian Yiyi sat down, hesitated a moment, then extended four slender fingers and picked up a segment.
She brought it to her lips and gently bit into it.
The orange juice was rich and abundant, the sweet and sour burst on her tongue, immediately bringing her wandering thoughts back to order.
After finishing one slice, she promptly ate a second.
The refreshing fragrance of the orange filled her nostrils, and even her breath carried its sweetness.
She ate four segments in a row, then pulled out a tissue to wipe the corners of her mouth.
After a moment’s thought, she took out her phone and took a photo of the remaining orange slices in the bowl.
–
Just one wall away, Room 408.
The sound of water running in the bathroom, a straight blade flashed cold silver in the man’s fingers.
After cleaning the knife used to cut the oranges, Lu Qiming quickly took off his clothes and took a simple shower.
His black short hair dripped wet, without any fuss. He casually tossed the towel aside and lay back on the single bed by the window.
The curtain was half-open, letting a sliver of weak light in.
Heavy clouds thickened, so the dim light was not moonlight but the six-meter-high streetlamp outside the dormitory building.
The cold wind howled; noises unnoticed during the day were amplified at night.
The iron wire fence around the training ground howled in the wind, then suddenly— clang! Something was pulled and dropped to the ground.
Lu Qiming knew— it was the slogan board that had fallen: “Answer the call, be ready to fight, and win every battle.”
Having stayed in the Stonewater District Compound all these years, every blade of grass, every brick, every tile was etched clearly in his mind.
The slogan board was broken. It would be fixed by the Bureau of Logistics tomorrow.
But…
Had the sound of that metal board hitting the ground been too loud again?
“….” Thinking this, Lu Qiming’s brow twitched slightly as he reached for the phone on his bedside table.
He lit the screen and opened the WeChat APP.
That cartoon avatar sat pinned at the top of his chat list; no need to scroll, he saw it immediately.
Lu Qiming typed calmly and sent a line of text.
–
One wall away in Room 406.
Qian Yiyi had just finished editing a WeChat Moments post when her palm vibrated, alerting her to a new WeChat message.
She switched to the chat.
A pure black night sky avatar jumped to the top of the chat window with a small red “1” badge, standing out sharply among a sea of colorful avatars, immediately catching Qian Yiyi’s eye.
She rested her cheek on her hand, blinked, and tapped it open.
Lu Qiming: [The slogan board at the training ground fell off.]
Qian Yiyi was a little confused. After a moment’s thought, she replied: [Okay.]
Lu Qiming: [It made quite a noise just now. I wanted to explain. Don’t be afraid.]
“…” Qian Yiyi was stunned for a moment but then burst out laughing.
Qian Yiyi: [I’m not afraid.]
@Unlimited Good Novels, all at Jinjiang Literature City
Her fingers paused for half a second, curiosity getting the better of her.
Qian Yiyi: [Captain Lu, by saying that, do you think I look very timid?]
Next door in Room 408.
Lu Qiming frowned faintly at the latest message from the girl. His long fingers curled slightly.
He typed: [I didn’t mean that.]
He continued: [I was just worried you might have already fallen asleep and gotten startled.]
Seconds passed without a reply.
“…” Lu Qiming’s brow furrowed tighter.
Why no response?
Had she fallen asleep?
Or had he said something wrong and upset her?
A flurry of guesses and complex thoughts churned in his mind, making him uneasy.
Just as he was about to type “Sorry,” the girl’s piglet avatar suddenly popped up and sent a reply.
Qian Yiyi: [I just posted a Moments update. I’m about to brush my teeth and go to bed now.]
Qian Yiyi: [Good night, Captain Lu. Wish you sweet dreams.]
Reading this, Lu Qiming’s restrained expression slowly softened. He typed a line: [Good night.]
After exiting the chat, his fingers seemed to act on their own, tapping on the girl’s avatar to quickly check the “latest Moments” she mentioned, as if afraid of missing or being late to see something.
Qian Yiyi: [Happy] Gan’nan Navel Oranges are delicious; peeling and slicing them makes them even better. The big things in life are eating and drinking. Life is short—one more bowl!①
The photo showed the standard bowl with a few remaining orange slices, enhanced with a food filter that made it look quite appetizing.
“…” Lu Qiming’s eyes softened.
For the first time, there was a tiny trace of her in that girl’s life.
Though it was just a bowl of freshly cut navel oranges.
He quietly stared at the picture for a moment, then tapped “like” on the Moments post.
Turning off the screen, the dorm returned to darkness and silence.
Lying back, staring up at the simple, clean lampshade on the ceiling, a slight smile tugged at the corner of Lu Qiming’s mouth.
It wasn’t a complete breakthrough.
But at least, those navel oranges he had cut himself, were appreciated by her.
–
The next morning, before the morning mist had cleared, the sharp sound of the Straight Trumpet echoed across the training ground.
New recruits crawled through the mud, their faces and clothes covered in grime, the training uniforms so dirty their original colors were unrecognizable.
Yet the young soldiers seemed oblivious, gritting their teeth and pushing forward.