013. Sharing a Bed, Meeting Each Other’s Gaze

Such a stool posed little challenge for soldiers like them, accustomed to years of rigorous training. He had endured far harsher conditions while resting amidst the forest during exercises. But now, he was half-disabled himself. His legs needed constant rest and care; apart from necessary moments of standing on one foot for basic needs, he dared not stand for any length of time.

A lone man and woman sharing a room was hardly proper, yet given the circumstances, there was no better solution. She would have to endure a bit of inconvenience and squeeze in beside him. With several hours yet until daylight, neither could stay awake all night, staring into the darkness.

Jing Qingxin surveyed the room, finding no alternative. Naturally, she would have chosen a more comfortable place to rest if one were available. As it was, each had their own blanket, occupying half of the wooden bed—it seemed they could coexist peacefully enough. Besides, his left leg was badly injured and unsuitable for movement, so she had little fear that he might harbor any improper intentions.

"Alright," she replied.

After a brief consideration, Jing Qingxin walked to the wooden cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a coarse linen quilt. Its texture was neither as smooth nor warm as the cotton quilts at home, and it felt heavier, lacking the lightness she was used to.

She approached the bed, slipped off her shoes, climbed up from the foot, spread the quilt over herself, adjusted her posture, and smiled at Gao Shen. "All set. Let's sleep."

Gao Shen nodded and lay down beside her. Because of his leg injury, he could only sleep on his back, unable to turn onto his side. The oil lamp burning atop the cabinet cast a gently flickering light; he worried that extinguishing it might leave the room too dark and make her uneasy, so he let it burn on.

He closed his eyes, adjusting himself for sleep. Suddenly, a subtle fragrance wafted to his nose—a faint scent of wildflowers and grass, soothing and pleasant. He knew at once where it came from. Gradually, sleep overtook him.

At dawn, the sun climbed slowly over the mountain ridge, its golden rays peeking through. The village was already bustling with a new day; white smoke rose from every chimney, and villagers could be seen carrying farm tools as they went about their work. Yet in one quiet corner, a certain house remained still and peaceful.

Gao Shen slowly opened his eyes. During his recovery, he had grown accustomed to waking precisely when the village began to stir. He would then quietly listen for the sounds outside, finding a strange pleasure in this simple pastime.

Back in the army, morning drills required much earlier rising—he could never have slept so late. Now, his body seemed to have grown lazily accustomed to such leisure.

He turned to look at Jing Qingxin, still asleep beside him. She had turned toward him, allowing him to clearly see her sleeping face—serene and gentle, her posture peaceful and well-behaved.

Noticing a stray lock of hair obscuring her brow, Gao Shen reached out and gently brushed it aside. Just then, their eyes met—her clear, bright gaze shining with a tranquil light. Gao Shen froze, hand still poised mid-motion.

The air between them seemed to still as well. Jing Qingxin blinked, gazing at the man before her, his expression earnest, his eyes gentle, a faint smile at his lips. Newly awakened, she was momentarily stunned by this scene.

At that very moment, a sudden knocking broke the subtle tension in the room—"thump, thump" at the door.

Gao Shen immediately reacted, pulling Jing Qingxin's quilt over her head, then adjusting her blanket so it overlapped his own.

His gaze caught the shoes at the bedside. He quickly leaned down, half his body off the bed, and used his left hand to push the shoes under the bed, then hurried to sit upright.

"Gao Shen, are you up yet?" Da Hu called from outside.

"I'm up. Come in," Gao Shen replied in a deep voice.

Jing Qingxin lay flat under the quilt, pressing close to Gao Shen to minimize her presence, her heart pounding. Still unsettled by the earlier moment, now she had to endure this new intrusion.

She longed to go outside, to see what rural life was like sixty years ago, to compare it with the records she’d read in books. Hiding here was hardly a solution. She buried her face in the quilt, quietly complaining to herself.

She heard the door open, footsteps approaching, and then a rough male voice: "Gao Shen, here’s your breakfast. There’s sweet potato today—it's delicious."

"Thank you," Gao Shen replied, his tone steady.

"No need for thanks. Huh, are you cold? Why are you covered with two quilts? Did you get out of bed? Is your leg alright?" Da Hu asked, surprised at the sight of Gao Shen bundled in thick blankets.

"It was a bit chilly last night—maybe because of my injury. My health is weak. It's nothing, just a few steps. I can manage on one foot," Gao Shen answered seriously, his expression sincere.

"True, you need to take extra care with that leg. More quilts will keep you warmer! If you need anything next time, just let me know in advance," Da Hu replied with a straightforward smile, accepting Gao Shen’s explanation without further question. His attention was entirely on Gao Shen’s injury, never noticing the slight bulge in the quilt. He assumed any unevenness was simply the quilt not spread flat or perhaps clothes piled underneath—after all, two thick quilts could easily obscure such details.

"You’d better hurry back and eat," Gao Shen urged. Now was not the time for conversation; he needed Da Hu to leave quickly.

"Alright, I’ll head back. If you need anything, call me!" Da Hu said cheerfully.

He left, shutting the door behind him as was his habit. Though he sensed that Gao Shen had been acting differently lately, he couldn't quite put his finger on the reason and soon dismissed the thought.

Hearing the door close, Jing Qingxin immediately threw off the quilt, breathing in fresh air with delight. "Finally gone. I thought I was going to suffocate," she muttered.

She quickly sat up at the edge of the bed, preparing to get down, but found her shoes missing. Realizing what had happened, she bent down and retrieved them from beneath the bed.

She glanced at the cabinet, where the meager bowl of rice porridge still sat, accompanied by a sweet potato the size of a man's fist. Jing Qingxin pursed her lips, muttering, "Such a simple breakfast!"

She then walked to the wooden table, opened the flask, poured half a cup of hot water into the iron porcelain mug, and, with her back shielding her actions, added some spring water to the cup.