Hospital
"You've really pulled through, kid. You have no idea how terrifying your condition was."
Political Commissar Zhao visited Shen Xianjun again, this time carrying a document.
"Commissar, how much longer until I can be discharged?"
Shen Xianjun was beyond eager to see what his child looked like.
"What’s the rush? Isn’t the hospital taking good care of you? Or is the food not to your liking?"
Political Commissar Zhao shot Shen Xianjun an exasperated glare.
"It’s not that. I just feel fine now, and staying here feels like a waste of resources."
Shen Xianjun grinned, flashing his teeth.
"Hmph! You’re not leaving until the doctors say so. Until then, follow all medical instructions—that’s an order!"
"Yes, sir!"
Shen Xianjun instinctively saluted, his body reacting before his mind could catch up. Then his expression immediately fell.
"Commissar, I—"
"Save it. Let’s talk business. This operation didn’t just root out the Nationalist spies—we also uncovered foreign agents involved in the conspiracy, preventing major losses for the country. The higher-ups have already issued your appointment letter. Once you’ve fully recovered, you’ll return to duty."
Political Commissar Zhao cut him off, placing the letter in Shen Xianjun’s hands.
"Of course, there are other commendations too. You’re now eligible for family accompaniment in the military, though Comrade Qin’s work makes that impossible. Aunt Yang and Comrade Qin get along well, and Aunt Yang has assisted our operations multiple times. The higher-ups have rewards for them as well. Here—take these and pass them on to Aunt Yang and your wife. A soldier must defend the nation, but he must also safeguard his family. Stability at home ensures success on the frontlines."
Political Commissar Zhao handed over two envelopes, which Shen Xianjun happily accepted and tucked under his pillow.
"Alright, I’ve got work to get back to. Keep that appointment letter safe. Oh, and one more thing—you’ll now be stationed in the same military district as your brother-in-law, Hu Jun. Happy about that?"
With a final smirk, Political Commissar Zhao dropped that bombshell and left.
At that moment, Shen Xianjun didn’t realize the man was setting him up for some entertainment—though it was also a well-meaning heads-up. Unfortunately, Shen Xianjun hadn’t caught on yet.
After Political Commissar Zhao left, Zhang Lingling entered the ward again.
"Brother Shen, I brought you dinner. I asked the cafeteria chef to make you chicken soup. Your body needs proper nourishment right now."
"Thank you. How much do I owe you?"
Shen Xianjun reached under his pillow for the envelopes.
"Brother Shen, what kind of question is that? It’s just a bowl of soup—don’t talk about money! The higher-ups instructed us to take good care of you. If you keep this up, I’ll be upset."
Zhang Lingling stomped her foot and pouted.
Shen Xianjun shuddered, goosebumps rising.
"Oh, so it’s arranged by the leadership. In that case, thank you. Just leave it on the table."
He was starting to feel suffocated.
"The soup’s hot. Let me feed you."
"No, no! I’m still full from lunch. I’ll eat it later. You can go now—I’m a bit tired."
Shen Xianjun hurriedly declined.
Zhang Lingling took a deep breath, forcing a smile.
"Then call me if you need anything. I’m on duty tonight."
As soon as she left, Shen Xianjun sighed in relief—only for her head to pop back in.
"Brother Shen, my brother said he’ll visit you in the next few days."
"Oh, okay."
Shen Xianjun nearly jumped out of his skin.
He stared at the door for a long moment, making sure she was really gone this time, before finally relaxing.
The chicken soup looked rich and golden, its aroma tempting—but it was far too greasy. Shen Xianjun glanced at it but wasn’t in a hurry to eat. Instead, he pulled out the appointment letter and began reading.
Footsteps suddenly echoed outside the door. Shen Xianjun reflexively hid the letter and looked up.
"Time to check your wounds. Is that homemade chicken soup? It’s fine to drink, but this much oil isn’t good for recovery."
The doctor eyed the soup on the table before motioning for Shen Xianjun to lift the blanket.
Shen Xianjun didn’t explain the soup’s origin, simply complying.
"Hmm, healing well. When you were first brought in, we weren’t sure you’d make it. Your comrades all came to donate blood—multiple surgeries pulled you back from the brink."
The doctor continued his examination just as Yang Yufen arrived at the door with Qin Nian and the children.
"Doctor, how are his wounds? When can he be discharged?"
Yang Yufen couldn’t help but ask as soon as she saw the doctor.
Shen Xianjun perked up, waiting eagerly for the answer.
"Another seven days. Once the stitches are removed, he can leave. And yes, the patient needs proper nutrition—but skim the fat off that soup. No seafood, otherwise no restrictions."
The doctor gave a few more instructions before stepping aside to let the family reunite.
Yang Yufen glanced at the soup on the table but said nothing, instead unpacking the chicken noodle soup she’d brought.
"..."
Qin Nian hesitated, unsure what to call Shen Xianjun. Before, it was "Comrade Shen"—they were married, but their relationship had been distant. Now, though, she was close with her mother-in-law, and being too formal felt awkward, especially with the children here.
"Dabao, Erbao, say hello to your dad. This is Dabao, and this is Erbao."
After a moment’s thought, Qin Nian let the children take the lead.
"Dad?"
Dabao eyed Shen Xianjun’s scruffy beard with confusion. Erbao stayed silent beside his brother, finding this "dad" a bit intimidating—nothing like Uncle Hu Jun or Uncle Wang.
"Yeah."
Shen Xianjun blinked at the two identical children before responding.
His mother hadn’t told him there were two kids!
"Eat first. Shave that face later—you’re scaring the children."
Yang Yufen huffed, shoving chopsticks and a food container into his hands.
"Mom, I’ll clean up soon. I’ve missed your handmade noodles so much."
Shen Xianjun’s eyes lit up at the sight of the soup noodles.
"Hmph! Even if I didn’t bring any, you wouldn’t starve. Nian Nian, come sit. You’ve worked all day—you must be exhausted. Dabao, Erbao, come to Grandma. Don’t be scared."
In the blink of an eye, Yang Yufen’s demeanor shifted as she coaxed the children to her side. Qin Nian obediently sat beside her.
Shen Xianjun didn’t mind being brushed aside. He dug into the noodles—his mother might always scold him, but her handmade noodles were unbeatable. This was what he’d been craving.
A scoop revealed not just greens but a chicken drumstick too!
Qin Nian watched quietly. Her mother-in-law treated Shen Xianjun differently than she treated her—but maybe that was just how real family was. No fear of causing misunderstandings. With her, Aunt Yang was always considerate and polite.
