First, then, love.

It was already six o'clock in the evening, and it was completely dark.

The SUV finally entered the urban area of ​​a city in northern China.

After passing through several streets, the car drove into a vast, heavily guarded military compound.

The sentries standing guard at the gate held their guns at the ready, their posture ramrod straight.

He Zheng lowered the car window and handed over his identification.

The sentry glanced at the license plate number, immediately stood at attention, and gave a standard military salute.

"Greetings, sir!"

He Zheng returned the greeting, rolled up the car window, and the car slowly drove into the compound.

The courtyard was quiet, and the pine trees on both sides of the road were covered with thick white snow. The red brick buildings were hidden in the snowy night, exuding a sense of solemnity.

The car stopped in front of one of the two-story villas.

The courtyard gate was wide open, and the lights on the porch were as bright as day.

Mr. and Mrs. He were already waiting at the door.

Mr. He was dressed in a smart Zhongshan suit, with his hands behind his back. He had a sturdy build and exuded an air of authority.

He's mother, Shen Minghua, was wearing a dark red woolen coat, with her hair styled in elegant curls. She was well-maintained and exuded a dignified and noble air, but at this moment her face was full of anxiety and anticipation.

The car had just come to a complete stop.

He Zheng pushed open the driver's side door and called out, "Dad, Mom."

Shen Minghua completely ignored his own son.

Wearing mid-heeled leather shoes, she darted around the front of the car like a gust of wind and headed straight for the passenger seat.

He yanked open the car door.

Shu Yao had just unbuckled her seatbelt and hadn't even gotten out of the car yet.

Shen Minghua pulled him out of the car and hugged him tightly.

"Oh dear, my daughter is freezing!"

Shen Minghua cupped Shu Yao's face in his hands, looked her up and down, and frowned with heartache.

"Your little face is so pale from the cold. That rascal He Lao Er, he didn't even know to dress you warmly. Come on, let's go inside, it's warm inside."

"Mom, I'm not cold, there's heating in the car," Shu Yao quickly and obediently greeted.

Shen Minghua grabbed her hand and led her into the house without turning his head. "Old He, have your son bring the things from the trunk in. Don't dawdle."

He Zheng stood in the cold wind, watching his wife being forcibly dragged away by her own mother.

He touched his nose, resigned himself to his fate, walked to the back of the truck, and began unloading.

Mr. He walked over, looked at his son, and a faint smile appeared on his usually cold and hard face.

"I'm back."

"Okay, Dad, let's come inside, it's cold outside." He Zheng picked up the four large gift boxes and followed his father inside.

The heating in the small building was scorching hot, reaching a full 27 or 28 degrees Celsius, dry and hot.

As soon as Shu Yao entered the house, she took off her down jacket and wore only a turtleneck sweater underneath, but she still felt hot.

The living room is large and decorated in an old-fashioned solid wood style, exuding the weight of time.

In the very center sits an old man with a full head of silver hair in a mahogany armchair.

Grandpa He.

Although the old man used a cane, he was in good spirits, with sharp and bright eyes that revealed the fierce and stern aura he had gained from real battles on the battlefield.

Upon seeing Shu Yao enter, the old man's serious expression instantly melted away, replaced by a kind smile.

"Yaoyao is here, come here quickly, let Grandpa take a look." The old man waved to her, his voice loud and clear.

Shu Yao walked over and obediently called out "Grandpa".

The old man nodded happily, took out a thick red paper packet from his pocket, and stuffed it directly into her hand.

"Here you go. If He Zheng dares to bully you, tell Grandpa, and Grandpa will beat him with his cane."

Shu Yao held the heavy red envelope, feeling a warm glow in her heart.

"He wouldn't dare. He's very good to me," she said with a smile, speaking up for He Zheng.

Just then, a series of steady footsteps came from the second-floor stairs.

Shu Yao looked up.

A man dressed in a plain black casual shirt and dress pants is walking down the stairs.

He Zheng's older brother, He Feng.

Senior generals who have held important positions in the Northwest Military Region for many years.

The last time I heard his name was at the mulberry wine shop.

Seeing is believing.

Shu Yao was slightly taken aback when she saw his face clearly.

He Feng looks completely different from He Zheng.

He Feng has fair skin, a high nose bridge, and neatly cut hair in a classic slicked-back style, meticulously styled.

If He Zheng is a wolf tearing at the ground in the mud, then He Feng is a cold blade hidden in its sheath, gleaming with a chilling light.

Refined, yet dangerous.

His cold, sharp demeanor, a result of years of holding high positions and strategizing, made people afraid to look him in the eye.

He walked into the living room, his gaze lingered on Shu Yao for a second, and he nodded slightly.

"Sister-in-law, you must be tired from your journey."

His voice was deep and cold, yet very authoritative.

Shu Yao felt inexplicably nervous and subconsciously straightened up.

"Hello, elder brother."

He Zheng happened to be carrying some things when he came in. He put the things down and glanced at He Feng.

"You're back," He Feng said, looking at his younger brother, his tone still calm.

"Hmm," He Zheng walked over, and the two brothers stood together. Their auras collided, and the air in the entire living room seemed to freeze for a moment.

Communication between men, especially between military brothers, is simple and direct.

*

Dinner was a lavish Northern-style meal, full of hearty dishes.

Both He's father and He Feng were serious and rarely smiled. At the dinner table, only Shen Minghua was talking to Shu Yao, constantly piling food on her plate, making the meat in her bowl look like a small mountain.

He Zheng sat next to Shu Yao, taking charge of stuffing all the meat she couldn't finish into his own mouth, and also picking out the fish bones before putting them into her bowl.

He Feng coldly watched his younger brother's practiced manner of serving others, picked up his wine glass, took a sip of baijiu, and a hint of surprise flashed in his eyes.

After dinner, Mr. He took his two sons to the study on the second floor to discuss matters.

Shen Minghua pulled Shu Yao to sit on the soft fabric sofa in the living room.

The TV was playing a boring rerun of a variety show.

Shen Minghua took out three thick, slightly yellowed old-fashioned photo albums from a drawer under the coffee table.

"Yaoyao, come and see. These are all photos of He Lao Er from childhood to adulthood. That rascal used to give me a lot of trouble."

Shen Minghua patted the dust off the album cover and turned to the first page.

Shu Yao leaned closer to take a look.

The first page contains a black and white photograph.

A little boy, about seven or eight years old, with a shaved head, wearing a faded tank top, holding a toy gun made of wood, his face covered in mud, was grinning at the camera.

His eyes were wild, like a little wolf cub that hadn't fully grown up yet.

"This is a photo of him when he was seven years old. He led a bunch of mischievous kids from the compound to fight in the back mountain. When he came back, Old He whipped him with a belt, but he didn't utter a sound," Shen Minghua said, pointing to the photo with a tone that was both disgusted and heartbroken.

Shu Yao looked at the miniature version of He Zheng in the photo and couldn't help but smile.

It turns out he was a bandit leader since he was a child.

Flip through the photo album.

He Zheng grew up, his height increased, and his shoulders broadened.

At eighteen, he wore a green recruit training uniform with a big red flower on his chest, had a buzz cut, tanned skin, and eyes that revealed a fearless arrogance and naivety.

"That was the year he first joined the army. He insisted on going to the most arduous border defense post, and we couldn't stop him," Shen Minghua sighed.

As you flip through the pages, the number of photos decreases.

Occasionally, there are a few photos, all of them showing people in camouflage clothing, in mud pits or jungles.

At twenty, he had a long scar on his arm. Although the photo was not clear, the traces of the flesh being rolled up were still visible.

At twenty-two, his eyes had completely changed, shedding all their naivety and becoming cold, sharp, and profound, like a knife that had seen blood.

There is a photo of him taken in his hospital bed.

His upper body was wrapped in white bandages, with traces of blood visible through them, but he still gave the camera a rude middle finger and smiled arrogantly.

Shen Minghua's finger stopped on the photo, and her eyes reddened.

"That time, he was arresting drug dealers at the border. He was shot three times and almost didn't survive. He spent a week in the ICU."

Shen Minghua's voice trembled slightly.

"The first thing he said when he woke up was, 'Are the drug dealers dead or not?' Tell me, how did I give birth to such a reckless ancestor?"

Shu Yao's gaze was fixed on that photo.

My heart skipped a beat, and my stomach tightened in waves.

She always knew he had many scars, and every time they were intimate, her fingers would run over those uneven marks.

He always downplayed it, saying it was a man's medal, nothing to mention.

But now, through these yellowed photos, through Shen Minghua's narration.

Those cold scars suddenly transformed into vivid, bloody moments, carrying the strong smell of gunpowder and the aura of death, crashing straight into her eyes.

She looked at the man in the photo whose eyes gradually hardened and whose body was covered with more and more scars.

I gained a deep understanding of the passion and loyalty hidden beneath his cold and hard exterior.

Shu Yao's eyes felt hot, and the tip of her nose tingled.

She reached out her finger and gently stroked the photo of He Zheng, whose body was wrapped in bandages.

It breaks my heart.

She used to think that she relied on him because he could give her an absolute sense of security.

Now, all she wanted to do was hold this reckless, rough man in her arms and protect him.

"Well, from now on I'll keep an eye on him and make sure he doesn't work so hard anymore," Shu Yao said, her voice a little hoarse but her tone incredibly firm.

Shen Minghua turned his head, looked at Shu Yao's red eyes, took her hand in his own, and patted it.

"Good boy, I'm relieved to hear you say that. Finally, someone can keep this rascal in check."