Volume One, Chapter 11: She Is My Wife

Song Yi was unaware of Shang Chen’s misunderstanding. The next day, after packing their belongings, she boarded the train with Shang Chen to An City.

An City is the capital of a northwestern province, over seven hundred kilometers from Juye County. Thirty-five years later, a bullet train would take just four hours, but at this time, only the old green train was available, requiring thirteen hours of travel.

They departed in the afternoon and arrived in An City at seven the next morning.

It was early dawn. The sunlight bathed the aged yet quaint ancient city, imbuing it with a grand and majestic aura.

Song Yi gazed quietly, her eyes shimmering with faint ripples of emotion.

This was An City in 1988, a place on the cusp of revival.

As long as she seized the opportunity, she was certain she could change her destiny.

Shang Chen returned with their luggage and saw Song Yi staring into the distance, her delicate face flushed with a light rosy glow from excitement.

He rubbed his fingertips, suppressing the urge to touch her cheek. “What are you looking at?”

Song Yi was in high spirits; the fatigue from the overnight train journey had vanished. She pointed toward the city. “Shang Chen, do you believe it? This place will transform into something entirely different. Low-rise buildings will become towering skyscrapers, cobblestone streets replaced by cement roads. The ubiquitous old bicycles will disappear, replaced by all kinds of luxury cars.

And these shops will become more and more dazzling.”

Shang Chen raised an eyebrow. “How do you know?”

The government had just released documents promoting vigorous economic development, encouraging commerce, though implementation was not yet complete.

He believed these changes were entirely possible with the country’s power. But how did she know? After all, she hadn’t even left Juye County.

Song Yi smiled softly without replying, her eyes deep and captivating.

Shang Chen’s gaze flickered in her dark eyes, and the long-suppressed heat surged within him once more. He looked away and murmured softly.

A guard approached, took the luggage from Shang Chen’s hands, but kept glancing at Song Yi. “Company Commander, who is she?”

He had heard the commander had returned to bring his grandmother, but no grandmother appeared—only a stunning beauty.

Could she be the commander’s sister?

If so, all the single men in the unit would be in luck, including himself.

Shang Chen caught the glint in Li Liang’s eyes and kicked his calf sharply. “She’s my wife. Call her sister-in-law.”

Li Liang was so stunned he forgot to react to the pain, his eyes wide. “What? Sister-in-law?”

This... no one had heard that the commander had a partner before.

He’d only been gone a week, and now he was already married!

Hearing the word “wife,” Song Yi’s cheeks warmed. She extended her hand politely. “Hello, I’m Song Yi.”

Shang Chen glanced at Li Liang, lips curling coldly.

Li Liang dared not shake hands, instantly snapped to attention and said seriously, “Hello, sister-in-law! I’m Li Liang.”

Song Yi smiled and got into the car with Shang Chen, returning to the military family compound. Looking at the red brick and tile house, surprise flickered in her eyes.

She had expected a typical 1980s communal apartment but was surprised to find a detached farmhouse with decent rooms, bright windows, and even a separate kitchen.

Li Liang escorted them in, and after confirming Shang Chen gave no further instructions, he left.

Shang Chen carried the luggage inside and noticed Song Yi still standing. In a low voice, he said, “If you’re tired, you can rest in the room.”

Just as Song Yi was about to reply, a joyful, coquettish voice interrupted—

“Brother Shang, you really came back!”

Ji Wenqian stared at Shang Chen intently, her cheeks flushed, her eyes practically glued to him.

Seeing the luggage in his hands, she reached out to help. “Oh, why are you carrying so much? Let me help you.”

Shang Chen avoided her hand, his expression unusually cold. “No need, Comrade Ji.”

Ji Wenqian pouted and stomped her foot. “I told you to call me Wenqian, not comrade. You’re so unromantic.”

She was the daughter of the commanding officer, beautiful and studious, adored by everyone in the unit and their families. Yet Brother Shang was like a stone—always indifferent whenever he saw her.

But it was that very coldness that made her obsess over him, feeling he was unlike the other men who fawned over her. Moreover, Brother Shang was the best soldier in the unit, excelling in competitions and promoted early to company commander for his merits.

She especially liked Brother Shang, even dreaming of marrying him.

Shang Chen seemed not to hear her, his tone still sharp. “What are you doing at my place?”

Ji Wenqian had no real business, only wanted to see her beloved, but she couldn’t say that.

She bit her lip and awkwardly changed the subject: “Brother Shang, who is this? Your sister?”

Song Yi hesitated, unsure how to explain, when Shang Chen coldly said—

“She’s my wife.”

Song Yi: “...”

His use of “wife” sounded increasingly natural.

Ji Wenqian was incredulous. “You... you’re married?”

Everyone had said he was single before. How could he have a wife after such a short time?

This... this was impossible!

Song Yi keenly sensed Ji Wenqian’s warmth had turned to hostility, her glare seeming to burn holes in her.

She found it amusing and gracefully greeted Ji Wenqian. “Hello, Comrade Ji, I’m Song Yi.”

“Hello,” Ji Wenqian replied stiffly, then, very aggrieved, asked, “Brother Shang, why did you suddenly get married?”

Song Yi understood perfectly—Ji Wenqian obviously liked Shang Chen and was deeply hurt to learn he was married.

Shang Chen frowned, his tone cold. “Does it concern you?”

She was far too meddlesome.

Ji Wenqian, unused to such treatment, paled, muttered “It’s nothing,” and turned to leave. But before running off, she glared fiercely at Song Yi as if they were mortal enemies.

Song Yi didn’t care. She was used to hard work her whole life; a young girl’s petty jealousy was insignificant, especially since her marriage to Shang Chen was fake and bound to end.

Yet, her indifference did not stop others from caring—and from coming to confront her.

Shortly after breakfast, the commander's wife arrived with Ji Wenqian at the door.

Dressed in a white, modified cheongsam, the commander's wife exuded an aura of privilege and refinement.

Upon entering, she sat with Ji Wenqian on the sofa and smiled at Shang Chen. “Little Shang, I heard from Wenqian that you’re married. What’s the story?”

Song Yi found it odd. No matter how good Shang Chen was, he wasn’t a wealthy aristocrat or a military-political heir. Was it really necessary for the commander's wife to come personally just because Ji Wenqian liked him?