Bright Sword: The Flowers of War

Chapter 123 actually lit up!
After Su Yaoyang picked up Song Mei, he got into the car, and the driver immediately started the vehicle and drove out of the city.

"Mingxi, I'm really sorry about what happened earlier. That Dr. Yang is..." Fearing that Su Yaoyang might misunderstand what had just happened, Song Mei tried to explain as soon as she got into the car, but Su Yaoyang stopped her.

"Alright, I know you too well." Su Yaoyang smiled faintly, put his arm around her shoulder, and Song Mei struggled for a moment, but then gave him a big eye roll and lowered her head, clearly admitting it.

Although they were only separated for five or six days, it felt like an eternity. The two people in the back seat snuggled together and never separated again until the vehicle drove into the military camp in the suburbs and stopped outside the tents.

As soon as the two got out of the car, they saw Xiao Lu jumping and skipping towards them, excitedly taking their arms. "Young Master, Sister Mei, you're finally back!"

You must be tired after a long day. I've prepared a meal; you can eat as soon as you wash your hands.

Without waiting for their reply, she took their arms and walked towards the tent.

After washing up briefly, the three of them sat down around a small round table and ate a meal consisting of four dishes (two meat dishes, two vegetable dishes, and a soup).

This dish, which would seem ordinary to common people in later generations, is exceptionally rare in this day and age. The three of them tacitly remained silent, eating their meal quietly and cherishing this precious time of reunion.

After finishing his meal, Su Yaoyang moved a bench to sit in front of the tent and looked at the sky in silence.

Song Mei and Xiao Lu also came over and sat on his left and right sides respectively, linking arms with him and snuggling up to him.

Light poured down like water, enveloping the camp in a silvery glow.

Su Yaoyang leaned back in his chair, his gaze piercing through the thin clouds and landing on the twinkling stars in the distance. The night breeze ruffled his hair, carrying the scent of grass and earth, a refreshing and invigorating feeling.

Song Mei's fingertips gently traced the crook of his arm, the warm touch seeping through the cotton sleeve. She pressed her cheek against his shoulder, her eyelashes casting dappled shadows in the moonlight. "The moon is so bright tonight," she said softly, as if afraid to disturb the night.

Xiao Lu, on the other side, suddenly tightened her arms, pulling Su Yaoyang's arm closer to her. Her bent knees bumped into an empty can standing on the grass, the clinking sound startling several crickets hiding in the bushes.

The three overlapping shadows swayed slightly with her movements, stretching longer on the gravel-strewn path.

The bright, soft moonlight shone on the three people, casting three long shadows. These shadows were so close together that they seemed to be firmly stuck together, never to be separated.

After a long silence... Song Mei's voice rang in my ears: "Mingxi... when... are you going back to the front lines?"

"I have to go back first thing tomorrow morning," Su Yaoyang said. "The Japanese are launching a fierce offensive right now, and I need to go back and oversee things."

"Ah."

Song Mei simply responded softly, and after a long while, she whispered, "It's getting late, let's get some rest."

"Oh..." Su Yaoyang responded first, then his eyes widened.

Wait... what did she just say?
Should we get some rest? Perhaps...

Hey… Overjoyed, Su Yaoyang didn't hesitate for a moment, barely containing his elation, and led the two shy women into the tent. (Sigh… it's all tears when I think about it. Back when A-Ding was young, a woman downstairs, a close friend of his, who had just gotten divorced, called and asked him to fix her faucet. A-Ding actually, like an idiot, grabbed a wrench and went downstairs. Thinking back to the way she looked at him like he was a moron, he wants to slap himself now.)
The leather rugs inside the tent still held the warmth of the sun. Su Yaoyang stumbled when he kicked the table, causing the two women to gasp softly. Moonlight filtered through the gaps in the felt, illuminating the overturned bottle on the table, the spilled water meandering along the grain of the sandalwood.

Suddenly, a nightingale flew over the camp, startling the tent flaps. The two women flinched at the same time; one's hairpin caught on his belt, and the other's socks had somehow slipped down to her ankles.

The footsteps of the soldiers patrolling outside the tent gradually faded into the distance, while the intermittent chirping of crickets could still be heard from the grass.

The night was as dark as ink, and a warm, enchanting fragrance filled the flickering candlelight and gauze curtains.

Song Mei's long eyelashes were still wet with tears. She looked like a exhausted fish, her fair skin flushed, and her fingertips curled weakly on Su Yaoyang's clothes.

When the last bit of strength was drained away, she tilted her head back and let out a whimper like a kitten. Her sweaty temples clung to her flushed cheeks, and her whole body went limp like melting spring snow.

Xiao Lu, however, remained like a sparrow tasting honey for the first time, gently biting the man's shoulder with her pearly teeth and refusing to let go. Her rounded shoulders trembled slightly with her panting, her almond-shaped eyes misted with tears, and she fiercely dug her nails into his arm until she heard Song Mei's long, even breathing beside her. Only then did she suddenly deflate, collapsing onto the brocade quilt as if her bones had been pulled out.

Two winding wet streaks crisscrossed Su Yaoyang's chest. Song Mei's lips, still unconsciously rubbing against his chest in her sleep, exhaled warm breath with a sweet, cloying quality.

Xiao Lu, like a fledgling returning to its nest, curled up into a small ball, her knees stubbornly pressed against his legs, as if she wanted to compete even in her dreams.

"Mingxi, don't worry..." Song Mei suddenly frowned in her dream, her nail-painted fingertips tracing the man's collarbone, her hoarse voice like honey-soaked silk threads, "I, Song Mei, am yours in life and in death."

A sob escaped her throat, and hot tears suddenly fell onto Su Yaoyang's neck, making his heart tremble.

Xiao Lu immediately perked up her ears in her drowsy state and hurriedly replied with a nasal tone, "Young Master..."

She suddenly bit her lower lip, buried her face in his armpit as if in a fierce manner, and mumbled in a muffled voice, "I... me too." The last part of her words turned into a breathy breath with a sob in it, which made the man's waist go numb.

Moonlight streamed through the gauze window, casting the overlapping shadows of the three people onto the wall. As Su Yaoyang drew his arms in, he heard two distinct sets of breathing sounds.

Song Mei's breath was like crushed flower petals, gently landing on his neck; Xiao Lu, on the other hand, was like a little animal guarding its food, each breath carrying a wet, nasal tone.

He looked down and met Xiao Lu's suddenly raised lips in her sleep—that smug yet childlike smile, like a child who had just won a battle.

Before dawn the next day, Su Yaoyang quietly got out of bed, fumbled to get dressed, and then gently kissed each of the two women on the forehead. He whispered in their ears, "When I come back, I will definitely marry you in a grand and glorious way."

After saying that, he turned and left the tent. Soon, the roar of a car engine could be heard outside, and then the sound faded into the distance.

What Su Yaoyang didn't know was that in the darkness, the two women, who had been fast asleep, quietly opened their eyes, their beautiful eyes already filled with tears.

Since it was still dark, Su Yaoyang, who was leaning back in the back seat, planned to take a nap. When he closed his eyes and habitually focused his mind on the necklace around his neck, he suddenly gasped.

He saw that the option representing heavy artillery and aircraft had actually lit up...

(End of this chapter)