Back to the ‘70s: My Life as the Trouble-Maker's Bride

Stuart frowned, puzzled as he looked at Song Ryan, wondering when exactly he had offended the family from the capital city.

Song Ryan closed the door behind him, paying no mind to Dr. Lu still being there, and hurriedly said, "I just saw the old master's granddaughter, Celia. Has she been assigned to your department?"

Stuart rarely saw Song Ryan so flustered, and since he didn't know anyone named Celia, he replied, "I don't know her."

Song Ryan slapped his forehead, realizing Stuart didn't know who Celia was. "She's the old master's second granddaughter, twenty-five years old, discharged from the military last year. The one I mentioned—the tomboy who's been waiting for job placement. I just saw her at the gate, carrying a duffel bag and a tote, asking directions to the second office. Isn't that your unit?"

Stuart had heard of recruits being assigned to the unit, though not to their security department, but to the intelligence division, which was more suitable for female officers.

He was surprised, but did Song Ryan need to make such a fuss?

…

Annette had just taken Uncle Sam and Little Sam to the ward when she noticed Little Sam had taken off his shoes, his toes and heels exposed. Feeling uneasy, she decided to buy him some socks.

As she exited the hospital, she spotted a young woman in olive-green military uniform carrying a matching quilted blanket and slung bag, with a white enamel basin tied with a towel on top.

Annette couldn't help but glance twice. Despite the uniform's loose and plain style, it couldn't hide the young woman's spirited aura.

No wonder people said these days they preferred military gear over fancy dresses—she truly looked striking.

The young woman seemed to notice Annette's gaze and turned with a bright smile.

Annette smiled politely back, then stepped out. When she returned, the young woman had disappeared.

Back at the ward, Dr. Lu, Stuart, and Song Ryan were present. Dr. Lu was explaining the surgery risks and duration to Uncle Sam.

The hospital wasn't as crowded as later years. A surgery slot opened tomorrow, so they decided to operate on Little Sam first to ease everyone's mind sooner.

Uncle Sam had no concept of the medical details, only quietly watching Stuart to make decisions.

Dr. Lu kindly reassured him, "Sir, don't worry. It's a very minor surgery. And Little Sam is young, so recovery will be quick—discharge in three days."

Suppressing his fear, Uncle Sam looked at Stuart, "You decide."

The surgery was scheduled, and Dr. Lu reminded them that Little Sam should start fasting tonight to avoid complications, but could have light porridge or milk powder to prevent hunger.

Annette planned to fetch milk powder and malted milk from the guesthouse later to supplement Little Sam's nutrition before and after surgery.

After Dr. Lu left, Uncle Sam sat trembling beside the bed.

Stuart placed a comforting hand on his shoulder, "Uncle Sam, Little Sam will be fine. If you keep like this, he'll sense it and get scared too."

Uncle Sam wiped away tears, choked, unable to speak, and just gently stroked Little Sam's head.

Knowing words wouldn't calm him, Stuart suggested Song Ryan stay with Uncle Sam in the ward while he took Annette out to discuss something.

Curious, Annette followed, "What's the matter?"

Stuart explained the plan discussed with Dr. Lu: "It's a good opportunity. If you perform well, you could stay in the city."

Annette considered it. No news about restoring the college entrance exams yet—it would likely be two months later. Staying in the city was better, but Stuart would be going back to the military housing.

"So, does that mean we'll be apart?" she asked.

Stuart nodded. "Once I'm healed, I'll return to the unit."

Annette frowned. "But living apart isn't good for married life."

Stuart remained silent; their relationship seemed more responsible than affectionate.

Annette knew this was an opportunity—if she couldn't secure a university spot, she could at least become a doctor through this route and maybe advance further later.

She couldn't always rely on Stuart. Only in the city could she study and find ways to earn money.

Going back to the military housing meant endless battles with unfriendly people or idle time knitting and gossiping.

But if she stayed, she'd be apart from Stuart—this older man she hadn't quite won over yet. At best, he just tolerated her and did so out of duty.

Stuart quietly watched her conflicted face, puzzled by how hard it was for her to decide.

Hadn't she always wanted to stay in the city?

Annette hesitated, then looked up at him, "Can I come visit you?"

Stuart nodded. "Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, the logistics department sends a vehicle to the city to pick up supplies. Just wait at the central station around 3 PM."

Her worries lifted instantly—she wanted both the man and her career.

Beaming, she said, "Great. Let's go back to the guesthouse and get the milk powder and malted milk for Little Sam. He's only had thin gruel lately, and milk powder's more nutritious."

On the way back, she reminded Stuart to buy a fine-toothed comb. Holding the narrow comb, she ran her fingers through it, realizing each tooth was thin enough for a single hair—this must be the comb.

At the guesthouse, they encountered the same young woman in the green uniform.

She had probably just checked in and was carrying a lunchbox downstairs, likely heading to the cafeteria.

She smiled kindly at Annette, but when she saw Stuart, her eyes widened in shock. She took a few steps back, then abruptly ran upstairs.

Annette guessed it was because Stuart's serious demeanor was intimidating at first glance.

That beautiful young woman had just been scared away.

Celia rushed back to her room, clutching a basin, rummaging through her luggage to find a notebook.

Inside the front page was a small, half-palm-sized black-and-white photo, its edges frayed and yellowed.

It showed their family of six: father, mother, eldest brother Lucien, second brother Leon, sister Bianca, and herself.

The photo was taken the year Leon first enlisted—his face was refined and gentle.

Three years ago, Leon sent a letter mentioning he'd discovered a secret but didn't say what it was. Not long after, he died on the battlefield.

Celia's eyes reddened as she touched the photo.

The man she'd seen downstairs looked exactly like her brother Leon.

But Leon was warm and gentle, while that man's eyes were sharp—like a wolf.

Their temperaments couldn't be more different.

Why did they look so much alike?