Tang Qiyue used a gleaming scalpel to remove the stitches from Zhan Zeyi's wound that had not yet come loose.
Before Zhan Zeyi could jump up to stop her, she asked calmly,
"Did the injury damage your internal organs? Were they stitched as well?"
Zhan Zeyi instinctively shook his head.
"Only the skin was stitched."
Tang Qiyue immediately understood.
Although the injury had been serious, it clearly wasn't as exaggerated as Tang Chunlan had described. Since only the skin had been stitched, it meant the internal organs were not badly damaged.
As for the rumor that he couldn't have children, Tang Qiyue guessed it was probably related to kidney damage.
However, that wasn't a problem for her.
She had access to medical technology from another timeline and wasn't worried about fertility issues.
After disinfecting the wound, Tang Qiyue removed the remaining stitches. The wound opened slightly, and fresh blood flowed out.
If she had a medical treatment device, she could have inserted two absorbable sutures and closed the wound immediately before applying medication.
Unfortunately, no such equipment existed in this era.
So Tang Qiyue took out the simplest wound-closure strips from the first-aid kit. Although they were called strips, they were actually made of a special material that could be absorbed by the skin. Their purpose was to tighten the skin and temporarily hold the tissue together.
After applying the medicine, she carefully bandaged the wound with gauze.
Although the process sounded complicated, Tang Qiyue worked very quickly. Zhan Zeyi barely understood what she had done before she had already finished.
"It's going to feel very itchy now," she said.
"Don't scratch it."
After speaking, Tang Qiyue removed her rubber gloves and threw them—along with the packaging she had hidden in her pocket—into the stove near the door.
The fire was weak, but it was strong enough to ignite the items.
Zhan Zeyi noticed what she was doing and wanted to stop her.
But he didn't.
He wasn't stupid. He could clearly tell that Tang Qiyue was deliberately burning those things in front of him so he wouldn't question where they came from.
Since Zhan Zeyi said nothing, Tang Qiyue calmly packed away the first-aid kit and continued organizing her dowry.
Several minutes passed—or perhaps even longer.
Soon, Zhan Zeyi felt a strange itch coming from the wound on his waist.
He was amazed by the effectiveness of the medicine Tang Qiyue had used. He wanted to ask her about it, but he opened his mouth several times and ultimately said nothing.
Fortunately, Chen Dazhuang and the others arrived, breaking the awkward silence in the room.
It was already past midnight.
Instead of driving—since the noise might attract attention—they arrived with a handcart.
Even though the boxes were empty, they were still heavy. Fortunately, they could be moved quietly.
Working in the darkness, they packed the boxes.
After everything was finished, Zhan Zeyi instructed them to bring the boxes back early the next morning. He also asked them to prepare additional supplies.
Once the arrangements were complete, Chen Dazhuang and the others left.
Zhan Zeyi was still worried and planned to accompany them.
Before leaving, he reminded Tang Qiyue,
"Don't wait up for me. I'll be back early tomorrow morning. You should get some rest."
Tang Qiyue nodded and watched them disappear through the doorway before closing the door.
Just as she turned around, she almost bumped into Zhan's mother, who had come out wearing a coat.
"Go to sleep quickly," Zhan's mother said calmly.
"We have to travel tomorrow."
She didn't ask any questions.
After so many years, she was already used to the secrets surrounding her son. She knew when to ask questions and when to remain silent.
Tang Qiyue obediently nodded and returned to her room.
As soon as she lay down on the bed, overwhelming fatigue washed over her.
She had used up her system points earlier but strangely felt no emotional reaction to it.
Before drifting off to sleep, she briefly thought about Zhan Zeyi's wound and wondered how shocked he would be when he removed the bandage.
While Tang Qiyue slept, Zhan Zeyi was examining his wound.
The injury had been bloody only a few hours ago.
Now, however, it had already formed a scab.
The wound-closure strips he had seen earlier had completely disappeared.
He pressed lightly against the wound.
The swelling and pain were gone, replaced by the normal sensation of healthy skin.
Even a fool could tell something unusual had happened.
His young wife clearly had many secrets.
But Zhan Zeyi had no intention of asking her about them.
He knew that extraordinary people existed in the world—people with unusual abilities who disliked being treated like monsters.
So he simply rewrapped the wound with gauze and decided to keep the matter to himself.
Despite his habit of speaking carelessly, no one could force information out of him when it came to matters of principle.
He didn't sleep the entire night.
Instead, he watched as Chen Dazhuang and the others pried open the hidden compartments inside the boxes.
One piece of gold after another appeared.
At first everyone was excited.
Then their expressions gradually became serious.
Even the old leader who came to observe fell silent.
He finally understood why so many people hated capitalists.
This was only part of the Tang family's hidden wealth, yet it was already shocking.
One could easily imagine how wealthy other capitalist families might be.
The old leader took the gold and said to Zhan Zeyi,
"I'll take these first."
"You take the supplies and permits. If anyone tries to stop you, just call me."
With the gold in hand, the old leader felt much more confident and quickly approved the necessary travel permits.
Zhan Zeyi understood that hiding such a large amount of gold would be extremely difficult.
But with his old leader supporting him, they had nothing to worry about.
After the boxes were reassembled, Zhan Zeyi finally yawned.
Now he could go home and sleep.
When he returned home before dawn, Zhan Zeyi expected to climb over the wall to open the door.
But the door was already open.
Clearly his mother had been waiting inside and had heard the commotion.
"Mother, I—"
Zhan Zeyi tried to explain.
But his mother waved him off.
"I'm sleepy. Hurry up and bring the things in and go to bed."
She rubbed her hands together, tucked them into her sleeves, and went back inside.
Chen Dazhuang patted Zhan Zeyi's shoulder with envy.
No wonder Zhan's mother, a widow, had been able to raise three children during such chaotic times.
She was incredibly perceptive—she knew exactly what to ask and what to ignore.
With such wisdom, it was no surprise that their family prospered.
Chen Dazhuang and Hu Peng carried the boxes to the doorway but didn't stay long.
They still needed to return the vehicle the next day.
After seeing them off, Zhan Zeyi closed the door and went back inside.
The door to the bedroom wasn't bolted.
Clearly Tang Qiyue had woken up earlier and removed the latch.
Zhan Zeyi lay down on the bed and felt the warmth of the blankets.
For the first time, this rough and careless man felt a strange warmth in his heart.
It was difficult to describe.
So this was what it felt like to have a wife warming the bed.
He had often heard his comrades talk about things like "wife, children, and a warm bed."
He had always dismissed it.
But now he understood.
Without any sense of shame, Zhan Zeyi pulled Tang Qiyue into his arms.
Ignoring her weak protests, he gently bit her earlobe.
His deep, husky voice vibrated against her ear as he whispered:
"Either I hold you while you sleep…"
"Or we sleep together."
"You choose."