Tang Qiyue ignored Zhan Zeyi for the moment, still upset over the gold she had donated, though it didn't stop her from eating.
The rice was excellent, but the steamed fish left something to be desired. It seemed cooked just enough to be safe, without any care for its natural texture or flavor—resulting in a rather bland dish. Tang Qiyue thought even steaming fish required precision; if she had prepared it herself, it would have been perfect.
Her mind wandered back to the beach. When she'd disembarked, she had noticed oysters clinging to the rocks, along with barnacles, conches, and other shellfish. Just the thought of them made her mouth water.
"Can I go beachcombing?" she asked, her eyes shining with excitement.
Zhan Zeyi didn't refuse. He assumed that Tang Qiyue, being a young lady, would be fascinated by the sea at first, but would likely tire of it soon.
"We can eat seafood until we're sick of it. Tomorrow I'll have people repair the yard and find some locals to take you beachcombing."
Tang Qiyue's interest was piqued. After Zhan Zeyi's explanation, she learned that while locals lived on the other side of the island, they occasionally helped with fishing, and relations between the soldiers and locals were good. Tang Qiyue nodded, understanding the spirit of "military and civilians as one family."
After dinner, Tang Qiyue didn't dare go outside. Darkness had fallen, and the waves crashed against the rocks, echoing through the night. She couldn't fall asleep, so she lit a candle.
Without electricity, everything felt primitive. Zhan Zeyi watched her rummage through the dowry chests, unpacking item after item, but didn't offer help.
"You've done enough. There isn't even a cabinet. Wait until we build one before taking everything out—you have nowhere to put it," he reminded her.
Tang Qiyue glanced back, unbothered, simply listing what she wanted: "A wardrobe, a washbasin stand, tables, and chairs!"
Zhan Zeyi promised he would get them.
Tang Qiyue, aware of the limited conditions, washed her face and feet and climbed onto the bed made from the dowry chests. Not a single plank, the gaps made it extremely uncomfortable. She tried to ignore it, but failed.
Sitting up, she glared at Zhan Zeyi. "Weren't you going to repair the bed tomorrow? Why aren't you asleep?"
Zhan Zeyi, sensing her annoyance, didn't speak, but observed her. Moonlight barely filtered through the gauze, yet he could see her expression clearly.
"This bed is uncomfortable!" she slapped the dowry chest.
Zhan Zeyi knew all too well—it was far worse than the bamboo dorm beds he'd endured. "I'll get a proper bed tomorrow," he said stiffly.
Making a fuss was pointless; she still had to sleep there. Tang Qiyue lay back down and tried to hypnotize herself into sleep, but it didn't work.
Seeing Zhan Zeyi lying comfortably beside her only annoyed her further.
Having gotten to know him, she knew he wasn't the type to force her. With a quick turn, she nestled into his arms.
For Zhan Zeyi, this was a novel feeling. Previously, he had always initiated the embrace; today, his little wife had taken the initiative. No man could remain unmoved.
"You don't want to sleep anymore?" he asked, pinching her cheek, his voice huskier than usual.
"I just want to sleep—that's why I'm like this!" she explained, finding a comfortable position in his arms. The wooden bed was unbearable; a human cushion was far preferable.
Amused by her thought process, Zhan Zeyi smirked. "You asked for this!"
He didn't throw her off or flip her onto the bed. He simply held her, though his hands weren't idle.
Tang Qiyue slapped his mischievous hands. "Aren't you getting the bed repaired tomorrow?"
The implication was clear: she would rest while he endured the discomfort.
Zhan Zeyi pinched her nape, pulling her close, and kissed her lips deeply. "Your man has plenty of strength."
Tang Qiyue yawned, nodding. "Yes, yes, you're the strongest, but I'm really sleepy!"
She wasn't pretending. After a day full of shocks and chores, she was exhausted. The rhythmic waves outside were soothing. She wrapped her arms around Zhan Zeyi's waist.
"I really want to sleep. Please stop bothering me, okay?"
Her voice was soft and coquettish, though Zhan Zeyi heard a hidden challenge. He wanted to tease her, but Tang Qiyue's breathing soon changed—she had actually fallen asleep.
Zhan Zeyi could only grit his teeth. He didn't push her away, but pulled the blanket over them, keeping her close.
Listening to the waves outside, Zhan Zeyi finally drifted to sleep himself, subconsciously holding his wife's slender waist to prevent her from rolling off.