Marriage in the 1970s: The Political Commissar's Contract Wife

Time flies, and before they knew it, it was the day before the "wedding." Under Wang Chun's meticulous care, Zhi Xia's postpartum recovery was very smooth, and her body had mostly recovered. Her face was no longer sickly pale, but had regained a healthy rosy glow.

In the courtyard, Zhi Xia and Wang Chun sat under the jujube tree, chatting and laughing, their brows relaxed, carrying a sense of peace and relief as if they had survived a disaster. For the past month, Fang Chu had adhered to the unspoken boundaries, never overstepping them.

As they were chatting and laughing, there was a gentle knock on the courtyard gate. Wang Chun ran to open it, and there was Fang Chu. He was carrying a brand-new paper bag containing two of the most fashionable red dresses of the moment, and a pair of shiny black leather shoes.

Upon seeing Fang Chu, Zhi Xia didn't immediately look away or turn back into the house as she usually did. Instead, she raised her head and smiled slightly at him. The smile was faint, but it no longer carried the sharp hostility and cold distance.

Over the past month, Fang Chu's actions have earned him a small respite. Each time he came, he would simply stand at the courtyard gate or whisper a few words with Wang Chun in the outer room, carefully inquiring about Zhi Xia's health, appetite, sleep, and whether she had any particular desires. He never tried to force his way into Zhi Xia's room, nor did he ever act as her "fiancé," giving her the utmost respect and space.

And the next time he came, he would always bring her whatever she casually mentioned or that Wang Chun relayed as what she needed. From nourishing supplements to snacks that girls like, to books and magazines, and the money that was never lacking, enough for them to live comfortably.

This silent, responsive, and distant giving, like a gentle stream, slowly seeped in, allowing Zhixia to feel a touch of... well-being, a sense of being properly taken care of, within an atmosphere of absolute security.

She hated the cause of the marriage and couldn't forgive his initial hurt, but she approved of, and was even somewhat satisfied with, his actions over the past month.

Fang Chu handed the things in his hand to Wang Chun, his gaze quickly sweeping over Zhi Xia's smiling face. His heart felt as if something had gently bumped into him, a little sour, but more so a sense of indescribable comfort.

"I'll pick you up tomorrow," he said softly, then turned and left as usual without lingering.

Watching his departing figure, Zhi Xia's smile slowly faded, turning into a barely audible sigh.

Tomorrow, the show put on for outsiders will begin.

Wang Chun took out the two red dresses from the paper bag. The fabric was smooth, the color was bright red, and it shone with a high-class luster in the sunlight.

Her eyes lit up, and she eagerly shoved it into Zhixia's hands: "Go change into it quickly! Let me see! The material, the workmanship, it's so good!"

Zhixia looked at the brand-new dress in her hand and softly replied, "Mm."

She went back inside and changed into one of the dresses. The dress fit her perfectly, with a waistline that accentuated her fair complexion and slender figure, making it even more exquisite and elegant than the one she had made herself.

Wang Chun circled her twice, clicking her tongue in admiration: "So beautiful! Absolutely stunning!" She took Zhi Xia's hand, lowered her voice, and, with the shrewdness of someone with experience and the protectiveness of her sister, imparted her "experience":

"Xiaxia, do you see? Money is what sustains you! After you marry Political Commissar Fang, everything else is secondary. You absolutely must have his money in your hands! You have to get it all! Then spend it as much as you want, take good care of yourself, and make yourself look radiant and beautiful. That's more important than anything else!"

Zhi Xia listened to her "plan" full of life wisdom, and simply smiled faintly, replying, "Mm."

"Wear this tomorrow!" Wang Chun clapped his hands, concluding definitively, "It'll definitely make Political Commissar Fang completely smitten!"

"Okay," Zhixia obediently agreed as before.

Looking at her calm and composed face, Wang Chun dropped his joking expression and his tone became serious and sincere:

"Xiaxia, I know you don't like Political Commissar Fang, and you even... hate him a little. But you're 'getting married' tomorrow, so your relationship is officially settled. There's a long road ahead. If he... is truly good to you, is sincere, and cares about you, then... why don't you give it a try?"

She counted Fang Chu's good points on her fingers, trying to paint a realistic and bright future for her friend:

"Look at him, he's handsome and talented, and his family background is impeccable. Someone like him is bound to have a bright future in the army, and he'll go much further. If you follow him, I can't guarantee anything else, but you'll definitely live a life of luxury, wearing gold and silver, and everyone will flatter and respect you. This is the kind of life many people would kill for."

Wang Chun's words were simple, straightforward, and even somewhat worldly, yet they represented the most realistic expectations that the vast majority of people in this era have for marriage. She genuinely hoped that Zhi Xia could have a good life, even if that good life began with an unpleasant start.

Zhi Xia listened quietly, neither refuting nor agreeing. She simply reached out and gently smoothed out a barely perceptible crease on her skirt, her gaze fixed on the distance, carrying a profound tranquility that Wang Chun could not fully comprehend, a tranquility that transcended the immediate material gains and losses.

Looking at the silent Zhixia, Wang Chun understood that her advice about future prospects and wealth could not truly touch the wounds in her friend's heart. She said nothing more, but stepped forward and gently embraced Zhixia, her voice firm yet warm:

"Xiaxia, no matter what you choose, no matter what happens in the future, I will always stand by your side."

These simple yet weighty words, like a warm current, instantly broke down a corner of Zhixia's defenses. She hugged Wang Chun back, resting her chin on her friend's slightly thin shoulder, her voice trembling slightly:

"Thank you, Xiaochun."

"No need to thank me!" Wang Chun patted her on the back, his tone filled with unwavering loyalty. "You're my best friend. If I don't stand by your side, whose side am I? Even if the sky falls, I'll be there to support you!"

Sensing Zhixia's low spirits, Wang Chun deliberately adopted a lighthearted tone and began to "devise a plan," with a naive yet satisfyingly ruthless edge:

"Let's not be sad anymore! From now on, you can spend all his money! Spend all the money he gave you! Buy the most expensive clothes, use the nicest face cream, and eat the best food! Turn him into a pauper, and see how arrogant he can be then! This is the price he pays for bullying you!"