No matter how busy she was over the years, He Zhilan had always remembered that promise—either before winter or right before the Spring Festival, she would always hand-knit a sweater for He Teng.
He Teng glanced indifferently at the spring-breeze-like smiling He Zhilan before quietly moving away, putting things in her room.
The political commissar's wife was thrilled to know that He Zhilan would stay at the military compound. Although there was some age difference between them, out of all the military families, she really got along with He Zhilan. He Zhilan wasn't arrogant, she was amiable, and when they were together, the age gap seemed nonexistent.
That evening, both families had dinner together. He Zhilan helped the political commissar's wife with the cooking. Five people from two families sat at one table—it couldn't have been more lively.
