Old Master Zhao nearly fainted from anger, but when he heard that his former granddaughter-in-law had arrived, he finally calmed down.
He stopped shouting, his voice turning gentle.
“Is that Xiao Chen?”
Chen Mianmian tried to take the receiver, but Zhao Lingcheng didn’t give it to her.
She leaned closer and shouted,
“It’s me. The baby and I are both fine.”
The old man finally relaxed, his voice filled with joy.
“You’re really pregnant?”
There was no response from Zhao Lingcheng, and the old man suddenly barked,
“Lingcheng, why aren’t you speaking?”
…
Unlike Zhao Hui, who had been unhappy when she first heard her nephew had married an illiterate woman, Old Master Zhao had always had a fondness for the northwest.
His hometown was in the northwest, and the troops he led were mostly from there as well.
When he heard his grandson had married a girl from the base, he was overjoyed and kept praising her.
Although he had retired, these years were marked by major events—counteroffensives and the split with the Soviet Union—making air defense missions extremely demanding.
He remained active, constantly traveling between various frontlines.
He had never met Chen Mianmian and had only seen a dull wedding photo.
He had never lived with her, nor been troubled by her, so he didn’t know the inside story.
When he heard about the divorce, he had been unhappy, but since it was said the woman initiated it, he didn’t comment much.
But when he heard that his pregnant granddaughter-in-law had been abandoned and was wandering the streets, how could he not be furious?
Zhao Lingcheng asked only one question:
“Who told you Xiao Chen is pregnant?”
But the old man didn’t care about that.
“She’s really pregnant? And you brought her back to the base?”
Zhao Lingcheng insisted,
“Who told you this?”
Then he explained,
“The situation is complicated. I can’t explain it in a sentence or two. But whoever told you this ignored your health and deliberately distorted the facts. Their motive is questionable. You must tell me who it was.”
The old man replied,
“Lingcheng, I understand your nature. But if you dare to reveal your true nature, I’ll personally execute you!”
Zhao Lingcheng said numbly,
“If you get this worked up, you might die of anger before you can execute me.”
The guard outside didn’t hear this, but Chen Mianmian did, and it made her heart race.
In the original story, she had read that although the Zhao family was small, their relationships weren’t harmonious.
There were many historical issues involved. Knowing it wasn’t appropriate to listen further, she stepped out of the guardroom.
From a moral standpoint, however, Zhao Lingcheng was definitely a decent man.
Because the supporting character had been binding her belly to hide her pregnancy, it didn’t look like seven months.
If Zhao Lingcheng had exposed this, she could have been expelled from the base immediately—but he didn’t.
Listening carefully, she heard him say,
“I just saw my ex-wife. She is indeed pregnant.”
Then,
“Calm down. I’ll report back as soon as there’s a result.”
Old Master Zhao had once raised many children, but now his family had dwindled.
Not knowing the full situation, his voice was anxious.
“Talk it out properly. You must keep the child.”
Then he pleaded,
“At least let me see my great-grandchild before I die, okay?”
Zhao Lingcheng hung up and told the guard,
“If the commander calls again, say I’m working overtime.”
His work was too important. If he said he was working, the old man wouldn’t dare disturb him easily.
The guard stood at attention.
“Yes, sir.”
Zhao Lingcheng couldn’t figure out who had spread the news—if it wasn’t Zhao Hui, then who had deliberately reported this to the old man?
What was their purpose? Did they want to anger him to death?
Who was it?
Chen Mianmian thought of someone—the unnamed senior police officer.
The more she thought about it, the more certain she became. It must have been him who passed on the news of her pregnancy.
But since Zhao Lingcheng didn’t ask, she wisely chose to stay silent.
Otherwise, she feared he might kick her out of the base, and she’d truly end up wandering the streets.
…
In the 1960s, people had little entertainment.
After dinner, families gathered near the artificial rock at the entrance of the residential compound, knitting, mending clothes, and gossiping.
When Zhao Lingcheng passed by, Jiang Xia smiled and said,
“Afraid you’re too busy working, Uncle Zhao has to hold it in no matter how anxious he is. Good thing you’re finally free.”
Her father was Zhao Lingcheng’s distant uncle, and her family lived with Old Master Zhao.
Her younger brother Jiang De also worked at the base in logistics.
Her husband, Li Huaicai, had been Zhao Lingcheng’s subordinate but went missing in a sandstorm last year.
Zhao Lingcheng had always been polite to her. He stopped and said,
“Yes, Auntie.”
Jiang Xia glanced meaningfully at Chen Mianmian.
“You and Xiao Chen… seem to be doing quite well, huh.”
The families fell silent, all watching them.
But under everyone’s gaze, Zhao Lingcheng said,
“We still haven’t found Shuai Shuai’s father. I’m sorry.”
Shuai Shuai’s father was Jiang Xia’s husband—the one who had been lost in the sandstorm and presumed dead.
At the mention of him, Jiang Xia lost all interest in gossip.
“…Sigh.”
The others lowered their heads, no longer in the mood to chat.
But her son, Little Shuai Shuai, suddenly said,
“My cousin looks like a pine tree, and she looks like a bear!”
The children burst into laughter.
Zhao Lingcheng stood tall and straight like a pine, while Chen Mianmian, wrapped in a bulky coat, did look like a bear.
With so many people around, Chen Mianmian didn’t scold the kids.
But she glared at Little Shuai Shuai and bared her teeth in a grin: Dare to mock me? You’re finished.
…
The northwest weather could freeze you one moment and turn hot the next.
Today was hot. The wives in the compound wore light clothes, some even in dresses.
Only Chen Mianmian was still wrapped in a thick, oversized wool coat.
Zhao Lingcheng walked ahead and, when they were alone, asked,
“Were all your clothes stolen too?”
Chen Mianmian explained,
“They’re too tight. I’m afraid of squeezing Niuniu, so I’m wearing something loose.”
Zhao Lingcheng frowned.
“Niuniu? Who’s that?”
Strangely, although everyone wore similar uniforms, his always looked neat and crisp.
Under the moonlight, his pale skin contrasted with the green fabric—he was actually quite handsome in a refined way.
Chen Mianmian lied seriously,
“I dreamed the baby is a girl, so I named her Niuniu.”
She added,
“I also dreamed she’s very cute—and looks just like you.”
Fathers usually don’t develop feelings before the child is born.
Especially since Zhao Lingcheng wasn’t even sure the child was his.
But at that moment, the baby moved, as if cooperating.
Chen Mianmian quickly lifted her belly.
“Look, she’s moving.”
Seeing someone approaching, Zhao Lingcheng quickened his pace.
“Let’s talk inside.”
He planned to explain due dates and blood type testing to her.
He believed that once she understood the scientific methods to verify paternity, she wouldn’t dare lie anymore.
He had already booked her a room at the guesthouse. If the negotiation went well, he could send his ex-wife away tonight.
But things didn’t go smoothly.
Just as he opened the door, someone called out,
“Engineer Zhao, please wait.”
Thinking it was the guard again, he said,
“If it’s a call, tell them I’m working overtime.”
But it wasn’t a guard—it was a military doctor.
“There’s a file for you. It’s urgent,” the doctor said, glancing at Chen Mianmian.
“It’s about a pregnant woman who may have a difficult labor.”
Zhao Lingcheng replied,
“Then she should see a doctor.”
Still, he reached out.
“She’s a civilian—and someone I know. She wants treatment at the base.”
Aside from restricted areas, military hospitals were open to civilians, especially pregnant women.