Going back half a century, it was the time of the great famine—people even resorted to cannibalism.
But after hearing the old man talk about it so many times, Zhao Lingcheng had already grown numb to suffering. He could no longer truly empathize.
Still, he patiently comforted him. “My uncles all had sons who didn’t survive. This one will definitely be a boy too.”
As if under a curse, the Zhao family only had boys—never girls.
The old man sighed. “Our family has been too harsh on girls. It’s possible they no longer want to be reborn into our family.”
His tone turned firm. “If it’s a girl and you abandon her, Lingcheng, I won’t be able to rest in peace.”
Zhao Lingcheng didn’t want that either. But what if she turned out to be a frail, skinny girl like little Miaomiao?
She would need a mother—even if that mother wasn’t very good.
The old man was right. A child, no matter how intelligent, would become ordinary—or even worse—without a good environment.
But if the child were raised solely by his ex-wife, what if she turned out just like her?
Just a few days ago, Zhao Lingcheng had been a carefree bachelor.
Now, everything had changed. He had to seriously consider raising and educating a child.
The old man suddenly said, “Since nothing suspicious was found on your side, could it really be Xiao Chen’s problem?”
Then added, “Could it be that you’re always out in the desert—dirty, smelly, with a bad temper—so she fell for someone else and divorced you?”
In Chen Mianmian’s latest investigation report, Wei Cuiyun’s name stood out clearly.
If Zhao Lingcheng told the truth, he could avoid a lot of trouble.
He had seen how she treated another man—before even marrying him, she was already willing to wash his dirty clothes.
But he also knew clearly that this had nothing to do with their marriage breaking down—because she had treated him the same way.
She would even volunteer to wash his feet, just to get her younger brother a belt.
He was a rigorous man. Even though telling the truth would earn him scolding, he still insisted on facts. “Her biggest problem is ignorance. She lacks the desire to learn and a sense of collective responsibility. Our personalities are incompatible.”
The old man immediately flew into a rage. “Bourgeois decadence! Corrupt thinking! Just like your father—naive, chasing that nonsense called love! Don’t even think about it. You’ll make it work—keep adjusting until your personalities match!”
He added, “Lingcheng, the situation is still severe. Don’t follow your father’s path and ruin yourself!”
The plane his mother had taken to the other side had been carrying intelligence agents—and it was his father who intercepted and shot it down.
Later, his father’s own plane crashed in the same airspace, at the same altitude and speed.
He had been careless. Distracted. And was shot down.
The old man had been part of the first generation of the air force. Just by looking at the parameters, he knew his son had truly loved a female spy.
That was the old man’s deepest pain—and his greatest shame.
But even if it was foolish, Zhao Lingcheng was like his father. He didn’t want to “adjust”—he wanted love.
Of course, he couldn’t say such “reactionary” thoughts out loud. He simply hung up the phone in silence.
The old man, however, was beaming with joy at the thought of welcoming a great-grandchild.
His brother-in-law, Old Jiang, brought him tea and asked with a smile, “You look happy—what’s the good news?”
Zhao Jun sighed with emotion. “I never imagined that someone who once begged for food would live to see four generations under one roof.”
Jiang Xia had already sent a telegram to her father, so Old Jiang knew about Chen Mianmian.
He had his own concern—his youngest daughter, Jiang Yao, was being harassed by hooligans and wanted to transfer to the base, but her political review was taking too long.
Seeing an opportunity, he said, “Jiang Xia is too busy, but Xiao Yao is free. Why don’t you make a call and let her go to the base early? She can help take care of Lingcheng’s wife during her confinement.”
That made sense. Zhao Lingcheng was so busy—who would care for his wife after childbirth?
The old man nodded. “Alright.”
Old Jiang thought his daughter would finally escape the harassment and was about to go home to share the good news.
But Zhao Jun suddenly changed his mind. “No. No need to trouble Xiao Yao.”
He added, “Let her follow the normal process. Lingcheng’s affairs should be handled by the couple themselves.”
Old Jiang said, “But the base can’t hire nannies. Who will take care of her?”
Zhao Jun waved his hand. “Don’t worry about them.”
Since he insisted, Old Jiang said nothing more and left quietly.
In truth, Zhao Jun was very shrewd. His granddaughter-in-law was an uneducated village woman. If a beautiful young woman were sent to take care of her and they lived under the same roof every day, wouldn’t that be even more dangerous than a female spy?
So he absolutely could not let Jiang Yao go early. Absolutely not.
He also planned to find an elder to inquire more about his granddaughter-in-law.
It was normal for rural women to be uneducated and simple-minded.
He knew Zhao Lingcheng’s nature well—intelligent, proud, and fond of romance. Life in the desert was already harsh. If his wife was dull and unrefined, it would indeed be a hardship for him.
…
The night before, Chen Mianmian had already returned the telegram to Ma Ji.
This morning, she went to the security office to send letters. Ma Ji thought she had come to ask about the telegram.
He smiled. “Sister-in-law, I personally delivered that telegram to Engineer Zhao at the unit.”
But Chen Mianmian handed him two unsealed envelopes. “I’m sending letters. Please check them.”
All family correspondence at the base had to be opened and inspected.
Ma Ji was surprised. “You wrote these yourself? You can write now?”
The original character had been illiterate, relying only on telegrams to communicate, which were expensive since they charged by the word.
Registered letters were slower but allowed unlimited writing.
Ma Ji pulled out the letter and praised sincerely, “Sister-in-law, your two years of ‘red-and-expert’ education weren’t wasted. This is well written.”
The letter was addressed to Director Yan at the steel factory, thanking him for taking care of her.
She also asked him to pay attention to Wu Jingjing’s work situation.
There were many spelling mistakes, and some words were written in pinyin, but it didn’t affect understanding.
In truth, Director Yan was illiterate, so she deliberately wrote it that way for him to understand.
Even when she used to translate English texts for him, she intentionally used homophones so he could follow along, making him think her translations were excellent.
But Ma Ji didn’t know that and assumed she was still barely literate.
The second letter was to Zhao Hui, reassuring her that she and the baby were doing well and that she didn’t need to worry.
After sealing the letters, Chen Mianmian asked, “Any letters for Lingcheng? I can take them home.”
It was the daily mail collection time. Letters had just arrived from the station, stacked neatly on the table.
Ma Ji pointed to a subordinate. “No need to inspect Zhao’s mail. Go find it.”
Chen Mianmian followed along, scanning each envelope as they searched.
When she spotted a letter from the Quancheng State Guesthouse, sent by Director Jiang, she picked it up. “This is Zhao’s, right?”
The guard checked the recipient. “No, sister-in-law. This is for Director Jiang from the canteen.”
She put it back. “My mistake.”
But she hadn’t been mistaken. That was exactly the letter she was looking for.
Lin Yan attempted suicide by lying on the railway tracks—because of pressure from the Xu brothers.
They wouldn’t target only Lin Yan. They couldn’t reach her at the base, but they could send letters to acquaintances, spreading rumors to ruin her reputation.
Looking for Zhao Lingcheng’s mail was just a cover—her real goal was Xu Xiaomei’s letter.
That letter sent to Jiang Xia was clearly written by Xu Xiaomei.
Of course, Chen Mianmian had no authority to intercept or confiscate others’ mail.
But if she could predict her opponent’s move in advance, she could prepare a counterattack.
Jiang Xia already disliked her. Once she received the letter, she would definitely spread rumors everywhere.
But since all letters had to be reviewed manually, it would take three days.
So—three days later.
She would deal with Jiang Xia’s gossiping once and for all.
…
There was something urgent—Chen Mianmian had to fix her reputation at the base.
In this era, that wasn’t too hard. She just needed to do a good deed or follow the example of Lei Feng.
But what should she do?
The kindergarten was next to the security office. As she walked past, lost in thought, she suddenly saw Shuai Shuai shove Miaomiao to the ground.
Unable to tolerate it, she shouted, “Teacher! Shuai Shuai is bullying someone again!”
A teacher came out, but Shuai Shuai spoke first. “Teacher, Miaomiao took my toy!”
Holding up a plastic bottle, he added, “She grabbed it first!”
One teacher explained to Chen Mianmian, “He only hit her because she took his toy.”
Miaomiao, held by another teacher, looked aggrieved. “I… I didn’t.”
Shuai Shuai shouted, “You did! You took it!”
It was a red plastic bottle with English labeling—quite rare for the time.
The teachers simply separated the children.
But soon enough, Shuai Shuai would bully Miaomiao again.
Today, however, fate seemed to be on Chen Mianmian’s side. She took a closer look and suddenly grabbed the bottle.
Shuai Shuai panicked. “My uncle gave that to me! Give it back!”
Chen Mianmian pointed at him. “Your uncle made a huge mistake and is about to be executed. And you still dare act arrogant?”
The teachers were shocked. “What’s going on?”
Ma Ji also arrived, assuming she was causing trouble again. “You’re pregnant—don’t get worked up. Shuai Shuai’s father was a martyr. He’s a pitiful child. Be kinder to him.”
But Chen Mianmian ignored that and held up the bottle. “Jiang De works at the farm, right? Was he spraying pesticides today?”
Ma Ji nodded.
She said, “He used the wrong chemical. All the vegetables will die.”
Ma Ji smelled the faint pesticide odor in the air and shouted, “Stop the farm work immediately!”
Then asked, “How do you know?”
Shuai Shuai chimed in, “My uncle washed that bottle clean before giving it to me!”
Ma Ji understood—she recognized the issue from the bottle.
But looking at the English label, he hesitated. “Is it really that serious?”
“It is,” she said. “We might not have fresh vegetables for another two months.”
The teachers gasped. “Why?”
In the northwest, fresh vegetables were only available starting in May.
A two-month delay meant July.
For people used to southern diets, half a year without fresh vegetables was unbearable.
Jiang De soon arrived, still carrying his sprayer. “What’s wrong?”
Chen Mianmian held up the bottle. “Do you even know what this pesticide is?”
He misunderstood and pulled out a notebook. “This is imported from Cuba—here’s the translated manual.”
The others nodded.
The kindergarten director, Huang Lin, arrived and joked, “Planning to start a revolution here?”
This time, Chen Mianmian didn’t hold back. “Your children are playing with pesticide bottles. They could be poisoned, and you’re joking?”
Huang Lin choked. “You can read English?”
Perfect timing.
“I’m a trained ‘red-and-expert’ student. To defeat the enemy, we must understand them. I learned English for the people.”
Then she pointed to the label. “Weed killer. It kills weeds. And you sprayed it on vegetables?”
Jiang De flipped through his notebook. “No, it’s insecticide.”
A guard arrived with a dictionary. “Killer means kill… weed… weeds! Damn, it’s weed killer!”
Jiang De collapsed. “My vegetables…”
Chen Mianmian shouted, “Dump the chemical and rinse the crops now!”
Soon, people rushed off to fix the damage.
Afterward, she used the moment to change Miaomiao’s reputation.
She knelt down, lifted the girl’s hand, and announced, “Today, Miaomiao is a hero. She stopped a disaster and saved the vegetables.”
The children stared in awe.
Huang Lin added, “She will receive a reward.”
Shuai Shuai protested, but eventually admitted he lied.
He was punished, along with another child who had bullied Miaomiao.
Finally, Chen Mianmian told the girl, “If someone bullies you, speak up. We all care about you.”
Miaomiao nodded confidently.
As Chen Mianmian left, Ma Ji smiled. “You’re actually good with kids.”
They weren’t incapable—they were just biased.
And that bias had allowed Miaomiao to be bullied all along.
Chen Mianmian had dealt with naughty kids more than once. She said, “Since you think I understand education, then from now on I’ll take charge of Zhanzhan and Shuai Shuai. I guarantee they won’t hit girls again.”
Ma Ji felt that Chen Mianmian had become even harder to provoke than before.
Leaving that aside, he asked, “Weed—you know what that English word means, right?”
Chen Mianmian replied, “Didn’t you just say it? W-E-E-D, weed—means weeds.”
Ma Ji, like Huang Lin, found it hard to believe. “At that Hongzhuan School, you really learned something?”
English had always been a core subject, and it was necessary to study it. But during the political movements, it was said that students at Hongzhuan Schools used foreign language textbooks as toilet paper. Yet Chen Mianmian had actually studied?
She said, “I’m a top student. I’m also very good at Russian.”
As they walked past a trash bin, there happened to be a torn woven sack with Russian writing on it.