First, about Chen Mianmian.
When news of suspected espionage activity came in, the Security Section—led by Ma Ji—arrived immediately.
That letter also had to be personally reviewed by him.
After skimming it, he immediately apologized to Chen Mianmian.
It was an ordinary letter, sent in the name of Director Jiang from the guesthouse. It even began with Director Jiang’s name, stating that he had heard from Xu Xiaomei that her sister-in-law, after divorcing, had gone on a blind date, and the man was the director of the Iron Pipe Institute.
This wasn’t really a rumor, because what Director Jiang stated was true.
Xu Xiaomei didn’t dare go too far—she only spread the news about the blind date.
When the Security Section reviewed the letter, they didn’t find any issues, which was why it was handed over to Jiang Xia.
Besides, the truth would come out sooner or later. Chen Mianmian’s blind date with Wei Cuiyun would eventually become known to people at the base.
Ma Ji went specifically to the coarse grains section and said, “Jiang Xia will definitely have to undergo investigation and criticism. As for the guesthouse, we’ll also send a formal request asking the municipal Public Security Bureau to thoroughly investigate Director Jiang and Xu Xiaomei, including their motives for writing the letter.”
After a pause, he added, “We’ll be more careful when reviewing letters in the future, but you should also be mentally prepared. After all… your life is between you and Engineer Zhao. As long as you two don’t care about gossip, just let people talk.”
Chen Mianmian asked instead, “Since this involves espionage, how will you handle Aunt Jiang?”
Ma Ji replied, “Honestly, she brought this on herself. She was among the first group to arrive at the base, and her husband even died in service. Because she cooks well, Commissar Qi specially applied to keep her here. But judging by this, it seems she doesn’t want to stay anymore.”
The first group at the base had it the hardest—no food, no supplies, yet they still had to complete missions.
Most of their family members even developed illnesses from the cold. It was a pity—Jiang Xia just loved to gossip too much, and now she was facing the consequences.
Chen Mianmian felt sorry as well. She liked the steamed split-top buns Jiang Xia made, and only wanted to teach her a lesson—not have her sent away for labor reform or anything like that.
So she said, “Aunt Jiang probably didn’t mean any harm. Please handle it with discretion—don’t be too harsh.”
Ma Ji nodded, then added, “In a small unit like ours, the families are proud and sensitive—they don’t tolerate the slightest slight. If people say things in the future, just pretend you didn’t hear. Sometimes it’s better to play dumb.”
As for her blind date after the divorce, it was true that it would eventually become known—and people would laugh about it.
But Chen Mianmian had once been an elite lawyer, skilled at manipulating public opinion. Did they really think she’d let others gossip about her freely?
The shop had been cleared of other customers—only the sales clerks remained.
In this era, they were the most effective channels for spreading gossip. So Chen Mianmian simply spoke openly: “Section Chief Ma already knows—my younger brother tried to force me into a divorce and even wanted to sell me to an old man. He’s already been detained by the police.”
Ma Ji had read the file and nodded. “I know.”
Chen Mianmian continued, “You also know I was rescued by the police and avoided being sold to a bald, pot-bellied old man.”
Ma Ji nodded again, though something felt off—because in his view, Wei Cuiyun wasn’t exactly an old man.
But women didn’t necessarily see men the same way men did. And the case file clearly stated that Chen Jinhui had forced her into the blind date, even involving binding and beating. So he nodded again. “That’s right.”
Chen Mianmian glanced at the sales clerks, who were all listening intently, then her eyes reddened.
Everyone looked at her with sympathy. Xiao Jia even said, “Sister-in-law, what have you been through?”
Women were naturally more empathetic than men, and more trustworthy.
Since the blind date would spread sooner or later, it was better to take control of the narrative herself.
With tears in her eyes, Chen Mianmian said, “It’s okay. It’s all in the past now.”
As expected, she gained a wave of sympathy, and news of the blind date spread in a completely different way.
Was she the one who willingly went on the blind date? No—she was forced.
And the man? Bald, pot-bellied, an old man. Who would dare laugh at her now?
Even without Jiang Xia’s military family certificate, it didn’t matter—out of sympathy, the sales clerks all competed to let her use theirs.
After seeing the security officers off, Xiao Jia said, “Just tell me what you want to buy—use my certificate.”
Chen Mianmian picked up a handful of oats. “This—can I buy fifty jin?”
Xiao Jia looked troubled. “Each household only gets five jin every three months. There’s no more than that.”
Because Chen Mianmian had helped Miaomiao, Xue Fang wanted to return the favor and had also come to the shop. Smiling, she said, “Xiao Chen, take whatever you want. Whether it needs coupons or quotas, put it all under my name.”
Chen Mianmian immediately thought of a solution. “Xue Fang, help me ask Sun Bingyu and the other families—whoever wants dried meat or hides can trade their oat quota with me. My belly’s too big to run around, so please help me ask.”
Xue Fang readily agreed. “No problem. No one here eats oats anyway.”
But she was curious. “Why do you want so much oats? How are you planning to eat it?”
To explain oats, one had to mention Lin Yan.
He had once been a Nationalist soldier who fought the Japanese in close combat, rising through brutal battles to become an officer.
Later, when the Nationalists and Communists split again, he turned his gun around and drove the Nationalist forces away.
He had never engaged in espionage, yet for some reason he was labeled a spy and sent for labor reform.
The militia—also called supervisory cadres, like Xu Cigang—didn’t dare kill people outright.
But food in the labor camps was scarce, and prisoners often fought over it.
As both a former Nationalist and an alleged spy, Lin Yan was at the very bottom of the prisoners’ hierarchy.
Most of the time, he couldn’t get any food at all, hovering on the brink of starvation. The supervisors only needed to hint to a few prisoners, and in order to curry favor, they would force him toward suicide.
Among all coarse grains, oats were the most nutritious, tastiest, and easiest to disguise.
Chen Mianmian planned to send them to Lin Yan—but of course she couldn’t say that.
She looked at the clerks and said, “You know sweet fermented grains, right? That’s made from this. Oh right—do you have fermentation starter? I need that too.”
Xiao Jia said, “I’ve heard of it, but never tried it. You really know how to make it?”
Chen Mianmian smiled. “I’ll take more oats and experiment. If it works, I’ll teach you all how to make it.”
The clerks exchanged glances and said in unison, “We’ll pool our quotas for you.”
The shop only had twenty jin of oats. With quotas from four people combined, Chen Mianmian took all of it at once.
Next, she needed to buy other things. Xue Fang took out a coupon. “I’ll get a piece of clothing.”
Xiao Jia searched behind the counter and brought out a corduroy batwing shirt. “This one, right? Special supply for cadres’ families.”
Clothing was rationed too—corduroy was only available to cadres’ families.
Xue Fang handed it to Chen Mianmian. “This is for you. It’s loose—perfect for covering your belly.”
With her pregnancy, a batwing shirt was indeed ideal. Chen Mianmian accepted it without hesitation.
She also bought two pairs of loose underwear, along with baby diapers, and packed everything together.
After returning home, she first steamed a small batch of sweet fermented grains. The rest of the oats she didn’t wash—instead, she lit the coal stove and roasted them all.
Then she opened the room where the dried meat was stored, took out half a basket of kaolin clay from the kang pit, and mixed it in.
While she was busy, someone knocked on the door. It was an orderly. “Hello, sister-in-law!”
He added, “Please go to the hospital at 2:30 this afternoon. Engineer Zhao will be waiting for you there.”
Sun Bingyu didn’t know what Chen Mianmian was doing, but came out when she heard voices.
Smiling, she said, “Looks like Engineer Zhao finally has time to accompany you to the hospital.”
Seeing Chen Mianmian’s hands covered in clay, she asked, “Are you pickling dried meat again?”
After losing one brother, Xu Xiaomei should have stopped—but she didn’t. She kept targeting Chen Mianmian and Lin Yan.
Chen Mianmian was forced into this, but every time Xu Xiaomei made a move, she would make her lose another brother.
Of course, she couldn’t tell Sun Bingyu that. So she said, “Yes, just preparing dried meat.”
Sun Bingyu laughed. “Make more—Ma Ji loves it.”
She had heard about Jiang Xia being taken away and asked, “What exactly happened with Sister Jiang?”
Chen Mianmian was still busy and closed the door. “We’ll talk another day.”
At the same time, Zhao Lingcheng had changed into a brand-new military uniform and was at the train station with Zhao Hui.
Zhao Hui held his hand and examined it. Seeing the pale, swollen blisters, she asked worriedly, “I heard you were doing testing. Look at your hands—blisters everywhere from operating the equipment. Why didn’t you put some medicine on them?”
Their enemy was reconnaissance aircraft flying at 20,000 meters.
They had to detect the brief moment those aircraft exposed themselves—only a few seconds.
Within those seconds, they had to shoot them down. One could imagine how difficult the task was.
Busy as ever, Zhao Lingcheng handed her a travel bag. “Take this to Lin Yan—and say goodbye for me.”
Zhao Hui looked inside—biscuits and canned meat. “These things won’t save his life.”
She added, “I’m the one who wronged him.”
If she had let Xu Cigang escape that day, Lin Yan wouldn’t have been pushed toward suicide.
But she chose to reveal the truth of the drowning case—and in doing so, gave up on Lin Yan.
Zhao Lingcheng gave a faint smile. “Death might be a release for him. He’s probably grateful to you.”
Zhao Hui shook her head. “I know him best. He’s not a spy.”
Zhao Lingcheng still smiled faintly. “Even your father suspects him—and even me, doesn’t he?”
Her father was Zhao Jun, Zhao Lingcheng’s grandfather—a man who hated evil.
He didn’t defend Lin Yan, letting him be labeled a spy, and even suspected Zhao Lingcheng because of his background.
Zhao Hui sighed. “I’m sorry, Lingcheng.”
His voice turned hoarse. “What does it have to do with you? The fault lies with the times—not with you.”
In such a sensitive era, the fate of ordinary people was tied to the international situation.
After liberation, the United States had planned nuclear strikes on dozens of cities in the mainland—until the first atomic bomb was detonated.
But the crisis didn’t end there. There were many threats.
Recently, the Soviets had suddenly turned hostile, and war could break out at any time.
Some who thought themselves clever began secretly contacting the other side, becoming spies.
Meanwhile, the other side was lobbying internationally, pushing for a full-scale counterattack, sending reconnaissance planes repeatedly over the northwest.
Not just Lin Yan—many surrendered Nationalist officers were labeled spies and sent to the northwest.
And their ultimate fate was usually the same: death.
Zhao Hui asked again, “Aren’t you going to see him one last time?”
Zhao Lingcheng said decisively, “No. There’s no need.”
Zhao Hui patted his shoulder. “Don’t be too sad about your uncle. Think about your father—and your four uncles who died. How would they want us to live? Happily, safely.”
Seeing him silent, she added, “They’re all watching you from above—especially my eldest brother.”
Zhao Hui had five brothers. The eldest was the most handsome, nicknamed “the handsome one.”
He was so charming he even captivated a female intelligence agent—Zhao Lingcheng’s mother.
Even more remarkably, he later persuaded his brother-in-law Lin Yan to join their side.
Zhao Lingcheng’s looks combined the best of both parents—sharp brows, deep-set eyes, thin lips—giving him a somewhat cold appearance.
But aside from emotional matters, he was responsible and intelligent at work.
Just a bit sharp-tongued.
As the train arrived, he said, “You’re not even married—what right do you have to lecture me?”
Zhao Hui shook his arm. “Let the doctor check Mianmian properly, then remarry her.”
As he walked away, she added, “She’s carrying our next generation. Treat her well.”
Boarding the train, she held the travel bag tightly.
Lin Yan was currently in detention, which was actually better—no beatings, and he got food.
But once he returned to the labor camp, he wouldn’t escape the Xu brothers.
Zhao Hui had joined the army after liberation and was only a friend of Lin Yan. Now she was going to see him one last time.
How should she say goodbye? She felt deeply sorrowful.
But thinking of the child about to be born, she felt some comfort.
The Zhao family would soon have a new generation—the one her brothers had hoped for.
After their generation had endured all the suffering, perhaps the next would live in peace and happiness.
…
Zhao Lingcheng hurried to the hospital, arriving at 2:30 to see his future child.
Not finding his ex-wife, he assumed she hadn’t arrived and went to register.
But the nurse stopped him with a question:
“Comrade, what’s the pregnant woman’s name? Her age? Her birthday?”
He didn’t know his ex-wife’s age or birthday. Just as he stood there stunned, someone called, “Chief Engineer Zhao?”
He turned—it was a smiling female doctor. “Looking for your wife? She’s already upstairs, in the gynecology clinic.”
“Thank you!” he said, turning to go.
The doctor followed him upstairs. “Do you still need vitamins? I have some in stock.”
Since Zhao Lingcheng couldn’t get used to coarse grains and relied on special bread rations, he needed vitamins to balance his nutrition.
But vitamins were often out of stock, so doctors had to reserve them for him.
Walking quickly, he replied briefly, “Yes. Thank you.”
At the top of the stairs, he was about to turn when the doctor stopped him. “Let me introduce myself again—I’m Dr. Zeng…”
Dressed in white, standing beside a young officer in green uniform, the two made quite a striking pair.
Passersby couldn’t help but glance at them.
The doctor thought he didn’t recognize her and wanted to repeat her request.
But Zhao Lingcheng said, “Dr. Zeng, military doctors need not only medical skill, but also survival experience. Sandstorms and rattlesnakes are more dangerous than enemy planes. I suggest you stay here.”
She straightened. “I trained in Ulan Buh—the desert and sky blending together, it was beautiful. Give me a slot—I can do it. If you don’t believe me, ask my father…”
He nodded. “Deserts are beautiful—when the weather is calm.”
Then he turned to leave. “I don’t know your father. And no matter who he is, it won’t change anything. Goodbye.”
Turning the corner, he saw his ex-wife enter Dr. Gu’s office, her belly prominent.
He wanted to follow, but stopped.
He was actually a bit afraid of her—her precise marksmanship, her fierceness in hunting.
Now she also had the reputation of a model citizen and top student. He didn’t fully understand her yet, so he held back.
Inside the clinic, Dr. Gu washed her hands and smiled. “No more injuries to your belly, right?”
When she first came, her abdomen had been covered in bruises. Zhao Hui had cried at the sight.
Dr. Gu didn’t know what she had been through and didn’t dare ask—but she sympathized.
Chen Mianmian smiled. “The bruises are slow to fade, but much lighter now.”
Dr. Gu nodded. “Lift your shirt, let me take a look.”
Chen Mianmian did so. “I feel like my belly has grown.”
Doctors didn’t rely on feelings. Dr. Gu measured it and nodded. “It has grown quite quickly.”
Chen Mianmian said, “I’ve been eating meat every day to nourish the baby.”
Dr. Gu exclaimed, “The baby moved! That’s a little foot—quite strong too, kicking me!”
It was early, and the hallway was empty. Zhao Lingcheng quietly peeked in.
He didn’t believe it—but he was curious.
He saw his wife sitting, lifting her shirt, one hand supporting her belly.
It was his first time seeing a pregnant belly—it was different from what he imagined.
Her belly curved upward, perfectly round—like a full moon.
She looked down at it with a soft smile.
Sunlight streamed in, outlining her figure—warm and gentle.
A phrase flashed in his mind: the glow of motherhood.
For the first time, he found a pregnant belly… rather endearing.
That was the baby’s home. What position was the baby in?
He had read books and knew the baby was in breech position.
But would it really be a girl? Would a girl be willing to be born into his family?
As he craned his neck, he gradually felt something wasn’t quite right about her belly.
…
After measuring, Dr. Gu recorded the data. “Now is the time to boost nutrition, but be careful. Near delivery, don’t overeat, or the skin will stretch too much and cause stretch marks.”
Chen Mianmian grew anxious. “Doctor, please check—do I have stretch marks already?”
“And is there any medicine for it? Prescribe me some.”
There wasn’t any effective treatment for stretch marks—not now, not even in the future.
But Dr. Gu said, “We don’t have almond cream here, but you can apply some—it’s very moisturizing.”
“Lie down—I need to do an internal exam.”
Chen Mianmian had never heard of almond cream, but she definitely wanted to buy some—she didn’t want stretch marks.
She lay down and was about to ask where she could buy it, but suddenly cried out, “It hurts—ah, it hurts!”
Unlike many doctors who would scold patients for being too sensitive, Dr. Gu coaxed her gently, “It’s not painful, not painful—it’ll be over soon.”
In those days without ultrasound, the only way was a manual examination of the placenta—and it felt like torture.
While examining her, Dr. Gu suddenly turned her head. “Who’s there? Get out!”