“No.” The train conductor’s voice was icy.
The stop was too short. If they didn’t get off in time and something happened, he’d be held responsible.
Rejected, the family panicked like ants on a hot stove.
“We already took the betrothal money! If she’s gone, what are we supposed to do?” Zhou Chuanfang felt like the sky was falling. She hated Jiang Lai to the bone.
Jiang Lai had run away without a care, leaving them with a mess.
The Liu family had made it clear: if Jiang Lai couldn’t be found, then Bao’er would take her place.
Impossible.
Her precious Bao’er marry a man who was… incapable? Spend her whole life like a widow, alone until death?
“Bao’er, go with me!” Jiang Bao’er reacted quickly, grabbing her fifth brother and pushing forward with the crowd.
She was small enough to squeeze through, but Jiang Jizong was yanked back by the conductor.
“Don’t worry about me, Sis. Just go find Jiang Lai!” Jiang Jizong twisted around to block the conductor, surprisingly loyal.
One person from the Jiang family searched on the train, while three surrounded the platform.
Pairs of eyes watched every passing passenger.
Jiang Lai quickly calmed herself, watching the clock and preparing to board at the last possible moment.
Seconds ticked by. The conductor blew his whistle and shouted through a loudspeaker: “The train is about to depart! Any remaining passengers, board now!”
Jiang Lai tightened her headscarf, lowered her gaze, and walked forward.
There were few people left on the platform. The moment she moved, she felt eyes fall on her.
Zhou Chuanfang frowned. That girl’s height and figure… she looked exactly like Jiang Lai.
But Jiang Lai had always been vain and spoiled, refusing to wear anything but the finest fabric. Even in the winter cold, when everyone else bundled up layer after layer, she insisted on a fitted coat to show off her waist.
So this patched-up, soot-streaked girl couldn’t possibly be her.
Still, Zhou Chuanfang stared without blinking.
As they were about to pass each other, a tall figure strode ahead. Broad shoulders, a straight back, long legs in olive military trousers—each step swallowed three of hers.
A soldier, most likely.
And he was alone.
Jiang Lai exhaled, stepped up quickly, grabbed his hand, and said in a Henan dialect, “Ayy, the train’s about to go! How come you’re so slow?”
Her college roommate in her previous life had been from Henan; she easily picked up the dialect’s essence—those little particles of speech.
Qi Huaiye was about to board when he felt a soft, delicate hand seize his.
He looked down.
A pair of clear apricot eyes stared up at him, pleading.
It was her.
It was him.
Both of them froze.
This soldier was handsome, but the aura around him was terrifyingly sharp. Jiang Lai’s heart pounded as she held his warm hand. With her lips barely moving, she mouthed: Help me.
Qi Huaiye’s gaze dropped to her pale lips; his eyes grew darker. He allowed her to pull him forward.
A woman by the carriage door peered around nervously—likely the person Jiang Lai was hiding from. Qi Huaiye lifted his eyes.
He had spent the past few years on the front lines; his hands had been steeped in blood and fire. His aura was lethal.
“Hiss—!”
At one glance, Zhou Chuanfang gasped and recoiled, startled.
That presence…
Jiang Lai slipped past her and boarded safely.
The train doors slammed shut behind them.
Jiang Lai’s palms were slick with sweat. She released his hand and said apologetically, “Sorry, the woman guarding the door is my stepmother. She wants to drag me home to get married. I refused, so… this was all I could think of.”
Qi Huaiye nodded—he understood. He didn’t speak.
He studied the petite girl again.
She was a bit silly, maybe, but she knew how to disguise herself—smearing her face yellow, confusing her stepmother.
For self-protection, a girl using a bit of cunning wasn’t wrong.
Silence settled between them.
He was tall—at least 1.88 meters—imposing, the air around him suffocating. Standing next to a man like this, Jiang Lai’s breaths came shallow.
She hesitated, then dug out two pieces of White Rabbit milk candy and pressed them into his hand. “Thanks… for earlier.”
Their fingers brushed again.
Boom.
Her cheeks flushed hot. Before he could respond, she hurried into the crowded carriage.
The hard-seat car was so full even the aisles were packed. Some people curled up on newspapers beneath the seats to sleep.
Kids were crying, adults chatting loudly; the air was thick and unpleasant.
The scene hit Jiang Lai hard.
She had expected hardship, but actually being here made her realize how naïve she’d been.
Even finding her seat was a battle.
But she didn’t back down.
The conditions in the Northeast in the seventies would be worse than this. If she couldn’t endure even this, she might as well go home and get married.
“Comrade, please move a bit. Thank you.”
“Whose luggage is this? It’s in the way.”
Following the number on her ticket, she finally found her seat by the window in a two-person row.
She sat down, breathed deeply, and steadied herself before looking around.
Next to her was an auntie; across from her, a young couple with a child. They all looked kind enough.
The whistle blew twice. The train lurched forward.
Jiang Lai cracked the window for fresh air. Zhou Chuanfang’s shrill voice carried in from outside:
“My Bao’er is still on the train! Stop the train! Where are you taking her? This is kidnapping! You’re trafficking women—!”
Bao’er didn’t get off?
In this era, you needed an introduction letter to travel; otherwise, you could be taken for a criminal. Best case, a warning. Worst case, sent to a labor farm.
Jiang Lai felt no sympathy.
Bao’er had boarded only to drag her home for marriage.
Sure enough, before long, a uniformed railway officer began checking tickets, a thick blue ledger in his hands.
He reached her row.
“Name? Destination? Purpose of travel?”
Jiang Lai took out her ticket and introduction letter. “My name is Jiang Lai. I’m going to the military garrison in Shenzhou City to be matched for marriage.”
He checked the documents and asked casually, “Northeast garrison is harsh. You’re a southern girl—can you handle it?”
“Yes!” Jiang Lai answered righteously, full of determined patriotism. “Soldiers guard our country’s gates. Red-hearted military wives hold down the rear. It’s all for building our socialist New China. No matter how hard it is, I’m not afraid.”
Passengers nearby shot her looks of admiration. In this era, ordinary people held soldiers in the highest esteem.