Liang Xin and Lu Zewei went downstairs one after another.
Lu Zewei looked at the uncle with his honest smile. “Uncle Qi, why are you alone? Didn’t Da Zhuang, Er Zhuang, San Zhuang, and Si Zhuang come with you?”
“This year the Production Team slaughtered pigs early. Someone from the neighboring commune drove a tractor into the city, so I quickly hitched a ride to bring you the pork and chickens.” Uncle Qi lifted a piece of meat tied with straw. “Chongfeng, I heard you were sick, so I specially got you some mutton from the countryside. It’s getting cold in winter, perfect for you and the bride to nourish yourselves.”
“Uncle Qi.”
Liang Xin followed suit in greeting him, looking at the two large basins of meat inside and out, and realizing it was Laba Festival today—time to pickle chickens and make preserved meat.
Uncle Qi: “Ah, good, so pretty. Chongfeng is blessed.”
“Old Qi, stop fussing. The tangyuan are cooked, and I’ve fried you a plate of egg fried rice with a side of freshly braised pig’s head meat from the service cooperative. I’ve also got garlic cloves ready for you. Come eat quickly.”
Hu Fenglian hurried out from the kitchen, carrying several packages of pastries—honey triple slices, twist pastries, sesame cakes, fried dough twists—along with two boxes of honey sugar cakes and sesame paste fried cakes. Then she brought out paper-wrapped packages of white sugar, brown sugar, and rock sugar from the kitchen.
“Thank goodness you sent some pork this year. This morning, the Military Region Logistics Department also brought a truckload of pork from the Meatpacking Plant. Each household in the West Yard only got five jin. I managed to get twenty extra jin, and was thinking we couldn’t make sausages this year, but then you brought another twenty jin of pork.”
Uncle Qi smiled: “I knew Eldest Sister-in-law always pickles meat on Laba Festival, so I rushed over. I never made it in previous years.”
“Take these pastries back for the New Year. I prepared two bags of white flour long ago. I’ll have Xiao Wei help carry them to the tractor later.”
Hu Fenglian hurried to the room and soon came out holding a stack of blue, gray, and red cotton fabric. “Pack these too. Decide how to distribute them when you get back. I’ve put five jin of assorted candies in the bag—Zongzi candy, milk candy, coconut candy, sorghum candy, orange candy, all kinds. Since Chongfeng didn’t hold a wedding banquet, take these wedding candies back for everyone to share.”
Liang Xin watched as Uncle Qi repeatedly said “Ah” without any refusal, then went to eat.
Both sides seemed accustomed to this mutual gift-giving.
Lu Zewei opened the tea caddy, put a pinch of tea leaves in Liang Xin’s enamel teacup, added hot water, and handed it to her. He walked to the dining table, pulled out a chair and sat down.
“Uncle Qi, does your Production Team have quotas for raising pigs?”
“What quotas for raising pigs? As long as you have money to buy breeding pigs, you can raise as many as you want.”
Lu Zewei looked at the chickens waiting to be slaughtered in the backyard. “What about quotas for raising chickens?”
“This year each household isn’t allowed to raise more chickens than the number of people. The brigade proactively let me catch two to bring for you to eat.” Uncle Qi picked up the egg fried rice, quickly shoveling it into his mouth with chopsticks. “Chongfeng, why are you suddenly asking about this?”
Lu Zewei looked at Liang Xin. “Concerned about you.”
“Good, good, concerned about me. I’m happy, very happy.”
Uncle Qi opened the bottle of Jiangjing Daqu, poured himself a cup of baijiu, and happily ate with alternating bites of liquor, meat, and rice.
Liang Xin carried her teacup to the backyard to find her mother-in-law.
“Mom, when do we start pickling the meat?”
“No need for you to bother. You two go rest.”
“I’m not busy, Chongfeng is the busy one.”
Lu Chongfeng: “……”
“He wouldn’t know how to handle this.” Hu Fenglian found the coarse salt and thought for a moment, “Liang Xin likes spicy food. This year I’ll fry some Sichuan peppercorns with salt to marinate some peppercorn-flavored salted chicken and meat. By the way, you all shouldn’t go upstairs either, Chongfeng!”
Hu Fenglian walked back to the living room and looked at Lu Zewei by the dining table: “Two cadres are returning to the city today – an old doctor from the military general hospital and the former director of the traditional Chinese medicine hospital. They’re specially coming to see your father and also check on your condition.”
Lu Chongfeng, whose illness hadn’t been diagnosed by many doctors, showed no particular reaction.
He probably understood the reason himself and already knew the cure.
After Uncle Qi finished eating and left with his bags to catch the returning tractor, the two senior cadres arrived. After personally asking Lu Zewei about his symptoms, their first words immediately got a reaction from him.
“Neurasthenia.”
The old doctor from the general hospital wore tortoiseshell glasses, his face weathered. “After World War II, many soldiers developed war aftermath syndromes, including war neurasthenia. It’s an illness caused by long-term stress reaching the breaking point.”
“War aftermath syndrome?” Chief Lu shook his head. “His last time on the battlefield was six years ago.”
“A battlefield without gun smoke is still a war.” The old doctor from the general hospital adjusted his glasses, speaking without any caution. “The human body has limited capacity for stress. When subjected to sufficient pressure that continues persistently, the central nervous system collapses. This was proven in many people ten years ago.”
Chief Lu sat up straight, glanced around, and cleared his throat lightly.
Liang Xin lowered her head, hands covering her teacup, showing no surprise on her face.
Hu Fenglian didn’t understand. “Then how should this illness be treated?”
“With symptoms like involuntary full-body tremors, neuralgic headaches, and neuralgic heart pain, following the usual progression, it should lead to mobility difficulties and schizophrenia.”
The old doctor from the general hospital looked at Lu Chongfeng, who was watching his new bride. “You’re a madman.”
Lu Chongfeng was stunned.
How could he be called mad again!
It was one thing when others said it, but this was a highly respected old doctor!
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve seen the toughest people – under such long-term, intense, and painful mental stress, they would mentally collapse and become hysterical within two months.” The old doctor’s eyes showed no obvious emotion. “I heard it’s been nearly half a year since your first episode. If you’re not mad, then what are you?”
Lu Zewei: “……”
He glanced at Liang Xin.
“The old gentleman certainly has a unique way of giving compliments.”
Liang Xin thought of the original story, Wei Yuanyang’s powerful backer’s family.
All their children had passed away.
Lu Chongfeng must have died this way.
Smile lines appeared on the old doctor’s face. “Since your condition hasn’t continued to deteriorate, it means you’ve entered a good mental environment. You no longer need to struggle between surrendering to or overcoming your will and thoughts. Ask Elder Li to prescribe some traditional Chinese medicine for you. Maintain this good environment and slowly recuperate.”
The entire Lu family breathed a sigh of relief.
Chief Lu immediately looked at Liang Xin.
Hu Fenglian grabbed Liang Xin’s hand, holding it tightly until it trembled, tears of joy streaming from her eyes.
Lu Zewei already understood in his heart, and his reaction was surprisingly mild, with only a slight curve forming at the corner of his lips.
The old dean of the traditional Chinese medicine hospital took Lu Zewei’s pulse and closely observed his complexion and tongue coating. “Excessive heart fire has scorched the meridians, emotional distress has caused qi stagnation, the complexion lacks luster, and heart blood is deficient. Start with two doses of Guipi Tang and Bazhen Tang to replenish qi and blood, strengthen the spleen, and nourish the heart.”
Liang Xin handed over a sheet of paper and a pen.
The old dean wrote down the ingredients for the Guipi Tang prescription, along with the decoction method and precautions.
“The heart is deprived of nourishment, and recovery will take time. Avoid overthinking and mental strain, which depletes heart yin, and refrain from excessive exercise. Take more leisurely walks and minimize activity to nurture the heart.”
Liang Xin suddenly smiled.
The curve at Lu Zewei’s lips instantly vanished.
“When I was well, during drills, I could run three laps while others only managed one.”
The old dean asked, “And at night, drenched in sweat, you continued battling illness?”
Lu Zewei: “…”
The old dean said, “Rest quietly.”
Liang Xin followed her mother-in-law to see the two elderly doctors off, then walked back to the living room with noticeably lighter steps.
“See!” Hu Fenglian planted her hands on her hips, looking proudly at Chief Lu. “If I hadn’t taken timely, independent action to bring Liang Xin into our family, who knows what state our son would be in now!”
Chief Lu remained silent, glancing at Lu Chongfeng. “Follow the doctor’s orders, rest well, and temporarily set aside matters that aren’t your concern.”
Lu Zewei retorted, “Then why did you name me Chongfeng (Charge)? Why not name me Fangxia (Let Go)?”
Chief Lu glared. “You…”
“Lu Fangxia, time to pickle the meat.”
“…”
The whole family stared in astonishment at Liang Xin, who had abruptly cut off Chief Lu.
Liang Xin picked up her sleeve protectors and turned to look at the three increasingly stunned faces. “What constitutes a good environment for mental recuperation?”
“…Taking responsibility for shared household chores, like cooking, cleaning, washing, and wiping.” Lu Zewei stepped forward and took the sleeve protectors from Liang Xin. “Pickling meat.”
Hu Fenglian suddenly burst into a fit of laughter.
Even Chief Lu’s stern face broke into a few smile lines.
In the Lu family kitchen, the large iron pot and steel pot were both filled with boiling water.
As boiling water was poured over the already bled chicken, Liang Xin kept busy, plucking feathers alongside her mother-in-law and Lu Yueji, who was home on break.
The scalded chicken’s feathers came out easily—a gentle tug pulled them cleanly from the pores, leaving the skin smooth and imparting an oddly satisfying sense of accomplishment.
“Second Sister-in-law, do you know how to play shuttlecock?”
Lu Yueji picked out a few beautiful feathers from the rooster’s tail—vibrant black and red, shimmering in the sunlight. “I’ll go to the hardware store to buy a couple of metal washers. Let’s sew a feather shuttlecock to play with!”
Liang Xin handed her two more pretty feathers. “Go ahead and buy them. Once you’re back, have your Second Brother sew it.”
Lu Zewei, who was diligently scaling a fish, slowly looked up at the feathers, then lowered his head and resumed scraping the scales with vigorous strokes.
“Second Brother is even more skilled than me now—he can even sew quilts.”
Lu Yueji set aside the feathers for the shuttlecock and grabbed the last rooster from the aluminum basin to pluck. “Second Sister-in-law, Wei Yuanyang is at home.”
Lu Chongfeng abruptly looked up, holding the fish-scaling knife. “What’s he here for?”
Lu Yueji quietly took two steps back. “I don’t know. He came to see Dad and is in his study.”
Liang Xin placed the plucked chicken into the large aluminum basin and stood up, wanting to rub her sore back but resisted upon smelling the pungent odor on her hands. She walked to the wall and washed her hands with soap.
“Yueji, shall we brew a pot of tea?”
Lu Zewei set down the knife, walked over to Liang Xin, picked up the soap she had just used, and slowly lathered it over his palms, the backs of his hands, and each finger, meticulously scrubbing to remove the fishy smell.
He suddenly noticed Liang Xin standing nearby, head lowered as she watched his hands.
Lu Zewei slowed his movements, interlacing his fingers to work up a lather.
“Second Sister-in-law, what kind of tea would you like?”
Liang Xin averted her gaze. “Green tea.”
“I’ll brew it.”
As Lu Chongfeng passed by Liang Xin, his arm lightly brushed against her shoulder before he entered the reception room.
Soon, he returned carrying a lounge chair in his left hand and an enamel tray in his right, placing them beside the old wooden table in the courtyard.
Lu Yueji stared in amazement at Lu Chongfeng’s attentiveness. “Second Brother, where’s my chair?”
Lu Chongfeng: “Don’t you have hands?”
Lu Yueji: “……”
Liang Xin settled into the lounge chair, her back conforming to its curved support. Gazing at the sun in the sky, she narrowed her eyes contentedly.
Lu Chongfeng quickly returned with a stack of newspapers, several books, and an array of snacks: honey-glazed pastries, sesame cakes, sunflower seeds, orchid beans, honey sugar cakes, and sesame paste fried cakes.
“Just sit and rest. No need for you to lift a finger.”
“Second Sister-in-law, how did you transform my second brother like this?” Lu Yueji dragged over the small stool used for plucking chicken feathers and picked up a sesame paste fried cake. “I hardly recognize him anymore. He’s almost as considerate as Brother Heping now.”
“I’m merely the beneficiary of his experimental reform initiative.”
Liang Xin lifted the teacup, took a sip of hot tea, and exhaled a slow stream of warm vapor.
“Beneficiary?”
Lu Yueji looked puzzled. “What experimental reform?”
Lu Chongfeng suddenly approached with his knife. “Why is a child meddling in adult affairs? Go marinate the chicken.”
“Didn’t you say you’d handle everything and let us rest?”
“Who said that included you? Get to work.”
“Lu the Exploiter.”
Lu Yueji finished the fried cake in her hand, picked up the small stool, and went to marinate the chicken by the aluminum basin.
Wei Yuanyang entered the backyard and observed the Lu siblings—one cleaning fish, the other marinating chicken—while Liang Xin, whom he had assumed wouldn’t receive much regard in the Lu household, lounged in the rocking chair. She held tea in one hand, the latest People’s Daily in the other, chewing on some unidentified snack.
This was the first time he had seen Liang Xin so at ease.
He had always known she was beautiful, but now, dressed in a red wool coat with sunlight dusting her fair skin in golden powder, her lazy elegance radiated an captivating charm that held his gaze.
Suddenly, a tall figure wielding a blood-stained knife stepped in front of Liang Xin, blocking the view.
Wei Yuanyang retreated a step, eyeing Lu Chongfeng warily.
Liang Xin shaded her eyes from the sun, glanced back at him, then yawned and lazily reclined again.
She actually yawned!
Wei Yuanyang pressed his lips tightly together.
He refused to accept this.
He couldn’t believe Liang Xin had stopped caring about him in such a short time.
Lu Chongfeng: “Something you need?”
“Uncle Lu has guests, so I came out first to see if there’s any work at home that needs help.” Wei Yuanyang steadied his mindset, knowing it was no use opposing Lu Chongfeng. “Liang Xin and I are things of the past. Besides, we never had any real relationship to begin with. Chongfeng, we were both born in the Jinshan Garrison District and lived together once—we’re not enemies.”
“Chongfeng, what are you doing?”
Chief Lu suddenly emerged, saw Lu Chongfeng’s posture, and said sternly, “Put the knife away.”
“Put it away? Then who’s going to gut the fish?”
“I will.”
Wei Yuanyang rolled up his sleeves but didn’t dare step forward.
Chief Lu stared at Lu Chongfeng. “Yuanyang is a martyr’s family member. If your Uncle Wei had lived to this day, Yuanyang would be just like you…”
“How are we the same? Even if I starved to death, I wouldn’t cheat a female comrade out of a single cent.”
Lu Chongfeng accurately tossed the knife onto the cutting board beside the fish basin. “Go ahead and gut it.”
Wei Yuanyang breathed a sigh of relief internally. Passing by Liang Xin, he walked to the large aluminum basin, picked up the knife, sat on a stool, and resumed scaling the half-scaled silver carp.
Chief Lu’s shoulders relaxed slightly as he turned and left in silence.
Lu Chongfeng washed his hands again, hooked a small stool with his foot, and sat down in front of Liang Xin’s lounge chair, blocking Wei Yuanyang’s peripheral view of her face entirely.
“I’ve been thinking about something.”
“What is it?”
Liang Xin set down the newspaper and picked up the Military News. “Should we move the television from the room to the first floor?”
“Put it wherever you want.”
Lu Chongfeng looked at the enamel teacup in Liang Xin’s hand. “I’m thirsty.”
Liang Xin glanced at the coffee table where another enamel teacup and a bamboo-cased thermos sat on an enamel tray. “Drink some water.”
“That’s too hot.” Lu Chongfeng reached out. “I’m really thirsty.”
Wei Yuanyang straightened up and looked at the two of them.
Watching Liang Xin hand the teacup to Lu Chongfeng, who didn’t take it but instead lowered his head to drink directly from the cup, Wei Yuanyang’s grip on the knife handle tightened until his knuckles turned white.
Thud!
The sound of the cleaver hitting the cutting board made the now-quenched Lu Chongfeng look up. He tilted his head and glanced over. “Don’t know how to gut fish?”
“…I do.”
“Why is Yuanyang working?”
Hu Fenglian returned from buying Sichuan peppercorns outside. Seeing the scene in the courtyard, she froze for a moment before shooting an annoyed glare toward the study. “Yueji, go tidy up your own room.”
“It’s already tidied.”
Lu Yueji liked staying here. Though she didn’t know why, she just wanted to remain and keep watching.
As she rubbed coarse salt into the chicken cavities, she observed the three of them.
“Auntie Hu, it’s fine.” Wei Yuanyang picked up the cleaver and deftly sliced open the fish belly. “I gutted plenty of fish when I was in the countryside. Uncle Lu said even if the marriage arrangement doesn’t work out, we’re still like siblings. It’s only right for me to help with household chores—don’t treat me as a guest.”
Truly worthy of the male lead who built half his fortune on smooth talk.
Thick-skinned and adaptable.
Liang Xin set down her cup. “Mom, should we stir-fry the Sichuan peppercorns and salt?”
“Yes.” Hu Fenglian looked at her daughter. “Yueji, don’t coat all the chickens in salt. Leave two—I want to make Sichuan pepper-flavored salted chicken. Your Second Sister-in-law likes spicy flavors.”
Wei Yuanyang: “…”
He glanced at Liang Xin with mixed feelings.
It seemed everyone in the Lu family valued her greatly.
If this continued, Liang Xin might truly change her heart.
Just as Wei Yuanyang was feeling panicked, he suddenly remembered that he was the only one Liang Xin had ever treated with such care.
Especially after seeing Liang Xin’s relationship with Lu Chongfeng up close—it was clear she didn’t take him seriously, nor did she hold him in her heart.
A wave of wild joy surged in Wei Yuanyang’s chest. “I’ll stir-fry!”
The backyard fell silent for a moment.
Lu Chongfeng narrowed his eyes.
“I—I just wanted to help Aunt Hu,” Wei Yuanyang hastily explained, his head clouded with impulsiveness. “The fish is already cleaned, and Aunt Hu is getting older. The cook isn’t here, so I…”
Wei Yuanyang’s voice cut off abruptly.
Because the moment Liang Xin stood up from the lounge chair, Lu Chongfeng heard the movement and turned around, lowering his head—just as Liang Xin’s lips brushed against his cheek.
Liang Xin froze, staring at the equally frozen Lu Zewei.
Lu Zewei raised his hand and touched the spot on his jaw where her lips had just been, slowly rubbing it. Then, the corner of his mouth lifted as he glanced triumphantly at Wei Yuanyang.
Wei Yuanyang: “……..”
He clenched his fists, watching Liang Xin’s reaction.
Liang Xin turned and walked into the living room.
Wei Yuanyang’s gaze followed her but was blocked by Lu Chongfeng’s back as he followed her into the living room.
“You rest, I’ll do it.”
Lu Zewei took the Sichuan peppercorns, straightened his posture, and strode confidently into the kitchen.
Liang Xin watched his victorious retreating figure, then imitated him by raising her hand to touch her lips.
She lowered her head and chuckled softly.
Wei Yuanyang stood under the sun. Perhaps the sunlight was too intense—he felt his heart struggling for breath.
“Do you know how to stir-fry?” Hu Fenglian asked worriedly, following him into the kitchen. “Use the honeycomb briquette stove to stir-fry. Close the air vent halfway, keep the heat low, and don’t let it burn.”
Liang Xin didn’t return to the backyard to lie down. Instead, she brought the glutinous rice, red beans, kidney beans, and barley that had been soaking for hours to the kitchen sink, rinsed them again, poured them into the large pot on the stove, and added millet, black glutinous rice, lotus seeds, peanuts, red dates, longan, and walnuts. She filled the pot halfway with water and began simmering Laba congee.
The tradition of eating Laba congee in Jiangjing remained unbroken.
Eating Laba congee on Laba Festival brings blessings and longevity.
“Don’t close the air vent after using the honeycomb briquette stove.” Hu Fenglian took out two packets of Chinese herbs. “Xiao Wei brought the medicine back earlier. I’ll brew it this afternoon. Oh, and I’ll stew another Ginger Duck Soup for you today. The Ginger Duck Soup your grandmother used to make was the best for replenishing qi and blood.”
After adding firewood to the stove, it only needed occasional checking—no one had to watch it constantly.
Liang Xin took the stir-fried Sichuan peppercorn salt prepared by Lu Chongfeng and walked back to the backyard. Just as she sat on the stool, a long shadow fell over another hesitant shadow as someone crouched beside the large aluminum basin.
Lu Zewei grabbed a handful of the peppercorn salt, sprinkled it inside the chicken cavity, and began massaging it vigorously yet methodically. “After salting, do we hang it up?”
“Let it sit for two days before hanging to air-dry.”
Just as Liang Xin picked up one chicken, it was snatched away. Lu Zewei quickly rubbed the peppercorn salt inside and outside both chickens to marinate them, then glanced at the person standing nearby. “You can take this inside and then stay in the living room to rest. No need to come back out.”
Wei Yuanyang: “……..”
He glanced at Liang Xin, but she was focused on the chickens, not even sparing him a sidelong glance.
Wei Yuanyang fumed silently as he lifted the aluminum basin.
After just a second, his face turned red from strain, and he hastily set the basin back down.
Suddenly, Lu Chongfeng stood up and walked over. He effortlessly lifted the aluminum basin containing the salted chickens and strode into the living room without any sign of difficulty.
After coming out, he bypassed Wei Yuanyang and carried the basin containing several heavier silver carps directly to Liang Xin.
From start to finish, his breathing remained even, as if he were merely carrying two basins of air.
Throughout the entire process, he didn’t glance triumphantly at Wei Yuanyang as he had before.
He just worked in silence.
Yet Wei Yuanyang reacted more intensely than earlier, his face flushing bright red.
Lu Chongfeng suddenly sighed: “I still have to take medicine tonight. Herbal medicine is the bitterest—I really don’t want to drink it, but there’s no choice. My body is too weak.”
Liang Xin: “……”
Wei Yuanyang’s face flushed red and pale in patches, unable to stand there any longer, he turned and strode into the reception room.
Liang Xin looked at Lu Chongfeng, whose lips were curved in a high arc. “Pass me the knife.”
Lu Chongfeng paused. “What for? Hold back, don’t do anything foolish. If you don’t like that fly buzzing around you, I’ll talk to Dad. He can meet him in the office from now on, not at home.”
Liang Xin: “…To pickle salted fish, you need to make two or three cuts on the fish’s back. That way, the flavor can penetrate.”
So it was about preparing fish.
Lu Chongfeng felt a slight disappointment.
He had thought she shared his thoughts.
That she wanted to chop up that annoying fly.
Taking advantage of the warm sun, they finished pickling the salted chicken, salted fish, and salted meat, leaving only the sausages yet to be stuffed.
Because the Laba Congee was ready.
Hu Fenglian ladled the congee from the large pot into a small steel pot, brought it to the dining table, and added a roast duck supplied internally for the Laba Festival as an extra dish.
Liang Xin looked at the purple-red, thick, and glutinous Laba Congee in her bowl. She scooped up a spoonful; the congee flowed unbroken, tempting the appetite. She blew on it, put it in her mouth, chewed slowly, and savored the sweetness.
The peanuts, red beans, and kidney beans were stewed to a soft, fragrant texture. Glutinous rice, red beans, peanuts, red dates, and walnuts—all happened to be her favorites. One spoonful after another, she couldn’t stop.
After finishing one bowl, she looked up and found everyone staring at her.
“Is it that delicious?”
Lu Chongfeng pushed his untouched bowl in front of Liang Xin, took her empty bowl, filled it with a new serving, and placed it before himself.
Liang Xin: “…The first bowl brings blessings. I’ve already finished mine.”
“All the blessings to you.”
Lu Chongfeng, who hadn’t touched his chopsticks for a while, now used Liang Xin’s bowl to serve himself a new portion of the eight treasures porridge. Skipping the spoon, he lifted the bowl directly, blowing on it and drinking it in large gulps.
Wei Yuanyang’s hand gripping the spoon nearly crushed it.
He knew he had to speed up and do what needed to be done.
Only by taking action could he possibly re-enter Liang Xin’s heart.
Chief Lu: “Yuan Yang plans to enlist.”
Everyone at the table was stunned.
Liang Xin also stopped and looked at Wei Yuanyang.
Finally receiving a direct glance from Liang Xin, Wei Yuanyang smiled. “It shouldn’t be too late yet.”
“How is it not late?” Hu Fenglian put down her spoon. “Most people enlist at seventeen or eighteen. By their twenties, if they haven’t been promoted to cadre, they’re usually discharged and return home. You’re a university teacher with a good job—why enlist now?”
“Last time, Chongfeng was right.”
Wei Yuanyang smiled. “I can’t continue to disgrace my father’s honor. Although it’s a bit late, I still want to be like my father—a soldier who protects the home and defends the nation. No matter how hard or difficult it is, I’m not afraid.”
Liang Xin scooped another spoonful of congee and slowly chewed a longan.
“It’s not late. You’re not even twenty-four and already a university teacher.” Chief Lu looked pleased. “Your father was always most afraid of the political commissar. As long as you have the determination and courage to endure hardships, you might even become a Political Work Cadre—the very role your father feared most—after enlisting.”
Hu Fenglian let out a sigh. “Well… it’s just that your father only has you. Once you’re a soldier, you could be sent to the battlefield at any moment, and sacrifice is always a possibility.”
Wei Yuanyang: “Aunt Hu, compared to stability, I believe my father would support me more in becoming someone like him.”
Lu Chongfeng finished a bowl of congee. “When are you leaving?”
Wei Yuanyang: “…The recruitment process has just begun. It depends on the arrangements by the Armed Forces Department. It could be by the end of the year, or perhaps not until spring.”
The legendary figure’s career had taken a different path. Instead of going to the Commercial Bureau, he was starting from scratch as a soldier.
His marriage to his first wife, Lu Yueji, had not come to fruition.
As for her, the cannon fodder character, she hadn’t preserved her chastity waiting for the legendary figure to return and offer a sigh of regret.
The original plot had completely derailed.
Liang Xin stood on the balcony, gazing at the moon.
Suddenly, a voice tinged with a hint of melancholy came from the room behind:
“What are you thinking about?”