With a sharp cry, Meng Qing fell to the ground, the newspapers in her hand flying into the air and scattering everywhere.
“Sorry, comrade, are you alright?”
Ignoring the scraped skin on her hands, Meng Qing hurriedly got up and began searching for that fateful letter.
Lian Qiao knew she was at fault, but how could this person just walk straight into her without a word and then go flying at the slightest touch? She was far too fragile.
She bent down to help pick things up, and an envelope under her feet caught her attention.
On the envelope with a red seal, the recipient was written in large characters: Chen Lang.
Instinctively, she bent down to pick it up. Meng Qing looked up and saw her holding the letter, almost instinctively lunging forward, but Lian Qiao sidestepped to avoid her.
“Give it back!” Meng Qing was so panicked that her voice trembled involuntarily.
Lian Qiao looked up at the woman before her, flustered and nearly losing her composure, and stared at her in confusion.
“What are you doing here?” Chen Lang strode over, having spotted Lian Qiao from afar, and then noticed Meng Qing.
Meng Qing was truly thrown into disarray now—the very thing she feared had come to pass.
Lian Qiao handed the letter in her hand over. “This seems to be your letter.”
Chen Lang took it, glanced down at the name on the envelope, and confirmed it was correct.
He looked up, puzzled, at Meng Qing.
“I… I just saw it was your letter, so I picked it up for you. I was planning to bring it to you…” Meng Qing’s voice grew softer and softer, ending almost in a whisper. Her face flushed red before turning pale, and her hands trembled slightly with nervousness.
“Don’t trouble yourself next time.”
Chen Lang’s tone was flat, but it felt like a harsh slap across her face. She didn’t dare look up at him, only turned and hurried away as if fleeing.
Privately taking someone else’s mail was a violation of military regulations, but Chen Lang hadn’t exposed her.
That icy, dismissive reprimand made her feel as if she’d fallen into an icy abyss.
Watching Meng Qing’s retreating figure, Lian Qiao realized belatedly—as a woman, she had a woman’s intuition.
This woman liked Chen Lang.
She glanced at the envelope in his hand, wondering what exactly was written inside.
Chen Lang opened the letter in front of her and handed her the letter paper.
“The marriage introduction letter has been approved.”
Lian Qiao held the letter in her hand, but her thoughts lingered on the woman she had just seen.
Who was she?
If she could move freely around this compound, she must work here.
Then she must know what this letter represented.
Why did she try to take it secretly?
Was she Chen Lang’s ex-girlfriend?
Lian Qiao’s mind raced until Chen Lang’s next words pulled her back to reality.
“Did you come to see me for something?”
Right, she had come to thank him.
Originally, she had planned to wait for him by the roadside in the evening, but Yang Chunmei insisted she go to the military camp to see him.
Under the guise of “declaring sovereignty.”
Since they were about to get married, she ought to make an appearance.
She changed into the dress she wore the first time she met him and was pushed out the door by Yang Chunmei.
Along the way, thinking about how Chen Lang had silently protected her, she found herself filled with newfound courage.
What was wrong with seeing him?
She was his fiancée.
Open and aboveboard, lawful and proper.
She just hadn’t expected to encounter such a coincidence at the entrance.
She looked up at Chen Lang.
He wore his military uniform and cap, standing tall and straight like a pine tree on a mountain peak.
If he and that girl had once been lovers, why hadn’t he married her?
Lian Qiao couldn’t understand and didn’t plan to dwell on it. She carefully handed the letter back to him.
“I wanted to say thank you. It was you who made Zhang Daju apologize, wasn’t it?”
Chen Lang didn’t plan to deny it.
“I thought you would have told me yesterday.”
Lian Qiao felt that gossip among older women wasn’t something men should get involved in.
They were all officers from the same residential compound, seeing each other constantly.
Rather than having Chen Lang stand up for her, it was better for her to handle it herself.
From a rational standpoint, this approach was the most appropriate.
Seeing her fall silent, Chen Lang reached out to shield her from the sunlight.
“The sun is too strong. Let me walk you back.”
Lian Qiao shook her head. “I can go back by myself. I’m going to buy a train ticket. If I can leave tonight, I will. I need to go back and get my household registration booklet. I heard from my brother-in-law that you’re busy with work right now, so you should stay here. I’ll be fine on my own.”
She said it all in one breath, not giving Chen Lang a chance to speak.
“I can take leave, but it’ll have to be in a while. I should still accompany you back.”
“No, no. Your mother is still sick, and you’re busy with work. I understand. It’s nothing serious—I’ll just go back. You don’t need to see me off.”
Lian Qiao turned and walked away, afraid he might follow to escort her. Only after walking quite a distance did she sneak a glance back.
He was still standing at the entrance of the military camp, a straight, upright figure in the distance.
Lian Qiao quickly turned her head and strode forward.
She walked faster and faster, almost breaking into a run.
The midday sun was scorching, heat waves sweeping across the land, the oppressive summer heat making it hard to breathe.
She first went home to inform her cousin, then took some money and headed to the bus stop.
Just as she stepped out of the military compound gate, she was startled by a car horn from the roadside.
Chen Lang was sitting in the car.
“I’ll take you.”
Lian Qiao frantically waved her hands. “You’re so busy. I can just take the bus.”
“Driving is faster. Get in,” Chen Lang insisted.
Seeing Lian Qiao still standing by the roadside, Chen Lang opened the car door. “Then I’ll have to ask you to get in.”
“Don’t.” Lian Qiao quickly pulled open the door and slipped into the passenger seat.
Chen Lang drove in silence, while Lian Qiao stared straight ahead.
She wondered if she was delaying his work.
She had said she wouldn’t be a burden to him—did this count?
Soon, they arrived at the station. Just as Lian Qiao was about to say he could drop her off here, Chen Lang had already gotten out of the car.
“It’s crowded and chaotic here. Wait in the car. I’ll buy the ticket.”
He walked quickly. Lian Qiao sat in the car, watching him disappear into the crowd.
The long line at the ticket window stretched all the way to the square, but the olive-green uniform was easy to spot.
The sun remained fierce, and the long line inched forward slowly. After what felt like an eternity, he finally emerged from the crowd, holding a ticket.
“The train leaves at nine tonight. The details are on the ticket. I’ll take you to the station tonight.”
Lian Qiao took the ticket, her fingertips accidentally brushing against his palm. She whispered, “I could have gone by myself.”
Chen Lang didn’t respond, driving her back to the residential compound.
He watched her enter the house before leaving.
Many people saw Chen Lang’s jeep but no longer dared to gossip.
“Oh, Da Qiao’er, did Battalion Commander Chen bring you back?”
“Yeah, it was on the way,” Lian Qiao replied casually.
“Look at them, they’re such a perfect match.”
“Absolutely. Make sure to invite us all to the wedding banquet.”
Lian Qiao slipped into the house, letting out a heavy sigh.
“You’re back already? That was quick.” Yang Chunmei was changing Baozhu’s diaper.
“Yeah, the train leaves at nine tonight.”
“Leaving today? I haven’t prepared any food for your journey yet. Did Battalion Commander Shen get leave so easily?”
“He’s not going.” Lian Qiao picked up the cold water jug, poured herself a cup of boiled water that had cooled, and gulped it down.
“He’s not going?!” Yang Chunmei quickly changed the cloth diaper, then turned to look at her in confusion. “How can he not go?”
Lian Qiao sat on the chair, grabbed the palm-leaf fan on the table, and fanned herself, the stray hairs at her temples fluttering in the breeze.
“He’s so busy, and there’s still someone sick at home. I can go back by myself.”
“No way! If you go back alone, it’ll be like throwing meat buns at a dog—you’ll never come back!”