“Marshal, should we look into him?”
Yu Sui seemed to notice the displeasure flickering across Song Bo’s face.
At those words, Song Bo snapped back to his senses.
He had never realized he could feel such overwhelming possessiveness— and it had surfaced far too soon.
Song Bo’s dark eyes were calm as still water. After a moment’s thought, he spoke, his tone growing heavier. “Investigate him.”
Geng Xingjin glanced toward Song Bo’s military vehicle. “Did he come to see you off?”
Su Fuying looked over too, but she could only see the soldier driving up front and Yu Sui— Song Bo himself was hidden from view.
“He did,” Su Fuying replied.
Geng Xingjin’s lips twitched upward. His gaze dropped, softening. “The Young Marshal is so busy with official duties. If he took the time to see you off, he must care for you very deeply.”
Su Fuying looked at Geng Xingjin, feeling a flicker of confusion. Just because Song Bo had come to see her off, that meant he loved her?
She merely smiled and let it pass, casting one last glance at Song Bo’s direction before turning and walking into the school.
Su Fuying and Geng Xingjin chatted now and then, getting along quite pleasantly.
Cao Jiayue, however, remained as outspoken and reckless as ever.
“You’re already engaged to the Young Marshal! How dare you cling to another man right out in the street!”
The group of female students who had been talking with her frowned. They glanced at Song Bo’s parked car and could see clearly that Su Fuying had done no such thing. The two had been standing at a proper distance, speaking normally.
One of them spoke up. “There was no clinging at all. They were just talking, that’s all.”
Cao Jiayue paid them no mind and marched straight over toward Song Bo’s vehicle.
Song Bo’s window was rolled down. He sat in full military uniform, cap perched neatly upon his head, his profile strikingly handsome. Cao Jiayue’s resentment simmered the more she looked.
Some time ago, her mother had been playing cards with Song Bo’s mother. Over the game, someone had mentioned her— suggested that she and Song Bo ought to meet. But her father was merely a corps commander under Commander Sun; the chance that the Song family would look favorably upon such a match was vanishingly small. Before she knew it, word came that the Song and Su families had arranged a match, and the engagement followed soon after.
Cao Jiayue smoothed her hair and walked slowly up to the car.
Song Bo glanced at her once— and slowly began to roll the window up.
The poised, graceful mask Cao Jiayue had been wearing shattered instantly. She hurried forward two steps.
“Young Marshal.”
Song Bo’s gaze was cold, unreadable.
Yu Sui stepped down from the vehicle and stood firmly in her path.
Song Bo addressed the soldier driving up front. “Return to the Governor’s Headquarters.”
Panicked, Cao Jiayue blurted out directly, “Please don’t misunderstand! Fuying and Xingjin are just friends!”
Anyone could have heard that for what it was: a deliberate attempt to sow discord.
Yet Song Bo asked, his voice deceptively calm, “Are they truly just friends?”
A triumphant smirk tugged at Cao Jiayue’s lips. “At school, the two were always together. But ever since you became engaged to Fuying, they’ve barely spoken to one another.”
“So what you are saying,” Song Bo said slowly, “is that there was something between them once?”
“Young Marshal, that is all in the past.”
Song Bo turned his gaze fully upon her, his eyes as cold as frost. “Your father serves in the army. You must know military discipline.”
“Do you know what punishment awaits those who spread false rumors and stir up trouble?”
The triumph drained from Cao Jiayue’s face completely.
Song Bo’s car pulled slowly away, leaving her standing there, shaken and distraught.
“Fuying is my fiancée. You are in no position to pass judgment on her. Do you think I cannot tell truth from slander?”
“If you truly have not learned how to speak properly, then go home and tell your father to present himself at the Governor’s Headquarters. Let him be taught how to behave— and then he may come home and teach his daughter.”
Song Bo’s tone had been light, almost casual— yet every word carried both cutting irony and clear warning. Those words repeated themselves over and over in Cao Jiayue’s mind, ringing in her ears.
Of all this, Su Fuying remained entirely unaware.
When she left the examination hall, she found that her room was right next to Geng Xingjin’s. So the two walked out through the school gates together, chatting easily— a handsome young man and a beautiful young woman, a striking pair.
Song Bo, who had come to pick Su Fuying up, stood watching from a distance. And seeing that sight, he found he could not master the surge of jealousy that rose within him.
Su Fuying spotted his familiar vehicle. She bade Geng Xingjin farewell and walked quickly over to it.
The moment she stepped inside, she could feel that something was wrong.
“Young Marshal,” she greeted him, as warmly and politely as always.
Song Bo looked at her. Deep emotions swirled in his eyes— emotions Su Fuying could not begin to read.
Instead of returning directly home, Song Bo took her to a new restaurant. The food was excellent, yet Su Fuying could tell that Song Bo was not himself— far quieter, far more distant than usual.
For the next two days, Su Fuying saw nothing of him at all. Tong Da and Pang Wenyao resumed picking her up and dropping her off. Song Bo was nowhere to be seen. Nor did Su Fuying press for information or ask after him.
And so two days passed— in total silence, with neither reaching out to the other.
At last the final examination came to an end.
Su Fuying stepped out of the hall to find Geng Xingjin waiting there, positively glowing with delight. She had rarely seen him so happy— it turned out he had correctly guessed nearly every question on the exam.
He walked beside her, excitedly explaining the answers he had written— yet Su Fuying’s thoughts were far away, her attention drifting.
When they reached the school gates, she saw it: the familiar military vehicle, standing where it had stood so many times before.
Her heart felt heavy, caught in a tangle of feelings she could not sort out. She stood still, lost in thought, while Geng Xingjin remained caught up in his own happiness.
When he noticed her distraction, he tapped her gently on the shoulder. “Is something wrong?”
Su Fuying started and looked at him. “Nothing. It is only— after so many days of examinations, I am rather tired.” She offered him a gentle smile. “But congratulations! If you guessed the questions correctly, you are certain to gain admission to the university.”
Geng Xingjin scratched his head, beaming— but before he could say another word, a shadow fell over them both.
Song Bo stood before Su Fuying, clad in his military uniform. Gone was his usual courtesy. He reached out, took her hand firmly in his, and drew her away from Geng Xingjin’s side. His face was colder and sterner than she had ever seen it.
Su Fuying understood then. She let out a quiet, helpless little sigh— and reached up to slip her arm through his.
Song Bo had been burning inwardly, fighting to keep his jealousy and frustration in check. But the moment she took his arm, all that anger simply melted away— replaced instead by utter astonishment.
She turned then, and spoke clearly to Geng Xingjin.
“Allow me to introduce you. This is Song Bo— my fiancé.”
Beneath the brim of his cap, Song Bo’s eyes were bright and glowing, fixed upon her as she spoke those words and claimed him openly.
Geng Xingjin’s joy faded. He straightened, his expression turning to earnest respect— for before him stood the man who was the guardian and protector of the entire city.
“Greetings, Marshal Song,” Geng Xingjin said formally. “I am Geng Xingjin, a classmate of Fuying’s.”
Looking at the two of them— poised, dignified, utterly at ease— Song Bo suddenly felt ashamed. He realized that in all this, he himself had been the childish one.
The car stopped before the very restaurant where Song Bo and Su Fuying had dined together for the very first time. Song Bo had already reserved a private room. No sooner had they been seated than the dishes began arriving, one after another.
Yet Su Fuying did not pick up her chopsticks. Nor did Song Bo. He poured water for her, filled her bowl with soup— but made no move to eat himself.
When the waiter arrived carrying the dessert tray, Su Fuying called out to him.
“Please— bring us a bottle of good wine.”
Deep red liquid swirled and glowed within the crystal glass. Su Fuying poured one for herself and set the bottle down. She had barely taken a small sip when she saw Song Bo reach for the bottle, pour himself a full glass, and drink it all down in one long draught.
Su Fuying set her glass down at once and reached out, her hand resting gently upon his wrist just as he reached to pour a second.
“You are still recovering from your injuries,” she said quietly.
Song Bo’s hand fell away from the bottle.
Su Fuying looked straight into his eyes. “These past two days… you have been in a dark mood, have you not?”
Song Bo lifted his head. The lamplight glowed softly, reflected deep within his dark eyes.
“Is it some troubling matter at the headquarters?” she asked him. “Or is it… because of Geng Xingjin?”