Surely he wouldn’t take a liking to her… would he? When one invites a guest to dinner, it is only proper to let them order first. Yet Cheng Fangping insisted he ate anything, that he had no preferences and was easily pleased. His manner seemed entirely sincere, not mere politeness—so Jiang Yuan went ahead and ordered several of the restaurant’s signature dishes.
“Locating people is not difficult,” Cheng Fangping said. “But tell me—what relation are these three men to you?”
“Pardon?” Jiang Yuan did not immediately understand.
“There are proper procedures to follow,” he explained formally. “You must present a letter of introduction from your village committee, and state clearly the nature of your connection—whether they are relatives, acquaintances, or whether some dispute exists between you.”
He spoke with the impartial formality of duty. Jiang Yuan thought to herself: If I possessed all those documents, I should have gone to the police station myself. Why would I need to come to you?
She considered briefly, then resolved to speak plainly. “Since matters have come to this, I have no reason to keep things hidden. Those three men I seek…” She took a deep breath, steeling herself before continuing. “…assaulted me. One month ago.”
At her words, Cheng Fangping’s chopsticks—just lifting a piece of braised pork to place into her bowl—jerked sharply. The meat slipped, clattering onto the tabletop, leaving a glistening stain of oil upon the wood.
Jiang Yuan recounted everything that had happened—the assault, the circumstances, and her resolve to bring those three wretches to justice.
Cheng Fangping sat in silence, turning the facts over in his mind. At last he found what troubled him. “If I understand correctly—you remember being dragged into a cave by these three men. But of everything that followed… you recall nothing. You awoke alone, with no physical marks upon your person. And since that day, the three men have vanished completely. Is that not so?”
He looked at her with unconcealed doubt. Jiang Yuan met his gaze steadily. “I am nineteen years old. No girl of nineteen would ever speak of such a thing were it not true. I simply wish to see justice done. Is that not the very thing you officers of the law strive to achieve every day?”
Cheng Fangping lowered his head, absorbing her words. When he looked up, he sat straighter in his chair, his demeanour once more that of an officer.
“Very well. First—I will accompany you to a hospital for a full examination. Mountain air is thick with miasma. Prolonged exposure may cloud the mind and distort memory. If doctors confirm that you have indeed been assaulted… only then will I launch a formal search for these three men.”
Jiang Yuan thought of the child she had carried in her past life—a fact that could not be denied. “I will not go to the hospital,” she said firmly. “I know what happened to me. And besides—I am pregnant.”
Cheng Fangping stared at her, utterly stunned. His hands, resting upon the table, tightened until veins bulged along his forearms. It was a long moment before he seemed to reach some difficult decision. He nodded slowly.
“Very well. I will find those three men for you. You have my word.”
“Thank you.”
He appeared deeply unsettled, even anxious to take his leave. Beyond expressing her gratitude, Jiang Yuan knew not what else to say.
New Plans
After dinner, Jiang Yuan went to visit Wang Yajuan. Stacks of leftover fabric lay about the room, and several young women stood looking at them with troubled faces. Scattered scraps were too small to make clothing, yet too substantial to discard.
Jiang Yuan looked them over. “Make silk scarves. Hair ornaments. Patchwork handbags,” she said simply.
“But the authorities made it perfectly clear,” Wang Yajuan said, still trembling at the memory. “If we are caught selling such things at the railway station again, it will not be merely fines or detention.”
“Then we shall not sell them at the station,” Jiang Yuan replied. “Is there no other place we may trade?”
Her words broke through their despair like light piercing darkness.
Meanwhile at the Garrison
Lu Ze had remembered Cheng Fangping’s dinner invitation. He telephoned home beforehand, instructing Aunt Liu to prepare additional dishes. Cheng Fangping’s rank as police chief fell far beneath Lu Qinian’s. Yet his family had served in the military for three generations; his grandfather was a revered veteran leader, and his father commanded a military district in the south—outranking Lu Qinian himself. Cultivating a friendship with him could only benefit Lu Ze.
Lu Ze finished his training and was preparing to leave when he crossed paths with Lu Qinian, who had just returned from an inspection tour. Lu Qinian sat in his military jeep, window rolled down.
“Where are you going?” Lu Qinian asked.
“Cheng Fangping is dining at our home this evening. I intend to be there. I shall return before lights-out.”
At the name Cheng Fangping, Lu Qinian’s brow furrowed. “Go on ahead. I shall follow shortly.”
Lu Ze wondered. Did Cheng Fangping carry such weight that even Lu Qinian felt obliged to return home to receive him? He dared not ask, however, and departed in silence.
At Headquarters
Lu Qinian returned to his office to set aside his documents and was preparing to leave when Xu Qianjin appeared. Seeing him in such haste to depart, Xu Qianjin smiled knowingly.
“The sun has risen from the west today, I see. Has Commander Lu himself grown eager to return home at the close of day?”
“Spare me your sarcasm,” Lu Qinian said coldly, glancing at him with eyes like shards of ice. “Speak your mind or be gone.”
“Very well—business.” Xu Qianjin’s expression turned serious. “I have had those three men questioned. They know neither Song Yuhua nor anyone else from the capital. According to what we have learned—Song Yuhua sought to have those three men brought to the capital through Old Guo’s assistance. No one yet knows her true purpose in bringing them here. Have you succeeded in drawing the truth from Song Yuhua?”
“I have asked,” Lu Qinian replied. “She claims merely to have heard rumours… and wishes to question them to confirm or deny them.”
Xu Qianjin considered this. “Then the pieces fit. Strange tales have suddenly begun circulating in Jiang Yuan’s home village. Whispered rumours… claiming that Jiang Yuan was intimately involved with all three of those men.”
Lu Qinian’s frown deepened.
“I am investigating who first spread these lies,” Xu Qianjin continued. “But I have already established that they are entirely false.”
Lu Qinian looked sharply at him. “Established?”
“Those three men,” Xu Qianjin explained. “Years ago they were caught stealing into a village to harm women. They were seized by the local men and forced to drink a potent herbal brew—an ancestral remedy of that village—intended to render them impotent. Ashamed of what befell them, they spoke never a word of it. They confessed only when pressed closely during questioning. Physicians have since examined them and confirmed the fact.”
Xu Qianjin offered his conclusion. “Song Yuhua plainly refuses to accept Jiang Yuan as her son’s wife. Yet Lu Ze is determined to marry her, and she cannot sway him. So she has arranged for those three men to come here… intending that they testify publicly to some affair between them and Jiang Yuan. Once Lu Ze believes his fiancée is compromised, he will cast her off of his own accord.”
He fell silent as the temperature in the room seemed to plummet. Lu Qinian’s expression had turned terrifyingly cold—sharp, and glinting like polished ice.
Realising what he had implied, Xu Qianjin hastened to correct himself. “Ah—forgive me. I had forgotten… Jiang Yuan is legally your wife, through marriage certificate. In any case… two tigers cannot share the same mountain—especially two tigresses. Song Yuhua simply wishes to discredit Jiang Yuan and send her back home in disgrace.”
Lu Qinian’s expression softened somewhat, though his voice remained icy. “This matter concerns no official business. Do not waste further resources investigating it.”
Xu Qianjin breathed a silent sigh of relief. As though I relish prying into the chaos of your household! He said aloud, “It shall be as you command, Commander.”
Then he remembered something else. “Since we have now cleared Jiang Yuan’s name of suspicion… regarding that marriage certificate—shall I prepare the necessary documentation and submit it? Requesting that the marriage be annulled? Once that is settled… Lu Ze may decide his own path.”
“When you submitted the original marriage application,” Lu Qinian asked, his tone deceptively casual. “Did you include any explanation of the circumstances?”
In truth—he had not. Nor could anyone blame him. At the time, Lu Qinian had said nothing whatsoever. He had simply handed over the papers and instructed Xu Qianjin to register the marriage. How was anyone to guess that Lu Qinian had married her precisely because he suspected her of deception?
“If annulment proves too cumbersome,” Xu Qianjin suggested practically. “A divorce would serve equally well. At your age… everyone whispers that you remain unwed and unattached. They speculate… that perhaps you are incapable, or care nothing for women. A divorce sounds far less shameful than remaining single and childless past thirty.”
Lu Qinian gave a short, dry laugh. “Commander Xu… you have a most peculiar way of offering comfort.”
They had served together for years; they had faced death side by side. Xu Qianjin knew Lu Qinian well enough to sense that something was amiss. His silence, his manner… it was all wrong.
Xu Qianjin leaned forward slightly and asked, cautiously:
“You… surely you haven’t developed feelings for Jiang Yuan… have you?”