Back then, Song Tingyue’s mother had brought him to Shanghai from another province in search of family.
She had once been engaged to a soldier. After he left home, all contact was lost. Everyone in the neighborhood said he had died in battle, but she refused to believe it. She searched everywhere for news of him until the strain ruined her health. Eventually, she fell ill and passed away.
Madam Wen was kindhearted. Seeing the young boy wandering the streets alone, she took him home and adopted him into the Wen family.
When Song Tingyue arrived, Wen Jianing was just over a year old, barely learning to speak.
Before she had even mastered “Mama” or “Papa,” the very first word she clearly called out was—
“Big Brother.”
And she kept calling him that for more than ten years.
Song Tingyue was seven years older than Wen Jianing. Grateful to the Wens for taking him in, he doted on his little sister with boundless devotion, treating her like the most precious treasure in the world.
He cherished her so carefully that it was as if he feared she’d break if he held her too tightly—or melt away if he held her too close.
Jianing adored her brother just as much. She followed him everywhere like his little shadow, chattering nonstop from morning till night. Even her own parents found her noisy, and the household servants often sighed whenever she came around.
But Song Tingyue never once grew impatient.
He would simply smile, scoop her into his arms, and lift her onto his shoulders.
Everything…
She destroyed with her own hands.
At some point, she realized her feelings for Song Tingyue had changed.
Whenever she looked at him, all she could see was how tall and handsome he had become. Her heart would suddenly race without warning, pounding against her chest like a drum.
A young girl experiencing her first crush had no one she dared confide in.
So she poured every secret into her diary instead.
Then one day…
Several pages filled with her innocent confessions of love had mysteriously been torn out.
Soon afterward, she noticed a girl from school—someone Song Tingyue had once rejected—appearing around him again and again.
Embarrassment.
Humiliation.
Anger.
Heartbreak.
Every emotion crashed over her at once.
She didn’t dare ask him about it.
All she could think was that her secret had been exposed.
Someone had seen it.
Someone had laughed at it.
And worst of all…
He had rejected her without ever saying a word.
From that day on, she became like a hedgehog, covered in sharp quills, refusing even to look him in the eye.
When he tried to carry her schoolbag, she threw it onto the ground and stormed off.
When he brought her a cup of tea, she took one sip, frowned, and splashed it onto the floor.
“It’s scalding! Are you trying to burn me to death?”
When he called her “little sister,” she snapped back furiously.
“Who says I’m your sister? I’d rather die than call you ‘Brother’ again. You’re not worthy of it!”
Her spoiled temper only grew worse with age. Too young to understand the weight of words, she always chose the cruelest ones she could think of.
“You eat our food and live in our house. What right do you have to give anyone that attitude?”
“If my parents hadn’t taken pity on you, you’d have starved to death on the streets!”
“Your surname is Song. Mine is Wen. Don’t flatter yourself into thinking you’re part of this family!”
Every sentence cut deeper than the last.
She riddled Song Tingyue with wounds until his heart was left in tatters.
Later, Song Tingyue was reclaimed by his biological father.
The father everyone believed had died in battle wasn’t dead at all.
He had risen to become an influential commander in the military district.
The day Song Tingyue left…
She didn’t even go to see him off.
He was nineteen.
She was twelve.
Song Tingyue enlisted in the army.
Whenever he returned to Shanghai on leave, he always came to visit the Wen family, carrying bags full of gifts.
Yet Jianing hid in her room every single time, refusing to see him.
Some time later, rumors spread after someone returned from visiting relatives in Shazhou.
They said Song Tingyue’s father had taken in the widow and daughter of a fallen comrade and was planning to marry his stepson to the widow’s daughter.
That very night, Wen Jianing wrote him a letter.
It contained only a few short lines.
From this day forward, the Wen family has nothing to do with you.
Don’t ever set foot in our home again.
Don’t ever let me see you again.
Let’s never have anything to do with each other for the rest of our lives.
Not long afterward…
The Wen family fell from grace.
Labeled as capitalists, her parents were arrested for political investigation. Their property was confiscated, and relatives and friends avoided them like the plague.
The pampered young lady became the despised daughter of a capitalist family.
She could barely even find enough to eat.
With nowhere else to turn, her parents thought of Song Tingyue.
Through a mutual acquaintance, they sent a letter to his regiment.
Wen Jianing had been born with every privilege. Raised like a treasured pearl, she grew up in a garden villa, traveled by rickshaw whenever she went out, and became winded after walking only a short distance.
She had been spoiled all her life.
How could someone like her survive being sent to the countryside for hard labor?
Besides, she was only eighteen—young, beautiful, and delicate.
Unable to bear the thought of their only daughter suffering alone, Mr. and Mrs. Wen begged Song Tingyue to pretend to marry her. As long as they obtained a marriage certificate, she could accompany the army as a military dependent instead of being sent away.
They had watched Song Tingyue grow up and regarded him as half a son already.
If Jianing stayed with him, at least someone would be there to look after her.
His reply came quickly.
He agreed.
With only the little money she had left, Wen Jianing bought a train ticket.
After days and nights of exhausting travel, she finally arrived in this desolate place in the middle of nowhere.
Before she left, her mother had repeatedly warned her,
“When you get there, you absolutely mustn’t throw childish tantrums at your brother anymore. Things aren’t the same as before. He’s now the commander of an entire regiment. Taking you in during times like these puts him under tremendous pressure. He’s only helping because of the affection your families once shared. Don’t forget that.”
Remembering those words, Jianing’s nose stung.
It had been six years since she’d seen him.
Song Tingyue was darker than before, much broader through the shoulders, his once-youthful features now sharpened into the rugged masculinity of a grown soldier.
“…Brother.”
She called him softly again.
“I know I treated you badly before… but… I really don’t have anywhere else to go.”
“If you’re still angry with me… then let me apologize properly.”
Head lowered, she nervously twisted the hem of her cotton blouse between her fingers.
“If that isn’t enough…”
“I can even kneel and kowtow to you.”
Song Tingyue frowned and absentmindedly rubbed one ear.
Why did that sound so strange coming from her?
He had known this little girl’s temper since she was a child.
She might be respectfully calling him you now, but who knew how much resentment she was bottling up inside? She’d probably cursed him a dozen times already.
Back then, she’d complain after walking only a few steps, demanding to be carried or given a piggyback ride.
Now her family had fallen apart.
She had endured several days and nights on the train, followed by another bumpy journey to reach this place.
Not once had she complained.
Not once had she cried.
He looked her over.
Her fair little hands were marked red where the luggage straps had dug into them.
Her aching lower back kept trying to bend forward. Whenever she thought no one was watching, she’d secretly pound it twice with her fist before hurriedly standing up straight again.
Her lips trembled.
Her eyes were red with unshed tears.
She looked as though she wanted desperately to cry, yet stubbornly bit her lip until she forced the tears back.
Still such a pampered little thing.
The fact that she’d managed to endure this much already was impressive enough.
Too tired to keep holding old grudges against a child, Song Tingyue unscrewed his fountain pen and swiftly wrote three characters onto a cardboard pass:
Wen Jianing.
He handed it to her.
“Forget the kowtow. I’d rather not have you shortening my lifespan.”
“Keep your entry pass safe. The guards check it whenever you enter or leave the compound.”
“If you lose it, that’s your own responsibility.”
“Come with me first. We’ll put your luggage away, then I’ll take you to the mess hall.”
“I’m not hungry.”
She truly had no appetite.
“You’ll eat anyway.”
His tone left no room for argument.
“People live on food. When it’s mealtime, you eat.”
“Now that you’re on my turf, you follow my rules.”
He stood up, his gaze falling on her pointed, noticeably thinner chin.
His voice was firm and unyielding.
Jianing’s chest tightened.
He used to spoil her endlessly.
Even when speaking to her, he’d lower his voice and speak with gentle patience.
But now…
She looked up at the man towering a full head above her.
Broad shoulders.
A powerful back.
Standing there like an immovable wall.
His military uniform stretched tightly over solid muscle, every line of his physique clearly defined.
Her gaze drifted over the scar across the back of his hand before returning to the sharp features weathered by years of wind and sand.
He still looked like the brother she remembered.
And yet…
Everything had changed.
She lowered her eyes, overwhelmed by emotions she couldn’t untangle.
Just as she bent down to pick up her luggage, a hand reached in ahead of her.
With one effortless motion, Song Tingyue lifted both the suitcase and duffel bag in one hand.
The muscles along his forearm flexed, veins standing out beneath tanned skin.
Without looking back, he simply said,
“Keep up.”
His long strides covered twice the distance of hers.
She had to hurry to catch up, placing one hand lightly on the duffel.
“Thank you. I can carry it myself.”
Before she’d left home, her mother had reminded her again and again:
Be sweet when you speak.
Learn to read the room.
Forget all those spoiled-young-lady habits.
And above all:
Things aren’t the same anymore.
Once, Song Tingyue had been the one living under someone else’s roof.
Now the roles had been completely reversed.
She was the one who had to depend on someone else’s goodwill.
Still walking ahead, Song Tingyue didn’t even acknowledge her polite protest.
“Helping ordinary people solve their problems is a soldier’s duty.”
“It’s just carrying a bag. It’s no big deal.”
“As for you…”
“The few steps from the bus stop to the registration office already had you panting every other breath. If we let you carry this at that pace, it’ll be dark before we reach the family quarters.”