Ruan An’an rubbed the dust off her hands on her pant legs and gave a dry chuckle. “Running around this late? Hard work, comrade!”
She couldn’t help but think: what time is it? Trying to kill me, huh?
The guard straightened his back like he was reporting military intelligence. “Report, Comrade Ruan! The Political Commissar is concerned you might not manage in time, and has ordered me to deliver these tonight without fail!”
“Well, that’s… really ‘thank you’ to your commissar!”
Ruan An’an emphasized the word thank you sharply.
No greetings, and the tickets were just issued? So she’s basically a piece of property, to be pointed and moved wherever?
She had pedaled that old 28-inch bike across half of Haishi today, her calves cramping from all the cycling.
And tomorrow, she was supposed to cram into a hard wooden seat for three straight days and nights? Even a steel butt couldn’t take that.
The guard snapped a salute. “Duty calls! Farewell, Comrade Ruan!”
He turned to leave, then froze, looking back at her suspiciously. “Comrade Ruan, so late… where have you just come from?” His gaze was like a spotlight.
Ruan An’an’s heart skipped. She forced a sorrowful expression, sighing long and heavy. “Felt a little stifled… needed to get some air, feel the wind.”
She brushed at the corner of her eyes, pretending to hold back grief.
“Oh. My condolences. Goodbye!”
The guard didn’t ask further, jumped into the military-green jeep, and drove off with a roar.
“Phew—” A thin layer of sweat formed on Ruan An’an’s back. She darted into the small garden and locked the gate with a click.
That was close! Soldiers really had sharp eyes.
There wasn’t much to tidy up inside anyway.
She quickly took a shower, roughly stuffed a few frequently worn clothes into a half-worn rattan trunk, and that was that.
The rest? Her treasured “warehouse” had everything she could ever need.
Wrapped in a towel, with wet hair dripping, Ruan An’an flopped into the old sofa beside the bed. She bit viciously into a piece of chocolate.
She picked up the net bag the guard had delivered and dumped it onto the bed.
Six neatly stacked kraft-paper envelopes.
The first: a letter of introduction issued by the military district.
Ruan An’an pinched it. Thin as it was, it served as a “travel pass” in these times.
Haishi was relatively lax; she’d heard that in some northern areas, even attending a market required a team-issued permit. How suffocating!
The second envelope made her frown the moment she pulled it out—
It was the attachment approving her marriage application, stamped in red!
One copy, the other probably telegraphed to Xu Yanchen.
“Pfft!” She couldn’t help rolling her eyes, shaking the paper so it rustled loudly.
“Well, efficiency’s impressive! Haven’t even met face to face, and it’s already ‘approved marriage’?”
Oh well, consider it a talisman—better to have it than not.
The third envelope was plump. She tipped it out—an array of colorful tickets: national grain coupons, cloth coupons, sugar coupons… heavy stuff!
In these days, nationwide coupons were rare. The wives in the military district probably dug up their reserves for her.
This favor was weighty indeed.
The fourth envelope contained a neatly written note detailing all the train and ferry transfers to the island, along with the name and phone number of the lodgings.
Ruan An’an carefully put it aside. Such timely help would be repaid once she reached the island.
The fifth envelope was from the textile factory, containing a thick stack of pension tickets. Counting quickly, just over a hundred.
Stamped on the envelope: “Compensation Allowance.”
Ruan An’an scoffed. “Hah, Xu Yanli’s salary? Using dead people’s money to curry favor—how fake!”
She tossed the money back in casually.
The last envelope was the thinnest, yet heaviest. She shook it out—three telegrams, all from Nansha Island.
The first: just two words, sharp and commanding: “Report immediately!”
The second: three words, still icy: “Depart yet?”
The third finally had more words, but the tone was like issuing a military order: “Please assist Comrade Ruan with introduction letters and train tickets. Xu Yanchen.”
Ruan An’an flipped the three telegrams over and over, scrutinizing each word three times.
Done! All those thoughts of childhood friends, deep bonds—they were lies!
Xu Yanchen hadn’t considered the original owner at all.
Otherwise, could he be so overbearing? Marriage approval issued at will, departure times decided with no consultation.
No say at all?
Late-stage male chauvinism! Hopeless! Pathetic! So frustrating!
The angrier Ruan An’an got, the more she crumpled the telegrams into a ball and threw them into the corner.
She vented by biting off most of the chocolate chunk, the sweetness sticking in her throat only adding to her irritation.
What kind of woman did Xu Yanchen like? Need to guess? Obviously someone like Su Qingyue!
Delicate, white-lotus type, blown over by a breeze, a man sees her and wants to protect her.
Otherwise, could he have risked his life just to save her?
But… Ruan An’an licked the chocolate off her lips, eyes glinting with cunning ruthlessness.
No matter.
Life’s a play, and acting is everything.
The white-lotus act? She couldn’t pull it off, and didn’t care to try.
The black-hearted lotus? That she knew all too well!
That Xu fellow, to her, was at most a “rock to lean on in the wind and rain.”
Counting time, this ridiculous “movement” would last six years.
Six years! Get through it, and the sky’s the limit!
Then, she’d return to Haishi, continuing her spoiled-lady life.
As for that “stinky rock”?
Hmph! Before leaving, she’d toss him a couple of small yellow croakers, let him dig a big pond and grow white lotuses—let him enjoy it!
At the Fourth Naval Regiment family quarters on Nansha Island, Xu Yanchen sat on a hard-wood sofa, back straight as a spear, hands neatly on his knees.
Night wind blew in from the open window, carrying the salty tang of the sea.
“Ah—choo!” Unexpectedly, he sneezed loudly.
His sharply defined, soldierly face briefly showed a rare embarrassment.
Zhu Lijuan, principal of the military district elementary school, carrying two cups of hot tea, couldn’t help smiling. “Captain Xu, the wind on the island at night is a bit… harsh. Don’t catch a chill.”
Her tone was familiar, teasing.
Beside her, Major Qi Chang’an, wearing reading glasses and holding a newspaper, lowered it, eyes behind the lenses smiling: “Young Xu, there’s no need to rush this transfer. You can’t eat hot tofu in a hurry. Our school needs a sister-in-law with cultural skills like hers. The position will be waiting—don’t worry!”
Zhu Lijuan placed a tea cup in front of Xu Yanchen and nodded. “Old Qi is right. Rest assured, once Comrade Ruan arrives, I’ll immediately handle her transfer paperwork.”
Xu Yanchen exhaled silently, letting out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding.
“Thank you, chief! Thank you, madam!” His voice was low, slightly dry. “I… won’t disturb you two further.”
He stood sharply, gave a flawless military salute, and strode out, disappearing into the night.
Zhu Lijuan glanced at the items he’d brought—
Two bottles of Da Qianmen liquor, a bottle of Xifeng liquor, and carefully wrapped pastries and sweets.
“Old Qi, you think with Xu Yanchen’s stubborn nature, could he… handle a delicate young lady from Haishi? Can she endure our rough island life? And their family quarters…”
She pursed her lips, leaving the rest unsaid. The meaning was clear.
Not just the regiment commander’s wife—even she, the general’s wife, would have to tread carefully in that courtyard.
Those ladies were formidable!
She really worried that the pampered capitalist daughter, once here, would end up in tears.
Qi Chang’an removed his glasses, rubbed his nose, lowering his voice. “Hard to say. But Old Li sent word from Haishi: Comrade Ruan… looks fragile, but her bones are strong. Not someone to be pushed around.”
He paused, then looked at his wife. “Once she arrives, take some of our dried fish, kelp, and such to welcome her, help her settle in, and… give a little guidance. That stubborn little Xu actually realized to send gifts—well, that’s a miracle.”
Every word floated through the slightly open door of the second-floor room.
Qi Sisi gripped the doorframe, nails digging almost into the wood.
What? Yanchen-ge is marrying someone?!
Her beautiful face twisted with anger; the carefully ironed cloth skirt she’d prepared was now crumpled in her hands.
Why?! Yanchen-ge was hers! Since childhood!
But… so what if he’s married?
A flash of ruthless cunning passed through Qi Sisi’s eyes, mismatched with her sweet exterior.
A delicate, useless capitalist daughter? On this island…
If she could survive even a week here, all those years of free oysters had been worth it!