Having heard his grandfather talk about it countless times growing up, Jiang Heng was no stranger to his betrothed. But when he’d discussed it with He Yongyan, he’d joked that even if she stood right in front of him, they probably wouldn’t recognize each other.
Yet unexpectedly, as he passed through the alley and found the tea house Chang Fangze had mentioned, the moment he stepped inside, he knew immediately—that was Ning Qiao.
As if crossing a vast stretch of time, they should have met long ago.
But the memories were too blurry—fleeting fragments that slipped away before he could grasp them.
Ning Qiao chewed slowly on her sour jujube cake, her puffed cheeks gradually returning to normal. The man in front of her had already handed her a clean, crisp handkerchief.
She didn’t take it right away, thinking to herself: He’s so handsome, and he’s so kind too.
Jiang Heng gazed at Ning Qiao, trying to piece together the fragments in his mind—until Jiao Chunyu’s voice broke in.
“Comrade?”
He snapped back to the present: “I’m Jiang Heng.”
Jiao Chunyu was stunned for a second, then visibly thrilled, tugging urgently at Ning Qiao’s sleeve.
Ning Qiao swallowed the last bite of her jujube cake and stared fixedly at him.
“Qiaoqiao, look who’s here!” Jiao Chunyu said.
Ning Qiao let out a soft “Ah,” as if moving in slow motion, and dazedly stood up.
This was her fiancé?
The young girl looked astonished. She reached up to wipe the tear stains from the corners of her eyes, then used her hand to wipe the crumbs from her mouth.
Jiang Heng’s stern brows and eyes softened with a hint of a smile. His hand, still hovering in midair, lifted slightly, his gaze indicating the handkerchief he’d offered.
Ning Qiao took it with both hands, her ears burning and her cheeks flushing a faint pink.
“Hello, comrade. I’m Ning Qiao.”
Jiang Heng’s voice was low and carried a smile: “I recognized you.”
The two stood face to face.
The male comrade in uniform was tall; the young girl was petite—a striking contrast.
Jiao Chunyu watched them for a moment.
If she didn’t interrupt, they might just stand there forever, lost in each other.
Though they were about to become husband and wife, this was their first meeting—they weren’t even a proper couple yet.
As the sister-in-law, Jiao Chunyu knew exactly how to break the ice and lighten the mood.
She asked Jiang Heng about his situation—how he’d suddenly come to Ancheng, whether he’d met the elders yet, and so on.
Jiao Chunyu was around the same age as him, but she leaned on her status as sister-in-law, speaking with a gentle tone, half-worried that her future brother-in-law might feel awkward. To her surprise, when he met her gaze, the military bearing was back in full force—and she found herself a little intimidated.
She cleared her throat and guiltily looked away: “Little sister wanted more of that sour jujube cake earlier, didn’t she? I’ll go buy some.”
“Let me,” Jiang Heng said, taking over.
“There’s no need—”
Before Ning Qiao could finish, he had already strode over to the tea house counter to ask the server.
A ray of sunlight streamed through the small window. Jiang Heng leaned forward slightly, taking the menu the server handed him. His profile was sharp and stern, his gaze focused as he scanned the options. After choosing, he pulled out ration tickets and a ten-yuan note.
“Little sister.” Jiao Chunyu waved her hand in front of Ning Qiao’s face. “Little sister!”
Ning Qiao blinked, then looped her arm through her sister-in-law’s and said in a soft, coaxing voice, “I heard you. Don’t yell.”
Jiao Chunyu narrowed her eyes.
Was this love at first sight?
The young girl had been uncertain about marriage. She’d agreed to it mostly as a way to find a stable place for herself.
Before this, she had seen Jiang Heng’s photo and heard her father praise him endlessly. She’d felt some anticipation, but she was still muddled.
What she hadn’t expected was that the moment she saw him in person, something seemed to tickle her heart.
A flicker of youthful romance quietly sprouted within her—faint, but real.
On the way home, they walked side by side.
He was courteous and well-mannered. Ning Qiao didn’t know what to say, so she just stole glances at him from time to time. Whenever she got caught, she’d whip her head back around as if she’d done something wrong.
Jiang Heng looked at her. His initial reluctance had begun to fade at some point.
Her eyes were downcast, strands of hair by her forehead gently stirring in the breeze. Her skin was fair, her cheeks tinged with a soft pink. Though their engagement was a blind marriage in every sense, he had to admit—Ning Qiao was very pretty. He didn’t know whether the unusual feeling in his heart at that moment came from this unexpected beauty, or from those elusive, unexplainable “memories.”
The aunties in the compound gathered in small groups, chatting about the new development they’d witnessed at the Ning house.
Feng Jingyun, Old Zhou’s wife, had said earlier that Ning Qiao’s fiancé was top-notch in looks, height, and education—and that turned out to be no exaggeration.
“The presence of a military comrade is just different. The first time I saw that young man, I didn’t even dare breathe too loudly.”
“It’s not just about him being in the military—the young soldier he brought, and the other comrades who came in the military vehicle, they all felt different from him.”
“Old Zhou’s wife, how did you know about the man’s family background?”
Feng Jingyun scratched her head.
She’d just been upset with Zhao Hongying and made up a bunch of nonsense.
And somehow, it had all turned out to be true.
Feeling guilty, she avoided the question and changed the subject: “So the Ning family’s son-in-law was even brought here in a military vehicle?”
“Absolutely! The kids in the compound were all staring in awe. A few little ones ran to the gate to look and even wanted to touch the wheels.”
“This time the Nings have really outdone themselves. When Fangze and Director Ning came back together just now, they were both smiling so hard their eyes were practically slits.”
“No wonder they’re happy. You didn’t hear the awful things Guangmin’s mother was saying earlier.”
“What did she say?”
An auntie who hadn’t taken sides at the time immediately lowered her voice and mimicked Yu Cuiman’s tone in a mocking way.
“My son can find someone better than Ning Qiao. Ning Qiao, on the other hand—not so much.”
“If the man weren’t somehow lacking, would they be so secretive? Which family marries off a daughter like this, practically giving her away?”
“An older man knows how to cherish a wife.”
Everyone clicked their tongues in amazement.
Thank goodness Director Ning and his wife had seen through the Lin family right away. Otherwise, if they’d married their daughter into that household, she’d have had nothing but trouble in the future.
Aunt Liu, Engineer Qin’s wife, had been hanging around with the crowd listening in. A few days ago, when others in the compound were singing Ning Qiao’s praises, she’d wondered—who on earth would want to marry a little princess like that? Now, to her surprise, everyone was fighting over this very “princess.”
“The factory director’s son and a military officer are both fighting over her—turns out good looks really can be a meal ticket,” Aunt Liu murmured.
“Of course,” Aunt Fat chimed in. “Both the daughter and the son-in-law are stunning. If I were Fangze, I’d have such an appetite at dinner that I’d go for a second bowl of rice!”
Everyone burst out laughing.
The lively chatter drifted farther and farther away. None of them knew that in the small single-story house at the westernmost edge of the compound, Yu Cuiman was fuming, her face livid. She slammed the window shut and even stuffed newspapers into the cracks of the door.
At her age, she had never been so humiliated.
“Is he really that handsome—” Aunt Liu said skeptically.
Just as she spoke those words, someone else who didn’t believe it either happened to be returning from the state-run restaurant—Lin Guangmin.
His shift had been unbearable. The head chef in the kitchen had promised his father he’d teach him everything, but once Lin Guangmin actually started, the man held back. He wouldn’t let him near the wok and made him chop scallions instead, claiming it was to practice his knife skills.
What kind of skill could you develop chopping scallions? Lin Guangmin had gotten into a fight with the chef, who said he was aiming too high too soon. As the factory director’s son, he’d never been lectured like that before. Add to that his failed pursuit of love, and he’d lost his temper—ripped off his work uniform and walked out.
Lin Guangmin had rushed home with a belly full of anger, but the moment he entered the compound, his fury only grew—because he heard those sharp, piercing voices echoing through the yard.
“Is Guangmin really not as good as that military officer?”
“Honestly? No. Guangmin has a factory director for a father and a decent-sounding job, and on his own he’s not bad. But compared to Ning Qiao’s fiancé—looks? Loses. Height? Loses. Presence? Definitely loses…”
“Guangmin’s so slight—he’d have to crane his neck just to look up at Ning Qiao’s man.”
“Keep it down! Gossiping behind the factory director’s back—aren’t you afraid your husbands will get retaliated against at work?”
“We’re all friends here. It’s not like it’ll get back to the director.”
“Enough, enough. Let’s disperse.”
Lin Guangmin hid behind a big tree, well out of sight. No one noticed him.
Then again—he was so slight.
Every word was a jab against him.
Every compliment about Ning Qiao’s fiancé stabbed him like a needle right in the heart. Lin Guangmin felt utterly humiliated, yet he refused to believe it.
His mother had told him he was handsome and well-presented. That Ning Qiao’s rejection of him meant she’d had to settle for someone else.
The crowd in the compound dispersed.
Lin Guangmin emerged from behind the tree, his face dark.
He wanted to go home, but something compelled him to glance toward the Ning family’s house.
As he looked at their gate, he let out a bitter laugh. What right did he have to be hanging around here?
He gritted his teeth and turned to leave.
But suddenly, his heart began to pound.
He saw a soldier walk out of the Ning house.
Not as old as his mother had said. Lean and scrawny, fair-skinned—like a weak scholar.
Lin Guangmin sneered. This was the so-called “dignified officer” everyone was raving about? This?
Xiao Liang stood with his hands clasped behind his back in the Ning family’s yard, kicking a pebble around.
Why wasn’t Battalion Commander Jiang back yet?
Not that he was eager to see his superior—he just wanted to see what kind of female comrade the usually aloof Battalion Commander Jiang would end up marrying.
Bored out of his mind, he yawned—and before he could close his mouth, he spotted a figure.
The man wore glasses and was staring at him with cold, hostile eyes.
Then, the man curled the corner of his lips.
At this point, Lin Guangmin no longer wanted to crawl into a hole.
It was the Nings who were blind.
And the compound’s gossipers were only singing this officer’s praises because his uniform gilded him with glory.
Not winning the girl wasn’t his fault.
What a pity for Ning Qiao.
Lin Guangmin wore the same contemptuous expression as his mother, Yu Cuiman. He gave Xiao Liang a once-over from head to toe, then turned to leave.
Xiao Liang: ?
Xiao Liang was baffled, but he didn’t have time to dwell on it—because at that moment, he caught sight of a graceful figure.
Not far away, the petite young girl stood beside Battalion Commander Jiang, who had broad shoulders and long legs. Together, they made the most beautiful scene.
He waved his arms and called out joyfully: “Battalion Commander Jiang!”
Lin Guangmin casually looked over.
The contempt on his face froze completely.
Leave a Reply