Chapter Forty-Nine: Cold Without, Warm Within

The conversation between the two elders revolved entirely around Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan. Both families were eagerly awaiting the couple’s wedding, hoping to settle the matter and put their hearts at ease. Today, especially, Shen Ruxin had brought little Keke along—a sweet, well-behaved girl who was impossible not to adore. Mrs. Cheng, in particular, was smitten; her anticipation for grandchildren far outpaced that of Mrs. Xin.

Xin Gan had only recently graduated and was still young, so there was no rush for her. Shen Ruxin hadn’t yet told Mrs. Xin that Xin Gan had already booked a flight for the evening, especially with Mrs. Cheng still present.

Mrs. Cheng, delighted with Keke, had even brought gifts, which, judging by the elegant wrapping, were expensive. Mrs. Xin, recognizing this at once, hurried to refuse. “This gift is too valuable. Keke is just a child—we really can’t accept it.”

“It’s nothing, really, just a small token,” Mrs. Cheng replied.

“It’s not appropriate. She’s so young—she can’t just accept gifts for nothing.” Mrs. Xin was not the type to accept favors easily, especially from Mrs. Cheng. It felt awkward to take a gift without reason.

Shen Ruxin quickly picked up on the discomfort and tried to hand the gift back. “Mrs. Cheng, you’re too kind. It’s too generous—we really can’t accept it.”

Back and forth they went, until Mrs. Cheng, with a gentle smile, insisted, “We’re soon to be family—there’s no need to stand on ceremony. And truly, it’s only a little something to express my affection.”

To refuse further would have been to embarrass Mrs. Cheng. Shen Ruxin glanced at Mrs. Xin and said, “Then we’re really very embarrassed.”

“No need for that. I truly like Keke. Once Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan have children, Keke will have siblings. She’ll need to help take care of them in the future.”

With the matter settled, Shen Ruxin lifted Keke and said, “Keke, Mrs. Cheng has given you a present. What do you say?”

Keke, quick-witted as ever, sweetly replied, “Thank you, Grandma Cheng.”

Mrs. Cheng beamed, her eyes crinkling kindly. She beckoned Keke over. “Come here, Keke, let Grandma Cheng hold you.”

Keke scampered over, careful not to dirty Mrs. Cheng’s clothes, and sat quietly in her lap. Mrs. Cheng, looking her over, asked, “Keke, tell Grandma Cheng, what kind of cake do you like? I’ll buy it for you.”

Mrs. Xin and Shen Ruxin couldn’t help but smile at the scene. Shen Ruxin, wary that Keke might get carried away with the indulgence, gently reminded her, “Keke, tell Grandma Cheng what you like, but don’t be greedy, all right? Moderation is important.”

With Keke’s presence, the atmosphere was cheerful and light. At home, Song Chen doted on Keke, fulfilling her every wish. Shen Ruxin worried that Keke would be spoiled, especially since she was sharper than Shen Ruxin expected. She was afraid the little one would come up with some mischief for Mrs. Cheng.

At that moment, Mrs. Cheng genuinely adored Keke. The child’s loveliness and good manners prompted her to start talking about Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan again. After a moment’s thought, she turned to Mrs. Xin. “Actually, I still have some concerns about those two.”

Mrs. Xin put down her tea and sighed softly. “I worry, too. Times have changed—young people nowadays all make their own decisions about marriage.”

Of course, in some powerful families, business alliances still existed, where marriages were arranged for the sake of the family business, even without affection. But the Chengs had no such need. In fact, Cheng Jiu’s marriage had long been decreed by the family patriarch; unless he relented, Cheng Jiu couldn’t marry anyone else.

“Xin Gan is a wonderful girl—intelligent and sensible, and just graduated. My main worry is that Cheng Jiu isn’t good enough for her,” Mrs. Cheng said.

Keke, not understanding the adult conversation but hearing Xin Gan’s name mentioned several times, wriggled down from Mrs. Cheng’s lap and climbed into Shen Ruxin’s. “Mommy, Keke needs to go potty.”

Shen Ruxin scooped Keke up and left for the restroom, leaving Mrs. Cheng and Mrs. Xin alone to speak more freely.

Mrs. Cheng’s comment that Cheng Jiu wasn’t worthy was a humble turn of phrase. She was genuinely concerned that Xin Gan might mind the age gap—Cheng Jiu was significantly older and had no intention of returning to Yongcheng soon. He needed more experience to pave the way for his eventual transfer back. Thirty was not old in his profession, but it would be years before he could settle down.

Mrs. Xin understood. “I know what you mean. If it weren’t for the engagement set long ago, my husband and I wouldn’t interfere in Xin Gan’s affairs, especially matters of the heart.”

“I understand. Xin Gan studied abroad and sees things differently—the concept of childhood betrothals is absurd to me, too. But it was decreed by the elders, so what can we do?” said Mrs. Cheng.

Mrs. Xin sipped her tea in silence. Mrs. Cheng continued, “There’s nothing to be done now but accept it and do our best. I truly like Xin Gan, and if Cheng Jiu marries her, it will be a blessing for us. I just want to know how Xin Gan feels. If she has any objections, please help guide her. There’s plenty of time, and if the two of them come together of their own free will, it will be a fine match.”

Mrs. Xin nodded thoughtfully. “I understand. I’ll talk with Xin Gan when I get home.”

When Shen Ruxin returned with Keke, Mrs. Cheng received a call from home and had to leave, apologizing repeatedly and making arrangements for another meeting. Mrs. Xin agreed, and only after confirming did Mrs. Cheng take her leave.

After Mrs. Cheng left, Shen Ruxin asked, “Auntie, what did Mrs. Cheng talk to you about?”

“Still Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan’s marriage,” Mrs. Xin replied.

“Oh?”

“She said she worried Cheng Jiu wasn’t good enough for Xin Gan, but I think she’s more concerned about Xin Gan’s youth and inexperience.”

Shen Ruxin was puzzled. “Why would she think that? Because Xin Gan studied abroad?”

“Maybe.”

“It’s a different era. Xin Gan isn’t that kind of person. She’s never even had a boyfriend. Mrs. Cheng’s worries are a bit much.”

Shen Ruxin and Mrs. Xin could speak candidly with each other in the absence of Mrs. Cheng.

“Oh, by the way, how is Xin Gan doing in Beiyu? Did she tell you?” Mrs. Xin asked.

Shen Ruxin scratched her ear, watching Keke now unwrapping her gift. “Auntie, I have to be honest with you—Xin Gan’s coming back tonight.”

Mrs. Xin nearly jumped up. “Why so suddenly? When did she decide? Why didn’t she tell us?”

“Don’t worry, Auntie. Xin Gan hasn’t been feeling well over there—she’s had allergies, can’t sleep, and gets sick often. Every time I called her, she was either coughing or had a cold. I just couldn’t bear it, so I told her to come home first. There’s no rush to build a relationship. She’s already met Cheng Jiu. The rest can wait until he comes back. Her health comes first, doesn’t it?”

On hearing Xin Gan was ill, Mrs. Xin became anxious. “How serious is it?”

“You don’t know? To tell you the truth, Xin Gan’s health has never been great, and Beiyu’s harsh conditions—so high up on the plateau—just don’t suit her.”

After all, she was her own daughter. “It’s just as well she comes back. She’s been there a while now.”

Shen Ruxin let out a breath of relief. “That’s what I thought too.”

“What time is her flight? I’ll go pick her up.”

“No need, Auntie. Song Chen and I will go.”

“All right, then. Does Cheng Jiu know?”

“He should.” Though Shen Ruxin wasn’t entirely certain; she knew the situation between Xin Gan and Cheng Jiu.

Keke, having overheard, shouted, “Auntie is coming back?”

“Yes, Keke. Are you happy?”

Keke nodded vigorously.

Mrs. Xin’s face was a mix of joy and worry. She fretted for Xin Gan’s health and felt guilty, thinking that everything would be well upon her return, only for the old engagement to rear its head once more.

...

Xin Gan’s sore throat grew worse—she must have caught a chill somewhere. She simply wasn’t used to Beiyu’s climate, which switched from hot to cold in an instant. In the two short months she’d been here, she’d already faced several dangers, including that one night when she was attacked at gunpoint on the road. For the first time, she’d felt death so close.

Cheng Jiu, on the other hand, was used to such a life. He’d once told her, if he were ever to die in the line of duty after they married, what would become of her?

She didn’t know, and in truth, she’d never considered being with him in the first place.

Even so, she didn’t wish him any harm.

Setting aside personal feelings, Xin Gan was calm enough. She didn’t dislike Cheng Jiu; in fact, if he’d agree to break off the engagement, they could still be friends—or, if not friends, at least remain strangers.

But Cheng Jiu thought differently.

It irked Xin Gan, the inconsistency in his words and actions.

But all that could wait until she returned to Yongcheng.

By four in the afternoon, Xin Gan was ready to leave for the airport. Cheng Jiu had called ten minutes earlier, promising to drive her, though she’d have to wait a bit longer—his car had just been repaired, and he was on his way to pick it up.

Since he was already making the effort, Xin Gan couldn’t refuse. It would be awkward to make a scene now.

She wanted to resolve things peacefully, to avoid a messy confrontation.

The landlady saw her with her suitcase, came over for a chat, and offered to settle payment with Captain Cheng, since he was the one who’d been covering the rent. His salary wasn’t high, and while the allowances helped, it wasn’t much in the end. Xin Gan didn’t want to freeload, planning to pay him back some of the expenses, but knowing he’d refuse, she thought she’d find another way.

She hated owing people—it left her feeling guilty.

Cheng Jiu soon finished his business and came over to carry her luggage. Xin Gan tried to do it herself, but he wouldn’t let her, lifting the suitcase straight into the car.

This only heightened her sense of indebtedness.

She couldn’t say exactly why.

Once in the car, Cheng Jiu drove without needing navigation, but Xin Gan, unfamiliar with the roads, instinctively opened her phone’s map app. The welcome message startled her, making her glance nervously at the driver’s seat—Cheng Jiu hadn’t noticed, but she felt even more flustered.

The car sped steadily toward the airport.

As Xin Gan drifted off in thought, Cheng Jiu suddenly asked, “Afraid I’ll take a detour and make you miss your flight?”

Xin Gan pressed her lips together. “No.”

“I’m not that petty, Xin Gan.”

She wanted to protest but realized it was pointless, so she simply turned off the navigation and reassured herself that she didn’t really doubt him.

It was still daylight around four or five o’clock, the sky bright with blue and clouds and a boundless horizon. She was really leaving, and already she felt she couldn’t take in enough of the beautiful sky. If only the nights weren’t so cold, she would have loved it here.

Cheng Jiu lit a cigarette, filling the car with smoke; Xin Gan immediately started coughing, her throat burning. Cheng Jiu stubbed out the cigarette.

After a while, Xin Gan felt better.

Cheng Jiu, watching her reflection in the rearview mirror—her face flushed, looking unwell—asked, “Are you always this fragile?”

“Hmm?” Xin Gan responded.

“Do you ever exercise?”

“Does walking count?”

He smirked. “You might as well not mention it.”

“You asked.”

“So, what do you think—slow walks or fast ones?”

She coughed again, covering her mouth, tears springing to her eyes.

Cheng Jiu handed her a bottle of water. “Don’t come to the plateau unless you’re healthy enough. If you want to come, get in shape first.”

Xin Gan replied, “I only came because of you.”

“Oh, to break off the engagement, right?”

The topic was inevitable.

She didn’t deny it. “Yes.”

Cheng Jiu swallowed his words. “It’s not up to me alone. I’ve spoken to my family, but they said it was an agreement between the grandfathers and cannot be broken for any reason.”

“Why not?”

“Ask your grandfather when you get home.”

“Can’t you tell me?”

“Would you believe me? You didn’t just trust me—you even opened the navigation,” he said, his expression hard.

Xin Gan opened her mouth to explain, then gave up.

It didn’t matter—she was leaving anyway.

Cheng Jiu was in no better mood. Her eagerness to leave made it seem as if he’d mistreated her, though, in truth, he’d done nothing. Still, she wasn’t safe here, and he couldn’t always protect her. With so much going on, it was better for her to return to Yongcheng.

But even knowing this, he was annoyed. He was hardly lacking in looks or character—why was Xin Gan so indifferent? Did she really prefer someone like He Cheng?

Just thinking of He Cheng made Cheng Jiu remember how Xin Gan had called his name even in her sleep. What was their relationship, really? The more he thought about it, the darker his expression grew. When he was serious, his subordinates were intimidated.

Xin Gan was intimidated, too. She’d never dealt with someone like Cheng Jiu and couldn’t figure him out.

So she chose silence.

At that moment, Shen Ruxin sent her a message, telling her that Mrs. Xin and Mrs. Cheng had met and discussed her and Cheng Jiu.

Xin Gan replied instantly: Cousin, does my mom know I’m coming back?

A minute later, Shen Ruxin wrote: She knows—couldn’t keep it from her. I already told her, but don’t worry, she’s not angry. She understands and agrees. Song Chen and I will pick you up tonight. We’ll talk more then. Are you on your way to the airport?

She replied: On the way now, Cheng Jiu is driving me.

Shen Ruxin: Text me when you get to the airport, so I can prepare to pick you up.

Xin Gan: I’ll arrive in Yongcheng around seven tomorrow morning.

Shen Ruxin: Okay, travel safe. Let me know when you board.

Just as Xin Gan was about to reply, a notification popped up on her phone—a chat from an account with an English username.

She frowned on seeing the name, hesitated, and opened the chat. The sender had sent a photo of her reading a book, taken in profile at her university in London, the European-style architecture unmistakable in the background.

Another photo came—a series of candid shots: in class, strolling on campus, feeding pigeons at the city square, swinging in a park.

Xin Gan’s frown deepened. She typed a terse message: ‘Don’t you have anything better to do?’

There was no reply.

She deleted the chat and blocked the sender.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Thinking of this person unsettled her, but at least she was home now. In China, he wouldn’t dare act out.

An hour later, they reached the airport. Xin Gan got out and went to the trunk for her luggage. Cheng Jiu stepped out, glanced at her, but said nothing.

Still, Xin Gan offered, “Thank you.”

Whatever else, she owed him that.

He finally responded, “Send me a message when you arrive in Yongcheng.”

She paused, then said, “All right.”

Neither spoke further.

She glanced at the repaired SUV nearby—the rear window had been replaced. She couldn’t help but remind him, “Take care of yourself.”

Despite her insistence on ending their engagement, she still cared for his safety. She wished him well.

Cheng Jiu nodded. “Go on in.”

The wind was strong. She picked up her suitcase and walked toward the airport entrance, never looking back.