Chapter Fifty-Two: Better Not

Xin Gan couldn’t go back, so she explained the general situation to Shen Ruxin. On the other end of the line, Shen Ruxin mulled it over for a while before asking, “Xin Xin, how do you feel about him?”

Xin Gan hadn’t expected such a question and was caught off guard, pausing for several seconds. “I don’t feel anything in particular,” she replied.

“Xin Xin, can’t you be honest with me?” Shen Ruxin pressed.

Xin Gan sighed softly. “Cousin, I don’t want to get married so soon, and besides, Cheng Jiu and I aren’t really suitable for each other.”

Shen Ruxin said, “When I reached out to Cheng Jiu this morning to ask him to help find you, he seemed quite concerned—at least that’s my impression. But of course, it’s mainly about what you think.”

To avoid provoking Xin Gan’s rebellious side, Shen Ruxin spoke gently and with tact.

Xin Gan stayed silent for over ten seconds. She walked to the window, opened it, and gazed into the night outside. Looking down, she saw Cheng Jiu’s car still parked in the yard—he hadn’t left.

“Cousin, Uncle Cheng is coming to Beiyu to see Cheng Jiu. I’ll have to stay a few more days and can’t come back for now.”

Shen Ruxin nodded. “I know what you want to say. I’ll explain everything to your mother. Just take care of yourself. If you’re not feeling well, don’t go out for walks—just rest indoors and recover. If you really feel unwell, go to the hospital. Don’t be afraid of the inconvenience, just go.”

“All right, I understand, cousin.”

Cheng Jiu didn’t leave immediately. He sat in his car for about ten minutes, only driving off after seeing Xin Gan’s lights turn off upstairs.

It was too late for Shen Ruxin to call Xin Gan’s mother that night, so she waited until the next day. When she explained the situation over the phone, Xin Gan’s mother asked, “What’s going on? First she’s coming back, then she’s not. Did something happen between her and Cheng Jiu?”

Fearing that Xin Gan’s mother would overthink, Shen Ruxin reassured her, “Nothing like that. Xin Xin is so even-tempered; she wouldn’t have a falling out with anyone.”

Xin Gan’s mother sighed. “Ruxin, there’s no need to comfort me with those words. Don’t I know my own daughter? She keeps everything to herself and never tells us.”

“Really, there’s nothing to worry about. Besides, I’m keeping an eye on things. I’ll keep in touch with Xin Xin, chat with her, and ask how she’s doing. Don’t worry.”

“Then keep an eye out. Let us know if anything comes up.”

After calming Xin Gan’s mother, Shen Ruxin hung up, her palms damp with sweat.

…

Cheng Jiu’s father arrived at the airport by plane the next afternoon. Cheng Jiu didn’t have time to pick him up, so he sent Xiao Shi instead.

Xiao Shi was nervous; it was his first time meeting Cheng Jiu’s family. In all the years Cheng Jiu had been in Beiyu, his family had never visited, and he rarely spoke about them. None of them knew much about his family, let alone that he had a fiancée.

Cheng Jiu’s father had his own agenda for coming. On the way, he coaxed information out of Xiao Shi. Intimidated by the older man’s imposing air and cunning questions, Xiao Shi ended up telling him the general situation.

Cheng Jiu’s father was no fool; he came straightaway to gather information, especially about Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan.

Cheng Jiu didn’t get back to the unit until after nine that night. As soon as he returned, Xiao Shi told him his father was in the canteen, chatting with Captain Meng.

Captain Meng—

Cheng Jiu handed his car keys to Xiao Shi, asking him to park the car, and hurried to the canteen.

Cheng Jiu’s father and Captain Meng were old acquaintances. Back when Cheng Jiu graduated and came to Beiyu, his father had disagreed, thinking Cheng Jiu deserved better opportunities and that coming to a remote place like Beiyu wouldn’t help his promotion. He didn’t need this kind of experience.

Cheng Jiu hadn’t known that his father and Captain Meng were already acquainted, but Captain Meng knew exactly whose son Cheng Jiu was.

As Cheng Jiu walked into the canteen, he saw Captain Meng and his father from afar, sitting together over tea, animatedly slapping the table as they talked.

Captain Meng spotted him first and waved him over.

Cheng Jiu’s father saw him too, and when Cheng Jiu came near, he asked, “Where’s Xin Gan?”

Captain Meng, unaware of the situation, asked, “Who’s Xin Gan?”

Cheng Jiu’s father explained, “Xin Gan, his girlfriend. They’re getting married soon. The girl came to Beiyu a while ago.”

Captain Meng clapped Cheng Jiu on the shoulder. “Good lad, hiding things so well! When did this happen? Why didn’t I know?”

Cheng Jiu’s father glanced at his silent son. “Stop acting mysterious and answer me—where’s the girl?”

“She’s resting,” Cheng Jiu replied.

Captain Meng grew even more interested and kept pressing for details. Cheng Jiu, though, said little. He sat with his father but didn’t speak to him, nor did his father speak much to him; instead, he and Captain Meng reminisced.

The father and son weren’t as close as one might expect. Captain Meng noticed this, and his curiosity about Cheng Jiu’s girlfriend grew—he wanted to know what kind of girl could finally make this perennial ironwood bloom.

Xin Gan’s name was memorable—Captain Meng immediately remembered it, and even joked about when Cheng Jiu would submit the marriage report so he could attend the wedding.

Cheng Jiu didn’t answer directly, but his father, beaming, replied, “Soon, very soon.”

“It’s been years since we last met. Who’d have thought your son would end up working under me? And now you bring such good news—this must be fate.”

His father raised his teacup. “I’m happy too. This boy has been a handful since childhood. I’m just waiting for him to get married and give me a chubby grandson. Then I’ll have no more regrets.”

“Set your sights higher than that! A man can’t have such modest ambitions.”

Cheng Jiu sat to the side, sipping his tea without joining in. When the two finished reminiscing, Captain Meng left for other matters, and only then did Cheng Jiu speak. “You knew Captain Meng?”

“We were once comrades. Then he was transferred, and so was I—we lost touch.”

Cheng Jiu offered him a cigarette. “Smoke?”

“No. If your mother finds out, she’ll be angry.”

“She’s not here. If I don’t tell, no one will know.”

“You’ve always been like this—full of mischief since you were a child.”

Cheng Jiu curled his lips, neither admitting nor denying it.

His father narrowed his eyes, finally accepting the cigarette. “What’s your plan, calling me here like this? Are things not going well with Xin Gan?”

Cheng Jiu just smiled.

“I knew it—so I was right? What did you do to upset the girl, that you needed to call me here?”

Cheng Jiu asked, “Dad, do you want a grandson?”

“Is that a real question? What father doesn’t? Or are you planning to stay single? I’m telling you, don’t even think about it. That girl came all this way to find you, not afraid of hardship—and you want to mess this up?”

Cheng Jiu didn’t hurry. He lit a cigarette, took a drag, and finally said, “If you want a grandson, you’ll have to do as I say.”

His father raised an eyebrow. “Are you threatening me now?”

Cheng Jiu said nothing more, and his father, seeing he was being kept in suspense, couldn’t help but scold him a bit. Cheng Jiu didn’t take it to heart.

…

Xin Gan met Cheng Jiu’s father on the third day of her stay at the family quarters. He was amiable and approachable, very easy to talk to. Cheng Jiu was busy with work and didn’t stay long.

Cheng Jiu’s father, however, noticed the swelling on Xin Gan’s face. “What happened to your face?”

“Hello, Uncle. I had an allergic reaction.”

“Did you apply any medicine?”

“Yes, I did.”

“How did it get so bad? Well, it’s not surprising, I suppose. This is the plateau—the environment isn’t easy. It’s normal to have trouble adjusting at first.”

Xin Gan nodded without speaking, and an awkward silence followed. With Cheng Jiu absent, she didn’t know how to converse with his father.

He too sensed the awkwardness, thinking he should have brought Cheng Hui along—she was clever, young, and bold, good at finding topics to talk about. Girls could chat easily; as an old man drafted by Cheng Jiu to play the stern parent, the task was a bit taxing.

Cheng Jiu’s father hugged his knees, sat on the sofa watching TV for a while, then asked, “How have things been between you and Cheng Jiu lately?”

As an elder, he had few topics to discuss and could only ask about her and Cheng Jiu. He guessed, without Cheng Jiu having told him, that his son must have upset the girl.

Xin Gan replied uncertainly, “It’s… all right, I suppose.”

Her tone was hesitant, but then she recalled what Cheng Jiu had said—the matter of marriage needed to proceed slowly. If the families ended up at odds, that was the last thing either of them wanted.

So she added, “Cheng Jiu is very good to me. He’s a good person, too.”

“You don’t have to praise him out of politeness. He’s my son—I know what he’s like. That boy is full of schemes, though not bad in the real sense—just too clever, always thinking, hates being managed. When he came to Beiyu, I didn’t even know; I was the last to find out.”

Talking about Cheng Jiu, his father became more talkative.

Xin Gan, unfamiliar with his family affairs, followed his lead. “Why?”

“Our relationship is just average. I was strict with him growing up, had high expectations, and was busy with work, rarely at home. We weren’t close. Only in recent years, with me less busy and him more mature, have we improved a little,” his father said with genuine regret.

Xin Gan really didn’t know much about Cheng Jiu’s family and wasn’t good with words of comfort. So she got up to pour him some tea. “Uncle, I meant what I said. Cheng Jiu really is a good person. To be honest, I’d heard stories about him before—people said he was naughty, did a lot of bad things. I didn’t have a good impression then, thought he was like the troublemakers in our compound. But later I realized all boys are mischievous when young. He’s not bad, and now—he’s very good.”

…

All day, Cheng Jiu kept wondering what Xin Gan and his father would talk about, distracting him a little, though he soon reined in his thoughts. He went to the hospital for a follow-up—Captain Meng made sure of it.

Since Cheng Jiu’s father had been present the night before, Captain Meng hadn’t brought up Cheng Jiu’s injury. But the next day, he seized the chance to take him for a check-up.

Under Captain Meng’s supervision, Cheng Jiu cooperated. After a thorough examination, the doctor said there was nothing wrong. Only then did Captain Meng relax, giving him a smack on the back of the head. “Behave yourself. Don’t go looking for trouble. If you don’t take care of yourself, it’s not just you who’ll be left in tears.”

He was talking about Xin Gan.

Cheng Jiu smiled easily. “I’m not that fragile.”

Captain Meng snorted.

They left the hospital together. Cheng Jiu was about to drive when Captain Meng stopped him and asked, “How many of Yu Tou’s men have been caught?”

“There are still a few left.”

“You need to hurry up. If you don’t get them all soon, they’ll cause more trouble.”

Cheng Jiu said he understood and would follow up.

Captain Meng then took the driver’s seat himself, making it clear he’d drive.

Cheng Jiu didn’t argue and got into the passenger seat.

Captain Meng asked, “Are things stable now? What does that girl’s family do?”

“They come from a scholarly background. Her parents are both writers.”

“When will you submit the marriage report?” Captain Meng asked. The answer reassured him—a marriage report had to be filed, and the woman’s family background reviewed and approved before permission was granted.

The requirements were strict.

But Cheng Jiu didn’t give a specific date. Captain Meng shot him a glance. “What’s wrong? I thought you were both sure.”

“I’ll do it soon,” Cheng Jiu replied.

“Don’t mess around. If you’re sure, settle it quickly. Don’t wait until she leaves with someone else and then regret it—you’ll be too late.”

Cheng Jiu curled his lip, a trace of disdain in his expression. He was certain that would never happen, nor would he allow it.

…

When Cheng Jiu returned to the family quarters, he’d already called his father, who told him he’d finished dinner. Only then did Cheng Jiu come home.

He paused with his hand on the door. “You cooked?”

“Of course not.”

“Then who?”

“The canteen.”

Cheng Jiu was speechless.

Cheng Jiu’s father was staying in a spare room they’d hastily prepared.

A little after ten, Cheng Jiu knocked on the door. Xin Gan answered, just out of the shower, her face still swollen. She wore pajamas and, since the night was cold, had a jacket over them. There was still a faint scent of body wash about her.

Cheng Jiu swallowed. “May I come in?”

Xin Gan nodded and stepped aside to let him enter.

Once inside, Cheng Jiu asked, “What did my father say to you?”

“Nothing much.”

“Nothing?”

She thought for a moment. “He said you used to climb trees for bird eggs, catch fish in the river, wet your pants, and wet the bed.”

Cheng Jiu was speechless. He looked back at her, grinned, and said, “Funny. I don’t recall playing like that as a kid.”

“I made it up,” Xin Gan said, closing the door. “Would you like some water?”

“No, I won’t stay long.”

Xin Gan sensed there was more to his saying he’d leave soon. “Where are you going?”

“I have an operation—will be gone for ten days or so.”

Ten days?

What was she supposed to do?

Xin Gan pressed her lips together, then looked at him seriously, her eyes fixed on his.

“My father will only be here a few days,” Cheng Jiu explained. “Just play along. If anything happens, tell Xiao Shi.”

Xin Gan clenched her hands, then released them, her arms hanging at her sides. “Are you brushing me off?”

Cheng Jiu gave a roguish grin, his tone teasing. “How am I brushing you off?”

“You said that once your father left, I could go too…”

Cheng Jiu looked down at her, his gaze unreadable, his lips pressed into a line. “Xin Gan, do you want to leave that much?”

“Yes.”

He drew a deep breath, trying to keep his tone from turning cold. “Are you deliberately trying to upset me?”

Xin Gan disliked being manipulated. She was afraid she’d lose her resolve, so she kept reminding herself of her original intention—not to forget it. Even though she had to admit there were things about Cheng Jiu that drew her in, men like him were trouble; once entangled, it was hard to break free.

During the day, when Cheng Jiu’s father spoke of his childhood, her feelings toward him had subtly shifted. Her emotions stirred, and she’d even asked for more childhood stories—though she regretted it later.

Better, then, to keep her distance from the start, to avoid involvement and giving him any chance.

And with Jiang Tang eyeing her, she didn’t want trouble.

Cheng Jiu didn’t understand her complicated thoughts; he instinctively believed she wanted to distance herself because of He Cheng.

He Chuan claimed there was nothing between them, but from her attitude, that clearly wasn’t true. It was precisely because there was something that she wanted to leave.

Xin Gan said, “That’s not what I mean.”

Her coldness made Cheng Jiu swallow his words and leave in silence.

Exhausted, Xin Gan collapsed onto the sofa, clutching her chest, feeling a dull ache.

Xiao Shi, passing the training field, saw someone running under the dim lights—it was Cheng Jiu. Xiao Shi watched from the sidelines, counting how many kilometers Cheng Jiu ran.

Cheng Jiu ran endlessly, not seeming to tire. Only after he’d worked up a sweat did he stop.

Seizing the opportunity, Xiao Shi sidled up, grinning mischievously. “Ninth Brother, running alone at night?”

Cheng Jiu shot him a look.

“What’s up, Ninth Brother? Why the temper?”

Cheng Jiu finally spoke. “Do I look like I’m angry?”

“You do—you’re blazing, like a man burning with unfulfilled desire.”

Xiao Shi realized he’d gone too far but, unafraid, pressed on. “Ninth Brother, take care of yourself—don’t wear yourself out.”

Cheng Jiu snapped, “Go back to bed.”

Jiang Tang was watching from a distance too. She’d returned to the unit and immediately sought out Cheng Jiu, only to hear he’d brought a woman to stay in the family quarters.

That was no small matter.

In the evening, Captain Meng called Jiang Tang for a talk.

As a civilian employee, Jiang Tang didn’t have to go on missions. Her job was easy—just office work on base, and her post wasn’t particularly demanding.

Captain Meng suggested that if she wanted a transfer to a better position, he could help her apply. Mainly, he thought there was no challenge in staying in the same role for too long.

Jiang Tang lowered her head, understanding his meaning. She asked directly, “Captain Meng, do you think I’ll affect Cheng Jiu?”

He hadn’t expected such frankness from a woman and was momentarily taken aback. “That’s not quite what I meant.”