Chapter Ninety-Two: A Devout Home

"That's right, Dad. Jiu won't be coming home for the New Year this year; he's staying in Beiyu. But he's not alone—this time, that girl from the Xin family went with him."

"When did this happen? Why didn't you tell me?" Old Mr. Cheng lived in their rural hometown, where the air was fresh and the environment serene, perfect for retirement. He seldom paid attention to matters in Yong City. When Cheng Jiu and Xin Gan registered their marriage, he found out and spoke to Cheng Jiu on the phone, simply telling him to treat the girl well and not let her down.

Old Mr. Cheng's health was poor, and with their old house in the village being renovated, he had to oversee the progress, so he rarely came to Yong City. Whenever Cheng Jiu returned, his father wasn't around.

Mrs. Cheng withdrew her gaze as she watched the two figures walking away from the window. "It happened a few weeks ago. Something came up on Cheng Jiu's side—he didn't say exactly what, just that he couldn't come back this year, and the wedding would have to be postponed. Xin Gan probably couldn't bear the thought of him spending the New Year alone, so she went to keep him company."

Old Mr. Cheng pondered for a while and said, "Xin Gan is a good child. She's her family's only daughter. We mustn't wrong her after she marries into our family."

"You're right, Dad. But about Cheng Jiu's transfer... This is something that needs to be settled sooner or later. If he does come back, could you help him out and put in a word? I'd really hope for him to have a stable, less dangerous job..."

Old Mr. Cheng snorted coldly, "If he's capable enough to go to Beiyu, he can find his own way back. Don't expect the family to intervene."

His refusal was absolute, leaving Mrs. Cheng no room for argument. On matters concerning Cheng Jiu, he brooked no discussion. Proud and upright all his life, he would never use connections for Cheng Jiu's sake—indeed, he looked down on such behavior.

Mrs. Cheng understood her father-in-law's character—her request was merely to test the waters. If he agreed, so much the better; if not, there was nothing to be done. Not wanting to provoke his temper, she dropped the subject. After hanging up, realizing Cheng Hui and He Chuan had gone out, she tried calling her daughter.

Cheng Hui didn’t answer—she was otherwise occupied. At that moment, He Chuan had her pressed against a tree, gripping her wrists with his large hands, preventing her escape. He arched an eyebrow at her, "Still want to argue with me?"

Cheng Hui looked sullen, refusing to cooperate. "All you do is use force. Just because I can’t beat you, He Chuan, you think you’re a man just because you bully me?"

"Want to find out if I'm a man?" He Chuan deliberately lowered his voice, teasing her. Freeing one hand, he took her phone, pressing her finger to unlock it. Cheng Hui, realizing things were bad, tried to kick him, but he dodged, pinning her down completely.

He quickly found the call log—Tang Que had called over ten minutes ago, the call lasting more than six minutes. The only missed call was Mrs. Cheng's recent one.

"If you won't tell me, I'll just call Tang Que and ask him myself."

Cheng Hui, furious and embarrassed, snapped, "He Chuan, are you insane? Why ask him? It’s none of your business!"

He Chuan grinned, his smile cold and sinister. "Insane? Sure, and what about Tang Que? Is he your Mr. Perfect? Your first love you can’t forget?"

He mocked her mercilessly. Cheng Hui was so angry she could barely see straight, pushing at him to no avail. A wave of nausea hit her. "I told you, it’s my business."

She simply couldn't accept him, couldn't acknowledge their current relationship. From the start, it had always been He Chuan relentlessly pursuing her; she was always passive.

Seeing her jump at Tang Que's name, He Chuan’s temper flared. He called Tang Que right in front of her. "You won't talk? Fine. I don't mind asking him."

He put the call on speaker.

Hearing the ringtone, Cheng Hui panicked, "He Chuan, don't go too far! It has nothing to do with Tang Que!"

In He Chuan’s eyes, her defending Tang Que only added fuel to the fire.

The call connected, but He Chuan said nothing. Tang Que spoke first, "Cheng Hui? Is there something else?"

Cheng Hui, eyes red, shook her head at He Chuan, unwilling and resentful. But He Chuan, utterly indifferent to her feelings, kept his word. "This isn’t Cheng Hui, it's He Chuan."

At that moment, Cheng Hui wished the ground would swallow her.

Tang Que was surprised to hear He Chuan. Remembering Tang Huaihuai mentioning that Cheng Hui and He Chuan were close—almost like siblings—he quickly made sense of the situation.

"He Chuan? Oh, is Cheng Hui with you?"

Cheng Hui bit her lip, on the verge of tears—though it was He Chuan who had driven her to it. Only He Chuan could infuriate her like this.

He Chuan glanced at her, "Yeah. She forgot to ask you for the address for the get-together. You haven’t sent it yet."

Tang Que replied, "Oh, right, I forgot. Tomorrow evening around seven, at Miao Drum Tower on North Street."

"Got it. I’ll let Cheng Hui know."

"Alright. Anything else?"

"No, thank you."

He hung up.

...

After the call, Tang Que’s expression turned irritated and impatient. He said to Tang Huaihuai next to him, "Next time, don’t make me do this. I don’t want to invite Cheng Hui to the reunion. You know my girlfriend will be there—what if she gets upset?"

"You’re still dating Tang Yao? Silly brother, one Tang Yao isn’t the end of the world. Cheng Hui’s not bad either. Looks to me like she still has feelings for you. Why not keep both?"

Tang Que scoffed, "Cheng Hui's not my type. Tang Yao is better. She’s the one I like."

Even if Cheng Hui still cared for him, it had nothing to do with him—he already had a girlfriend. He wasn't the organizer for the reunion, but as class president, he had to help contact classmates. He hadn’t planned to invite Cheng Hui, but Tang Huaihuai, hearing him on the phone, asked him to call her too.

Tang Que added, "He Chuan is with Cheng Hui. He just called me from her phone. She doesn’t even reach out to you on holidays. Sis, do you really think you can win over He Chuan?"

"Don’t underestimate me. There's no man I can’t win over—it’s just a matter of time."

Tang Que clicked his tongue. "Are you really coming to our reunion tomorrow?"

"Of course. How could I not? He Chuan will definitely bring Cheng Hui. I’ll play it by ear."

Lately, He Chuan had been ignoring Tang Huaihuai—dodging her calls, claiming to be busy, traveling, or in meetings. Eventually, his assistant just started answering for him. Unacceptable.

Cheng Hui didn’t live on campus and often went out. As her counselor, Tang Huaihuai could check on her openly and found out she wasn’t staying in the dorm. She later asked Cheng Hui’s roommate, who casually said Cheng Hui was living with her boyfriend—he often came to school to pick her up. It was obvious to Tang Huaihuai that it was He Chuan.

...

Cheng Hui was so angry at He Chuan, she burst into tears. He wiped her tears, asking, "Why are you crying? I didn’t say anything. You insisted on provoking me. If you won’t answer, I have to ask Tang Que."

"You jerk..."

"I’m a jerk, but only to you. I wouldn’t bother with other women. Is it really that upsetting? I just said a few words."

He Chuan truly didn’t think much of it—his earlier words were only to scare her. She was stubborn and only responded to firmness. When he was gentle, treating her like a treasure, she didn’t care. But when he stood his ground and spoke a bit harshly, she’d end up crying, feeling terribly wronged.

Cheng Hui said, "We’re still at my house. Aren’t you afraid my family will see you bullying me like this?"

"Well, you know that, so stop crying. Otherwise Aunt Cheng really will see."

Speak of the devil—Mrs. Cheng’s voice sounded from a distance. Frightened, Cheng Hui quickly pushed He Chuan away, wiped her tears, and hid behind some shrubs. If her mother saw her like this, she’d surely be scolded.

He Chuan watched her scurry away like a startled rabbit. He lowered his voice, "Stop hiding; it only looks suspicious. Come out and stand with me—I’ll do the talking."

Mrs. Cheng came looking for them in the small grove behind the house. She saw He Chuan leading Cheng Hui back, Cheng Hui’s head down, walking with a limp. Mrs. Cheng hurried over. "Where did you go? Why didn’t you answer your phone?"

He Chuan stood protectively in front of Cheng Hui. His black sweater set off his fair complexion and gentle features, shedding all the sharpness he wore in business negotiations. He said, "Cheng Hui ran out to catch a rabbit. She kept insisting, so I went with her to keep an eye on her."

"Catching rabbits again? Haven’t we had enough at home? You be careful not to get bitten. You’re already nineteen—when your brother and He Chuan were your age, they were already learning to run businesses." Mrs. Cheng's tone was reproachful, though she was clearly resigned to her daughter’s playful nature.

Cheng Hui mumbled, "Don’t scold me anymore. If you keep it up, I’ll turn dumb. I didn’t do it on purpose."

"Then what happened to your leg?"

"I twisted it," she stammered. "He Chuan helped me up—otherwise, I couldn’t even stand."

She didn’t dare meet her mother’s eyes, feeling guilty as if she’d done something wrong. Since it was the holiday, Mrs. Cheng let it go. Her injury wasn’t serious, after all.

"Come, let’s go inside. I’ll put some medicine on it."

"Okay."

He Chuan kindly helped her inside, his fingers at her waist misbehaving, tickling her side.

Cheng Hui glared at him immediately.

They trailed behind as Mrs. Cheng went in first.

"Stop glaring, or your eyes will pop out."

"It’s your fault. My mom definitely saw us going out together—why else would she come looking?"

"Isn’t that normal? You went chasing rabbits, I went chasing you."

"Oh, stop pretending. If you hadn’t blocked the door, I wouldn’t have gone out."

"Did I make you run?"

Cheng Hui pouted, but said nothing more. In the end, she was only angry with herself.

The family doctor was away for the holiday, and Cheng Hui, unwilling to go to the hospital, told her mother she just needed a few days’ rest. He Chuan made her sit, held her ankle despite her protests, removed her shoe, and carefully examined her. "No broken bones—no need for the hospital. Just rest at home for a few days. If you’re worried, use some herbal liquor for bruises."

Mrs. Cheng said, "Thank your He Chuan brother. Why are you so thoughtless? Still in a daze?"

Cheng Hui was speechless and annoyed—only she knew He Chuan’s real intentions, but she couldn’t say anything, and her family was siding with him. It made her even angrier.

He Chuan replied, "Aunt Cheng, no need to thank me. Luckily there’s no fracture—otherwise, realignment would have been painful. Hui, remember this: don't run around next time."

Cheng Hui shot him a glare, thinking it was all his fault she ended up like this. Always playing the good guy.

Mrs. Cheng said, "You really should learn from your brother—no more fooling around. It’s our fault for spoiling you. When your brother and Xin Gan have children, you’d better not be a bad influence on your little nephew."

Cheng Hui protested, "I’m not that bad!"

He Chuan, meanwhile, didn’t defend her—he just watched the show. If he had spoken up for her, it might have looked suspicious. Not defending her was the most normal thing.

...

He Chuan didn’t stay long at the Cheng house. Before leaving, while Cheng Hui wasn’t looking, he gave her a small New Year’s gift—a bracelet. She recognized the brand; it was extraordinarily expensive, worth seven figures at least.

That was just He Chuan’s way. Any gift from him was always precious, especially for her. Even her own parents and brother had never given her anything so expensive. She was truly stunned.

...

The New Year in Beiyu wasn’t as lively as in Yong City.

That day, the wives in the family compound invited Xin Gan to make dumplings together. Everyone gathered to celebrate in a foreign place, and Cheng Jiu helped out as well. Halfway through, the secretary of Director Meng came for him again.

Xin Gan immediately stopped making dumplings and looked anxiously at Cheng Jiu.

He smiled at her. "It's nothing, just stay here and help the ladies. I’ll be back as soon as I’m done."

It was the same as before—he was needed for questioning. It wasn’t too serious, but still, it made Xin Gan uneasy. She struggled to focus on making dumplings—her mind was elsewhere, her hands clumsy.

Barely finishing, she left before the dumplings were even cooked.

Snow was falling as she walked out of the compound. The guard at the gate called after her, and she turned, pointing at herself.

"Miss, it’s snowing heavily and the roads are dangerous. Please don’t go too far," the guard kindly advised.

"Thank you," Xin Gan replied with a forced smile.

Wrapped in her thick coat, she trudged through the snow, glancing back at the deep, uneven footprints she left, knowing they’d soon be covered again. The snow in Beiyu was truly heavy.

It was only four in the afternoon, several hours until dark, but Xin Gan was lost—she didn’t know where to look for Cheng Jiu. He couldn’t tell her, and asking would get her nowhere.

She tasted the cold on her lips, worry etching her face. Outside the compound was a vast, empty area, with a few men in black uniforms shoveling snow—just like Cheng Jiu’s.

Someone waved and called out to her, asking where she was going.

She didn’t know. Approaching them, tears in her eyes, she asked, "Do you know Cheng Jiu? Where is he? I can’t find him…"

"Cheng Jiu? Don’t worry, I’ll ask around for you."

Cheng Jiu was well known—everyone in the team recognized him. Seeing her, they quickly took her to an office to rest and gave her a cup of hot water. Xin Gan thanked them, warming her hands.

"Are you Cheng Jiu’s family?"

She nodded. "Yes, I’m his wife."

"I just checked, but there’s no news yet. Wait here, don’t worry. If you need anything, just ask."

Xin Gan shook her head, calming down a bit.

"I’m fine. Can you find out where Cheng Jiu is?"

"Not for sure, but you can wait here. Maybe you can call him."

"His phone’s off."

"Then just wait a bit. I’ll step out for a moment."

"Thank you."

Xin Gan hadn’t explored much since moving there—many places were off-limits, and the snow made the roads unsafe. Cheng Jiu didn’t let her out much; she stayed inside, always uneasy when he was gone. Every time he was summoned for so long, she feared he wouldn’t return.

She wondered if things were more serious this time, with Cheng Jiu being repeatedly called in for questioning.

As night fell, the man returned, saying, "Cheng Jiu is still busy—he asked that you return home. He’ll be back later."

"You saw him?"

"No, Director Meng’s secretary told me."

Xin Gan clasped her frozen hands. "Sorry for troubling you."

"It’s nothing. Let me walk you back—it’s dark and the roads are slippery."

"No need—I live in the compound. It’s not far."

"Alright, be careful."

"Thank you."

Back at the compound, Xin Gan didn’t go upstairs. She spotted Director Meng’s wife at the stairwell, holding a thermos, seemingly looking her way through the snow and darkness.

As Xin Gan approached, the woman recognized her, quickly coming over. "Cheng Jiu’s wife, what happened? Why didn’t you wear more? Be careful not to catch a cold. Here, put your hat on."

Xin Gan obeyed, pulling her hat on.

"You’ve been crying, haven’t you? Was Cheng Jiu called away again?"

Xin Gan nodded, tears welling up.

"It’s alright, it’s nothing serious. Don’t worry—ask him when he gets back." Director Meng’s wife was kind-hearted and couldn’t bear seeing such a pretty girl crying so miserably.

"I don’t want to cry," Xin Gan said, "but I can’t help it. Cheng Jiu was called away this morning and hasn’t returned. I’m so worried, but there’s nothing I can do to help him."

"Come inside—it’s cold out here. Don’t make yourself sick."

Director Meng’s wife took her back for some hot water. Feeling embarrassed, Xin Gan wiped her tears. "I’m sorry, I keep troubling you all."

"Don’t be silly—we’re all family here. Besides, Cheng Jiu is a good kid. Director Meng values him a lot. Since he calls me Auntie, I can’t just ignore you. Such a lovely girl—your eyes are swollen. Cheng Jiu will be heartbroken when he sees you."

Xin Gan, always reserved, blushed at her words. "I’m just too sensitive, too worried about him, and lost control of my emotions."

"That’s human nature. We’ve all been through it. In this line of work, discipline comes before everything, sometimes at the expense of personal feelings. When Director Meng was young, he almost suffered the same fate—endless questioning, loss of freedom, always at their beck and call. But once things were cleared up, it was fine."

"I hope that reassures you. Don’t worry—let the men handle their affairs. As women, we just keep the home and have faith in them. You’re young—don’t be afraid."

"You’re right," Xin Gan replied. "I should trust him instead of panicking and running around."

"Exactly. No wonder Cheng Jiu likes you so much. Let me tell you a secret—he’s always been popular with girls, but never gave anyone else a second glance. Director Meng used to say his standards were too high, but after you came along, I understood—some people are just meant to be together."

Xin Gan didn’t say much; her gentle, quiet nature was the perfect match for Cheng Jiu. Director Meng’s wife said she was the enduring type, just what someone in Cheng Jiu’s position needed.

Cheng Jiu didn’t return until after eleven, chilled to the bone. The house was dark and silent. He turned on a light, moving quietly as he searched every room, but Xin Gan wasn’t home.

He called her phone—the ringtone sounded from the living room. She hadn’t even taken it with her.

He rushed out and, before reaching the stairs, saw Xin Gan coming down. He paused, his expression stern. "Where did you go?"

She gazed at him with clear eyes, her face still red from crying.

She said nothing, just stood there.

He stepped forward, hugged her, and patted her back softly. "Why weren’t you at home so late?"

"I went to Director Meng’s house."

"Were you scared being alone?"

"A little."

"Did you go out this afternoon?"

"Yes."

"Looking for me?"

She nodded, holding tightly to his sleeve.

She was so cold her lips were pale, her face drawn.

Distressed, Cheng Jiu led her home, turned on the heat, poured hot water, and plugged in a heating pad.

"I’m not cold. You don’t need to fuss," Xin Gan protested.

He warmed her hands with his breath. "Not cold? Look at your hands—they’re freezing."

She gazed at him, her heart full of tenderness. "Cheng Jiu, will you be alright?"

He smiled, his eyes narrowing. "Didn’t I tell you? Don’t worry; nothing will happen."

"But they came for you this morning, and before that, they called you so many times. Every time you’re gone so long..."

"I can’t tell you about it, but I promise I’ll be fine. Trust your husband. We’ve only just married—I’d never leave you alone."

He spoke lightly, trying to put her at ease.

"Really? Nothing’s wrong?"

"Nothing. They're just being persistent. I’ve sorted out everything I needed to. Don’t worry too much."

She believed him. Since he promised, she wouldn’t overthink. She nodded gently.

Noticing her red eyes, he felt a pang of guilt—she’d cried because of him. He shouldn’t have made her worry so much, but this matter was complicated. He couldn’t even be sure himself that he’d come through unscathed.

"You go take a shower," she said. "You’re cold too."

He patted her hand and kissed it gently. "No rush. Next time I go out, don’t go out looking for me. No matter where I am, I’ll always come home."

Wherever she was, that was home. No matter how far he went, he would always return.

Xin Gan sniffled, laughing at her own sensitivity.

...

After his shower, he found her already asleep, exhausted. He smiled, tucked her in, and took his pillow to the small room next door, which he’d prepared for such nights.

He lay awake, his mind clear, thinking back to when he and Xin Gan first met. And the song she sang—he remembered it well, though he’d never had the chance to hear her sing it again.

It seemed he needed to hurry and apply for his transfer.