At dusk, the setting sun shone on the sea, breaking into shimmering golden waves. The clouds in the sky gradually thinned from rose-purple to arch blue, slowly seeping into rouge red. On the sapphire blue canopy of sky, here a brush, there a strand, the flowing radiance solidified, like splashed watercolors gradually drying. The evening breeze blew, as if raising a layer of fine powder, carrying the salty smell of the sea, warm like a child's mouth, moist and humid, randomly pressing against one's body.
The weather was so hot that even with the ceiling fan spinning, the wind it blew brought no relief. Its low humming sound felt like mosquitoes buzzing around one's ears, only making one feel restless. Strands of hair stuck to her forehead, clothes damp with sweat, clinging uncomfortably to her body. The small communication light in front of her lit up again, and she repeated the phrase she had repeated countless times: "Hello, this is the switchboard, how may I direct your call?"
The person on the other end simply answered: "Fenggang."
She asked in return: "Which part of Fenggang do you need?"
Damn—she couldn't just connect the line directly to the Fenggang switchboard, could she? From that careless tone, she knew he was up to no good. Sure enough, as expected, the person asked: "Miss, are you new here?"
This kind of pickup line, in the past three days, she had encountered more than ten times. A mocking smile unknowingly appeared at the corner of her lips. The same old beginning, next he would ask her name, age, whether she could take a walk on the beach, and so on. In such hot weather, she had no patience to deal with these boring libertines. She repeated her question: "Which part of Fenggang do you need?"
"Fenggang Residence."
Shameless! In the past three days they had tried every trick; the most ridiculous time someone even asked her to connect to headquarters. This one was even more outrageous—they had quite an imagination. Fenggang Residence? She replied in an emotionless voice: "Sir, you don't have the authorization to request a connection to Fenggang Residence."
He chuckled, and she knew it—they were just idle and took pleasure in harassing her, the newcomer. These guys, as Jiayi would say, see a new person like flies seeing a rotten egg. Bah! She wasn't a rotten egg. Pure as jade without any flaws, let's see how they could get to her.
She heard him ask seriously: "I am 5579, will that not work either?"
From his tone, it sounded as if 5579 had some special privilege. She had memorized the regulations and rules thoroughly and immediately answered: "Lines starting with 5 are not authorized to connect to security levels above two. Mr. 5579, please hang up."
Without further ado, she reached out to disconnect the line, but unfortunately, their skin was thicker than city walls; they wouldn't feel embarrassed even when rebuffed.
The next day was her day off. She went out shopping and came back after lunchtime. The huge dining hall was empty except for her, truly a rare peaceful moment. Unfortunately, the heavens were not kind—a fly came even later than she did, carrying a tray of food, passing by her, and swinging back. Though she kept her head down and ate, even a fool would know what he was about to say. Sure enough, as soon as he opened his mouth, he asked: "Are you the new girl, Ye Qinwei?"
She recognized his voice—it was that 5579 from yesterday. Who would have thought he wouldn't give up? Please, could he use a fresher approach? Even though he had found out her name, he still used these unoriginal clichés to pester her.
Sighing, she would bet that in the past few days, the three characters of her name "Ye Qinwei" had become the number one hot topic throughout the entire base. This kind of treatment made her "flattered" to the point of explosion. She lazily put down her chopsticks and sized up the fly before her. He was quite handsome—what a waste to be a libertine. She asked: "Next, aren't you going to ask if you can sit here? I'll tell you now, you can't."
He smiled and brazenly sat down anyway: "If you say I can't sit, then I can't? This is the dining hall, not your living room."
She didn't even bother to roll her eyes—shameless, no need to stoop to his level. Anyway, ignoring him, let's see what he could do. Unexpectedly, throughout the meal, he didn't say another word, which was slightly surprising. She walked to the sink to wash her dishes, and he also came over to wash his. She saw him fill his bowl with water, swish it left and right, then pour it out with a splash before putting the bowl back on the rack. Seeing this, she finally couldn't hold back and blurted out: "You're finished washing?"
He said: "Of course, how else should I wash it?"
Good-looking outside but a mess inside. Washing dishes like that, she'd bet even the oil stains inside the bowl hadn't been rinsed away. She had never seen such a thing: "If you see it growing mold tonight, you really shouldn't be surprised."
His face slightly reddened as he said: "I'm sorry, I've never washed dishes before."
She didn't expect him to blush, and asked: "Are you a pilot? Why did you come here to eat?"
Pilots had their dining hall. He hesitated for a moment and said: "No, I'm also ground staff."
She asked: "Why are you eating so late?"
He answered honestly: "Actually, I already ate, but I saw you come in, so I also ran in and had to order another meal—I'm stuffed."
She giggled, not expecting him to tell the truth. Looking at him, he had an innocent, pitiful expression. Thinking of that big bowl of food, goodness, she hoped he wouldn't get indigestion.
Then she heard him ask: "I heard you're off today, could I invite you to the seaside?"
She thought for a moment and said: "Sure, at three o'clock, wait for me on the beach."
Ha! She would go—as if! The sun at three o'clock would roast him alive!
Another dusk, looking out from the small window, the sea had a black bottom, with only the last trace of afterglow left in the western sky. The earth exhaled the day's heat. Outside the window, the palm tree leaves swayed gently in the night breeze like fans.
Unexpectedly, the first call she received upon starting her shift was an angry, exasperated: "Ye Qinwei, you stood me up!"
Oh! This voice sounded quite familiar. Surprisingly, he hadn't been roasted alive. While trying hard to suppress her laughter, she calmly asked back: "I only told you to wait for me on the beach, I never said I would go."
"Ye Qinwei!" Gritting his teeth, his anger almost ignited through the phone line: "You tricked me, made me wait like a fool under the scorching sun for three whole hours?!"
Three hours? Heavens, he didn't faint from heatstroke? Amid the amusement, a slight hint of guilt welled up, but it was disrupted by her colleague's gaze—she had already violated regulations. She hurriedly said: "Where would you like to be connected to?"
"I don't want to be connected anywhere." He sounded dizzy with anger, and his tone completely changed.
She made a face, anyway, he couldn't see it: "I'm sorry, then I'll have to ask you to hang up."
Dutifully disconnecting his line, she hoped he wouldn't blow steam from all seven orifices. Alas.
After finishing the overnight shift, only fatigue remained. She trudged back to the dormitory, deep in the abyss of drowsiness. Just as she reached the fork in the road, suddenly someone emerged from the side: "Ye Qinwei!"
This was bad, judging by his appearance, he seemed to have stayed up all night, brimming with energy to settle scores with her. He wouldn't have a knife, would he? Or a gun? She couldn't win against him bare-handed. But unexpectedly, he didn't approach her, just looked at her from a distance. There was a hint of desolation in his eyes: "Do you dislike me that much?"
She didn't answer, and he sighed deeply, slowly turning away.
Perhaps it was her sleepy eyes, perhaps he was truly handsome, perhaps something was wrong with her, anyway, she blurted out: "Wait."
Seeing him turn back, she suddenly found herself tongue-tied.
After a while, she finally said: "I'm off the day after tomorrow."
The glorious rays of the morning sun were shining on his face. As if overflowing with radiance, his eyes flashed with dazzling light. He said: "I'll call you the day after tomorrow."
The gleaming joy on his face made the sky blue, the clouds white, and the sea breeze cool.
When that day came, he indeed called her. She changed her clothes and slipped out of the dormitory, feeling like a child doing something naughty. She followed him nervously, thankfully God was kind—they didn't meet a single acquaintance. Otherwise, seeing the two of them together, wouldn't people think she was dating someone after just a week here? Damn! How could she face anyone after that?
It was even hotter on the street. After walking halfway down the short little street, she was already drenched in sweat. He bought her a soda, and she gulped it down in one go. Putting down the bottle, she eyed his longingly. He amusingly handed it to her, and she took it without hesitation but choked when she tried to drink it too fast, her face turning red from coughing. He gently patted her back, making her feel embarrassed. On second thought, finding it even more amusing, she said: "It's funny, I haven't even asked yet—what's your name?"
He froze for a moment before saying: "My name is Qing Yu."
She repeated it once: "Qing Yu—'water so clear there are no fish'? Or the 'light' in 'lighter than a feather'?"
He smiled: "No, it's the 'clear' in 'clear water,' the 'Yu' with three water radicals."
She exclaimed: "Oh! Both are water, a big flood."
They had walked up and down the street twice, and she felt a bit silly herself. He bought her papaya to eat, then coconut, and finally mango. She finally couldn't help but ask: "Why do you keep buying things for me to eat?"
He said: "Because you look most beautiful when you're eating."
What kind of talk was that? She remembered the incident in the dining hall and couldn't help but laugh. He also remembered and just smiled: "I was so stuffed that day—I didn't even eat dinner."
She said: "Serves you right."
But the tone in her voice involuntarily lost its harshness, instead carrying a trace of sweetness. The mango was large and fragrant, and when bitten into, it was like honey. She kept saying how delicious it was, so he went and bought a few more pounds, saying: "Take them back with you."
Carrying those mangoes behind her, she laughed and said: "Look, don't we look like peddlers?"
He said: "If someone comes to buy, I'll sell them all for five yuan."
She spat and said: "Bought for one yuan and turning around to make a profit of four, do you think others are fools?"
He looked at her and softly said: "Others aren't fools, I'm the fool."
She felt her heart pounding from his gaze, not knowing why herself. She just felt his eyes were like the sea, so profound one could drown in them. She actually didn't dare to look anymore and turned her face away.
Suddenly she heard him say softly: "I'm sorry, I lied to you."
She was startled, looked at him, and asked: "What did you lie to me about?"
He hesitated for a moment but still said: "Last time I lied when I said I was also ground staff. I was afraid you wouldn't talk to me if you knew I was a pilot."
Her heart suddenly sank. She knew there was a distance between them. His demeanor was like that of heaven's chosen one, standing before people so casually yet with an implicitly outstanding quality. So he was a pilot after all. He looked at her, his gaze revealing a trace of sadness: "See, you're already planning to ignore me."
She indeed didn't want people saying she was aiming too high, but the way he looked at her made her heart a mess. In the end, pride couldn't resist the stirring emotions. She snorted and said: "Fine, since you've been honest, I'll forgive you."
By the time they returned to the base, it was already late, and she was afraid of being seen. She had to stop at the fork in the road. He said: "I'll call you tomorrow."
She quickly shook her head: "Not good."
He said angrily: "Then I'll come find you tomorrow."
She had to compromise: "Alright, call me."
Only then did he smile. After walking far away, she looked back and saw him still standing there watching her, as if he would watch forever. In her hand, she carried the mangoes, heavy but sweet and fragrant.
She walked back to the dormitory. Night-blooming jasmines grew along the way, their fragrance strong. In the moonlight, clusters of flower shadows appeared, and the grass along the steps grew soft as a carpet. The gentle chirping of insects could be heard in the grass. For some reason, her steps were light, and her heart was light too as if wanting to sing. She recalled a tune from her childhood, the last line was "the moon shines and water flows," and indeed, the moonlight was as good as water, shining warmly into one's heart.
Pushing open the dormitory door, she smiled and said: "Look what I brought back."
She raised the mangoes high, and everyone in the dormitory looked up at her, but no one said a word. She sensed something was wrong and asked in surprise: "What's the matter? Usually, you all pounce when you see food."
Still, no one spoke, only Jiayi hurriedly came forward and asked: "Did you go on a date with 5579?"
Her face suddenly turned red, not expecting to have been seen. Damn, how could she face people anymore? She said: "It wasn't a date—we just went... to buy fruit."
The gazes of everyone finally made her puzzled. She looked at Jiayi, who sighed: "Did 5579 not tell you his name?"
She was confused by Jiayi, hesitantly answering: "He only said his name is Qing Yu."
Jiayi turned her face away and said to her roommates: "See, I told you Qinwei didn't know."
She was completely confused and asked: "What about him? Who exactly is 5579? Why are you all looking at me like this?"
Zheng Shuyuan finally interjected: "Qinwei just arrived, she doesn't know—"
Yu Anli calmly looked at her, with a slightly sarcastic tone: "But she should have at least heard of the number one VIP in the base."
Number one VIP? She remembered on her first day hearing Jiayi joke: "Hmm, we have a number one VIP here." She hadn't taken it to heart, feeling he was at least ten million light years away from her. Although in the same base, he should be an eagle in the sky, while she was just an ordinary ant on the ground, never dreaming of any intersection. Her face suddenly went white, and Jiayi said softly: "You're new and don't know, 5579 is Murong Qing Yu. We privately just call him 5579."
She suddenly felt like she had fallen into ice-cold seawater, surrounded by roaring, sweeping tidal waves. He had only told her his given name, deliberately concealing his surname. Murong Qing Yu, was Murong Qing Yu.
She recalled their first encounter—he had asked her to connect the line to Fenggang Residence. It turned out he wasn't just messing with her; he was making a call—calling home. She bit her lower lip tightly. Everyone in the base knew who he was, except her. So he lied to her, treating her ignorance as something fun. Heaven's chosen one on a whim, playing with her, making her run in circles. He must have been holding back laughter to the point of internal injury.
She clenched her fists tightly. From childhood to now, she had never—never hated someone like this, wanting to immediately grab him and question him. She had been tricked, tricked by him like this. She hated him to death!
Sleeping in the middle of the night, the room was quiet, everyone was asleep. Except for her. The window poured in a square of good moonlight, like silver satin spread there. The breeze carried the cool saltiness of the sea. The mat beneath her had been warmed by her body temperature, thin lines branded on her arms, leaving shallow marks. How easily, easily these brands were left. But, coming quickly, going quickly, by the time she woke up tomorrow, these marks would be gone.
Close to noon, it was the hottest time of the day. The room felt like a steamer, steaming people with sweat, the world seemed as hot as hell. The signal light blinked urgently. She tried to keep her voice calm: "Hello, switchboard."
His tone was light and happy: "I just landed, got back to the dormitory, and called you right away. You're on the morning shift, so in the afternoon, let's go outside for fish balls."
The weather was so hot, that even her heart was parched and cracked. She calmly asked back: "Mr. Murong, where would you like to be connected to?"
He suddenly went quiet on the other end. In the earpiece, she could only hear his breathing, gradually becoming rapid, until he finally said: "I didn't mean to deceive you."
Her voice was as calm as dead water: "If you don't need to be connected, please hang up."
He said: "I didn't mean to deceive you."
She reached out her hand, quickly and resolutely pulling out the line.
In the afternoon, there was no wind, the air was so stuffy it felt suffocating. She was alone in the laundry room washing clothes, scrubbing them fiercely. Sweat kept dripping down from her forehead. She went ahead and washed the bedsheets as well, working up a sweat, then fetched water to wipe down the mats. The weather was so hot that even the water felt warm to the touch. She wrung the towel loosely and wiped carefully, again and again, as if she could wipe away something with it. When all the chores were done, she threw the towel aside and just sat there, staring blankly.
At dusk, she went to the water room to fetch water. As she turned the corner along the path, she slowed her steps. He was standing in the distance under a flame tree, just looking at her. She suddenly seemed to come to her senses and quickened her pace, looking straight ahead as she walked forward. He indeed caught up with her: "Ye Qinwei, listen to me."
She kept her mouth tightly shut and walked faster, but his legs were long and his steps quick. In a few strides, he caught up with her: "Ye Qinwei, I've been waiting for you all afternoon, just waiting for you to come out so I could tell you in person, you can't be so unfair."
She finally spoke, her tone sharp: "Fair? How am I unfair? Who's the unfair one? What did you take me for, fooling me around in circles, was that fun?"
He said urgently: "I apologize, I'm sorry, I didn't mean to tell you, I was just afraid, afraid that once you heard who I was, you would turn and leave."
She still ignored him. He gritted his teeth: "You can't be like this. I can't choose my family. You can't be so unfair as to immediately reject me because of my family."
Family? She stopped in her tracks. Huh... What an illustrious background he had. He was right, as soon as she knew who he was, she immediately rejected him. His face was filled with anxiety, making one's heart soften slightly. She sighed faintly: "You're right—because we are from completely different worlds, so I have no choice but to refuse to associate with you."
His eyes seemed to flash with light: "You can't be so cruel. My family is my family, I am me."
She said quietly: "Mr. Murong, you can say that, but I'm just an ordinary person. I don't want to step into your world, and please, don't step into mine."
He said: "Apart from my family, I'm just an ordinary person too." He gazed at her eyes intensely, telling her clearly: "I like you, that's why I was afraid you would leave me after learning my identity."
He spoke so boldly and clearly that she felt a light buzzing in her ears. The whole world seemed to change suddenly. The setting sun was still scorching like fire, but his eyes were even more fervent than the sunlight. It was as if small flames were wavering and burning in her heart. That feeling was like sourness, like pain, like sorrow, like surprise, but more like a faint yet undeniable joy. She felt somewhat flustered. He stood there, his expression so determined, like a reef unmoved by the surging tidal waves crashing against it. He grabbed her arm: "Ye Qinwei, I like you. I've liked you since the first moment I saw you. You don't dislike me either, right?"
A small voice in her heart said, don't believe him, don't believe him, but his gaze was so focused, so intense that she dared not meet his eyes anymore. Her voice was soft, yet clear: "I really don't dislike you, but I can't bear your 'liking,' because the distance between us is too great. You come from an extraordinary background, while I am just the most ordinary of people."
He held onto her: "You can't be so unreasonable. You can't sentence me to death with fabricated charges."
She shook her head: "It's not fabricated. You know very well we're impossible."
He said: "Why impossible—you still don't believe me. I can swear, if I don't truly like you, may I fall from the sky and be smashed to pieces."
Her face turned deathly pale: "I don't want you to swear, don't say such things."
He looked at her eagerly: "Then, you believe me now, don't you? You'll give me a chance, right?"
She bit her lower lip and said: "There is no chance—we simply have no chance."
He said: "What do you want me to do? What exactly do you want from me? Just tell me, and I'll try my best to do it."
She looked at him and said: "I just want you to leave, don't come looking for me again."
He drew in a soft breath and said: "I never thought you could be so cruel." He let go of her hand and stepped back. The sadness in his eyes made her unable to look at him directly. His voice was bitter and astringent: "Since you won't give me even a single chance, I'll respect your wishes. I won't come looking for you again. You can go."
She carried her water bottle and hurried forward, as if afraid that if she slowed down, she wouldn't be able to resist looking back. The western sky was filled with golden clouds, gradually transforming into purple-red. The sun approached the horizon, but the weather was still so hot, hot enough to make one want to cry.
In the evening, the weather became even more sultry. She took a shower and sweated again. After lights out, she tossed and turned in bed, unable to sleep. Jiayi in the opposite bed couldn't sleep either and said softly: "This weather is truly hellish."
She responded with a sound of agreement, noticing a patch of white light in the distance outside the window, and asked: "Are there still night flights tonight?"
Jiayi said: "Looks like it, all the lights on the runway are on."
As they were talking, a breeze blew in, very refreshing. Jiayi sat up in bed and said: "This breeze feels nice."
Within a few minutes, the wind grew stronger, making the windows rattle. Zheng Shuyuan wasn't asleep either; she got up to secure the wind hooks and, standing by the window, said: "Finally, it's cooling down."
Just then, thunder rumbled faintly in the distance, followed by a flash of lightning and a thunderclap that seemed to shake heaven and earth. Jiayi said: "It's going to rain, probably a storm."
Before she finished speaking, there was a loud bang as the door slammed shut from the wind. Then came the sparse sound of rain starting to fall, and within moments, a violent storm swept in with gale-force winds. Ye Qinwei hurriedly closed the windows as the urgent warning siren sounded. She turned to look at Jiayi; Zheng Shuyuan's face was snow-white as she said: "This is bad, the planes have encountered the storm, they definitely can't land."
Her heart tightened for some reason, and she said: "I wonder which squadron is flying tonight."
Jiayi said: "Just look at Shuyuan's expression and you'll know, of course, it's the Fourth Squadron."
Zheng Shuyuan's boyfriend was in the Fourth Squadron. Yu Anli, who had been awakened by their noise, said with sleepy eyes: "Don't worry, 5579 is in the Fourth Squadron, so even if it costs lives, the control tower will ensure the squadron lands safely."
Ye Qinwei's heart skipped a beat, and for some reason, that feeling of anxiety suddenly became real. Zheng Shuyuan was very worried: "In this weather, even the control tower can't do anything."
Ye Qinwei lay back in bed, but she couldn't close her eyes anymore. She remembered his oath and seemed to hear him clearly saying: "May I fall from the sky and be smashed to pieces." She had felt vaguely uneasy at the time, and now this uneasiness made her restless. Oh, she didn't want him to say such things, didn't want him to make such an oath, and especially didn't want it to come true, even if he didn't truly like her. She hoped he was safe and well... She suddenly realized with pain... that she liked him too, liked the way he smiled, liked his clear voice saying: "Ye Qinwei, I like you." She raised her hands to cover her eyes. Oh, but it couldn't be, it couldn't be no matter what. His world was one she could never enter and had no way of entering.
Zheng Shuyuan still sat up occasionally to listen for sounds, until she faintly heard the engines of the planes, only then did she quiet down and listen silently. She too listened carefully to those distant sounds in the wind and rain, trying to capture the rumbling that grew from far to near. One... two... three... four... she counted silently in her heart... Zheng Shuyuan let out a long sigh of relief, and she also silently sighed in relief. All the planes in the squadron had landed. He had returned, returned safe and sound.
After finishing her shift, she went to eat. She was alone again in the dining hall. She vaguely recalled the scene from that day, and while she was in a daze, suddenly a tall figure loomed before her. She looked up, and it was him. She sighed weakly as if wanting to escape. He looked at her, his gaze filled only with sorrow: "I'm sorry, I didn't keep my promise, but I really couldn't control my feet; they unconsciously brought me to you."
She didn't know what to say. He said: "I made up my mind, resolved to forget you, but I couldn't do it. Qinwei, why is it like this? You must have cast a spell on me. I really can't do it."
She didn't want to hear him anymore. She jumped up and said: "I have to go."
He looked at her quietly, his voice low and painful: "Last night we encountered a storm. At that time, I thought, if heaven forbids us to be together, then I wouldn't come back, only then would I leave you." His eyes fixed on her: "I take back my words. I can't leave you, because that's something I can't do unless you dislike me very much. Otherwise, I will never let you go. Nothing can separate us, not my family, not others' gossip. Ye Qinwei, I love you. Give me a chance, and I will make you believe in me."
Her tongue seemed tied; she couldn't speak. The dining hall was so quiet that one could hear the soft rustling of the palm trees outside the window. His eyes were like flames, unstoppable, burning to her heart. He stared at her: "Give me one word. Say you really dislike me, and I'll turn and leave immediately—Oh, no, even if you say that, I won't leave. I will try, keep trying until you like me."
She couldn't resist anymore. She felt his eyes were like the sea, a sea that could drown her, but she involuntarily sank into this sea. She heard her small voice: "I like you too, but..."
He grabbed her shoulders in wild joy, like a jubilant child: "No buts, I love you, no buts. There are no buts in this world that can stop me from loving you, nothing and no one can stop it."
He spoke so decisively that she closed her eyes. His heart was like rock, hers like cattail grass; the rock doesn't move, the cattail grass bends like silk. He was so reckless, so she could be reckless too. Even if his world was a bottomless abyss, she would plunge in without hesitation.
Happiness came so suddenly, so suddenly that it felt unreal. They often went to small restaurants together, made early morning appointments to dig for clams on the beach, and in the evening, they held hands like children walking on the beach. The setting sun was so round, the colorful clouds in the sky like a piece of brocade, and the slanting sun was like a flower on that brocade. She had never seen such a beautiful sunset, and he held her waist, letting her lean on his shoulder, watching the night gradually fall. Between the sea and sky, people were so small; he and she were as small as two grains of sand. He said: "I just want to be two grains of sand with you, staying together on this beach for a lifetime."
She smiled slightly: "Silly talk, a wave would separate us."
His hand tightened and he said: "No, even if a wave carries me away, the next wave will bring me back to you."
One by one, stars gradually became clear and visible in the eastern sky. He said: "I'm going home for a week. I want to tell my mother about us. She will find a way to speak for us in front of my father. Qinwei, my mother is the most understanding in the world; she will like you."
She looked at the scattered stars and vaguely asked: "Really?"
He said: "Of course, my mother will like the person I like. As long as we get past my mother, it will be easier with my father."
The night sky was as deep blue as ink, and the stars were dazzling and numerous. The waves gently lapped at the beach as he held her hand. The beach was so soft that she felt as if she were walking on clouds.
After he left, the days seemed to turn into an endless wait, with the minute and second hands moving so laboriously. He finally called, full of joy: "Qinwei, although the mother is a bit reluctant, she said she will respect my choice."
Happiness came so easily. Her heart was finally at ease, and she only urged him: "Don't have disagreements with your family because of me."
He laughed heartily: "How could that happen? Although mother expressed opposition, seeing my firm attitude, she went along with my wishes."
All mothers in the world are like this, I suppose. She smiled sweetly: "Enjoy your leave, I'll wait for you to come back."
He made a sound of agreement and said: "Mother asked me to stay a few more days. I think I should spend more time with her." He added: "If it's too hot for you to eat, go out to eat."
She said: "I know, don't worry."
He said softly: "But I still feel somewhat uneasy. You won't fall for someone else while I'm away, will you?"
Heavens! She exclaimed lightly: "Are you crazy! Liking you is troublesome enough, where would I find the energy to fall for someone else?"
He chuckled, and she suddenly remembered that the switchboard operator would hear their conversation. Her face immediately burned hot, and she said: "I won't talk to you anymore, goodbye."
He said: "See you in five days." He paused, then added: "Counting down now, still 120 hours to go, so long."
Yes, 120 hours, truly long, but after 120 hours, she would see him again, wouldn't she? The corner of her lips curved up. Just 120 more hours.
120 hours, easy to say, but so difficult to endure. Watching the sun, it seemed to take forever for even a shadow to move. From morning until dusk, the day stretched endlessly. Fortunately, he called every day. Yet during those calls, time slipped by too fast—half an hour gone before they had even exchanged a few words.
The final day arrived. He called early that morning.
“I’m leaving at noon,” he said, “so I can have dinner with you tonight.”
She replied softly, “Jiayi is sick, so I switched shifts with her. I’ll be working the afternoon shift.”
“No problem,” he said after a pause. “I’ll wait for you.”
Jiayi’s cold was severe. Her fever wouldn’t break. Weakly, she murmured, “I could really go for some pineapple.”
Qinwei smiled. “No need to be so indirect—I’ll get you some.”
Jiayi stuck out her tongue playfully. “Thank you then.”
“Having a fever and still craving food—only you,” Qinwei teased.
“Exactly,” Jiayi grinned faintly. “Being sick gives me the right to make demands.”
Qinwei boiled some water, pouring it into a bowl. “Let this sit here and cool,” she said. “When I come back with the pineapple, soak it in here before eating.”
Steam rose from the bowl in thin curls. Jiayi, half-conscious from fever, drifted into sleep. When she awoke, the fever had eased. The water had long gone cold, but Qinwei hadn’t returned.
Puzzled, she washed her face and stepped outside. From a distance, she saw Yaweng from the next dormitory running toward her, breathless.
“Jiayi—quick! Qinwei from your dorm just had an accident in town—she was hit by a car!”
Jiayi froze. The sunlight was blinding—sharp as needles, piercing her eyes.
Murong Qingyu rushed to the hospital. The corridor was filled with crying girls. Jiayi saw him and took a step back, trembling. Her lips moved, but no words came.
He looked at her, confused and desperate. “Qinwei is fine, right? She’s fine, isn’t she?”
He asked again, voice cracking. “She’s fine, right?”
Jiayi lowered her head, unable to answer.
He staggered back, his shoulder hitting the cold wall. The chill sank into his bones, turning numbness into pain. His breath caught painfully in his chest—he couldn’t, wouldn’t, believe it. He refused to believe.
He took leave from the base—it was easily approved. At home, his mother, Mrs. Murong, watched him with worry and said gently, “Qingyu, you’re still young. There are many good girls out there. This is a tragedy, and I’m heartbroken too. But what’s done is done. Don’t let it consume you.”
He didn’t seem to hear her. After a long silence, he said softly, “Mother… it was you.”
Mrs. Murong froze. “Me?”
He lifted his gaze—cold, sharp as snow. “Mother, I know it was you.”
She frowned. “What nonsense are you saying, child? What did I do?”
“I should have known,” he said bitterly. “You agreed too easily. You wouldn’t have, unless you already had a way to separate us.”
She blanched. “You must be mad! How can you say such things? Are you accusing me of killing Miss Ye? It was a traffic accident!”
His tone was deathly calm. “A traffic accident? With just a word from you, Mother, any ‘accident’ can happen.”
Mrs. Murong trembled. “Qingyu, how can you talk to your mother like this? Without proof, how can you doubt me?”
He gave a broken laugh—low and hollow. “Mom… do you think this is love?”
He called her “Mom” with a sorrow that cut through the air.
She whispered, “Don’t overthink it. I’m grieving too. What kind of person do you think I am? I only want you to be happy.”
Happy? His happiness had been taken—ripped away, forever.
He returned to the base after his extended leave. Still uneasy, Mrs. Murong called the command center herself. “Take good care of my second son,” she said.
“Of course, Madam,” they replied. “His psychological tests came back stable. If they weren’t, we’d never let him fly. The results this round are very good.”
“That’s good,” she said with relief. “Let him fly—it’ll keep him from overthinking.”
He Xuan loved fishing. His lakeside mansion overlooked the emerald waters of Lake Yu. That day, he was seated by the shore, watching the float drift lazily on the glassy surface. The mountains reflected darkly in the still lake.
Behind him, hurried footsteps broke the calm. He turned to see his secretary rushing down the stone steps, breathless.
“Speak slowly,” He Xuan said lightly. “You’ll scare off the fish.”
The secretary tried to steady his voice. “Commander An called, sir. He said a plane is missing.”
“Missing”—that single word meant crashed. A major incident. But since it came directly from Commander An, He Xuan immediately understood the severity.
His heart sank. Throwing aside his fishing rod, he demanded, “Commander An called personally? Which base?”
“Yu Hai,” the secretary said quietly.
He Xuan’s face paled. He had already guessed, but hearing it confirmed shattered the last of his denial.
He climbed the steps quickly. After the call, he sat motionless for a long time. The secretary hesitated before softly saying, “Director He?”
He Xuan finally spoke, voice hoarse. “Prepare the car. I’m going to Shuangqiao.”
That afternoon, the shadows at Shuangqiao Residence flowed like ink. The courtyard was silent, the air heavy.
He entered the small east reception room. The grandfather clock ticked steadily.
The aide-de-camp met him with a polite smile. “Why have you come in person, sir?”
“Is the master resting?” He Xuan asked quietly.
“Yes,” said the aide. “He always naps at this hour. Shall I wake him?”
He Xuan stood still for a long moment, then shook his head. “No. Let him sleep. I’ll wait.”
The aide nodded and poured tea.
The room was hushed, the old clock’s second hand ticking in the silence. Afternoon light filtered weakly through the latticed windows. On the side table sat a vase of elegant Western-style flowers—likely arranged by Mrs. Murong herself. The air carried their faint, lingering scent.
He Xuan sat there in stillness, watching the sunlight shift, the patterned shadows on the carpet slowly receding into the depths of the room.
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