Yu Guoyang returned from out of town a week early. Just off the train, he hurried home dusty from travel. When he entered, the house was empty except for Feng Yanzhi sitting on the sofa watching television—forget about seeing his son-in-law, there wasn’t even a ghost in sight.
He stood in the entryway changing his shoes, hung his bag on the wall hook, and while taking off his suit jacket, teased her: “Looking at your expression, you’ve been stood up again tonight?”
Feng Yanzhi ignored him, holding the remote control, leaning comfortably against the sofa back, and changing channels on her own. “Young people these days are so busy they’re never home.”
Yu Guoyang took off his jacket, hung it on the back of the sofa, slowly rolled up his sleeves, sat down beside her, took a newspaper, and leaned against the sofa with his feet up as he flipped through it, casually asking: “What’s the reason this time?”
Feng Yanzhi replied irritably: “Says there was something urgent at work, had to go back.”
Yu Guoyang held the newspaper open, glancing sideways at her. “Where’s our daughter? Why hasn’t she come home?”
Feng Yanzhi: “Working overtime.”
Yu Guoyang shook his head and sighed: “Well, that’s that. Military orders outweigh mountains. Nothing you can do about it. Who told your daughter to find a military man? Besides, isn’t she busy and never home? Didn’t she recently say she was going to Yunnan on a business trip? Anyway, they’re both busy, nothing to say about it.” Then, as if uncertain, he glanced at her again. “He is military?”
Feng Yanzhi’s voice remained languid: “Of course, I’ve seen his military ID. Can’t be fake.”
Yu Guoyang snorted a laugh, lowering his head to browse the newspaper, casually asking: “What rank is he?”
“Two stripes.”
“Oh, that’s not low.” Yu Guoyang let out a sound.
“Of course not. He’s considered a political figure now, isn’t he?” Feng Yanzhi got animated at this point, putting down the remote control. “I never dared imagine our daughter would connect with such people. I always thought she’d find someone ordinary and decent like little Shen. Who knew she’d pull this off? I’ll be honest with you, in all my life, I’ve never seen a young man with such high emotional intelligence. That day at work, even Old Li said this young man knew how to talk, and was polite, and comfortable to be with. He doesn’t have that restlessness you see in young people today. Compared to him, Yu Hao is far behind.”
Yu Guoyang found his reading glasses on the low table and put them on, holding the newspaper closer, glancing at her: “Besides grades, did you ever care about anything else about her? You probably don’t even know what food she likes, let alone what kind of boys she likes.”
Feng Yanzhi rolled her eyes. “You’re in no position to lecture me about this. Do you know what kind of boys she likes? When it comes to communication, you’ve done even less than me. At least I cared about her grades; you didn’t even care about that.”
Yu Guoyang twitched the corner of his mouth. “I’ve always believed that being too concerned about a child’s grades creates invisible pressure.”
“I won’t waste time arguing with you. Anyway, regarding Yu Hao’s education, my conscience is clear. The only thing I regret is that during her first year of high school, I was too busy fighting with my mother, being stubborn, and neglected her mental health issues. Professor Han said she has social anxiety disorder. I could tell from when she was young—this girl was too self-contained. I took her to doctors before, and they all said there was no problem, just that she was shy and introverted. If it weren’t for our divorce drama making her emotionally unstable, she wouldn’t have suffered so much afterward. I admit that in this aspect, I was a very inadequate mother. But Yu Guoyang, ask yourself honestly, if you had just balanced the relationship between me and your mother better, things wouldn’t have turned out this way. During this time, interacting with this young man, do you know what I’ve thought about most?”
Yu Guoyang paused, newspaper still in hand, looking over at her suspiciously.
Feng Yanzhi didn’t look at him, her gaze falling imperceptibly on the window outside, where dense green leaves appeared especially clear in her eyes. She laughed self-mockingly: “The vigor and spirit he has resembles you when you were young, but he’s more attentive than you, very observant of details. From one casual remark of mine, he detected the discord between me and Old Yang, and in front of Professor Yang, he gave me a face without being disrespectful. Could you do that? Remember last time when I came home and told you about arguing with Old Yang at work over a project application? What did you say then? You said, ‘Why bother with her, just do your own thing.’ Whenever I complain to you, you just say, ‘What’s the big deal? Just ignore her,’ or you half-heartedly help me criticize Old Yang, but back at work, you become a coward. Do you know how Old Yang portrays you to the department head? She says you’re incompetent and spineless! This applies to my relationship with your mother too. You always ask why I fuss with the old lady, but there are some things women should care about. I’ll only say this once and never again. Old Li asked me why I tolerate your mother so much. I said I had no choice—I broke her leg, and she’s confined to a wheelchair for the rest of her life. That’s my debt to her.”
Yu Guoyang’s face darkened. “Enough, we don’t need to bring this up.”
Feng Yanzhi continued as if talking to herself: “Regarding your mother and me, you’ve never been on my side. Deep down, you’ve always been on your mother’s side. Don’t deny it. After being with you all these years, I’m very clear about your bit of male pride. You’re used to being weak—argue with someone and after two sentences your face turns red, your neck swells, and you get high blood pressure. I’m beginning to understand why Yu Hao would like a man like Lu Huaizheng. Because of the sense of security she lacked as a child, and all this spineless atmosphere she experienced—she needs someone who can protect her. Don’t you understand that? Or are you just pretending not to?”
Yu Guoyang suddenly slammed the newspaper on the table: “Enough!”
“Why don’t you two just marry him together then!”
Feng Yanzhi shook her head with a hopeless smile, heart turned to ashes: “Angry because I hit the truth? It doesn’t matter, Yu Guoyang. I’ve been thinking for several days, and I’m very clear now. You appear to offend no one, but behind the scenes, you offend everyone. Do you know that without some edges, people will just kick you around like a ball? I’ve had enough of this life, I’ve had enough of your mother, and Yu Hao has found her happiness. We might as well end it here. Even if I live alone from now on, I don’t want to stay in this house suffering this spinelessness anymore. I’ll pay regular alimony for the old lady’s broken foot. Oh, by the way, there’s something you might not know—Lu Huaizheng is Huo Ting’s nephew. Given Old Lady Yu’s personality, she would not agree to someone from the Huo family marrying our daughter, to avoid another bloodbath. I’m too tired to fight with you all anymore. Let’s make it simple: we divorce, and our daughter stays with me, with no connection to your Yu family. Her marriage to Lu Huaizheng will have no impact on you at all.”
“Isn’t Lu Huaizheng surnamed Lu? How is he related to Huo Ting?” Yu Guoyang was so angry he could barely speak.
“Lu Xin is his aunt, who remarried Huo Ting in her thirties.”
Yu Guoyang gave a cold laugh. “So you see someone who made a good marriage in her thirties and wants to remarry too? Look at how old you are, still making trouble following others.”
“Whatever, think what you want.”
Li Hongwen sat waiting in the conference room for a long time. The inquirers were several investigators from the research institute. When Lu Huaizheng pushed open the door, they were discussing something. Hearing the door move, they all turned their heads in unison. Li Hongwen was the first to welcome him: “Come sit down.”
Lu Huaizheng gave a salute, pulled up a chair, and sat across from them.
Li Hongwen sat at the center of the conference table, with the other three investigators seated in a row. After he settled in, the female investigator sitting in the middle of the three suddenly handed him a photo. “Do you know this person?”
Lu Huaizheng looked down at it and confirmed: “Yes.”
Female investigator: “What’s her name?”
“Di Yanni.”
“What’s your relationship with her?”
Lu Huaizheng leaned back in his chair, hands folded on the table. Hearing this, he instinctively glanced at Li Hongwen, who nodded to indicate he should answer, then he said quietly: “My former psychologist.”
Female investigator: “Did you have any other interactions privately?”
Lu Huaizheng answered quite directly: “No. Because it was a patient-doctor relationship, we had almost no private interaction. That’s the team’s rule.”
“Your team also has psychologists regularly. Don’t you interact with them either?”
Li Hongwen jumped in to answer this question: “No, that’s different. The team’s regular psychologists are consultation-type, helping team members with routine psychological evaluations. Once we discover a team member with psychological issues, we promptly transfer them to a proper psychiatric hospital for treatment, and the doctor-patient relationship is highly confidential.”
The female investigator indicated understanding, making a check mark on her paper, and continued asking while looking down: “During the treatment process, did she mention any strange things to you?”
“What counts as strange?”
“Like psychological experiments.”
Lu Huaizheng looked at Li Hongwen again. This time even the latter couldn’t hold back, tapping the table: “Little Shao, just say what you want to say. Don’t beat around the bush.”
The three investigators looked at each other. The one called Little Shao looked at Li Hongwen with words caught in her throat, features twisted into a knot, as if troubled and difficult: “Leader, don’t put me in a difficult position. I was just sent here to ask Captain Lu for some information. What exactly happened—the higher-ups want it kept confidential. You’re asking me to make a mistake.”
Li Hongwen laughed coldly. “Oh? There are still mistakes you, Little Shao, dare not make. I must not know that little girl who moved the commander’s chair and caused him to fall heavily that year.”
“I was young, the commander didn’t pursue it, I was just lucky. I wouldn’t dare do that again, so please don’t put me in a difficult position.”
Li Hongwen, that old fox, always had a way. The information he wanted to find out, he found out soon after.
Little Shao asked a few more questions about drug dosages and abnormal phenomena during the treatment process, all of which Lu Huaizheng answered. After they left, Li Hongwen received news from his side. After finishing the call, his entire demeanor changed for the worse.
At that moment, Lu Huaizheng was leaning against the window in Li Hongwen’s office, smoking. A sandalwood ashtray was placed by the window. He gazed into the distance, tapping off the ash. Just as he put the smoldering cigarette back to his lips, he heard a “bang!” as the phone was slammed down behind him.
Standing tall, he turned his head at the sound, brows slightly furrowed, cigarette paused at his lips. He looked at Li Hongwen’s ashen face and asked: “What’s wrong?”
There was a faint scent of sandalwood in the room.
After a while, Li Hongwen asked him: “You have a physical exam every year, right?”
“Mm.” Lu Huaizheng nodded.
“When was the most recent one?”
“Apart from the HIV test, I think it was the end of last year?”
“Nothing uncomfortable?”
“No.” Lu Huaizheng smiled, took the cigarette to his lips, inhaled, held the cigarette outside the window, and asked softly: “What’s wrong?”
“It seems Di Yanni used prohibited drugs during your treatment, and there are records of excessive morphine use. She experimented on herself, proving that your so-called PTSD—I didn’t understand clearly, anyway, she used you as a guinea pig for an experiment! And, Yu Hao also knows about this now.”
“Who did you just call?”
“Old Han.” Li Hongwen gritted his teeth. “This old guy said he was afraid the military pressure here would alert Di Yanni’s side, so he never told us. Yu Hao was the first to discover this. She and Zhao Dailin accidentally found your medical records, studied them with Old Han for a long time, and confirmed that prohibited drugs were indeed used during your treatment. It can only be said that you were lucky—your body didn’t develop problems.”
Li Hongwen sighed again. “This little girl is just like her mentor, doing everything without making a sound. When she had that big conflict with Di Yanni recently, I thought it was like those online rumors.”
“What rumors?”
“Probably saying she wants fame, saying she’s a government lapdog, pretending to spread positive energy all day.”
Lu Huaizheng didn’t have time to go through those netizen comments, so he just read a couple and closed it. Academic issues are inherently controversial. Like that day when someone threatened to teach Yu Hao a lesson—he and Huo Ting went to guard the entrance of S University that night, but the guy had run away at the first sign of trouble.
The next day he had another mission and didn’t have time to handle it, so he could only let Huo Ting keep an eye on things and deal with it after returning from Tuslan. However, Huo Ting was highly efficient and directly sent him a message saying, “Handled.”
Later, when he returned and checked the messages, that person hadn’t caused any more trouble, so he didn’t bother with it anymore.
As for what others said, he couldn’t be bothered to look. After countless rescue missions, he understood a principle very well: what’s most easily stirred up isn’t fire, isn’t dandelion fluff, isn’t wind, isn’t anything that exists in physical form in this world—it’s the human heart.
Sometimes during overseas rescue operations, he’d meet compatriots. Some understood, some didn’t. Some pointed fingers and cursed at them, and those who cried to heaven and earth with gratitude.
Even more so on the internet, where people express these inflammatory emotions to the fullest extent when judging someone based on just a few words. He remembered watching a program a long time ago when he was bored.
There was a young girl who, during a memorial day for martyrs, forgot to remove her sunglasses and was accidentally captured by a drone camera.
Once the program aired, netizens viciously attacked the girl, even questioning her character, until she eventually committed suicide by jumping off a building.
Before jumping, she left a line on Weibo: “Who I am today is who you will be tomorrow.”
So regarding these matters, he always maintained the attitude of a spectator. Academic issues and discussions—he didn’t participate. Any work-related problems between Yu Hao and Di Yanni—he didn’t find it appropriate to intervene. And private matters between women—he found it even less appropriate to get involved.
He always quietly remained by Yu Hao’s side, letting her lean on his shoulder whenever she needed to.
However, what he hadn’t expected was that Yu Hao’s persistent confrontation with Di Yanni was actually because of him.
Yu Hao finished reading all the reports about Di Yanni. This time, the whistleblower was a student volunteer from S University who, admiring Di Yanni’s scientific theories, immediately signed up at her psychology research institute when learning she wanted to revalidate the Stanford Prison experiment.
However, during the first week of the experiment, the student discovered something wrong.
During training, Di Yanni constantly attempted psychological manipulation, even offering monetary rewards. After the first day of the experiment, Di Yanni had her assistant convey her dissatisfaction, saying they lacked experimental spirit.
As a result, on the second day of the guard experiment, the guards increased their punishment intensity, even engaging in violent physical conflicts with the prisoners. This thoroughly frightened the other prisoners, who hesitated about quitting the experiment but were sternly rejected by Di Yanni.
An even more terrifying incident happened on the third day.
Under Di Yanni’s guidance, one guard proposed having sexual intercourse with a prisoner—and the chosen prisoner was a male student. This plunged everyone into an unprecedented panic, and they began frantically banging on the basement experiment door.
This completely changed everyone’s direction.
What was even more shocking was Di Yanni’s response to questioning. She casually replied: “If a guard says have sex, do you just have sex? Don’t you dare resist? There are only two guards and more than a dozen of you—can’t you unite and resist? The true purpose of this experiment was to see if these people would rebel against authority. Unfortunately, they didn’t. Why are you indignantly ashamed? Because isn’t this exactly who you are in reality—unconditionally submissive to authority? When a boss tells you to pour coffee, you pour coffee. When a boss says to dock your pay, your pay gets docked. You’re just thoughtless living machines with no passion for life. I’m not wrong.”
Just like Zimbardo’s first attempt, Di Yanni’s experiment was also forcibly terminated.
After reading all the reports, Yu Hao lay on the table, debating whether to post on Weibo when a call came in. Seeing the name, she excitedly answered.
“Finished yet?”
Yu Hao, still lying on the table, responded lazily: “Not yet. Where are you?”
Sitting in his car outside the research institute, Lu Huaizheng held the phone, speaking without much emotion: “Still at the team.”
Yu Hao let out a breath. “Take your time. I need more time. I’ll come out after I finish my research proposal. I’ll call you when I’m done.”
Lu Huaizheng: “Okay.”
Yu Hao didn’t hang up. “By the way, Lu Huaizheng, let me ask you something.”
“What?” The man’s voice over the phone was deep and pleasant.
“Why are you so tolerant of everyone?”
“Tolerant?”
“Tolerant, like you rarely get angry.”
Lu Huaizheng noticed: “I can tell you’re a bit angry.”
“It’s not anger, more like feeling helpless, like I’ve done so much work for nothing.”
“Let me tell you a story.”
“What story?”
Lu Huaizheng looked out the car window at the flashing neon lights, which reflected in his eyes, revealing his heavy thoughts, glimmering with light.
“Two years ago, in South Sudan, rescuing hostages, I didn’t follow the leader’s orders. I arrogantly, presumptuously bombed the enemy’s defensive position. Only after I came out did I learn that Sui Wang was inside.” His voice choked. “When you’re young and proud, you think everything you do is right. After returning from South Sudan, I underwent two years of psychological therapy. At that time, I wanted to leave the military and go home. In the end, Sui Zi heard that I wanted to quit and came to find me, hoping I wouldn’t leave. She said her brother wouldn’t blame me. I think as a person, everyone makes mistakes, but if you’re wrong, you admit it and take your punishment standing straight. Even if they blamed me, they would be right to do so. But they chose to forgive. You ask why I’m so tolerant of others—it’s because the people around me have been tolerant of me.”
“Are you crying?”
He didn’t deny it, softly acknowledging it with an “Mm.”
Yu Hao was surprised by his transparency.
“Nothing to be surprised about. Of course, I cry too, I just don’t want to show it in front of you.”
“Oh.”
“Stop with the ‘oh.’ Hurry up and finish so you can come out. I’m waiting for you at the entrance. I’ve already had those posts online deleted—don’t look at them anymore.”
Yu Hao was startled. “You already knew?”
The man’s voice changed from its previous deep tone, as he lowered his head and casually said: “Mm, I knew.”
“Then what Di Yanni did to you back then…”
“I know about that too.”
She felt so much pain for this man. Afraid he might overthink, Yu Hao quickly said: “Don’t worry, Professor Han and I studied it for a long time. It shouldn’t have any major effects on your body. Don’t put pressure on yourself.”
He laughed carelessly, looking out the car window: “I know my own body. I’m more worried about yours. Did you walk five thousand steps yesterday?”
“I’m hanging up now,” Yu Hao pretended to move the phone away, her voice rising and falling, dragging out the final syllable: “Hanging up—”
But she heard something extremely quick and deep, even somewhat indistinct, coming through the receiver amidst crackling static—”I love you.”
Like catching wind or shadows, it floated by her ear. Each note transformed into a flying feather, lightly and carefully stepping near her ear. Her heartbeat involuntarily quickened, and she instinctively wanted to rush toward him and bury herself in his broad, solid chest.
To hear him lean down to her ear and say it a thousand times in that deep, low voice.
Her spine stiffened as she slowly brought the phone back to her ear. “What did you say?”
But he just laughed languidly on the other end: “Good words aren’t spoken twice. If you didn’t hear it, never mind.”
“…”
At night, the lamps along the road were like fireworks, winding along the crisscrossing roads. The yellowish streetlights illuminated the deserted streets. What once resembled a shining galaxy had fallen silent at some point. The lights in the high-rise buildings flickered on and off, gradually diminishing. The entire street exuded a sense of deathly stillness.
A not-particularly conspicuous car was parked on the roadside, with only its military license plate standing out.
That night, Lu Huaizheng waited outside the research institute until two in the morning before Yu Hao finished her research proposal and came out stretching. The two kissed passionately in the car, unwilling to part, their accidental friction no less intense than any deliberate encounter.
Finally, Lu Huaizheng drove to the seaside.
The clouds gradually receded, and the moonlight became clear, falling on the car roof, and casting a patch of luminescence.
The unsteadily rocking car resembled the back-and-forth swaying of the blue ocean before them, each massive wave crashing at their most perfectly matched height.
After that night, public opinion indeed lessened significantly. Yu Hao discovered that the accounts that had previously attacked her had disappeared, and the discussions about her and Di Yanni on Weibo had been deleted, leaving only a few positive comments without political leanings.
She hugged her phone, looking at Lu Huaizheng with disbelief: “Do military spouses get this kind of treatment?”
Lu Huaizheng flicked her forehead with his finger. “What are you thinking? Military spouses don’t get this treatment. I had Huo Ting delete them.”
She sighed: “Power, it’s still a society of power.”
Lu Huaizheng laughed at her: “What kind of power society is this? You haven’t seen a real power society yet. Haven’t you reflected on anything from the Di Yanni incident?”
“I just feel that some people are too easily swayed. Whatever others say, they believe, without their judgment. And then some bored people just want to cause chaos.”
Lu Huaizheng ruffled her hair. “Why does Di Yanni have such strong persuasive power? It’s because she represents authority—a psychology expert. Put that title on top, and no matter what she says, others will help fan the flames. I don’t understand your academic world, but for me, studying too much about human nature doesn’t mean much. Just do your best and maintain a sense of awe. Saying more beyond that is pointless.”
Yu Hao nodded firmly.
Not long after this conversation, Di Yanni was arrested for intentionally harming others. On the third day of her detention, she asked to see Lu Huaizheng.
When Lu Huaizheng arrived at the visiting room, Di Yanni was already sitting there, head lowered, disheveled, with gaunt features and sunken cheekbones—a stark contrast to the spirited woman who once stood on lecture platforms. She looked at Lu Huaizheng, pulling her lips into a pale smile: “You came.”
Lu Huaizheng had come from the military base, wearing his meticulously neat uniform, his cap properly in place, the military collar neatly folded at his neck, his Adam’s apple slightly protruding. When Di Yanni spoke, he properly leaned back in his chair and softly acknowledged with an “Mm.”
“Before coming in, I already contacted my assistant to release a statement. I still don’t believe what I did was wrong. I won’t apologize for my scientific attitude. The only thing I did wrong was to you—I owe you an apology.”
“I accept,” Lu Huaizheng said candidly.
Lu Huaizheng’s frankness left her at a loss for the series of words she had prepared. Di Yanni laughed self-mockingly, turning her face away. In the dim visiting room, there was no trace of remorse in her eyes: “This world is inherently sick. Everyone is unwilling to face the weaknesses of human nature. If you put anyone under the sun to look at, who is clean? No one is clean.” She snorted in laughter: “They talk about a diversity of voices, a hundred schools of thought, but it’s just one voice. Everyone hates the dark side, but they don’t realize that if they continue like this, the darkness will gradually envelop their hearts. In college, I conducted a test where I gathered dozens of students and randomly gave each a fake account. Then everyone spoke freely. Every day was filled with resentment, violence, and bloodiness. Don’t you think these are the truest faces of people? By conducting these experiments, I made them face their truest selves. Is that wrong?”
“I don’t understand your science. My former mentor studied stealth aircraft. He got pancreatic cancer and now lies in a hospital bed, thinking daily about transferring his research materials. I visited him yesterday—he was still sitting in front of his computer with shaky hands, drawing diagrams and improving data. That’s what I consider the spirit of science.”
Long after Lu Huaizheng left, Di Yanni couldn’t recover from these words. She returned to her cell like a wandering ghost.
On the third day, news of Di Yanni’s suicide came from the prison, shocking the entire psychological community.
Her suicide note was made public on Weibo by her assistant that day.
“In college, I had a mentor who was very good to me, who believed I would achieve great things in psychology, and so I thought I had wings and could truly fly. My mentor was an excellent teacher who had high expectations for me. Over the years, he often criticized me because he strongly disagreed with what I did. He believed I was wasting my youth and consuming my reputation. I want to justify myself: I never sought fame. Everything I’ve done, I believe would help the academic community. I never expected so many people would like and support me. This is not a confession letter but a suicide note.
“I first had the idea to recreate the Stanford Prison experiment during a lecture. I believe Professor Zimbardo’s original experiment had many flaws, and he didn’t achieve the effects I wanted, so I decided to conduct one myself. That’s the first point.
“Additionally, I don’t deny that during the experiment, I did psychologically guide the participants because I wanted to see if they would dare to resist adversity if they would dare to unite against external enemies. The experimental results were a failure. Perhaps something went wrong in one of the steps, or perhaps the experimental direction was problematic. It’s impossible to know now.
“All participants in this experiment have been financially compensated, and follow-up psychologists will monitor their mental state.
“Finally, there’s not much more I want to express.
“The person I’ve let down the most is my former mentor, who had high hopes for me.
“Suddenly, I’m reminded of what Gu Zhenguang wrote to save a friend—
“‘I too have been adrift for long; for ten years, deep gratitude exhausted, life and death, teachers and friends.’
“Teacher, I’m sorry.
“Di Yanni’s final words.
“Written at dawn on August twenty-fifth.”
The date was two days before her imprisonment—a suicide note written well in advance.
These days at the institute, when people discussed this matter, someone sighed: “Actually, apart from her radical style, her achievements in psychology were quite impressive.”
Zhao Dailin: “Stop the hindsight talk. Weren’t you the loudest when she was imprisoned?”
“Wasn’t that because of Yu Hao?” That person glanced at Yu Hao. “Her brain-dead fans harmed our Yu Hao so badly, swarming comments to curse our Yu Hao daily. It was satisfying when she was arrested. But I’ve noticed something recently—it seems like no one is cursing you anymore. All those accounts that used to attack you have been hacked.”
Yu Hao thought it must have been Huo Ting who paid to settle the matter.
Unexpectedly, one day when a group went out to eat, she arrived early. Lu Huaizheng was still at the base and hadn’t come. In the private room were only Xiang Yuan, Xu Yanshi, and Jia Mian. Beside Jia Mian sat a bespectacled young girl about fifteen or sixteen years old.
Before she even entered, she heard Jia Mian’s surprised voice from inside.
“I didn’t realize you were so impressive.”
The young girl snorted proudly like a peacock. “I’ve won many awards since elementary school.”
“Then why are you doing this job?”
The girl blushed. “That day I had no choice. Don’t talk about it.”
Jia Mian smiled, then heard the girl say: “Damn, here’s another one cursing sister-in-law.”
Jia Mian tossed a melon seed from his hand: “What are you waiting for? Hack them!”
Xu Yanshi was eating by himself, never once looking at Xiang Yuan, who had his head practically buried in his bowl.
Yu Hao stood at the door, eyes filled with tears.
She never imagined that one day she would be accepted by his friends. But reflecting on it now, she felt both wistful and clear. At that moment, she felt happiness, complexity, and simplicity all at once.
In September, it was time for Lu Huaizheng’s six-month follow-up check, which completely cleared him of the HIV alert.
After that day, Feng Yanzhi moved out of the house. Yu Guoyang had no solution—even Yu Hao couldn’t persuade her. Finally, Lu Huaizheng returned from the base late at night and moved the two of them to his former apartment. Feng Yanzhi, afraid of causing them trouble, said she would stay just one night and find her place the next day.
This left Yu Hao torn between laughter and tears. Lu Huaizheng leaned against the door, rubbed the back of his neck, and suggested: “This place isn’t ideal for living—the security isn’t as good as other areas. I’m usually at the base and can’t take care of you if something happens. Why not move to Huo Ting’s place?”
Yu Hao nodded like a pecking chick. “Auntie cooks so well.”
Feng Yanzhi immediately refused: “If your grandmother finds out, she’ll surely kill you.”
“Why should I care about her? If she wants to hit me, let her. I have a husband now, I’m not afraid.” After saying this, Yu Hao couldn’t help but ask, “Are you going to divorce my dad? What exactly is the issue?”
Feng Yanzhi turned to make the bed. “Adult matters—children shouldn’t interfere.”
Yu Hao instinctively turned to look at Lu Huaizheng, who was leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed, still in his camouflage uniform, looking relaxed. He shook his head at her, indicating she shouldn’t press the matter for now.
Yu Hao responded with an “Oh” and went to help make the bed.
The room was quiet, with only the “flap-flap” sound of sheets being shaken. Then suddenly, Feng Yanzhi said, “Anyway, I won’t tolerate her nasty temper. She used to threaten me, saying she wouldn’t let me be listed in the family genealogy. I couldn’t care less. If it weren’t for Yu Hao, I wouldn’t put up with that old lady’s attitude.”
Lu Huaizheng, half-jokingly, leaned against the door and said: “No problem, you and Yu Hao can both be listed in the Lu family genealogy.”
Feng Yanzhi was amused by him but couldn’t help tearing up, feeling a bit embarrassed. She waved her hand, shooing the two away. “You two go do whatever you need to do. Why are you hovering around me? I need to tidy up and get to sleep.”
“Mom, leave the door unlocked for me. I’m going down to see him off.”
Feng Yanzhi didn’t look up: “Why leave it unlocked? Go sleep at your father’s house.”
“I’m not going home. I’m sleeping with you tonight.”
Feng Yanzhi couldn’t argue anymore. “Then don’t kick the blankets. You’ve kicked blankets since you were little—I can’t stand it.”
Lu Huaizheng smiled and was about to say that she indeed loved to kick blankets when he suddenly realized this was inappropriate and stopped himself. He cleared his throat, said goodbye to Feng Yanzhi, and said casually to Yu Hao: “Fine, don’t bother seeing me out. Stay with your mom.”
Despite saying this, the two still lingered affectionately at the door. Yu Hao was extremely clingy, hugging his neck and refusing to let go.
The two entered the elevator. Lu Huaizheng tilted his neck to press the floor button: “Come on, let go.”
Yu Hao was indignant, glaring at him: “You’ve been very cold to me lately. Entering the boredom phase so quickly?”
Lu Huaizheng raised his eyebrows, eyeing her coldly. The warm, gentle demeanor he had shown while talking to Feng Yanzhi inside was completely different—he was now frowning, though still handsome.
Yu Hao poked his chest with her fingertip. “Why do you have two different faces?”
“September 23rd, 8 PM, where did you go?”
Yu Hao tilted her head, trying to remember carefully. Where did she go? Where did she go? She couldn’t recall, so she took out her schedule to check and finally remembered. She playfully hugged Lu Huaizheng’s neck and saluted him: “Reporting, Commander! That night I went to a class reunion!”
Lu Huaizheng narrowed his eyes. “Hmm, and then you went home in a male classmate’s car.”
“I drank too much and couldn’t drive.”
He looked up at the numbers flashing on the elevator, speaking carelessly: “Oh, so you were drinking too.”
“Couldn’t refuse the hospitality.” Her voice grew smaller and smaller.
Lu Huaizheng glanced down at her with a cold smile: “If you didn’t do anything wrong, don’t act guilty.”
“But how did you know?” Yu Hao suddenly realized.
He maintained an air of innocence: “Don’t overthink it. I didn’t send anyone to follow you, nor did I install any tracking device on you. Our mom told me.” Then, with a slightly disdainful expression, he raised his eyebrows. “Who told your male classmate to hold our mom’s hand and try to curry favor? ‘Hello, Auntie, my name is Fu Donghui. I currently work at one of the Big Four law firms. If you need anything, feel free to ask me for help anytime.'”
“I wasn’t alone in his car! I was with Hu Siqi and several other girls. Fu Donghui bought a nice car and was showing off. He insisted on driving us home. We said we’d take a taxi, but he wouldn’t let us. He said he wanted to take us home, and they couldn’t refuse. Should I take a taxi by myself? I wouldn’t dare—it’s dangerous to take a cab alone.” Yu Hao hugged his neck and said, “Hu Siqi and I both sat in the back seat. The front passenger was his former deskmate. Those two were hitting it off. How could he be interested in someone like me who’s already married?”
“So you do know you’re married.”
“Hey, are you trying to bring up old issues? Let’s bring them all up together then.”
“Are you going to bring up your grandma Hu again?” He glanced at her sideways.
Yu Hao was amused and laughed, then lunged forward to kiss him. Lu Huaizheng turned and pinned her against the elevator wall, fiercely biting her lip. “This is an exception. If you ride in the car of any man who has ulterior motives toward you again, I’ll have to punish you with family discipline.”
Yu Hao was sweetly pleased. “Why are you so controlling?”
The two kissed for quite a while before separating. Lu Huaizheng didn’t let her accompany him to the door—when the elevator opened, he told her to go back.
Yu Hao reluctantly clung to his arm. Lu Huaizheng couldn’t pry her off and resignedly stroked her hair. “Our honeymoon leave is coming soon. Just hang in there a bit longer. I know you’re uncomfortable.”
“You’re the one who’s uncomfortable!” Yu Hao buried her face in his chest, retorting.
Lu Huaizheng couldn’t help laughing. “No more fooling around. I need to go.”
Yu Hao released him, her eyes unexpectedly reddening. Seeing this, Lu Huaizheng felt a pang in his heart. He hugged her tightly again and vigorously rubbed her, then bent down to firmly kiss her forehead. “About your parents’ issues, don’t get involved. Wait until I come back to discuss it.”
“Okay.”
As Lu Huaizheng started the car, he glanced at the rearview mirror and unintentionally noticed a slightly hunched figure sitting by the flower bed. The posture seemed familiar. He got out of the car again and approached the crouching figure, tentatively calling out, “Uncle?”
Yu Guoyang was dejected. When he raised his head and saw his son-in-law, he quickly came down from the steps, wiping the corners of his eyes. His aging hands were somewhat fidgety as he softly responded: “Yes.”
Lu Huaizheng walked over. “What are you doing here?”
Yu Guoyang: “Nothing, just walking around.”
“You came to find Mom, right?”
Only then did Yu Guoyang ask: “Is Old Feng asleep?”
Lu Huaizheng looked at his watch. “She should be asleep by now.”
Yu Guoyang rubbed his pants with both hands, nodded, and said, “Then I’ll head back first.”
“Dad, let me give you a ride.”
Yu Guoyang was startled, turning back in disbelief: “What did you call me?”
Lu Huaizheng smiled. “Dad, what’s wrong?”
He was somewhat emotional, his eyes seemingly teary as he looked at the young man before him, feeling indescribably touched, but only responded with a hearty: “Yes!”
Once in the car, Yu Guoyang couldn’t help asking: “Is it tough in the team? I watched the video of your rescue in Tuslan. When you came down from the fifth floor, you looked amazing.”
Lu Huaizheng turned the steering wheel, smiling candidly: “It would be a lie to say it’s not tough, but everything is tough. Everyone’s effort and reward are different.”
Yu Guoyang nodded. “Indeed, every job is tough. Yu Hao works overtime every day too.”
The two chatted intermittently until they reached the entrance of Yu’s home. When Yu Guoyang was about to get out of the car, he hesitated for a moment but still said, “During the survey, Old Feng said our daughter had found a boyfriend. At that time, I was wondering which rascal it was. But after seeing you, I think it might be her honor to marry you.”
“Being able to marry her is my blessing as well,” Lu Huaizheng said.
Yu Guoyang smiled and nodded. “Regardless of whether Old Feng and I stay together or separate in the future, I wish you both a lifetime of peace.”
“Please take care of yourself too.”
A few days later, Lu Huaizheng’s marriage leave was officially approved.
By then, Yu Hao and Feng Yanzhi had moved into the Huo family mansion. Lu Xin, with her pregnant belly, came out to welcome them. Feng Yanzhi looked at her belly, quickly put down her luggage, and couldn’t believe it: “It’s grown so big so quickly!”
Lu Xin smiled, patting her belly: “The doctor says they’re twins.”
Feng Yanzhi was genuinely happy. “Congratulations!”
“Thank you.”
The days spent in the Huo mansion became the happiest days of Feng Yanzhi’s life. Her cooking was better than Lu Xin’s, and even Huo Ting couldn’t stop praising it. She was busy all day long, constantly preparing nutritious foods, and making various soups and broths for Lu Xin. Lu Xin smiled wryly at Yu Hao: “I can foresee your days when you’re pregnant.”
When Yu Hao thought about having a baby with Lu Huaizheng, she found it a bit unbelievable and blushed, saying: “It’s still early.”
“Early? You’re almost thirty. Don’t wait until my age—it’s harder to get your figure back, and it’s not good for the baby either.”
After Lu Xin’s indoctrination, Yu Hao became somewhat eager. However, a certain person showed no reaction whatsoever, persistently using protection during their nightly endeavors. One time, Yu Hao became desperate and tugged, saying, “Don’t use it.”
Lu Huaizheng, lying on top of her, paused. “What’s wrong?”
“I want to have a baby.”
Lu Huaizheng sighed. “Let’s wait until after the wedding. It’s too early now.”
“Then after the wedding, we’ll have a baby.”
Lu Huaizheng suddenly smiled, pointing at her forehead: “Have you been drinking too much of Lu Xin’s chicken soup? Developed maternal instincts?”
“Think about it, I’ll give birth to your child, and then in the future, I’ll hold her/his hand, go shopping, watch TV, and they’ll look exactly like you—wouldn’t that be interesting?”
“No, if it’s a daughter, maybe, but if it’s a son, I’m afraid he’d be too mischievous. And a daughter who looks like me wouldn’t be pretty—she should look like you.”
“So you agree?”
“Agree my ass.” Lu Huaizheng realized he had almost been lured in by her.
That day, Lu Huaizheng went out to eat with Sun Kai and others. When he returned, someone was following behind him. Feng Yanzhi, sitting on the sofa teaching Lu Xin how to knit baby socks, looked up and saw the short, chubby man behind him. Her expression changed slightly as she put down the knitting needles and left.
Yu Guoyang sat on the sofa all night, with Lu Huaizheng accompanying him. The two watched a ball game for the entire evening.
When Lu Huaizheng returned to the room in the early morning, Yu Hao felt extremely bad for him. She patted his stubbly chin. “Did my dad make you have a heart-to-heart talk again?”
Lu Huaizheng: “Mm, talking about your mom’s matters.”
Yu Hao kissed his lips. “Poor you.”
Lu Huaizheng stole a kiss near her lips, patted her bottom, and sent her out.
In the following days, Yu Guoyang was as regular as clockwork, reporting to the Huo mansion entrance at 7 PM every evening. Feng Yanzhi treated him as if he were transparent, completely ignoring him. Huo Ting and Lu Xin, however, always welcomed him warmly. Huo Ting even joked: “Why don’t you move in too? There are plenty of spare rooms here.”
Yu Guoyang waved his hand. How could he have the face to do that? He would just persist like this and see who could outlast whom.
Zhao Dailin and Yu Hao’s weddings were on the same day.
The night before the wedding, Sun Kai said that several brothers from the team wanted to throw a bachelor party for him and Lu Huaizheng to officially mark their entry into marriage. Zhao Dailin arranged to go see a movie with Yu Hao. Halfway there, they received a call from Xiang Yuan: “Got dumped, need a hug.”
Zhao Dailin put the Bluetooth earpiece in her ear and said: “Come on, Central Cinema, we’re watching a movie.”
Just as the two parked in the underground garage, Xiang Yuan sent his location, saying he had already arrived.
“Damn, did you take a rocket?” Zhao Dailin cursed while locking the car.
“I was just nearby.”
Zhao Dailin half-jokingly said: “Not at a hotel, right? There’s only one famous hotel nearby.”
Xiang Yuan admitted without reservation: “Yes, just had breakup sex.”
Zhao Dailin cursed again: “Damn, you wild girl.”
Xiang Yuan ended the call. “Enough talking. I’m going to buy tickets.”
After Xiang Yuan bought the tickets, as Yu Hao and Zhao Dailin sat in the waiting hall listening to Xiang Yuan denounce Xu Yanshi’s various misdeeds, Lu Huaizheng and Sun Kai arrived. The two men, dressed in casual clothes—black shirts and pants—appeared tall and imposing in the cinema. When Xiang Yuan saw them approaching, she cursed under her breath: “Damn, you didn’t say this was a couples’ date!”
Yu Hao quickly explained: “Don’t misunderstand, we didn’t know they were coming.”
When Lu Huaizheng had asked her earlier where she was, she thought he was just making conversation, not expecting that he would come.
The two men walked up, each taking a position on either side, nonchalantly pulling out chairs next to their respective wives and sitting down. Then, simultaneously, they picked up their wives’ drinks and took a sip, their movements perfectly synchronized.
The three women were dumbfounded.
Yu Hao patted Lu Huaizheng. “Didn’t you say you were eating with the team?”
Lu Huaizheng lazily leaned back in his chair, turning to look at Yu Hao. He listlessly lifted his t-shirt to fan himself. “We finished.”
Yu Hao: “Really? You only ate for that short time? Didn’t you have anything to talk about?”
But Lu Huaizheng lowered his head to examine Yu Hao’s dress. “Nothing to talk about.” Then he sarcastically added: “Not like you all, attending a class reunion and drinking until eleven.”
Yu Hao quietly drank her beverage, not saying anything more.
“What are you watching?” Sun Kai asked.
“‘A Place Only We Know.'”
Lu Huaizheng stood up, ready to buy additional tickets. “What’s it called?”
“Your memory hasn’t been good lately?” Yu Hao looked at him suspiciously. “A Place Only We Know.”
“What kind of weird name is that.”
“…”
After Lu Huaizheng bought the tickets and returned, he had barely sat down when both his and Sun Kai’s phones rang almost simultaneously. Both immediately answered.
After hanging up, they turned around with changed expressions. “We have an urgent mission and need to leave. You all go home early after the movie.” Lu Huaizheng took off his jacket and draped it over Yu Hao’s bare legs. “Don’t get cold tonight.”
With that, they left. The two men didn’t take the elevator but ran down the escalator like the wind. At the last step, Lu Huaizheng nimbly vaulted over the handrail with his hand, impressing onlookers who covered their mouths and squealed.
“Parkour?”
“So cool!”
Xiang Yuan silently sipped her drink, carefully observing the expressions of the two brides-to-be beside her.
“Should I still attend the wedding tomorrow?”
Yu Hao and Zhao Dailin, each holding a cup, watched the two figures disappear like the wind, puffed up their cheeks, and said in unison: “I’m going!”
Finally, Lu Huaizheng parked the car by the sea and turned off the engine. In the darkness, his breathing was deep. When he turned to look at her, the charm in his eyes was too obvious.
He pulled her over, pressing her onto his lap, encircling her between himself and the steering wheel.
In the dim moonlight, the waves lapped against the beach with a “whoosh,” and the surf behind them stirred up layer upon layer of huge waves.
Yu Hao saw him relaxing against the driver’s seat, looking up at her with a half-smile, staring intently.
There was a “click” sound.
Yu Hao heard him unbuckling his belt in the darkness. Her breathing gradually became heavy, and even her speech carried a soft, shallow nasal tone. Every move he made was too tantalizing. He slowly removed her underwear, tossing it to the back seat, then lifted her skirt, parted her legs, and let Yu Hao straddle him.
Lu Huaizheng’s fingers explored under her skirt, gently caressing, his index finger lightly tracing her edges.
“You’re wet.”
Yu Hao was exasperated, covering her face and burying it in his warm neck. Her voice was more alluring than a kitten’s: “Don’t… don’t do that…”
“You don’t want it?” He wickedly pushed in a little. “Hmm?”
A tingling sensation swept through her entire body. Yu Hao’s scalp tingled as she parted her lips slightly, breathing in small gasps. As waves of pleasure surged, her eyes grew hazy. Lu Huaizheng deliberately pressed with his finger again, and Yu Hao couldn’t bear it. She bit down on his shoulder and whimpered.
The man remained unfazed, saying inappropriate things: “Feels that good?”
“Stop talking…”
Lu Huaizheng smiled but indeed stopped talking. He withdrew his hand, lifted Yu Hao’s bottom, and told her to raise a bit.
Yu Hao vaguely raised herself. When she came back to her senses, Lu Huaizheng had produced a condom from somewhere and handed it to Yu Hao. “Help me put it on.”
Yu Hao held the item, unsure what to do.
Lu Huaizheng couldn’t help but smile helplessly: “Tear it open.”
She did as told.
Lu Huaizheng continued: “See that protruding part? Pinch it, then make sure it’s the right side up.”
He instructed with complete seriousness.
Yu Hao’s face turned red. She struggled to put it on, and in frustration, slapped his chest. “You put it on yourself!”
“No tantrums.”
“Fine.”
Lu Huaizheng held her hand, steadied himself, and slowly put it on. Once it was completely on, he had Yu Hao turn around and then recline the seat. He positioned himself and, bit by bit, slowly entered her.
The clouds gradually receded, and the moonlight became clear, falling on the car roof, and casting a patch of luminescence.
The unsteadily rocking car resembled the back-and-forth swaying of the blue ocean before them, each massive wave crashing at their most perfectly matched height.
Yu Hao was forced to tilt her head back. She felt almost shattered by his thrusts. The blurry starlight on the car roof, hazy and indistinct, completely intoxicated her.