“Ji-Jiang Yan…”
The person caught gossiping stammered.
There was no help for it—Jiang Yan was too impressive.
While not quite at Zhou Cheng’s level, few male trainees could match Zhou Cheng anyway. If Zhou Cheng was a dragon among men, Jiang Yan was a phoenix among humans. Standing at 172cm, Jiang Yan was different from Xia Xiao Lan’s delicate charm—anyone who saw her would immediately think of the phrase ‘spirited and valiant.’
Zhou Cheng’s reputation within the larger unit system was considerable.
Jiang Yan wasn’t far behind.
When the ‘Communications Squad’ was just formed last month and Jiang Yan and other female trainees had newly arrived, someone was caught speaking disrespectfully about them behind their backs.
Instead of crying and complaining to the instructors, Jiang Yan immediately challenged the person.
Though women were at a physical disadvantage when sparring with men, Jiang Yan’s combat skills were exceptional. She took down that male trainee in just a few moves. One moment she was intimidating, the next she extended her hand to her opponent:
“If you want to praise me, do it to my face. Now that we’ve fought, let’s consider the past forgotten!”
The male student, helped up by her, felt both shame and remorse and from then on became Jiang Yan’s supporter.
After this incident, Jiang Yan’s abilities and broad-mindedness won over many male trainees, making them think twice before underestimating the female trainees of the Communications Squad. Who knew if there might be another Jiang Yan among them?
The academy had only one all-female Communications Squad, and Jiang Yan’s single battle had made her name, undisputedly becoming the academy’s goddess. Many unattached trainees were attracted to her. Even those with partners couldn’t help stealing extra glances when she passed by… Only Zhou Cheng remained uninterested in worldly matters—even with Jiang Yan, such a uniformed beauty, he showed no interest and never participated in their private discussions.
Ask Zhou Cheng if Jiang Yan was beautiful, and he’d only reply “Haven’t noticed” or “I have a girlfriend.”
All doubts were largely dispelled upon seeing Xia Xiao Lan in person.
With a girlfriend like Xia Xiao Lan, no wonder Zhou Cheng paid no attention to Jiang Yan.
Jiang Yan was spirited and valiant, Xia Xiao Lan delicate and charming—who said they had to like someone from their field? Most men preferred looks like Xia Xiao Lan’s.
Xia Xiao Lan stirred hearts and made men want to protect and cherish her.
Jiang Yan commanded admiration but also created pressure.
Not only did she outrank others, but most couldn’t even beat her in combat—no one knew how she’d developed such skills.
“Were you talking about me?”
Jiang Yan stood before them, making the trainee who’d mentioned her name tremble.
“No-no… we were talking about Zhou Cheng, his girlfriend’s here.”
Jiang Yan raised an eyebrow, glancing toward the dormitory.
“Zhou Cheng has a girlfriend? What’s that got to do with me? Don’t talk behind my back—if you have opinions, say them to my face… We’re short on players for basketball, want to join?”
Could this matter be resolved so easily?
Jiang Yan was unusually agreeable today, and Zhou Cheng’s roommates dared not waste the opportunity. Only then did they notice the basketballs in her companions’ hands—everyone was heading to the court, explaining their encounter!
…
Zhou Cheng’s dormitory was on the second floor. Weekends at the Land Forces Academy differed from regular universities.
At regular universities, students could freely leave campus with many places to go. At the Academy, weekends meant at most no training and permitted leave requests, not unrestricted outings.
Looking out from Zhou Cheng’s dormitory window, Xia Xiao Lan thought her eyes were playing tricks: “Zhou Cheng, your academy has female trainees?”
Zhou Cheng was unpacking and organizing what Xia Xiao Lan had brought, his eyes fixed on his wife, not even glancing outside:
“Communications Squad, established this year, probably just this one batch.”
Xia Xiao Lan was just making an observation—she hadn’t thought much about female trainees.
What did it matter if there were female trainees? Could Zhou Cheng not study alongside them? Xia Xiao Lan wasn’t so double-standard—if she thought that way, Zhou Cheng could demand she quit university. Look at Huaqing’s ’84 Architecture Department: across three classes, including Xia Xiao Lan, there were only fifteen female students, the rest all male!
She didn’t know Zhou Cheng’s roommates compared her to Jiang Yan.
While looks had initially attracted Xia Xiao Lan and Zhou Cheng to each other, after more than a year together and both families have met, it was far more than just appearances.
Xia Xiao Lan didn’t consider herself the world’s most beautiful—there would always be someone more attractive. If she had to be wary of every member of the opposite sex, she’d exhaust herself.
While Zhou Cheng organized things, Xia Xiao Lan examined the desk by the window.
Many books were arranged on it; she pulled one out randomly, finding it full of notes in Zhou Cheng’s handwriting.
“You’ve read so many books?”
Zhou Cheng felt slightly embarrassed, “At the academy, besides training, we mainly take cultural courses.”
Zhou Cheng had the same competitive nature, always striving to be first.
With his wife attending Huaqing University, Zhou Cheng feared falling behind and had planned to use these two years of advanced training to improve himself. Since that time of isolation and investigation when he couldn’t communicate with outsiders, Zhou Cheng had focused on books and gradually discovered the joy of learning.
Modern technology has advanced—different from the Cold weapon era, even different from liberation times.
Technological progress led to different response methods; commanding wasn’t like before. Being ordinary might not require study, but excellence demands mastering the latest theories.
Officials like Zhou Cheng especially needed to keep pace with the times.
Xia Xiao Lan wasn’t mocking Zhou Cheng; she was happy her man kept improving.
With Zhou Cheng’s family background, he didn’t need to work so hard—his starting point was already higher than others. Yet he worked harder than ordinary people, confirming Xia Xiao Lan’s good judgment. From their first meeting when he seemed roguishly bad, Zhou Cheng had changed significantly in almost two years.
She couldn’t help putting down the book and moving to Zhou Cheng’s side, taking out the watch she’d prepared:
“Zhou Cheng, your birthday’s coming up in a few days. I wasn’t sure what to get you—don’t think I lack originality, but I know you like watches. How about I give you one watch every year?”
I watch it every year.
Watches were for tracking time, and though time passed, Xiao Lan would always be there—this romantic promise far exceeded the watch’s material value.
His roommates were considerate, so Zhou Cheng naturally wanted to seize the opportunity.
Nearly two months after Kai Shi’s sacrifice, Zhou Cheng’s mood had finally settled enough for romance. Just as his arm slipped around his wife’s waist, a tremendous bang—a basketball struck the window, shattering the glass—
Zhou Cheng shielded Xia Xiao Lan, checking she wasn’t cut by glass shards before rising to look out the window.
On the court below, Zhou Cheng’s roommate looked very embarrassed, “Hand slipped! Zhou Cheng, you’re not hurt? Wait, we’ll come up right away to check.”
Hand slipped?
This wasn’t soccer where a miskick could break a window.
Even if a basketball slipped, it shouldn’t travel so far—unless someone did it deliberately. Zhou Cheng’s gaze fell on a spirited figure on the basketball court.
Xia Xiao Lan also sensed something odd: “Zhou Cheng, you know them?”