West Second District Special Operations Unit, Beixin City.
Evening. On the training ground, the soldiers stood in uniform camouflage, bearing impeccable and orderly. The red light of the sky and earth fell across their faces, sweat pouring down them like rain.
Lin Luxiao stood with a clipboard tucked under one arm, his back perfectly straight, scanning one by one across those ramrod-stiff faces, a rivulet of sweat at his temple. His voice suddenly dropped and hardened: “Attention!”
Every person stood bolt upright, not daring to breathe.
“That’s all for today. Dismissed!”
Everyone let out a breath of relief and wiped the sweat from their faces.
The squad leader led his unit to the mess hall for dinner. The political instructor came running from a distance, jogged up to Lin Luxiao and stopped, saluted, then dropped his hand and said: “Leadership wants you to go to the brigade headquarters.”
Lin Luxiao gave a hum, removed his gloves and handed them to the political instructor, then turned to get his car — but was stopped by the instructor.
The political instructor was a perceptive man. When the phone call had come through, the tone on the other end had told him it was surely good news. So he caught Lin Luxiao’s arm, wanting to prime him with a few words, even though he knew full well this fellow’s stubborn temper would never take it.
The two walked toward the exit. Coming down the stairs, the political instructor leaned in close to Lin Luxiao’s ear and lowered his voice: “Whatever the leadership says, just go along with it. Whether it’s finding you a wife, or promoting you and transferring you to a new post, you’re not getting any younger — the things that come after need to be attended to. Everyone’s looking to climb up — you just want to charge forward. What’s the point? Without you, our Special Operations Unit would still produce elite soldiers every year, earn a red five-star citation every year! Every officer who responds to duty is braver than the last, and they all take after you in spirit. When all is said and done, you’ve got to think about yourself too!”
The political instructor felt he had spoken plainly enough. But Lin Luxiao only looked at him once, said nothing, patted his back, and in a few strides ran down the steps toward the motor pool.
The political instructor stared at his retreating figure and heaved a long sigh.
Lin Luxiao had just arrived at the brigade headquarters. He didn’t rush upstairs to find the leadership — instead, he smoked two cigarettes in the front hall, squinting as he pondered life, when someone gave him a light tap on the back. He turned around. A young woman in a straight military uniform and cap stood behind him, her bearing impeccable.
He glanced at who it was, then turned back toward his cigarette, exhaling smoke lightly.
Lin Mei was displeased. She stepped around to face him: “The leadership called for you and you’re not hurrying up? You’re just standing here smoking in a sulk?”
Lin Mei was Lin Luxiao’s cousin.
The two of them had attended military academy together back in the day. One had been assigned to the Special Operations Unit after graduation; the other had been assigned to brigade headquarters logistics — a civilian-track post. If one were to calculate it, Lin Mei’s current military rank was actually one grade higher than Lin Luxiao’s.
Lin Luxiao stubbed out his cigarette, put on his cap, and told Lin Mei: “I’m going.”
“Your father came looking for me just a few days ago!”
Lin Mei called after his retreating back. Lin Luxiao didn’t turn around, just waved his hand dismissively.
……
Lin Luxiao announced his presence. The man inside looked at him and said: “Come in.”
He went in and pulled the door shut behind him.
“Have a seat.”
The chief pointed to the chair before the desk.
Lin Luxiao took off his cap, set it neatly on the edge of the desk, pulled out the chair and sat down.
The man behind the desk was in his mid-to-late forties — somewhere between forty and fifty. Square-faced with streaks of grey at his temples, his eyes were especially sharp and lively, and he spoke with a smile on his face: “Luxiao, you’re twenty-nine this year, aren’t you?”
“Yes.”
The chief nodded and didn’t beat around the bush, coming straight to the point: “You’ve been at the front line long enough. I’ve already put it to the organisation — I’ve applied to have you transferred to the main brigade. The exam is next month. Pass the written test, then there’s the interview. Spend this period reading, and don’t give me any trouble.”
“……”
Lin Luxiao said nothing.
He had graduated from military academy at twenty-three and entered the Special Operations Unit — one of the rare few to be assigned directly into the Special Operations Unit straight out of military school. The Unit had heavy responsibilities, good conditions, and some fire-fighting equipment that had just been airlifted in was first sent to the Special Operations Unit for practical testing before being gradually rolled out to the front-line companies. The regulations within the Special Operations Unit were stricter; they would typically cherry-pick a few elite soldiers of strong overall ability from the regular fire companies to join.
For a military school graduate to be selected straight out of school — either the leadership had a particular fondness for you, or your abilities were exceptional.
For Lin Luxiao, it was both.
The chief, seeing that he had nothing to say, knocked on the desk. “Speak up if you have thoughts!”
What thoughts could Lin Luxiao possibly have? If he were to refuse the transfer, the chief would be perfectly capable of picking up the ashtray off his desk and smashing him with it.
In a soldier’s dictionary, the word “refuse” did not exist.
“Yes, sir!”
The chief waved his hand. “Over the next few days, hand over what’s on your plate to the political instructor. Once you get to the main brigade, that temper of yours needs adjusting. Tomorrow your birthday is done and you’ll be twenty-nine — time to find yourself a wife! Keep your eyes open. Find someone who can look after the home.”
With that, he sent him away.
Lin Luxiao saluted, put his cap back on, and walked out. He was used to it by now — every year it was the same things going round and round like a broken record.
He wasn’t on duty tonight. He came out of the brigade headquarters and drove straight home without even changing out of his uniform.
This city was always especially lively at night.
The car turned into the residential compound, parked, and he took his car key upstairs.
As he was fishing out his key at the door, he caught an unfamiliar scent of cigarette smoke. He glanced up idly and saw, in the fire-escape stairwell doorway, a slender black silhouette standing against the wall.
Nan Chu leaned against the wall, a cigarette pinched between her fingertips. The ember glowed in the dark. She had filled the stairwell with a haze of smoke.
The girl was wearing a black low-cut spaghetti-strap dress that fit close to her figure and contours. Her fair skin looked even more delicate against the black of the night. The dress was long, just reaching her ankles. Lin Luxiao narrowed his eyes. There was something dark down there — a pair of grey flat shoes, which made the fine bones of her feet stand out clearly.
She really was very slender.
The stairwell window was half open.
A draught swept through, and the black dress lifted, rippling in the breeze — like a wave of dark smoke, billowing against the wall, more beautiful than any mural.
Nan Chu stubbed out the cigarette and walked toward him.
“What are you doing here?”
Lin Luxiao opened the door, no particular emotion in his voice.
“I came to celebrate your birthday, of course.”
Nan Chu stopped beside him. When the hem of her dress brushed against the leg of his trousers, Lin Luxiao looked down and saw, on her delicate, slender white ankle, a black moth — wings in mid-flutter.
A strange tattoo.
A strange woman.
Lin Luxiao tossed his key onto the cabinet and changed into slippers, walking inside.
Nan Chu stood in the doorway. Thinking of the past, she remembered that whenever he came through the door, it was always change shoes, toss key.
She followed him in and closed the door behind her with her hand. She looked around but couldn’t find any extra pair of slippers. She looked up again, and the man had taken off his outer jacket and gone into the bedroom, folding the military coat in half and hanging it over the back of the sofa.
“Are there any slippers!” Nan Chu called toward the inside.
A moment later, a languid voice drifted back: “No.”
Not even disposable shoe covers. Nan Chu simply took her shoes off and walked in barefoot.
Lin Luxiao came out wearing a white T-shirt on top and still in his military trousers, slippers on his feet. He sat himself down on the sofa, elbows on his knees, and reached for the cigarette pack on the coffee table. He took one out, lit it, and smoked on the sofa.
Nan Chu looked around and noticed his flat was larger overall than before. But he didn’t have many things — probably because he didn’t live here year-round — and the place lacked any feeling of being truly inhabited.
The clock on the wall ticked steadily.
“This flat of yours is missing a mistress of the house.”
After ten minutes of observation, Nan Chu delivered her verdict.
Lin Luxiao was directly taken aback, shooting her a mild look. He gave a curl of his lips and paid her no mind, turning his head back to smoke.
Nan Chu walked over and stood in front of him.
The two of them face to face — one standing, one seated with legs crossed.
The hem of Nan Chu’s dress kept drifting lightly, occasionally brushing against his feet — a little ticklish.
He looked down at it, cigarette between his fingers.
The girl standing there barefoot, her toes each slender and fine, like the tender shoots of a lotus root. The moth at her ankle was more visible now, as if moving with the swaying hem of the dress.
“What do you think of me?”
Lin Luxiao looked up and met her bright, round eyes.
Pupils blacker than ink, with a glimmer of moisture.
He lowered his gaze, eyes travelling downward.
Nan Chu had her arms folded, bending slightly toward him. The flesh at her chest was pressed together in a heap. The little black dress was doing its job magnificently — below the smooth, fair collarbone was the beautiful, full curve of a woman’s figure. It was an entirely different landscape from the flat plains of their last encounter.
Lin Luxiao thought to himself:
Holy hell. That really is something remarkable.
The night always had something special about it. Looking out at the stillness beyond the window, it always felt as if the force of a man was somehow magnified in the unseen, and a woman appeared all the more alluring — stirring endless imaginings.
“Go put your shoes on at the door,” Lin Luxiao said.
He found it unsettling to look at.
Nan Chu did not move.
Lin Luxiao kicked his own slippers over to her. “Put them on.”
Nan Chu contentedly slipped into them — a man’s size 43, still holding a trace of warmth.
“Your feet are enormous. Seems bigger than most men’s.” A heartfelt observation.
Lin Luxiao let out a short, amused breath, took a drag of his cigarette, and raised an eyebrow lightly: “You’d know — you’ve seen quite a few.”
“……”
Suddenly, a phone rang — Lin Luxiao’s. Nan Chu pointed at his glowing trouser pocket. He glanced down, cigarette still between his fingers, and moved her to one side with a light grip. “Stand here and don’t move.” He then glanced at the hem of her dress.
Once satisfied that it wouldn’t brush against him again, he fished his phone out of his pocket.
That dress was genuinely unsettling the way it kept brushing against him.
The call had barely connected before someone on the other end bellowed: “Open the door for your old man!”
Lin Luxiao instinctively glanced at her, then said to the phone: “Not opening it.”
“……”
“Your old man came to celebrate your birthday!”
Lin Luxiao frowned. He was clearly fed up. “I’m already asleep.”
“Don’t open it, I’ll keep calling. Hang up and I’ll call non-stop. Turn it off and I’ll ram the door down!”
Lin Luxiao swore under his breath, tossed his phone onto the sofa, and went to open the door.
The door swung open.
“Happy birthday! Ta-da!”
First, two hands reached inside, holding two bottles of red wine. Then a round, chubby head poked in, round and plump as a glutinous rice ball.
The chubby man spotted Nan Chu standing in the middle of the living room at once.
“Holy sh*t!!!!!!!!”
With his thunderous shout, five or six heads all poked in behind him.
Then came a perfectly synchronised collective roar: “Holy sh*t!!!!!!!!!!!”
Lin Luxiao: “What’s wrong with you all?”
The chubby man pointed at Nan Chu behind him and, after a delayed moment of comprehension: “No wonder you wouldn’t open the door — no wonder you said you were asleep! Are we interrupting something?!”
Lin Luxiao had the cigarette between his lips, eyeing him in silence.
The chubby man walked up to Nan Chu, extended a plump, greasy large hand. “Beautiful lady, my name’s Big Liu. I’m Lin Luxiao’s childhood buddy.”
Before Nan Chu could even speak, he continued: “Why do I feel like I’ve seen you somewhere before.”
Nan Chu extended her hand too. “Hello.”
Big Liu shook it, thinking to himself: damn, what a nice feeling.
Big Liu was genuinely warm-natured. He gripped her hand and refused to let go. “Sorry about this — Luxiao didn’t tell us you were here. Had we known, we absolutely would never have come even if our lives depended on it —”
Lin Luxiao took the cigarette from his lips and kicked him square in the backside. “What are you going on about!”
Big Liu finally released her hand, snickering away: “He’s jealous! It’s so good to see you!”
“……”
“We’ve been brothers for all these years, and not one of us has ever seen this guy interact with a woman! Truly!” Big Liu held up three fingers. “I swear — he has never had a girlfriend! We all used to think there was something off about his orientation. For a time, the whole lot of us didn’t even dare hang around with him —”
“……”
Big Liu hadn’t finished speaking before Lin Luxiao grabbed him by the collar and hauled him off.
As Big Liu was dragged away, he was still muttering: “Hm — why do I feel like I’ve seen her somewhere before.”
The group of brothers all dropped onto the sofa in a row. Lin Luxiao, hands on hips, then asked Nan Chu: “You leaving first?”
Big Liu shouted immediately: “Don’t — even if someone has to leave, it should be us. Who drives out their wife? You can’t send away our little sister-in-law —”
Lin Luxiao’s face darkened. He glared at Big Liu. “Shut your mouth.”
His voice was unexpectedly relaxed.
He finished speaking and glanced at Nan Chu, gesturing for her to sit.
Nan Chu sat herself right up against Lin Luxiao, just catching the hem of his military trousers. The man’s large leg was immediately given full definition by the pressure — all muscle, firm and solid but well-proportioned. She bent her head to study it closely, astonished to find his build surpassed that of many male models by a considerable margin.
Just as Nan Chu was examining him, the black hem of her dress brushed against Lin Luxiao’s foot again.
But with the trouser edge pinned down there was no way to retract his foot. He gave her a glance, his tone flat: “Didn’t your mother teach you how to sit?”
Nan Chu smiled serenely, speaking with total composure: “Big backside. Sorry for the inconvenience.”
“……”
……
Tonight’s group were all childhood friends Lin Luxiao had grown up with. The lead one — the chubby man, Big Liu — had from childhood been attached to Lin Luxiao’s backside. If anyone spoke a bad word about Lin Luxiao, he’d charge over and knock out their front teeth. The man beside him, gripping a wine bottle and going at it fiercely with someone else, was named Sun Mingyang — also a tough type, who as a child had even come to blows with Lin Luxiao, butting heads with him at every turn. But once they’d grown up, they had realised that among all the kids from the courtyard, only the two of them had gone into the military. And the one over there — sitting alone on the single sofa, smoking in sullen silence, occasionally sipping at a glass of red wine, eyes on his phone the whole time, with a string of prayer beads on his wrist — was named Shen Mu.
Big Liu, naturally at ease with everyone, pulled Nan Chu along with enthusiasm and gave her a lively tour of the whole circle of brothers.
And Nan Chu — who had always lacked warmth from family and friends — had never experienced anything like this. There were no words for it, but her heart felt full to the brim. She could dimly see, at the far end of the light, one person after another waving at her, as if to say — welcome to his world.
Even if the master of that world was at this moment quietly smoking away, giving no particular indication.
Big Liu spoke of all this with a glow in his eyes: “Mingyang is the same as Luxiao — military too. Don’t let the fact that those two used to scrap all the time fool you. Mingyang has always thought of Luxiao. He’s always wanted to follow his lead in everything.”
As he said this, a pillow came sailing over from Sun Mingyang’s direction. Big Liu seemed to have eyes in the back of his head — already prepared — and nimbly dodged to the side. The pillow, without the slightest deviation, struck Nan Chu squarely on the forehead.
……
Lin Luxiao glanced at Sun Mingyang.
Sun Mingyang started, and quickly apologised to Nan Chu: “I’m so sorry! So sorry! My hand slipped!”
Big Liu snatched up the pillow and hurled it back, talking with great conviction as he did: “How dare you hit the little sister-in-law! Luxiao will deal with you later!”
That title “little sister-in-law” made Nan Chu feel completely refreshed. Looking at the chubby, round, roly-poly Big Liu, she found him increasingly pleasant. She then glanced at the still-silent, still-smoking Lin Luxiao beside her, and decided to be a gracious and generous little sister-in-law. She smiled warmly: “It’s fine, just messing around.”
Nan Chu was genuinely beautiful — especially done up as she was tonight. When she smiled, her eyes curved like crescent moons. Big Liu was instantly captivated, thinking to himself: damn, where on earth did Luxiao find this enchantress?!
Big Liu had been drawn to beautiful women since childhood, yet had never had any luck with them as a result.
In the old neighbourhood there had been a fortune-teller — a blind man. Within those parts he was famous for being accurate, and in those days every family that had a child born would take the child’s birth date and hour to have him do a reading.
When Lin Luxiao and his group were born, the parents of several families had all taken their birth details to the fortune-teller for a reading.
The parents went home with a few characters from the fortune-teller, treating it as tradition — accurate or not, each family held their own view.
Not until Lin Luxiao and the others had grown a little older did the tradition surface again. By then they were restless boys, and having heard of this custom, Big Liu pestered the fortune-teller day after day demanding to know Heaven’s secrets. The fortune-teller only shook his head and would not answer.
Lin Luxiao had always been indifferent to such matters. Fate, Buddhism, Taoism — he’d never put stock in any of it.
Big Liu opened his mouth and asked: “Help me figure out — how many wives will I get in the future?”
Everyone was stunned.
Lin Luxiao, commanding as ever back then, leaned against the wall, hands in pockets, kicked Big Liu in the backside, and laughed and scolded: “The state says you can only have one! How many are you hoping to get?!”
Everyone burst out laughing. The fortune-teller shook his head and said: let me give each of you one sentence.
Big Liu still remembered to this day the sentence the fortune-teller had given him.
— Fail to recognise treasure, and half your life is hard; fail to recognise people, and your whole life is hard.
To this day he hadn’t understood it, and had long since written it off as the old man being deliberately mysterious.
Big Liu pulled his attention back and continued to Nan Chu: “Truly — after Luxiao got into military school, this guy immediately went and signed up for the student recruitment programme. And his wild, reckless nature ended up landing him in the special forces by sheer accident.”
Nan Chu asked curiously: “So who wins in a fight between him and Lin Luxiao?”
“He’s never won a fight against Luxiao.” At this, Big Liu recalled one time in their youth when Lin Luxiao had turned truly ferocious and nothing could hold him back: “Luxiao is particularly ruthless. I remember one time his younger brother — Lin Qi, you know him?”
Nan Chu nodded. “I know him.”
Big Liu, hearing this, figured that if she even knew the younger brother, this little sister-in-law was well and truly confirmed. Even if not official yet, she was at the very least on her way there. So he treated Nan Chu all the more as one of their own, with enthusiastic relish: “Little Qi has always had poor health, and used to get picked on a lot at school. One time he came home with a face all battered and bruised, and Luxiao — in middle school at the time — came home, saw it, and went straight to that kid’s house and broke his nose. Me, Mingyang, and Mu-ge were all there trying to hold him back and couldn’t do it. Then he went home and his father put him in confinement and —”
Halfway through, Big Liu got kicked.
Lin Luxiao, sitting between the two of them, was flicking ash from his cigarette and shot Big Liu a look. His tone was sardonic: “With all the energy you spend spinning stories for people, why don’t you just go be a professional storyteller?”
Big Liu was indignant: “I’m keeping the lady company on your behalf! You’re just sitting there smoking away, not paying any attention to anyone — I’m helping you look after her, and you’re telling me to go be a storyteller? I’m telling you, man, with emotional intelligence this low, how did you ever get a girlfriend?”
Then it suddenly occurred to him. His eyes lit up. He looked at Lin Luxiao: “Hey — don’t tell me you’re jealous?”
Lin Luxiao rolled his eyes flatly: “Get lost.”
“Right, right, I’ll get lost, I won’t disturb you two.”
And then Big Liu truly got lost — off to play a drinking game with Sun Mingyang. Sun Mingyang clearly found him a bit much, smacked him on the forehead and also told him to get lost. Big Liu turned to Shen Mu — who was sitting nearby smoking in a sulk, occasionally taking a sip of red wine, eyes entirely on his phone — and poured out his grievances: “Mu-ge, tell me — how are both these soldiers so rough? Always telling people to get lost.”
Shen Mu, without looking up: “Get lost.”
“……”
Big Liu was quiet for a moment. “Don’t you believe in Buddhism? The Buddha says you’re not supposed to swear.”
……
With Big Liu gone, the sofa suddenly became much more spacious. Lin Luxiao shifted slightly to one side.
Nan Chu looked at the small gap that had opened between them and asked him: “Why didn’t you explain?”
Lin Luxiao turned to look at her. “Explain what?”
“Explain that I’m not your girlfriend.”
Those brothers of his — Lin Luxiao had known them since childhood and understood their personalities inside out. The more you explained, the more they’d think you had something to hide. And besides, he had never been someone who explained himself. Given time they would understand on their own.
Moreover, at that moment, he had reckoned that this would be his and Nan Chu’s last meeting. He would drive her home, say clearly what needed to be said, and tell Nan Chu not to come looking for him again. Once Big Liu and the others no longer saw her around, they would naturally understand it had all been a misunderstanding — so why spend the length of a cigarette explaining.
He had an unlit cigarette between his lips. He smiled slightly and said nothing.
He leaned forward, about to reach for the lighter on the coffee table — but the sharp-eyed, quick-handed Nan Chu got there first.
The black metal square lighter sat in the woman’s pale, soft hand. Nan Chu gave it a casual spin, oriented it, then with a slender fingertip lightly flicked — the lid snapped open, her thumb turned the wheel, and a flame leapt up in an instant.
A dancing flame.
Lin Luxiao’s hand was still suspended mid-air. He leaned slightly toward her, cigarette still between his lips, watching her.
The living room light was on, and yet somehow the small flame seemed even brighter.
“Hurry up — it’s burning my hand,” Nan Chu murmured softly.
Lin Luxiao gave a low laugh, leaned forward, and with her flame lit the cigarette. He settled back into the sofa, exhaling smoke, and turned to glance at the girl beside him.
Bright eyes, luminous and lovely.
For no particular reason, he suddenly thought of the time he had left Heng Street after passing the military school exam.
The words the fortune-teller had spoken to him at the entrance of the third alley.
“You, child, have an unyielding spirit, a man of fire in your blood. You will be a hero one day.”
And right after that, the fortune-teller had let out a sigh.
He did not really believe in such things, but found it interesting all the same, so he asked: “What are you sighing about?”
The fortune-teller said: “Since ancient times, heroes have always struggled to pass the beauty.”