A snake lay softly on the ground, flicking its tongue. It had a yellow base pattern with black borders, appearing colorful at first glance. It was non-venomous and quite gentle in temperament—a corn snake commonly found in this area. The rear of the military unit was near a corn snake breeding farm, and occasionally a few mischievous ones would slip in, lying limply on the ground watching you.
These snakes had a gentle nature without any aggression. After a few encounters, they became familiar with the soldiers. Sometimes after combat training, if the soldiers happened to spot one on the ground, they’d immediately recognize it, squat down, and pat its head: “Little Yellow, it’s you again.”
Even the girls from the cultural troupe who didn’t visit often had seen this snake several times. They joked that it was female, definitely female—perhaps it had taken a fancy to one of the soldier boys, otherwise why would it be so attached to this small plot of land?
Yu Hao was shielded by his body, her eyes covered, his hot breath warming her skin. Her heart pounded wildly, but she didn’t understand what he had said.
He pressed too tightly against her; she couldn’t catch her breath. With her head lowered, her voice came out broken, “See… what?”
So she hadn’t seen it. Lu Huaizheng exhaled and looked back at Little Yellow, who lay on the ground giving him a cool glance as if saying: you’re making a fuss over nothing—
At the same time.
Sui Zi walked out from inside, also startled upon seeing Little Yellow on the ground. She instinctively started to call out Little Yellow’s name, then turned her head to see Lu Huaizheng pressing Yu Hao against the wall, one hand covering her eyes, his index finger on his lips making a shushing gesture toward her.
Sui Zi clicked her tongue but obediently kept quiet.
Then she bent down and stealthily went over, skillfully picking up Little Yellow and taking it away.
Sui Zi had raised snakes since childhood. She had always been particularly fascinated by these strange, soft-bodied creatures. While other girls’ rooms were filled with various dolls, hers was like a zoo. Eventually, her brother couldn’t stand it anymore. Once when he went to the bathroom, the snake that had been cooling off on the doorframe accidentally fell and draped itself around his neck. Her brother initially thought it was a belt or something similar. When he touched it and found it slippery and moving, he was so frightened that he immediately stuffed it into the toilet. Afterward, he threatened to end their sibling relationship, saying it was either him or the snake.
After Sui Zi had gone far enough away, Lu Huaizheng released his hand and stepped back slightly, putting his hands in his pockets. He looked down at her, then felt awkward, rubbed the bridge of his nose with the back of his hand, and put it back in his pocket. He repeated this twice but couldn’t squeeze out a single word.
As the male presence faded, Yu Hao opened her eyes. The light behind him was piercing, making it slightly difficult to adjust. She squinted a little; his silhouette was blurred, making him appear impossibly handsome as he stood there watching her without saying a word.
“You…”
“You…”
They spoke almost simultaneously, one looking down, one looking up. Their gazes met, then shyly turned away, both stopping abruptly. In the golden, painting-like sunset glow, they stood like flower and leaf—the flower leaning on the leaf, the leaf protecting the flower. Words halted, eyes spoke volumes, thoughts beyond expression.
Lu Huaizheng smiled: “You go first.”
Yu Hao stopped being coy and met his eyes, asking directly like a child demanding candy, with both directness and childlike spirit:
“Give me back the photo from your phone.”
Lu Huaizheng was taken aback. “What photo?”
“The one you forced me to take with you in the snow. Sui Zi said you still have it.”
He had always been reluctant to change his phone, feeling that if he did, something would be different when he opened that photo again. After that brick-like phone broke, he exported the photo and even had Lin Chang find the discontinued model to buy one back, then imported the photo into it, purely to keep as a memento.
He smiled, looking down at her: “Yes, I still have it. Didn’t you say you didn’t want it back then?”
Yu Hao deliberately put on a stern face: “Even if I didn’t want it, you shouldn’t keep it. Next time you get your phone, you must delete the photo. Who knows what inappropriate things you might do with my picture.”
Lu Huaizheng didn’t avoid the question at all. With skin as thick as a city wall, he frankly admitted, nodding: “I’ve done quite a few inappropriate things.”
“Where’s your shame?”
Again, that unconcerned smile: “I gave it up the day I met you.”
“Your skill at sweet-talking girls hasn’t changed one bit.”
“Wrong.” Lu Huaizheng corrected her, “Not girls, just you.”
“Shameless,” Yu Hao snorted.
He also smiled, turning his head to look at the sun’s position to judge the time. Finding it wasn’t far off, he put away his smile and looked at her seriously: “I’m returning to Beijing tomorrow.”
Yu Hao was suspicious, wanting to ask if it was so soon.
Whether it was from the heat or the stuffiness of the sunset glow, small beads of sweat appeared on Yu Hao’s forehead. Lu Huaizheng instinctively raised his hand to wipe them away, then tucked the few loose strands of hair behind her ear.
Yu Hao’s mind suddenly stopped working. Her chest tightened slightly, and she breathed in small gasps like a little fish.
After Lu Huaizheng finished arranging her hair, his dark eyes were filled with deep emotion, like ripples blooming on a summer night river, making her heart flutter. One hand rested on her shoulder as he bent down to stare at her intently, full of temptation: “When I come back from Beijing, shall we talk?”
Yu Hao stiffened against the wall. “Talk about what?”
“What do you think?” He deliberately moved closer to her, smiling meaningfully, teasing her: “The betrothal gifts?”
Zhao senior sister!
Yu Hao was both angry and flustered, her face instantly turning red. She kicked him and hurriedly turned to leave, but Lu Huaizheng blocked her return with one hand against the wall, completely encircling her in his arms, comforting her: “I’m not joking anymore. I have something to tell you. Will you wait for me to come back?”
“Okay,” Yu Hao looked up at him. “When will you be back?”
He shook his head, “Not sure, but I should be back after Qingming Festival.”
Yu Hao calculated—it was still a week until Qingming. “So long? Are you going alone?”
He nodded slightly again, “Chen Rui is going back with me. Sun Kai will stay at the base for training. I’ve already spoken with Sun Kai and Old Tang. If you need anything, just tell them, and they’ll send someone to town to buy it. Don’t go out alone. I’ll be in Beijing—don’t make me worry.”
“Is Sui Zi going back with you?”
Lu Huaizheng gave her a meaningful look for a long time. Yu Hao raised her head but wouldn’t look at him. Then he moved aside, his lips slightly curved, saying slowly:
“We’re leaving together, but not in the same car.”
Seeing she didn’t speak.
He smiled annoyingly and asked: “Was it because of Sui Zi the other day?”
She remained silent.
“The thing Sui Zi gave me that day was something I asked her to bring from Northern Xinjiang. Years ago, when my grandfather was stationed in Northern Xinjiang, he met my grandmother, got married, and had several children. You know soldiers are rarely home. My grandmother couldn’t bear that kind of life, so she divorced my grandfather and returned to Northern Xinjiang. My grandfather never remarried, but my grandmother formed a new family in Northern Xinjiang. My grandfather didn’t dare disturb her, so he remained alone all these years. My grandmother used to sell ox horn combs—the yak horn kind. They met when he was buying a comb. After the divorce, my grandfather always treasured that comb. But when I returned to the old house recently, I found the comb was missing. Our family doesn’t have many heirlooms, and that ox horn comb counts as one. Fearing my grandfather might hold me accountable from beyond the grave, I asked Sui Zi to buy a new one.”
“But it’s not the original one anymore. Would your grandfather blame you?”
“I’ll have to go apologize to my grandfather after I’m gone.”
“Maybe your grandfather threw it away himself?”
Lu Huaizheng had considered this possibility, but then thought, how could someone as devoted as his grandfather do such a thing? If it were him, he wouldn’t be able to part with it either, after keeping it for so many years. Yet perhaps, when people reach old age, when they approach death, at the final moment when life is extinguished, they suddenly understand and let go.
The wind blew gently, the sunset glow faded somewhat, the sun sank in the west, and dusk settled all around. The wind began to carry a hint of coolness.
“Sui Zi has someone she likes. I’ll tell you about it when there’s a chance. Don’t overthink.” Having said that, Lu Huaizheng vigorously ruffled her hair. “Silly.”
Yu Hao shook off his hand, smoothed her hair, and asked him:
“What are you going back for this time?”
He was silent for a while, then said solemnly: “Turkey has launched a military coup. One of the masterminds is the former air force commander.”
Yu Hao was startled, and incredulous. This morning’s news had still been about world peace and prosperity.
Seeing through her thoughts, he leaned against the wall and briefly explained to her: “The news will come out soon. We don’t get involved in other countries’ political issues, but we need to protect the Chinese nationals there. As for the rest, you understand.”
Classified—he couldn’t say more.
War, plunder, famine, hardship—aren’t the common people always the ones who suffer?
Yu Hao felt compassion in her heart and lowered her head.
Lu Huaizheng noticed her mood and put his hand on her head, stroking it comfortingly: “It’s not that the world is peaceful, but that we live in a peaceful country. Even China’s history took thousands of tumultuous years to arrive at this moment. The former Beiping and Nanjing were built on the bones and blood of our ancestors.” He smiled, withdrew his hand, put it back in his pocket, and looked at her: “We study to rise above others and change our fate; our ancestors studied to revitalize China and change the nation’s destiny. So, we should be grateful we weren’t born in those chaotic times.”
Yu Hao felt hot tears and a slight ache in the tip of her nose.
“If we were born in that era, perhaps…”
He smiled, his expression unchanged, hands in his pockets, leaning against the wall next to her. He tilted his head toward her and said: “That’s not necessarily true. In times of adversity, people with ambition can still emerge, perhaps there would still be Lin Zexu, Liang Qichao, Kang Youwei… Just like the ancestral precepts of the Ming Dynasty—no appeasement through marriage, no war reparations, no ceding of territory, no tribute payments. The emperor guards the gates of the nation; the monarch dies for the country. No matter how incompetent the Ming emperors were, they ultimately fulfilled their duty to guard the gates and die for the country. On a grand scale, these are ancestral precepts; on a smaller scale, they are family values.”
From today’s conversation, Yu Hao felt as if she had come to know this man anew. His appearance hadn’t changed, but the spirit in his bones was something she had never seen before.
When speaking of people’s livelihoods, he showed compassion; when discussing the nation, he was full of passion; when talking about history, he was vigilant and self-aware; when speaking of love, he was this romantic.
It was like getting to know him all over again, drawing her in unconsciously.
Yes.
If the nation does not exist, where shall one place oneself?
Though bones break and blood flows, mountains and rivers remain unyielding, and green hills still smile in the spring breeze.