Chapter 11 Visiting my second brother Xue Fengrong

Xue Qingdai had her own little stash of money. Part of it was secretly slipped into her pocket by Yang Xiaomin before she left, and the rest came from New Year’s red envelopes. While shopping yesterday, she made the decision herself to buy a pair of Beijing-style cloth shoes for each of her three brothers—black tops, red soles, lightweight and comfortable.

The third brother, Xue Yongkang, loved them. When they got back to the guesthouse, he tried them on three times but still couldn’t bear to wear them for everyday use.

“Little sister, you can’t spend money so freely from now on. Buy more nice food for yourself,” he said. His size-44 feet could harvest corn barefoot in the fields, or he could wear shoes full of holes to work at the county’s electronics factory. Holding the cool shoes in his hands, his heart felt blazing warm.

Xue Qingdai pretended to be annoyed, “Third brother, the shoes I bought aren’t like other people’s. If you don’t wear them, they’ll just be chewed to pieces by the mice at home. I won’t allow that.”

Then she took out a few pairs of thick gloves, “Third brother, you get a pair of these too.”

“Alright…” Xue Yongkang didn’t want the mice to ruin his shoes either, so he decided to wear the new pair when they went to visit second brother.

Xue Qingdai continued sorting through her haul. Yesterday she and her third brother had a clear plan—she picked things out, and he haggled. Since she wanted to pay with her own money, she got scolded by her brother multiple times. So, since he couldn’t pay, he bargained even harder, and many shopkeepers remembered them as the merciless sibling pair.

She bought a pair of fleece-lined work gloves for everyone in the family. She also got wool sweaters for her father and grandfather to keep them warm. For her mother, Yang Xiaomin, she bought a red dress—because a woman should be beautiful at any age.

Her small savings were nearly spent, but Xue Qingdai felt satisfied. This life, though modest, felt more real than the one where she once sat on a fortune of billions as a doctor. Money could come and go, but true affection was rare.

Though daily life was as bland as porridge and vegetables with barely any oil, her spirit was always wrapped in care and warmth. All she wanted now was to dissolve the troublesome engagement in the capital and protect her small, loving family.

Xue Yongkang carried everything on him, especially making sure the shoes for second brother were in plain view—his little sister’s thoughtful gift. They also brought along homemade mushroom sauce, pickled vegetables, a small bag of lard scraps, four pairs of hand-stitched insoles, and two cotton vests—things their mother Yang Xiaomin had prepared.

In the past, items for Xue Fengrong were sent by an old friend of their grandfather. Every year in mid-November, this friend would deliver them.

Back at the military district, Xue Fengrong scratched at the itchy frostbite on his hands, pulled out a rock-hard coarse-grain biscuit from his pocket—his breakfast—took another sip of cold water, and got ready for another ten-plus kilometers of weighted running.

After the run, drenched in sweat, he greeted his comrades cheerfully. Xue Fengrong looked like their father, Xue Chengyi—square-faced with thick brows, large eyes, full lips, and a gentle expression that brought people peace. His personality resembled that of his grandfather Xue Deming—steady, dependable, and with a strong sense of belief. He was a natural soldier.

Xue Deming had made strategic decisions for the family long ago: the eldest son, Xue Shiyou, who was sensitive in social interactions, was pushed into politics to protect the family’s roots; the second son, Xue Fengrong, who was strong-willed and competitive, was sent to the military to safeguard their prosperity.

The younger siblings, Xue Yongkang and Xue Qingdai, were born years later. Their upbringing wasn’t as strict. When the delicate Qingdai teared up during studies, no one in the family had the heart to be harsh. Yongkang also grew up freely, always full of ideas.

People often joked that Director Yang’s second batch of kids were a pair of wild troublemakers—“famous far and wide.”

Xue Fengrong, seen as the most “normal” in the village and also the most successful, was, in truth, also a doting big brother. Though he rarely came home, he never missed a month of sending his little sister a few dozen yuan for pocket money. Yang Xiaomin saved all of it, knowing her second son’s life was the hardest—he lived as if licking blood off a blade.

Xue Fengrong’s attitude toward his younger siblings was clearly different. This was evident in the things he sent home. He had recently bought a pair of black leather shoes and a bright red scarf on his last leave—all sent home through Grandpa’s old friend, Uncle Yu.

He even forgot he had a younger brother.

In his dorm, Xue Fengrong clumsily wrapped a package to mail. He did it many times, afraid it would get dirty and make his little sister upset. He even packed a whole bag of White Rabbit candies—meant only for Qingdai. The third brother was grown and didn’t need that much sugar—it wasn’t good for him anyway.

“Captain Xue, Regiment Commander Xie Yan is waiting for you at the shooting range. He says he has something to talk to you about,” said Liu Zhihong, exhaling white mist into the cold air while rubbing his hands.

Xue Fengrong’s heart tightened, though his expression didn’t change. He responded warmly, “Got it, Xiao Liu.”

Liu Zhihong tucked his hands into his sleeves, gazing at Xue Fengrong’s warm features. Something about his gentle eyes looked very familiar. He shook his head, thinking maybe he was hallucinating from lack of sleep.

“Another care package for your sister, Captain Xue?” Liu asked as they walked side by side.

Xue Fengrong, now dressed in his old military coat and dark felt hat, his tall, broad figure towering—he was the tallest in the Xue family. He eyed Liu Zhihong warily and answered coolly, “New Year’s coming up. Just sending some things home.”

He handed Liu a military biscuit to shut him up. Liu was delighted—those compressed rations were a rare treat, and he tore it open to eat immediately.

When he met Xie Yan, Xue Fengrong smiled broadly, but there was a faint chill in his eyes. “Xie Yan, what brings you here today? Want to spar?”

The two men clasped wrists in a firm handshake, both silently applying pressure. A full minute passed before either let go.

Xie Yan and Xue Fengrong had become friends through sparring back at the PLA National Defense University, where they were famously dubbed the “Twin Stars.” Xie Yan often edged out victories in their matches, but Xue didn’t mind—he wasn’t a sore loser. On the contrary, he was proud the country had such a talent in Xie Yan.

But after Xie became his future brother-in-law, that pride turned to guardedness. He strictly blocked any news about Qingdai from reaching Xie Yan, afraid he’d snatch her home too early.

Xie Yan holstered his Type 64 pistol, eyes deep and fixed on the perfect bullseye he’d just hit. This shooting range cleared his mind.

He could read the caution in Xue Fengrong’s eyes clearly. So, the Xue family had never really wanted to marry their young daughter off to him. No wonder, even though he’d remained silent all these years, the Xues had never uttered a single complaint.

He’d been played…

Xie Yan was ready to open up and talk honestly about his desire to peacefully end the engagement. After all, his infertility would only bring harm to the girl.

“This isn’t about sparring. Xue Fengrong, I wanted to talk to you seriously—about your sister and our engagement.”

A flash of cold light passed through Xue Fengrong’s eyes when suddenly a soldier came running toward them.

“Captain Xue! Your family is here for a visit!”

“A young man and a girl—she’s very pretty. Could she be the legendary little sister we’ve all heard about?”