CHAPTER 11 

Gu Cheng’an leaned lazily against the back of the chair. If his grandfather and father, who were both soldiers in the family, saw him, they would definitely say that he was sitting in an untidy manner. His left hand was casually resting on the edge of the wooden chair, and his long legs had nowhere to rest, taking up a huge space .

It was a rare moment when a smile appeared in his dark eyes, and it was obvious that he was in a very good mood.

Su Yin lifted her gaze and met his jet-black eyes. In their depths, she could faintly catch a glimmer of mischief and teasing.

Her throat tightened. His question caught her off guard. Naturally, she couldn’t act like Gu Chenghui, shamelessly throwing herself at people and speaking in a playful tone. Her long lashes fluttered, and she simply said lightly, “Thank you.”

Gu Cheng’an nodded as if it didn’t matter, then turned back to continue chatting with Han Qingwen and the others.

—

Ever since she’d helped Gu Cheng’an solve his “going out” problem, Su Yin noticed that he didn’t seem as cold as before. Perhaps it was because she had become his perfect shield.

Which was just as well—she occasionally needed to go to the post office herself, to check for letters or send one to her great-aunt to let her know she was safe.

And so, once again, both of them told Old Master Gu they were going out. Su Yin, perfectly self-aware, said goodbye and headed off in the opposite direction from Gu Cheng’an without the slightest hesitation.

Gu Cheng’an watched her slender back for a moment, feeling as if this person was even more heartless than he was. Those two braided pigtails swayed gently as she walked, looking rather carefree.

Shaking his head, he set off toward Han Qingwen’s house.

…

“Yinyin, there’s a letter for you.”

At the supply and marketing cooperative in the south of the city, Song Yuan handed Su Yin an envelope as soon as she saw her. “It’s from the newspaper again!”

The moment she saw the return letter, Su Yin’s heart bloomed with joy—but her face stayed calm, only lifting slightly at the corners. “I’ll take a look first.”

Inside was a reply from the editor and a five-yuan manuscript fee. Clearly, the article she had sent out half a month ago had been accepted.

“What?! The provincial newspaper is publishing your piece?” Song Yuan looked her up and down, eyes sparkling. “You’re amazing!”

“Come on, I’ll treat you to some candy.” Su Yin was in high spirits at earning money. Since Song Yuan had been kind enough to receive the letter for her, she definitely needed to return the favor.

Right then and there at the co-op, she used some sugar ration tickets from Jingfang, spent twenty cents on a jin of peanut brittle and a jin of sponge cake, and stopped by the post office to buy the latest issue of the newspaper.

“Hurry, let’s see!” Song Yuan was clearly more excited than the person in question. She scanned the page for literary submissions, eyes locking on the lower-left corner—there it was, a literacy article signed “Shu Yin.”

“Wow, this is so good. Were you top of the class in Chinese before?”

“In all subjects, Chinese was my best—and my favorite.” Su Yin nodded.

Looking at that small printed corner with her own words on it, Su Yin felt a warm swell in her chest. She never imagined that one day her writing would make it into the paper. If only Grandpa could see it…

After mailing a letter to her great-aunt and buying pastries for the Gu family, Su Yin was walking back toward the military compound in the slanting afternoon sun when a 28-bar bicycle came speeding straight toward her—without the slightest sign of slowing down.

“Sorry about that!”

The young man riding the bicycle braked hard, apologizing for nearly running into her. “My bike’s been acting up—almost couldn’t stop in time.”

“Oh, it’s fine.” Su Yin had been startled, but turned to leave—only to hear the man speak again.

“You’re Gu Cheng’an’s childhood fiancée?”

Su Yin gave him a neutral look. The man wore gold-rimmed glasses, his manner warm and polite, his expression sincere.

“Don’t mind me, I only heard it from folks in the compound. You’re Su Yin, right? I’m Wen Jun—I’m pretty close with Gu Cheng’an and the others. If you ever need help with anything, you can come to me.”

“Ah, thank you.” Su Yin accepted the stranger’s goodwill, searching her memory of the novel for his name. Nothing came up.

Back at the Gu house, she gave Aunt Wu a few pieces of cake, left the rest in the living room, and headed upstairs.

Her very first submission had been a success. Brimming with motivation, Su Yin pulled out the paper again to check the new topic for submissions, then took out pen and paper to start writing.

The fountain pen’s nib whispered across the white page, graceful characters appearing one after another.

=

Gu Cheng’an was also reading the newspaper just then. Both Old Master Gu and his father loved to read it daily, but he usually only picked it up if he’d heard something interesting—like last time, when someone’s discussion of an article had given him an idea.

In a dim, abandoned building, Hu Libin read aloud the latest submission piece from the paper, his voice full of feeling.

“Hey, you think I could make money by submitting something? Just one piece gets you five yuan!”

Han Qingwen shot him a look. “Write a hundred characters first—then we’ll talk about a few thousand.”

The group burst out laughing.

“Forget it, I’m no writer. Shooting’s more my thing. An’ge, when are we going, exactly?”

They hadn’t joined the army, but as kids from military families, they’d grown up surrounded by soldiers. They liked wearing uniforms and loved shooting practice. Out on the outskirts, there was a shooting range where the compound boys sometimes went to train.

“This Sunday.” Gu Cheng’an’s eyes swept over the article—about literacy, and surprisingly well-written. He didn’t look up as he answered.

“Great!” At the mention of guns, everyone’s eyes lit up.

Once the plan was set, Gu Cheng’an remembered he had another task. He hopped on his bicycle and headed to the steel plant where his second uncle lived. Old Master Gu hadn’t said anything, but he’d been sighing all day—he missed his wife.

No one else in the family could persuade the sulking Old Madam to come back. Only he could.

—

When Su Yin finished her draft and went downstairs, she noticed something different in the Gu household that night.

Aunt Wu was simmering fish soup—two crucian carp bubbling away in the pot, turning the broth a creamy white. On another stove, minced pork tofu was cooking.

“Aunt Wu, are we having guests today?” Su Yin went over to help wash vegetables, asking in passing.

“Your Cheng’an’s grandmother is coming home.”

Aunt Wu’s face was all smiles. Last time she’d visited the Old Madam at the second son’s house, she’d found her in high spirits and perfectly happy there, so much so she had flat-out refused to return—leaving Old Master Gu fuming.

“Grandma Wang is finally coming back? Did Grandpa Gu go to fetch her?”

“Nope. Your Grandma Wang has no wish to see Grandpa Gu. Old Master asked Cheng’an to bring her back.”

“Then can we get her back?”

“Of course. You just wait—there’s nothing Cheng’an can’t handle.”

The setting sun spilled orange-gold light over the bluestone road, stretching all the way to the Gu family gate. Inside, dinner was already laid out, only two places left empty.

Old Master Gu kept craning his neck toward the doorway. Qian Jingfang, well aware of her father-in-law’s thoughts, spoke up gently.

“Dad, I’ll go take a look.”

“Mhm.” The old man nodded, forcing himself to rein in his eagerness.

Su Yin stole a glance at Grandpa Gu. He really was different—couldn’t even hide the worry on his face.

“Dad, Mom’s back! Cheng’an’s helping her inside,” Qian Jingfang called as she turned back.

“Really?” The old man shot up from his seat, voice pitching higher. Catching everyone at the table looking his way, he flushed, sat down again, and muttered, “Good, good. We can eat now.”

“Grandma, Grandpa’s been missing you,” Cheng’an teased as he walked in with a kindly old lady.

The old woman was sixty-six, hair streaked with white, her face warm and gentle. After greeting her son, daughter-in-law, and grandniece, she turned toward the young girl in the room.

“This must be the Su family girl?”

“Hello, Grandma Wang. I’m Su Yin.”

“Oh my! You’ve grown so much—and such a beauty.” Wang Caiyun’s eyes curved into happy slits as she clasped Su Yin’s hand, memories spilling out. “Why, back in the day I even stitched up your grandfather’s wound. We’ve been old acquaintances a long time.”

“Grandpa used to talk about you—said you were the best at stitching in the whole military hospital.”

“Hahahaha.” Wang Caiyun laughed until she couldn’t close her mouth, patting Su Yin’s hand. “Good child. Your grandfather raised you well.”

“Ahem.”

The only one being thoroughly ignored—Old Master Gu—coughed meaningfully. His wife flicked him a glance, then turned back to her conversation.

“Ahem.” He coughed again and fixed his gaze on his grandson. “Cheng’an, help your grandma sit down so you can talk while you eat.”

“Alright.” Cheng’an agreed cheerfully, coaxing his grandmother to her seat.

The moment she sat down, the corners of Old Master Gu’s mouth lifted—though his wife never once glanced his way and spent the whole meal doting on the juniors.

After dinner, hearing that his grandson planned to go out again the next day, the old man’s face darkened, ready to lecture him—only for his wife to cast him a warning look. He shut his mouth immediately.

She cleared her throat; he rushed to pour her tea. “Here, moisten your throat.”

“Don’t need anything from you.” She turned her head away.

He bulged his eyes, shuffled closer, and lowered his voice. “Xiao Yun, the children are watching—give me a little face…”

“What face? With that temper of yours?” She shot him a glare and headed for the bedroom.

“Hey—walk slower, don’t trip!” Forgetting all about his grandson, the old man hurried after her.

With Grandma home, Cheng’an’s standing in the household rose, while Grandpa’s dropped. Even his voice got noticeably quieter.

Su Yin found it amusing. She’d thought Grandma must be fiery to keep such a hot-tempered old man in line, but she turned out to be so gentle.

Wu Aunt, busy peeling potatoes, explained the story behind the couple.

“This is nothing. Back when the old master was still a regimental commander, his temper was even worse. All the soldiers under him were scared stiff. Once, after getting injured, he came to the field hospital to have stitches done—and threw a tantrum. Pulled the wound open again in the process. Nearly drove your Grandma mad. She was just a nurse back then, devoted to saving lives. She didn’t care what rank he was—gave him a full scolding.”

Even now, Old Master Gu could recall it clearly—this petite nurse, voice soft as water, delivering words that ought to have been irritating. But for some reason, he just couldn’t get angry.

“So that’s how they met.” Su Yin was fascinated.

“That’s right. And later, I heard your grand-uncle say he’d already decided—he was going to marry that little nurse.” Wu Aunt had been in the Gu family for years and knew everything about the elder and middle generations.

“Not just Cheng’an’s grandpa—his dad was just as fast, sharp, and decisive when chasing his wife. Why hasn’t Cheng’an caught on yet?” Wu Aunt sighed.

Su Yin thought of how Gu Cheng’an treated Xin Mengqi and nodded. “He really hasn’t caught on.”

“Who hasn’t caught on?” Gu Cheng’an’s voice came from the doorway. Sweaty from the summer heat, he headed straight for the kitchen to grab some watermelon. Hearing Su Yin’s comment, he stopped at the door.