Chapter 42

Lin Xiang recognized the middle-aged man’s identity just by looking at his appearance.

When Aunt Feng stepped forward to introduce him, it only confirmed her guess.

“Xiangxiang, this is Hongyuan’s father and his wife. You can call them Uncle Zhou and Aunt Wei,” Feng Li whispered to Lin Xiang before turning to her husband’s older brother and his wife. “Brother, sister-in-law, this is He Hong’s fiancée. The two of them are doing well together—they look like a perfect match.”

Even though Lin Xiang had already heard about the outrageous things He Hongyuan’s father had done in the past and had formed her own judgment, she still had to be polite for now. “Uncle Zhou, Aunt Wei,” she greeted respectfully.

Zhou Shengqiang was in his forties, yet he remained exceptionally fit. In his early years, he had participated in numerous battles, earning his merits through blood and sweat. Now, he was a well-known commander in the Northwest Military District.

His battlefield-honed presence was formidable. His sharp gaze examined the poised young woman before him as his sister-in-law’s introduction echoed in his ears—this was his eldest son’s fiancée.

Thinking of his eldest son, he felt a headache coming on.

Standing beside Zhou Shengqiang, his wife, Wei Minhui, wore a smile. Her voice was as soft and gentle as spring rain. “Comrade Lin Xiang, you’re such a beauty—such a lovely young girl.”

Lin Xiang had no interest in exchanging pleasantries with her fiancé’s unreliable father and his new wife. She was in an awkward position, so after greeting them, she excused herself. “Uncle Zhou, Aunt Feng, I won’t disturb your conversation. I’ll head upstairs first.”

Zhou Yuezhu couldn’t bear the atmosphere either. Though Uncle Zhou and his wife were indeed close family—probably the closest relatives she had—she still knew about the situation between him and his former wife. Seeing Lin Xiang take the excuse to leave, she couldn’t sit still and got up to follow.

The two younger women slipped upstairs, and only after entering Lin Xiang’s room did they finally breathe a sigh of relief.

Zhou Yuezhu sank into a wooden chair with a sigh. “Ugh, why did Uncle Zhou and his wife come over?”

Although Uncle Zhou had always been good to her father, and the two of them were as close as real brothers, she still felt that he had done something wrong. But as a junior, every time she voiced her opinion, she would be brushed off with a “kids shouldn’t meddle in adult affairs.”

Lin Xiang thought about the two people downstairs and grew curious. “Yuezhu, they didn’t come specifically to see your cousin, did they?”

Zhou Yuezhu wasn’t sure and shook her head. “I don’t know. After dinner, you and my cousin went out, right? I went out for a walk too. When I came back, Uncle Zhou and his wife were already here—scared me to death. But while I was in the living room, they didn’t say much, just asked about recent happenings. The only thing I overheard was Uncle Zhou saying his son had finally learned to behave and was doing better now.”

Lin Xiang instantly understood. “You mean the son he had with Aunt Wei?”

Zhou Yuezhu nodded. “Yeah! But I don’t like him at all. He’s such a troublemaker, so annoying—nowhere near as good as my cousin. He used to bully me all the time!”

In Zhou Yuezhu’s memory, this younger cousin was only a few months younger than her, but he was terrible. As a child, he loved pulling her braids, breaking her things, and punching people. After hitting someone, he’d even cry first to play the victim. He got slightly better as he grew older, but he still enjoyed teasing her whenever he saw her.

Lin Xiang pondered the situation, thinking that He Hongyuan’s hard-earned peaceful life might soon be disrupted now that his biological father was here.

——

Downstairs in the living room, Zhou Shengqiang’s face was dark with displeasure. His stern expression was filled with dissatisfaction. “Hongyuan has been holding a grudge against me for over ten years—I don’t blame him. But marriage is a major life event. Did he really just listen to his mother and randomly find some woman to marry?”

Aunt Feng found his words offensive and couldn’t help but argue, “Brother, Xiangxiang is a good girl. She’s beautiful, well-educated, and doing well in her job at the food factory. She and Hongyuan are a good match.”

Zhou Shengqiang remained indifferent to his sister-in-law’s defense. “No matter how good she is, she’s just the daughter of an ordinary worker at the city’s machinery factory. How is she supposed to help Hongyuan?”

Zhou Shenghuai frowned and tried to reason with him. “Brother, you and Hongyuan’s mother separated long ago. You haven’t been involved in their lives for years, so why are you still worrying about his marriage? Hongyuan is not a child anymore—he can make his own decisions.”

“You’re too soft on him! And so is Guifang! How could she find him such an unsuitable match?”

Zhou Shengqiang had been the pillar of the family since childhood. He was the eldest of five siblings—an older sister above him, three younger brothers, and a little sister at the bottom. During the war, their parents had been injured while fighting in the resistance, leaving him to become the backbone of the family. Despite the danger of being captured by the enemy, he would secretly find food, always ensuring his parents, sister, and younger siblings had enough to eat. He had been the smartest kid in the village, a natural leader, and no one dared to bully the Zhou family under his watch. He had always fiercely protected his own.

Zhou Shenghuai had always admired his older brother. As a child, he loved following him around. Without his brother, their family might not have survived. Later, he admired him even more for becoming a soldier, so he followed in his footsteps and joined the army, rising through the ranks to become a brigade commander with his brother’s guidance.

Seeing his brother’s frustration over Hongyuan, Zhou Shenghuai chose to stay quiet and instead changed the subject. “Brother, is Hongfei still in the military district?”

When Zhou Shengqiang heard his younger son’s name, his expression didn’t soften in the slightest. “We had an argument earlier, and he ran off to Jinbian on his own. He’s working in a factory there now—seems to have improved a little.”

He had skill, his wife Wei Minhui was educated and knowledgeable, yet he had no idea how their son Hongfei had turned out so lazy and unreliable!

Wei Minhui quickly corrected her husband’s comment about their son, saying, “How is he just wasting time? Hongfei has matured a lot. He’s doing quite well at Shiwei Food Factory. The factory director thinks highly of him. We figured that letting him go out and gain some experience would be a good thing.”

Feng Li found the name Shiwei Food Factory somewhat familiar. After thinking for a moment, she realized—it was the same factory that Lin Xiang’s 119 Food Factory had been competing against. So, Zhou Hongfei had ended up there.

As it was already late, Zhou Shengqiang and Zhou Shenghuai, being brothers, exchanged a few words before retiring for the night.

…

That night, Lin Xiang didn’t sleep very well. In the morning, she was relieved not to run into Zhou Shengqiang and Wei Minhui, who had stayed in the guest room at the Zhou house. After breakfast, she quickly headed off to work.

He Hongyuan had recently resumed his regular work schedule and naturally didn’t have time to pick Lin Xiang up or drop her off. She rode her bicycle out of the residential compound, pedaling as the wheels gradually shifted direction.

Luckily, the Factory No.2 wasn’t too strict about work hours, but she figured it was best to inform He Hongyuan in advance.

After all, his father had come to the military district. There was no way he could avoid seeing him.

He Hongyuan had just finished leading his soldiers through their morning training. After dismissing the team so they could eat breakfast, he received a notification from the gate that Comrade Lin Xiang was waiting for him outside. Surprised, he immediately strode toward the entrance.

This was the first time Lin Xiang had seen He Hongyuan wearing only a military-green short-sleeved training shirt. His strong, muscular forearms were exposed beneath the sleeves, his firm muscles radiating heat.

“Why are you here so early? Did something happen?” He Hongyuan asked, scanning her carefully but seeing nothing unusual.

Lin Xiang had never come to the military base at this hour before, so He Hongyuan knew something must have happened.

“You…” Lin Xiang knew that He Hongyuan didn’t acknowledge his father and didn’t even want to mention him. But to keep him from being caught off guard by Zhou Shengqiang’s sudden arrival, she carefully chose her words and informed him, “Uncle Yuezhu arrived last night.”

The moment he heard those four words, the tenderness on He Hongyuan’s face vanished. His sharp eyebrows furrowed, and his expression turned severe.

“I thought it’d be best to let you know in advance, so if he comes looking for you, you won’t be caught off guard.” Lin Xiang didn’t care that some soldiers were passing by at that moment—she quickly reached out and squeezed He Hongyuan’s palm, as if offering him a bit of strength, before letting go and gripping her bicycle’s handlebars. “But stay calm. Don’t start a fight and cause trouble.”

She remembered from the book that He Hongyuan’s personality had drastically changed after childhood trauma, making him particularly stubborn and ruthless. If he got into a public argument with his father in the military district, it would be easy for others to use it against him.

After all, they were still in a politically sensitive era. Many people were just waiting for an opportunity to stir up trouble with propaganda posters. And with He Hongyuan rising so quickly—becoming a regiment commander at such a young age—there were bound to be envious rivals lurking in the background.

“Don’t worry, I can’t even be bothered to say more than a few words to him,” He Hongyuan said, his heart swelling with an uncontrollable mix of emotions as he saw how concerned Lin Xiang was for him.

“Good. I trust you can handle it. I have to go to work now—see you later.” Lin Xiang smiled at him before saying goodbye.

The anger in He Hongyuan’s heart had flared the moment he heard that man had arrived at the military district, but when he lowered his gaze and saw the woman who had come just to warn him, a touch of warmth flickered in his eyes. “Alright, take your time on the way. No need to rush.”

Seeing that He Hongyuan seemed composed, Lin Xiang felt reassured in his resilience. She placed her feet on the pedals and began cycling toward the food factory. After riding a few meters, she suddenly stopped and turned back to look.

The man was still watching her leave. She curved her lips into a smile and called out, “Let’s go out for dinner together tonight!”

He Hongyuan nodded.

Leaving behind this promise, Lin Xiang pedaled into the wind and rode away.

That morning at the factory, Lin Xiang found herself unusually distracted. While flipping through a book, she couldn’t help but think about how things were going for He Hongyuan. Given his temper and the deep resentment he held toward his father, it was highly likely that the two of them would end up arguing.

“Xiao Lin, come here for a second.” Director Zhao waved Lin Xiang over and began discussing the coconut water proposal she had previously suggested. “You mentioned we could sell coconut water, right? I’ve been thinking about it, and it seems promising. But the production process is a lot more complicated than making orange or pear soda.”

First, there was the issue of raw material procurement. Oranges and pears were grown in many regions, giving them a broad supply base. Coconuts, on the other hand, were only found in a few places, mainly concentrated in the southern provinces—especially Haining Province.

This was both an advantage and a problem. While it would be difficult for other regions to produce coconut water, making it a potentially lucrative venture, the challenge lay in sourcing the coconuts. Many areas had fruit orchards where farmers cultivated oranges and pears on mountainsides, making it easy to sign supply contracts with plantations and receive stable shipments. But where were there coconut plantations? Most coconuts in circulation were wild-grown, meaning there was no standardized cultivation, making large-scale procurement difficult.

Moreover, processing coconuts was far more labor-intensive than juicing oranges or pears. Peeling orange and pear skins was relatively easy, but cracking open coconuts was a whole different challenge.

Director Zhao thought more and more that coconut water had its unique appeal—at least in the southern provinces, it was something no one would refuse—but the production process was full of challenges.

Lin Xiang understood that Director Zhao was considering things thoroughly. From raw material procurement to production, coconut water indeed posed considerable difficulties, and she had also given it careful thought.

“Director Zhao, when it comes to sourcing raw materials, there are only two solutions: First, we harvest wild coconuts ourselves. Coconut trees are free, so whatever we can collect helps cut costs. The only downside is that picking coconuts is quite labor-intensive and time-consuming. Second, we cultivate our own coconut trees for self-sufficient production and easier management. However, this comes with its own set of challenges. Our factory is a production and processing plant—we’ve never dealt with agriculture before, and there are many complexities involved. It’s not an ideal option during the startup phase.”

Director Zhao nodded. “That makes sense. Thinking it over, the first option seems more viable, but we can’t just keep sending workers out every day to gather coconuts—it’s not a sustainable plan.”

Lin Xiang smiled. “What if we announce that we’re buying coconuts? There are plenty of unemployed people right now, and many are eager for side jobs to earn some extra money. We could pay them a fee to collect coconuts for us. For example, five cents for every ten coconuts. Since they have no initial costs, they’d only be putting in time and labor to make extra income, while we’d simply be paying for the labor.”

Director Zhao’s eyes lit up, and he slapped his thigh. “Hah! That’s a great idea!”

Lin Xiang continued, “As for processing the coconuts, we can also hire people to crack them open. Back when I was in Xifeng City, many unemployed workers took up small tasks like assembling matchboxes at home for extra income. We could do something similar. We just need to figure out how to structure the work properly.”

Director Zhao looked at Lin Xiang, genuinely impressed by how sharp and thorough her thinking was. “If we can solve this problem smoothly, I think coconut water production is completely feasible! Here’s the plan: Over the next couple of days, let’s get Qiu Hongxia and Yang Tian to study the coconut juice production process. We need to test the taste, assess the production challenges, and if it works, we’ll draft a detailed proposal for Director Huang’s approval.”

The Factory No.2 had to get approvals from the Factory No.1 for everything—after all, all funding was controlled by the Factory No.1. Even launching a new soda flavor required their consent.

“Alright, Director. When I helped out in the shrimp paste workshop last time, I made a request to the factory director—if we successfully overcome our current difficulties, I hope he’ll consider upgrading our production equipment. If everything goes well, we can use the new equipment to produce coconut water.”

After discussing the matter, lunchtime arrived.

Director Zhao and Ma Defa stayed behind to work on machinery, while Lin Xiang and Kong Zhenzhen headed early to the Factory No.1’s cafeteria. Along the way, they ran into many first-factory workers, all of whom seemed to recognize Lin Xiang, greeting her warmly.

Kong Zhenzhen chuckled. “You’re practically famous in the factory now—everyone knows you.”

“Sister Zhenzhen, don’t tease me.”

Kong Zhenzhen sighed. “I might not get the chance to tease you for much longer. You’re going back to the Factory No.1 next month, and we’re all going to miss you.”

In her mind, it was only natural for Lin Xiang to return to the Factory No.1 sooner or later—it had more resources, stronger finances, and a well-developed industry.

The factory’s cafeteria was as fragrant as ever, with the menu for the day displayed on a small blackboard near the entrance: six meat dishes and four vegetable dishes.

Lin Xiang picked up a meal of pan-fried duck, braised lion’s head meatballs, and stir-fried eggplant with long beans.

The two enjoyed their meal in the nearly empty cafeteria, relishing the quiet. After eating, they carried their aluminum lunchboxes to the outdoor sinks to wash them.

Just then, they ran into a group of shrimp paste workshop workers arriving for lunch.

The fermentation team leader and mixing team leader were discussing production issues as they walked. Since Director Qin hadn’t returned yet, the deputy director was overseeing operations with the group leaders, and the pressure was significant.

As the two groups crossed paths, Lin Xiang, holding her lunchbox in a relaxed manner, nodded in greeting to her former coworkers from the shrimp paste workshop.

Several of them brightened upon seeing her and greeted her enthusiastically. Having witnessed her skills firsthand, they couldn’t help but admire her. However, the deputy director and fermentation team leader appeared conflicted, their expressions shifting awkwardly as they quickly nodded and hurried to get their food.

Kong Zhenzhen could barely contain her laughter. “I heard that Liu, the deputy director, and He, the team leader, were the ones who refused to cooperate with you before. Looks like everyone else respects you now—just those two are still too proud to properly greet you. They act like someone’s holding a gun to their heads.”

Lin Xiang was amused by the dramatic comparison. “I don’t mind. We won’t be crossing paths much in the future anyway.”

Kong Zhenzhen turned on the tap and rinsed her lunchbox. Over the sound of running water, she added, “Word is that when you return to the Factory No.1 next month, the director is planning to transfer you to the shrimp paste workshop and give you an important role. You’ll have plenty of chances to ‘deal with’ them then.”

The rest of the day flew by in a blur. Even during breaks, Lin Xiang couldn’t help but wonder how things were going for He Hongyuan. That afternoon, while she and Director Zhao consulted veteran soda producers about coconut juice extraction and production, there was quite a commotion at the 119th military unit.

After receiving Lin Xiang’s morning warning, it didn’t take long before Zhou Shenghuai came to find He Hongyuan, tactfully bringing up the fact that Zhou Shengqiang had arrived at the military district.

“He came—what does that have to do with me?” He Hongyuan was already mentally prepared. When his third uncle brought up the topic, he remained unfazed and responded calmly.

Zhou Shenghuai found himself caught between the father and son, feeling helpless. He understood his nephew’s temperament well and simply said, “Your father… ahem, my second brother, will probably come to talk to you. Just don’t lose your temper, both of you. This is still the military, after all—don’t make a scene.”

At this point, perhaps not contacting each other at all would have been the better option.

He Hongyuan was aware of his third uncle’s good intentions. “I have no reason to lose my temper with a stranger. You’re overthinking it.”

Zhou Shenghuai hesitated for a moment, then decided to give his nephew a heads-up. “Your father is not too pleased with your marriage…”

“And what right does he have to be displeased?” He Hongyuan’s eyebrows shot up, his gaze turning sharp as a blade, his entire demeanor bristling like a hedgehog.

“You know how he is—he’s always cared about these things.” Zhou Shenghuai patted his nephew’s shoulder, still uneasy. “Whatever happens, just talk things through properly. Don’t make a big deal out of it. No need to give people something to laugh at.”

He Hongyuan radiated an air of displeasure. That afternoon, when Zhou Shengqiang finally showed up, he was sitting in his office, writing a report.

Brigade Yang, an old acquaintance of Zhou Shengqiang from the Northwest Military District, had initially been unaware that one of his most valued officers was actually Zhou Shengqiang’s son. When he eventually found out, he was astonished. He Hongyuan’s records only listed his mother as next of kin—it turned out his parents had separated long ago. Later, Brigade Yang noticed that the father and son didn’t seem to have a good relationship; in fact, He Hongyuan never even mentioned his father. Seeing this, Brigade Yang refrained from asking any further—after all, even an honest official finds it hard to resolve family disputes.

Now that Zhou Shengqiang was on leave and had come to visit, Brigade Yang had no choice but to escort him to He Hongyuan’s office. “Captain Zhou, I’ll leave you two to talk.”

Zhou Shengqiang gave a polite smile before stepping inside.

The last time he had seen his eldest son was five years ago. At the time, He Hongyuan had just come off the battlefield, severely wounded but having completed his mission with distinction. He had earned three commendations for his achievements in battle. As tCaptain He of the Northwest Military District, Zhou Shengqiang had heard his son’s name from other military leaders.

At that moment, he realized that this son was the one most like him—fearless, strategic, and determined. He had braved the battlefield, defeated the enemy, and won glory.

But when Zhou Shengqiang rushed to the military hospital to visit his son, he never expected to be thrown out.

He Hongyuan, his wounds freshly stitched, had torn them open again in his fury, blood seeping through the bandages as he drove his father from the room, declaring that he never wanted to see him again.

Zhou Shengqiang knew his son resented him, but he hadn’t expected the resentment to run so deep.

As he stepped into his son’s office now, he could tell that He Hongyuan had anticipated his arrival—he didn’t even look up, continuing to write his report.

Zhou Shengqiang was getting older, and his son had grown from the little boy in his memory into a towering man—now even taller than himself.

“Hongyuan.” Zhou Shengqiang looked at the four pockets on his son’s uniform, noting how young he was yet already at the rank of regimental commander. He truly had brought honor to the Zhou family.

Unlike Hongfei. That boy had been spoiled by the family’s wealth and status, turning into a careless, unserious young man.

He Hongyuan put down his pen and looked at the man he had once longed to see, but now wished never to face again. “Captain Zhou, what are your orders?”

The words instantly choked Zhou Shengqiang. He would rather his son argue with him than call him “Captain Zhou” like a stranger.

“Hongyuan, I took a few days off to visit your third uncle’s family…” Zhou Shengqiang paused, knowing that his son was as stubborn as he was. He had to be cautious with his words. “And you.”

“No need. Captain Zhou and I are neither family nor acquaintances—why would you visit me?” He Hongyuan replied coldly.

That single phrase—“neither family nor acquaintances”—set Zhou Shengqiang’s temper ablaze. His son had already changed his surname to He, which nearly made him cough up blood. Now he was outright denying their relationship. How could he tolerate this? “What do you mean, neither family nor acquaintances? I am your father!”

He Hongyuan let out a cold laugh. “I don’t have a father. Besides, my surname is He—I take after my mother. I have nothing to do with the Zhou family.”

Zhou Shengqiang knew he had wronged He Hongyuan and his mother. His marriage to He Guifang had been arranged by his parents, and there had never been any love between them. He was an educated, ambitious man, while He Guifang was a rural woman who could only cook, do laundry, and farm—she barely recognized a few characters. The two of them never even had much to talk about.

At first, he had accepted his fate, thinking he would simply live out his days in this dull marriage.

But then he went off to war and saw a whole different world. He realized that love could be chosen freely, that there were educated, intelligent women out there who could engage in deep conversations with him.

He spent years away from home, sending back money whenever he could. He suffered numerous injuries in battle, but it was during one such injury that he met the nurse, Wei Minhui.

Wei Minhui was the daughter of a military division commander. She was well-educated, cultured, and gentle in speech. Most importantly, she was attentive and thoughtful—a stark contrast to his wife back home. Zhou Shengqiang had never felt such a connection before.

At the time, he rationalized his actions: his marriage had been arranged, there was no love in it, and he could simply explain everything to He Guifang, give her a settlement, and ensure she was well taken care of. He thought it would be enough for her to live comfortably, and that she would eventually move on and remarry without any trouble.

Wei Minhui was kind-hearted and even agreed to Zhou Shengqiang’s suggestion of bringing He Hongyuan to live with them.

However, as the political situation became tense, Zhou Shengqiang was frequently relocated with the military, traveling across the country. His return to his hometown was repeatedly delayed, and by the time he finally made it back, his son had already grown up—no longer the small boy in his memories. Meanwhile, his wife, He Guifang, who had worked tirelessly like an old ox, had aged significantly.

He got straight to the point and told He Guifang he wanted to separate, explaining that their marriage was arranged and had no emotional foundation. Now that he had found his true love, he hoped they could part ways amicably. He reassured her that she could remarry and find someone who would care for her in the years to come.

He Guifang was uneducated, and when she heard these words from the man she had waited for so many years to return, and saw the delicate, graceful woman standing beside him, she instinctively lowered her head. Her gaze fell on her own rough, calloused hands, wrinkled and lined.

She didn’t make a scene or embarrass anyone. Instead, she simply directed Zhou Shengqiang to the graves of his parents, who had passed away a few years prior. Then, she straightforwardly agreed to his request.

Zhou Shengqiang knew he owed her and intended to leave a generous sum of money as financial security. He also proposed taking their son with him.

But He Guifang pushed the thick envelope of money away, her voice choked but resolute: “I don’t want your money, and you can’t take my son.”

Zhou Shengqiang was unwilling to leave his son behind. He tried repeatedly to persuade her, but she refused to budge. In the end, it was Wei Minhui’s words that made He Guifang hesitate and, ultimately, waver.

Speaking softly yet firmly, Wei Minhui said, “Sister Guifang, think about it—will Hongyuan have a better future with his father or with you?”

A mother understands another mother’s heart. He Guifang couldn’t bear to part with her son, but she also knew the stark difference between her and Zhou Shengqiang. If Hongyuan followed his father, he would have a completely different life and a promising future. He wouldn’t have to live like the village children, drifting through life.

In the end, He Guifang relented.

But what Zhou Shengqiang didn’t expect was that He Hongyuan refused to leave his mother, no matter what.

Despite all attempts to convince him, the boy glared at him and Wei Minhui with red-rimmed eyes filled with hatred. In a fit of anger, he even lashed out, calling them both bad people. Infuriated, Zhou Shengqiang finally gave up trying to take him away. Before leaving, he hastily placed the envelope of money on the stone table. With military duties pressing, he and Wei Minhui had no choice but to board the car and drive away.

As the four-wheeled vehicle kicked up dust along the country road, He Hongyuan chased after it, running as fast as he could, shouting for his father not to go—that he wanted him to stay.

But the car never stopped. It drove farther and farther away until it was out of sight.

Not long after, He Guifang entrusted Zhou Shenghuai to return the money, untouched.

Zhou Shengqiang had always known she was stubborn, but he hadn’t expected her to be this stubborn—to the point of refusing to accept the money, even at the risk of struggling to survive with her son.

What he didn’t know was that He Hongyuan had been even more insistent about returning the money. The moment the car disappeared from view, he had lost all hope. He refused to take a single cent from the father who had abandoned them.

Now, He Hongyuan was far more mature than he had been back then. Seeing Zhou Shengqiang’s face turn alternately pale and flushed with anger at his words, he felt a surge of satisfaction.

“Hongyuan, no matter how much you resent me, my blood runs in your veins. This bond can’t be severed,” Zhou Shengqiang said, his voice filled with both guilt and frustration. He tried to reason with his son, “I truly care about your future. You’ve achieved great success, and I’m proud of you. In you, I see my younger self—you have a bright future ahead.”

“My future has nothing to do with you,” He Hongyuan said coldly. He glanced at the clock on the wall, estimating that Lin Xiang had already finished work. Thinking about their dinner plans, his expression softened for a moment. “If you’re so keen on lecturing someone, go lecture your other son. Don’t come here acting all high and mighty—I have no interest in listening.”

He retrieved his military coat and cap from the rack, putting them on with practiced efficiency. Behind him, the middle-aged man continued speaking.

“Putting everything else aside, you can’t let your mother arrange your marriage. Arranged marriages never work. Given your current rank and looks, I can introduce you to someone much better—”

He Hongyuan let out a cold laugh and turned back, his glare sharp with fury. “Someone better? You mean someone from a family of high-ranking officials? The daughter of some military commander? Zhou Shengqiang, do you think I’m just like you? That I only care about climbing the social ladder, even at the cost of abandoning my wife and child? Lin Xiang and I love each other, and I will marry her. Our future is our own decision—you, an outsider, have no right to interfere!”

The words “outsider” and “not related” rang in Zhou Shengqiang’s ears like a slap in the face, making his breath come in ragged gasps.

“He Hongyuan, I am your father! How could I not be involved in your marriage? That Lin Xiang—she’s just the daughter of an ordinary worker. You’re the youngest regiment commander in the military! She’s not good enough for you! Why settle for less when you can have someone better? Do you think I go around meddling in people’s business for fun? I’m doing this for your own good!” Zhou Shengqiang’s voice was deep and commanding, honed by years in the military.

Outside the office, Lin Xiang had just arrived, having checked in at the guard post. As she lifted her hand to knock, she heard his furious outburst.

Even though she had mentally prepared herself, she still felt a chill run down her spine.

Inside, He Hongyuan’s voice was as cold as ice.

“Lin Xiang isn’t good enough for me?” He let out a scornful chuckle. “Honestly, I was starting to worry that, with a selfish, ungrateful, and faithless father like you, I’d have filthy blood running through my veins—so much so that I might not be good enough for Lin Xiang.”

He Hongyuan always knew exactly how to infuriate Zhou Shengqiang with just one sentence.

Captain Zhou was now a highly decorated officer, receiving respect and deference wherever he went—except from his own son, who pointed at his nose and scolded him without hesitation.

Trembling with rage, he was just about to speak when the office door was pushed open. The woman he had met last night—Lin Xiang—appeared before him.