Chapter 37: Three Layers of Protection (Part 1)

Sitting on the edge of the bed, Han Chao’s chest rose and fell sharply. After a long pause, he finally explained in a gentle voice, “Most people only use one.”

“I heard of someone getting pregnant after using just one,” Chen Yufeng said, avoiding his eyes.

Han Chao was silent for a long time before finally compromising. He tossed one aside and said, “Two, then.”

Chen Yufeng covered her face with both hands, unable to suppress her laughter, but she insisted, “No way, it has to be three.”

This was her final stand. She could take the initiative, or she could remain silent like before, letting him have his way. But there had to be three layers—no exceptions. After all, she had experienced it firsthand. This man might look refined on the surface, but when he got going, he was relentless.

Otherwise, how else could he have managed to conceive twins in just one encounter?

In that book she had read, there were countless descriptions of Zhang Songtao and Qi Cailing’s intimate moments—their tenderness, his attentiveness, their adorable sons, and how blissfully happy Qi Cailing was.

In stark contrast, she and Han Chao were bargaining over the number of condoms to use.

She understood his discomfort—just like wearing three winter coats in the peak of summer.

But what if she got pregnant? Was she really supposed to go through an abortion?

Han Chao was silent for a long while before finally conceding. “Three it is,” he thought. As long as his wife was comfortable, that was what mattered.

However, just as he reached out to grab another, his fingers brushed against a piece of paper. Out of instinct, he picked it up.

Though old and worn from being kept close for years, the heading remained clear: To Xiao A’mi!

Han Chao’s breath hitched. He dropped the condoms, holding the paper under the light, carefully reading its contents.

Seeing how focused he was, Chen Yufeng leaned in as well. But as she read the words, she nearly fainted from shock.

From the handwriting, it was clear—the letter was written by Commander Xu to Wang Guoguo.

And it must have been written after Wang Guoguo assaulted someone and fled.

The contents were nauseatingly affectionate, so much so that even Chen Yufeng felt her face heat up. In the letter, “Commander Xu” emphatically declared his deep love for “Xiao A’mi.” He promised that if she returned to confess her crimes and accept public criticism, he would marry her, have children with her, and never leave Mengzi again.

To prove his sincerity, he even enclosed his mother’s jade pendant as a token of his commitment.

At the time, “Xiao A’mi’s” entire family had perished in a fire. But since it was deemed an accident, the school simply reported it and moved on. However, her assault on the revolutionary youth was a grave offense.

She had fled, and the revolutionary youth, humiliated and furious, were determined to capture her.

“Xiao A’mi” had secretly admired Commander Xu for a long time. Leaving such a confession letter in a place she frequented was a trap—if she saw it, wouldn’t she be tempted to return?

Chen Yufeng, born in 1965, had witnessed plenty of public struggle sessions as a child.

She had to admit—thank goodness her mother-in-law was rational. She took the letter and the jade and ran. If she had returned, even if she hadn’t been beaten to death, she would have been crippled for life.

In their town, there was a man who limped for years—his leg broken by revolutionary youth back in the day.

At that moment, an indescribable disgust toward Commander Xu rose in Chen Yufeng’s heart.

It was his letter, his jade—so how had he managed to pretend he knew nothing about it all these years?

Han Chao grabbed the embroidered pouch and asked, “This is my mother’s pouch. Did she give it to you?” He had seen it as a child, but never in his wildest dreams had he imagined such a huge secret was hidden inside.

Chen Yufeng quickly explained, “Tiantian took it from her grandmother.” Then she added, “Commander Xu’s actions were excessive. He knew how dangerous it was for Mom to return, yet he still used the jade to lure her back?”

Her perception of Commander Xu had shifted entirely—she now saw him as a cunning hypocrite, refined on the surface but treacherous at heart.

Fortunately, Han Chao responded immediately, “I recognize Commander Xu’s handwriting. This isn’t his.”

Afraid his wife wouldn’t understand, he explained further, “After Mom escaped, someone stole the jade, forged a letter, and tried to bait her into showing herself.”

Chen Yufeng had lived a simple life with little exposure to deception, so she hadn’t even considered such a scheme.

But after Han Chao pointed it out, she suddenly realized—

Back then, after “Xiao A’mi” ran away, someone stole the jade from Ma Lin, impersonated Commander Xu, and staged a trap to capture her.

Han Chao carefully packed the letter away and said, “This letter and pouch must have been taken by Tiantian. Otherwise, Mom would have blown up by now. Put them back as they were—don’t let her find out.”

Chen Yufeng quickly nodded. “I’ll return them first thing in the morning.”

But even though she wasn’t the sharpest, a thought struck her—

Whoever wrote that letter and left the jade knew that Wang Guoguo was still alive. Since the jade had resurfaced, the letter must have too. Wouldn’t that person try to retrieve it?

Could it be that the person who wrote the letter was Xu Yoaguo? And that he wasn’t visiting to offer condolences—he was looking for the letter?

She immediately asked, “Brother, is Commander Luo visiting us this weekend? Zhang Aixia mentioned that her husband, Xu Yoaguo, organized a group to visit our home and offer their condolences to Mom.”

Han Chao immediately responded, “No, I was in a meeting with the commanders this afternoon.”

So Xu Yoaguo hadn’t gone with the military leaders—he had gone alone?

Thankfully, Chen Yufeng had brought her mother-in-law to the base, and she hadn’t yet told Zhang Aixia about it.

Han Chao carefully folded the letter and handed the three condoms back to her. “I have to step out for a bit.”

Chen Yufeng took them and said considerately, “Go ahead.”

Han Chao hesitated for a long time before saying, “Keep them for next time. If you’re in a hurry, I can take a night off tomorrow. The camp is stable for now, so I can request leave.”

Chen Yufeng nearly kicked him. In a hurry for what? To get tormented by you?

“Just go already—I’m not in a hurry,” she said.

Han Chao took the letter, stuffed some tissue into the pouch to conceal the missing contents, and left.

Watching him go, Chen Yufeng clutched the pouch, growing angrier by the second.

Because this wasn’t just cruel—it was despicable.

Wang Guoguo was a simple country girl. She had secretly admired the city-bred officer sent down for reeducation. She was so innocent that she once traded a wild boar and a rabbit just to get a bra.

She liked Commander Xu, so she spent her days cutting fresh hemp and doing farm work for the school.

And yet, someone had used that against her in the cruelest way possible.

She thought no one knew, but back then, many people at the cadre school were well aware of this. They took it for granted, enjoying the wild boars and rabbits Wang Guoguo hunted while using cheap trinkets from the city to fool her. At the same time, in order to gain political favor, they persecuted her family. And after inadvertently causing their deaths, they even tried to lure her out with Xu Yongyi’s jade, coaxing her into surrendering and accepting punishment.

How utterly ridiculous.

Now, the former leader of those revolutionary youth, Xu Yaoguo, is a major real estate tycoon.

The others have also found success in various fields, none of them struggling in life.

But Wang Guoguo? That piece of jade—Han’s father tried to seize it, Su Hong stole it, yet time and time again, they failed to take it away. In the end, it was given to the person she cherished most, Tiantian. This proves that, deep down, she never truly let go.

For thirty years, she had unwaveringly believed that Commander Xu had truly loved her.

If she were to learn the truth now, wouldn’t that mean her entire life had been nothing but a cruel joke?

…

Now, about Han Chao.

After leaving home, he headed straight for the military district’s security division.

At that moment, the fish vendor, Gao Ping, was still inside, lounging with one leg crossed over the other, cursing under his breath.

The security officers stood straight, hands clasped behind their backs, their posture rigid.

Gao Ping sneered, “Back in the day, I was also sent down to the countryside, but I couldn’t be bothered to become a grunt. I transferred out early. Otherwise, at the very least, I’d be a division-level officer by now. And what are you guys? A bunch of nobodies.”

The soldiers remained silent, standing motionless, their broad chests rising and falling slightly.

Gao Ping continued, “Don’t let my fish stall fool you—I make tens of thousands a year.”

Still, none of the soldiers responded, though one of them subtly shrugged.

With the economic reforms, it’s true that those in business were making more money than soldiers. The security officer’s uniform was in good condition, but the undershirt beneath was frayed, and he hadn’t replaced it—likely out of fear of being mocked by Gao Ping.

Gao Ping kept rambling, “The military district orders fish all the time, but you delay payments for months. You think I enjoy delivering to you? I only do it out of respect for Director Zhang, afraid you poor bastards will starve.”

Finally, the security chief, having listened long enough, said, “Boss Gao, let’s talk seriously. Were you the one who smuggled in those pornographic magazines?”

“Try hitting me, and maybe I’ll tell you.” The summer heat was stifling, and Gao Ping reeked of fish. He spread his arms wide, making it clear he hadn’t bathed in a while. The stench of sweat and fish filled the security room, making it almost unbearable.

The security chief, a hot-tempered man, clenched his fists, ready to act.

But just then, Han Chao walked in. The chief turned and saluted. “Captain Han, this man refuses to cooperate.”

Han Chao replied, “It’s fine. I’ll handle it.”

Gao Ping, seeing Han Chao, became even more enthusiastic. “Captain Han, I’ve been keeping up with military district news lately. I know all about your mother—Xiao A’mi, right? She used to have a huge crush on Xu Yongyi back in the day…”

Han Chao walked steadily, but as he passed a chair, his foot “accidentally” knocked its leg, sending it tumbling over and nearly causing Gao Ping to trip.

“Oops, my mistake. You alright?” Han Chao pulled up another chair and sat down across from Gao Ping.

Gao Ping might just be a fish vendor now, but he had been sent down to the countryside with Commander Luo and Xu Yaoguo back in the day.

That was also why he was close to Zhang Aixia—the man used to be Xu Yaoguo’s lackey.

He knew about Xiao A’mi. He even knew she had once admired Commander Xu.

There wasn’t enough solid evidence yet, but from the testimony of new recruits, it was clear that Gao Ping had been the one smuggling the magazines into the military district. The military had no authority to detain or interrogate civilians, but they could have a “friendly chat.”

Originally, Han Chao had planned to deal with him tomorrow. But after seeing that letter, he decided to have a conversation with Gao Ping tonight.

Not just about the pornographic magazines, but about events from years ago.

Was the fire that burned down the cowshed really an accident?

Who stole the jade and forged Commander Xu’s letter?

But getting this man to talk wouldn’t be easy.

“Han Chao, it’s just a few dirty magazines. Your military district has no authority over civilians. You can’t detain me. If I walk out of here and file a report, you’ll be in big trouble,” Gao Ping said smugly.

Han Chao replied in a calm voice, “We’re not detaining you. I just want to have a chat.”

He glanced at the security chief, who immediately led the other officers out.

Now, only the two of them remained in the room, sitting face to face. Gao Ping stayed slouched, exuding nonchalance, while Han Chao sat upright, disciplined.

Han Chao fixed his sharp gaze on Gao Ping. “I’m not just asking about the magazines. I also want to know what happened at the ‘57 Cadre School. You’ll cooperate, won’t you?”

“No. Not a word. You won’t get anything out of me,” Gao Ping said defiantly. And to make his point, he let out a loud fart.

In the enclosed room, with the combined stench of fish, body odor, and now this—it was enough to make anyone gag.

Han Chao’s eyes narrowed slightly. He held his breath for a moment but continued, “Your son runs an electronics stall at the Daqingshan wholesale market, doesn’t he?”

Gao Ping snorted. “So what?”

“And your two grandsons—Zhang Aixia helped pull strings to get them into the military district’s elementary school?”

Another snort. “So what, Han Chao? Military district schools accept outside students for a high price. I paid five thousand in tuition fees. Even if you’re jealous, there’s nothing you can do. Us businessmen will always be richer than you grunts.”

“I know you have money. But…” Han Chao suddenly leaned forward, his nose nearly touching Gao Ping’s, and lowered his voice, “If your grandson’s leg got broken in a car accident, would money fix it?” He inched even closer. “If your son was walking down the street and a brick fell from above, smashing his skull—dead on the spot—could money bring him back to life?”

Gao Ping stammered, “Han Chao… you’re a soldier. You wouldn’t resort to thug tactics.”

Han Chao slowly cracked his knuckles, the sound crisp and deliberate. He leaned back, stretching out his arms. His gaze was lazy, yet carried a hint of menace.

Only after letting Gao Ping get a good look at the calluses on his fists did he finally speak. “You think I’m just a loyal dog for Commander Xu. But what you don’t realize is—I’m not just any dog. I’m a mad dog, a wild dog. A dog that kills, burns, and breaks every rule in the book while knowing exactly how the law works.”

He tilted his head slightly. “You don’t have to say anything. I can let you go right now.”

His words were steady and calm, yet inexplicably, Gao Ping felt intimidated. He stood up but didn’t dare to leave. Hesitating, he asked, “Han Chao, I know you used to be a thug and even a spy. You wouldn’t hurt my son or my grandsons, would you?”

Han Chao remained seated, gazing straight ahead with a slight smirk. “Of course not. But, Boss Gao, if a car accident happens, it’s not considered a criminal case. If your son happens to pass by a certain spot and a brick falls from a wall, no one can guarantee it won’t be an accident. And accidents… aren’t crimes.”

His appearance was refined—fair skin, straight teeth—a man with a scholarly air.

But at that moment, his gaze was cold and dark, filled with a ruthless chill.

Gao Ping knew Han Chao had been a troublemaker in the past. That was why earlier at Han Chao’s home, he had deliberately provoked him, hoping Han Chao would hit him. If Han Chao lost his temper and got himself thrown into confinement, the investigation into the obscene magazines would be dropped.

But clearly, he had underestimated Han Chao. The rumors painted him as nothing more than a street thug.

Yet in reality, this supposedly refined man was a scoundrel—a rogue soldier.

Maybe he was just making empty threats, but as a father and grandfather, how could he not worry?

Gao Ping couldn’t help but wonder—someone like Han Chao, who had grown up throwing bricks at people, might actually do it. He might wait for a dark, moonless night to smash a brick over his son’s head or run his grandsons over with a car. After all, Han Chao had been known for his misdeeds since childhood.

Gao Ping sat back down, folded his arms, took a deep breath, and asked, “What do you want to know?”

Han Chao began, “How were the obscene magazines smuggled in?”

“They were torn into individual pages, folded neatly, wrapped in plastic, and stuffed into fish bellies,” Gao Ping answered bluntly.

“Good. Your grandson’s legs are safe. Next question.”

As he spoke, Han Chao pulled out a letter—one that Wang Guoguo had treasured for thirty years.