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Cheng Rushan closed the courtyard gate and first went to the cadre’s residence.
At the entrance, he shouted, “Qianbo!”
Qianbo was lazily reading on the kang bed.
Hearing Cheng Rushan’s voice startled him, and he instinctively wanted to hide, but finally came out obediently, “What’s up?”
“Did you settle your return-to-city paperwork?”
“What about you?” Everyone knew about Qianbo retaliating against Cheng Rushan.
Qianbo was afraid he had come to settle scores about his supposed flirtation with Jiang Lin.
Cheng Rushan said, “I’ll help you get the commune’s stamp. Let’s go.”
Qianbo wanted to say he could handle it himself, but under Cheng Rushan’s pressure-filled gaze, he couldn’t refuse. “Wait for me to get the documents.”
He grabbed his backpack and went with Cheng Rushan to the commune. “Why are you so kind?” Doing this himself would cost over a hundred yuan for connections.
Cheng Rushan replied, “To thank you for helping carry the bag.”
As they walked, Qianbo struggled to keep up with Cheng Rushan’s pace and had to jog several times, feeling inexplicably humiliated.
At noon, the commune was closed, asking them to return in the afternoon.
Qianbo said, “Forgot they rest at noon.”
Cheng Rushan said, “Let’s go.”
He led the way, heading straight for the secretary’s office.
A female secretary stopped them, “Whom are you looking for?”
“We’re from Secretary Cheng’s village,” Cheng Rushan said.
Seeing his tall, handsome appearance, the secretary smiled, “Come in and wait.”
She led them to Cheng Fugui’s office and asked them to wait.
Secretary Cheng had been unsettled since Cheng Rushan’s brother reported, so he made a long-distance call to the communications group to inquire.
Then he took a walk to smoke and think.
After a while, he returned to his office, where he heard locals were waiting and thought his brother and nephew had arrived.
Instead, he found Cheng Rushan sitting casually in his office.
Cheng Fugui instinctively wanted to grab his gun from his army days, although he was now rusty.
The tense atmosphere hinted at an imminent fight.
Cheng Rushan calmly said, “Secretary Cheng, no need to be nervous.”
Qianbo regretted following along; it seemed like a foolish move.
Did Cheng Rushan really intend to help with his return-to-city paperwork? Was he provoking a fight?
Cheng Fugui laughed heartily and ruffled his own hair. “Nephew Cheng Rushan is here, why be so nervous? Rushan, you’ve returned.”
Cheng Rushan nodded. “Yeah, didn’t die out there.”
Cheng Fugui shook his head with a smile. “You rascal, after all these years, still the same. Now that you’re a father, you should be more steady. Come back, Uncle will arrange a job for you.”
Cheng Rushan replied humbly, “No need to trouble Secretary Cheng. Just don’t send me to labor reform.”
Cheng Fugui raised an eyebrow. “Why say that? If you haven’t broken the law, who would send you to labor reform? Are you still holding grudges from the past?”
Cheng Rushan smiled faintly, stood up, and took a form from under the table. “I understand this very well. Even if you executed my grandfather and caused the death of my uncle, did I do anything to harm you?”
He slapped the form on the table.
Cheng Fugui glanced down and saw it was a transfer form back to the city, already arranged.
Normally, they would negotiate a resettlement fee, usually around one or two hundred.
But Cheng Rushan’s eyes were sharp as knives, so Cheng Fugui took out his stamp and stamped it. “See, everything is legal and above board. I’ve always been like this. As long as the government says your father is innocent, we’ll release him immediately!” Cheng Yunzhi and a few others were on the farm, and Cheng Fugui used to be able to wield his power, but later he could not.
Cheng Rushan nodded slightly. “I’m going to process the rehabilitation procedures for my family now.”
Cheng Fugui stared at Cheng Rushan, his eyes sharp as knives, his voice cold as ice. “If I’m not around, if you dare touch a single hair on my family’s heads, I’ll turn your whole family into graves!”
Cheng Fugui understood that Cheng Rushan was warning him not to intervene for Cheng Ruhai.
He also knew that when Cheng Rushan spoke harshly like this, he would without a doubt carry out his threats.
Cheng Fugui understood this better than anyone—Cheng Rushan’s fierceness was something he had experienced firsthand.
Back on the farm, anyone who bullied him ended up beaten back.
If anyone dared to harm his parents outside of policy, he would find ways to make amends, even if it meant risking his own safety.
Cheng Fugui and Cheng Rushan locked eyes, their gazes sharp, their clash filled with both deep-seated enmity and familial ties.
Cheng Fugui’s father and Cheng Rushan’s grandfather were blood brothers, though Cheng Fugui’s father was born out of wedlock, not legitimate, and did odd jobs.
Cheng Fugui felt that Cheng Rushan resembled his own son more—fierce and resolute, unlike Cheng Yunzhi who was more gentle and scholarly.
Cheng Fugui chuckled again. “Dongsheng, go ahead, Grandpa is waiting. If you can really clear our name, Grandpa will be happier than anyone.”
Cheng Rushan took the stamped form and handed it back to Qianbo. “Let’s go.”
Qianbo hurriedly followed, not even bothering with formalities.
When Cheng Rushan had spoken to Cheng Fugui earlier, Qianbo’s heart nearly burst; he truly believed Cheng Rushan could pull out a knife and stab Cheng Fugui at any moment.
Yesterday, seeing him with his child, he seemed mild-tempered, but today he was downright terrifying.
Leaving the commune courtyard, Cheng Rushan walked swiftly ahead, Qianbo hurriedly following, not noticing they weren’t taking the way back to the village.
Although nervous, Qianbo couldn’t help but blurt out, “Cheng Rushan, how could you turn someone into grave grass?”
You really can talk!
If you kill someone, you kill them; at worst, you let their blood water the grave grass, but you can turn them into grass?
Cheng Rushan suddenly stopped in his tracks and glanced sideways.
Qianbo instinctively looked over and saw it was the commune’s cemetery.
Even though there was a campaign in the 1950s to level graves, in rural areas like this, ancestral graves were respected and not easily disturbed.
This area was well maintained, with rounded mounds covered in yellow paper and topped with grass swaying in the wind.
Qianbo: “!!!”
In an instant, he imagined Cheng Rushan turning Cheng Fugui into grave grass, feeling his hair stand on end.
Cheng Rushan glanced at him. “Wait until your hair grows a bit longer.”
Qianbo: “Cheng Rushan, spare me, I… I won’t dare again.”
Cheng Rushan raised an eyebrow. “What did you do?”
Qianbo: … I thought about seducing your wife and eloping. Is that serious? His legs went weak, almost kneeling under Cheng Rushan’s pressure.
Under Cheng Rushan’s imposing presence, he stammered, “Cheng Rushan, I-I’m sorry. I thought you weren’t coming back. Cheng Ruhai said you weren’t coming back. But don’t worry, Jiang Lin completely ignored me. She even kicked me.”
He instinctively covered his crotch, afraid Cheng Rushan might kick him there, which would really be the end of him.
Cheng Rushan suddenly smiled, frightening Qianbo nearly to the point of wetting himself.
Cheng Rushan patted Qianbo’s shoulder. Qianbo’s legs gave out and he sat down, but Cheng Rushan caught him. “It’s okay, I’m not that petty. Liking someone is your own business.”
Qianbo breathed a sigh of relief, his face dripping with cold sweat.
“But,” Cheng Rushan looked down at him, left hand resting on his shoulder, lightly patting, and said with a smile, “Keep your liking in your heart. Don’t bring it out.” He tapped Qianbo’s chest lightly. “This place is so fragile. If it sprouts, it’ll hurt a lot.”
Qianbo immediately imagined grave grass again, his face turning pale with fear.
He nodded frantically, “Don’t worry, I won’t bring it out. I won’t dare again.”
He was scared enough to swear off liking women for the rest of his life.
Cheng Rushan chuckled and let him go. “It just so happens I have business in the provincial capital. We’ll hit the road early tomorrow morning.”
Qianbo, who had just relaxed, was now terrified again.
Who wants to hit the road with you? I’m not a masochist.
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