Chapter 461: Rizhao

Lin Zhao and Gu Zhihang sat down; it was still early, but many people had already arrived, and the air was filled with chatter.

Friends who hadn’t seen each other in years embraced and chatted.

Some were networking.

The scene was lively and bustling.

“So many people.”

Gu Zhihang nodded. “This is truly a rare grand gathering! I heard the viewing tickets are hard to get—if not for my father’s connections, we wouldn’t even be here.”

“Your father is capable,” Lin Zhao agreed. “In my heart, your father is the most capable man in the world.”

“...Mom, did you only hear that one sentence?” Gu Zhihang nearly choked on a bite of dog food.

“Of course not—I heard you say the viewing tickets are hard to get, and I can imagine why. The military parade has only been held a few times in history, each one drawing massive attention both abroad and at home—it’s a symbol of national strength and a deterrent. Everyone in the country waits eagerly for a chance to attend. How could the tickets not be hard to get?”

And.

You also need political vetting and background checks—many applicants are rejected in the first round.

Doesn’t that prove how capable your father is?

What’s wrong with me praising him a little more!!

Gu Zhihang stood up, scanning the crowd. “I wonder if I’ll run into my older brother...”

“Unlikely,” Lin Zhao replied. “There are so many people—Yubao is like a single drop in the ocean, a grain of sand in the desert. The chance of running into him is negligible.”

But Gu Zhihang shook his head. “Not necessarily. I feel like I’ll see him.”

“You and your brother have a bond—if he appears nearby, you’ll sense it. But if he doesn’t pass by you, how will you find him?” Lin Zhao remained skeptical. There were simply too many people here—if they met, it would be fate beyond measure.

Gu Zhihang couldn’t describe the mysterious feeling in his heart, so he stopped arguing.

At ten o’clock, the military parade officially began.

After the salute guns fired, the flag-raising ceremony commenced.

Everyone stood. The crowd fell silent as tens of thousands sang the national anthem together.

The surging emotion in their chests threatened to overwhelm them.

Afterward, the first thing Gu Zhihang said to Lin Zhao was: “Mom, I want to do many things that benefit the country. I want to see our nation grow strong and prosperous, so future generations won’t suffer.”

Hearing this, Lin Zhao was deeply moved.

She looked at her son, her voice gentle. “Aren’t you already doing that? Everything you do benefits the country—you’ve provided jobs for so many, ensuring they have food and shelter. You’re already amazing. While others hadn’t even thought of building schools or supporting national education, you took action. I’m so proud of you.”

Her son was pure at heart.

He carried great love and never forgot his roots—what a wonderful child.

Gu Zhihang said, “I need to work harder.”

He clenched his fists. “My abilities are limited—I must rise higher to benefit more people.”

He had promised another version of himself—in another world—to accumulate merit.

He must keep his word.

“You’re already doing great. You eat rice one grain at a time, right?” Lin Zhao took her son’s hand and patted his back.

“Mm.” Gu Zhihang replied.

Just then, a group passed by. He caught sight of a familiar pair of eyes, and his brightened. His voice, barely containing excitement, said: “Mom, it’s my brother—he’s in the third row, look quick!”

Lin Zhao followed his gaze and saw Gu Zhiyu.

“It really is your brother,” she beamed, pride shining in her eyes. “So handsome—he stands out even among all these good-looking men. You four siblings really owe me for finding you such a good-looking father—it’s like 11 plus 2, so pleasing to the eye.”

And talented.

Gu Zhihang also beamed, standing up to wave at his brother. Gu Zhiyu was on standby and didn’t turn around, but he felt his family’s excitement.

His own heart swelled even more.

How could anyone not be proud to stand here!

The ceremony began—

The disciplined formations, the soldiers’ powerful stances, their fierce gazes—all stirred the crowd on-site and the millions watching on TV.

When the fighter jets circled overhead, the atmosphere reached its peak.

Lin Zhao and Gu Zhihang knew one of those planes was piloted by Gu Zhiyu. They stood, heads tilted up, smiling broadly.

How rare this was, Lin Zhao thought. She could only catch glimpses of Yubao’s work this way.

Gu Zhiyao had come to the event for work, assisting behind the scenes—a valuable opportunity.

She was outgoing and cheerful, completing every task assigned by her superiors flawlessly. Her composure under pressure was exceptional—as if she could handle any grand occasion. The station’s leadership nodded in approval, planning to groom her for a front-facing role.

Those not present could only watch the spectacle on television.

Lin Shi saw his niece’s fleeting figure and jumped to his feet. “Yaobao! That was Yaobao! Did you see her? That was Yaobao!”

Lin Heling smiled warmly, the fine lines at the corners of his eyes like tiny fans—far from ugly, they only added character.

“I saw her. She’s grown up—now she can stand on her own. In a few years, she’ll be ready to step into the spotlight.”

Song Xi had full confidence. “Yaobao’s fine. Zhihang said she’s been working nonstop for months on the parade, even moved into a place near the TV station and didn’t go home once. She’s worked so hard.”

She believed the family had enough money—opening a flower shop to pass the time would be enough. Why work, why endure stress? But no amount of persuasion could overcome her granddaughter’s simple reply: “I like it.”

Sigh.

Song Xi only hoped Yaobao would meet kind supervisors and coworkers.

As they spoke, the whole family kept their eyes glued to the screen.

“Was that... was that Zhaozhao and Hengbao? Just a flash—was it them?” Chen Yu’s voice trembled with excitement.

“It’s my little aunt! That’s my little aunt—she’s wearing a qipao, her hair pinned up—it’s her! My little aunt is so beautiful!” Lin Xibao jumped up, sharing the news with the family.

“You were so far away, and it was just a flash—I thought you’d miss it. I didn’t expect you all saw her,” Song Xi smiled.

She was the daughter she had given birth to—of course she recognized her at a glance.

“My little aunt’s skin is so fair—she’s the center of attention wherever she goes. We couldn’t miss her!” Lin Zheng adjusted his glasses, speaking in the formal tone of a government report.

She had fulfilled her dream of joining the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and was now striving to become a spokesperson. With her youth and inexperience, she wore glasses—no prescription—to appear mature and steady, purely for appearance.

“All these years later, my little aunt hasn’t changed at all,” Lin Xuan said admiringly.

She meant Lin Zhao’s figure. After all these years, her back remained slender, her waist still free of fat, her skin taut—she looked young. When they went out together, people always thought Lin Zhao was her older sister.

“My little aunt’s skin comes from Grandpa, and her slimness comes from Grandma—great genes, impossible to envy,” Lin Xibao pinched the soft flesh on her waist. Her resolve to lose weight lasted less than half a minute—then she thought of delicious snacks and gave up.

When could she possibly diet? Eat first, then worry about it.

The Lin family watched from their TV, and so did the Gu family—each chatting and laughing, as festive as the New Year.

Afterward, Gu Fu called home to brag to his old comrades.

“Old Ye, did you watch TV?” he bellowed, his voice strong. “My third son’s whole family was there in person—did you see them?”

The retired battalion commander’s mouth twitched.

There were so many people on TV—what could he possibly see? And how long had it been since he’d spent time with Chenghuai’s family? He’d never recognize them.

“Didn’t see anything,” Battalion Commander Ye replied honestly.

“Ah, your eyesight really has gone downhill. Next time, have your son take you to get glasses. You’ve got to accept aging—you need to take action.”

Battalion Commander Ye: “...”

Listening to this man was worse than listening to a parrot.

“Where are your precious little birds? Why aren’t they talking today?” He swiftly changed the subject, asking after his old friend’s beloved parrots.

“They’re outside. The kids say they talk too much. Tomorrow—tomorrow I’ll bring them to chat with you,” Gu Fu said.

For an old man, birdkeeping was a simple joy, and the whole family supported it.

Even Gu Zhihang had gifted his grandfather a rare bird breed—one chick cost eight hundred yuan, equal to an ordinary person’s annual salary.

As the parade neared its end, Lin Zhao planned to leave early. Just as she and Gu Zhihang were about to go, she spotted a familiar face.

Their eyes met. The woman said something to the person beside her and walked over.

“Comrade Lin.”

Lin Zhao’s eyes flickered with surprise—she hadn’t expected this female hero to remember her.

“Comrade Tian, you’re here too.”

Tian Xiuxiu smiled, her stern expression melting into that of an ordinary elderly woman. “I had nothing else to do, so I came to watch. At my age, I won’t get to see many more.”

She sighed.

Before Lin Zhao could reply, Tian Xiuxiu continued: “I’ve survived this long thanks to the medicine formula you gave. I’ve never had the chance to thank you in person.”

She formally saluted Lin Zhao.

Tian Xiuxiu’s name was delicate, but she was a veteran revolutionary who had fought on the battlefield, earning many honors—her old military uniform bore several medals, proof enough.

Lin Zhao quickly stepped forward to support her arm. “It was my duty. You doing this makes me feel awkward. Without you, there would be no happy life today. You don’t need to thank me like this.”

Meng Jiu wasn’t one to claim credit—any medicine made from Lin Zhao’s formula was named “Rizhao,” derived from the characters in her name.

Almost every military district leader knew of Lin Zhao—even those who’d never met her regarded her as a fine comrade.

This was one of the key reasons Gu Chenghuai had obtained the viewing tickets.

Why couldn’t so many military leaders’ family members attend? There were reasons.

“Comrade Lin, your great righteousness—I thank you on behalf of all soldiers,” Tian Xiuxiu said again.

Among those who benefited were soldiers she had trained—her gratitude was heartfelt.

After bidding farewell to Comrade Tian, Lin Zhao left with her son.

“Mom, you’re amazing—I’m so proud of you,” Gu Zhihang said, supporting Lin Zhao as he suddenly spoke.

Lin Zhao: “...”

It’s not necessary.

“Don’t dwell on this—it’s been years already, it’s embarrassing. It’s all your uncle’s doing. I told him I didn’t want empty honors, but he insisted I shouldn’t be shortchanged. He named all those medicines ‘Rizhao,’ Rizhao No. 1, Rizhao No. 2...” She covered her face, utterly exasperated.

The Rizhao series?

Gu Zhihang had never heard of it before.

Lin Zhao didn’t care about it; she’d muttered about it to Gu Chenghuai that night, but never brought it up with the children.

“Uncle’s just that rigid, but honestly, there are benefits—like this time, we got to come here in person. Your mom’s status as the donor of this precious formula must’ve added plenty of points.”

Lin Zhao nodded.

“You’ve got a point—if we hadn’t come, we’d have missed today’s experience. Everything happens for a reason. Let’s drop it. Let’s go home.”

She gestured for her son to open the umbrella. “It’s too hot—I hope I don’t get tanned. If I get freckles, I’ll be furious.”

Lin Zhao had loved beauty for decades; she’d never change.

Gu Zhihang opened the sunshade and tilted it firmly toward his mother. “You won’t get tan—you used to use Snow Cream and never got tan. Now you put on three or four layers of cream every time you go out; how could you possibly get dark? And freckles? Even less likely. Those are genetic. Some kids have them from birth. Your face is perfectly fair.”

He carefully soothed every one of Lin Zhao’s anxieties, just like his father—never letting a single word of hers fall unanswered.

Hengbao had always been a child who excelled at providing emotional value; he was beloved wherever he went.

Lin Zhao wasn’t the type of parent to dampen spirits.

“Fine, you’ve cheered me up.” Her furrowed brows smoothed. “We’ve got time. Where do you want to go? I’m dressed up today—I’m willing to die for my son. Wherever you want, I’ll go with you.”

“Really?” Gu Zhihang asked, smiling.

“Of course I’m serious. Why would I lie to you?” Lin Zhao was dazzlingly dressed today and didn’t want to leave yet.

“The season’s about to change—I want to buy some new clothes,” Gu Zhihang said.

“Buy...” Lin Zhao couldn’t help laughing. “That’s such a perfect word—you really do treat every clothes purchase like a procurement.”

He didn’t just buy for himself—he bought for the whole family. His grandparents, his maternal grandparents, all had received clothes from him.

“Want to go?” Gu Zhihang asked. “I passed by your favorite store last time I was shopping—they’ve just put out autumn wear. It’s your style.”

Lin Zhao didn’t lack clothes; Gu Chenghuai had converted two rooms into her walk-in closet, filled entirely with garments.

Maybe because she’d known hardship, she loved adding new clothes—she insisted on buying something new every season.

The whole family indulged her little habit.

“Go.” Lin Zhao’s interest sparked; she couldn’t sit still a moment longer.

“Let’s go.” Gu Zhihang took a few steps, then suddenly stopped, turning to Lin Zhao. “Where’s Dad? What if he looks for us after?”

He thought the walkie-talkie was too heavy and hadn’t brought it.

“He’s slow—he won’t finish anytime soon. We’ll meet at home. I already told your dad. I told him not to wait for me.”

She had no patience for that.

“Then—” Gu Zhihang didn’t finish his sentence—he saw something ahead, his face darkening like ink, his expression long and grim.