Chapter 103

Lin Tingting had never heard such a confession—he seemed to have said everything, yet nothing at all.

Hmph!

Since she hadn’t drunk, she ate quickly; even with Li Xuewu chatting nonstop, they finished before eight.

He stood up, helped Lin Tingting put on her coat, picked up the packed duck carcass, and they stepped out the door.

He never glanced at Gu Ning once; from the man who had just entered, he knew this woman had a partner, yet agreed to a family-arranged meeting and dragged him into it—she wasn’t a good person.

At the door, he fetched her bike, then his own; they exchanged a smile and began pedaling together.

Lin Tingting felt this date had been satisfying—there would always be someone who fulfilled your uncompleted wishes, brought you flowers, accompanied you to watch sunrises and sunsets, walked with you to and from work, played through your youth, and ultimately spent your remaining years beside you.

Just as they’d ridden a hundred meters, Li Xuewu let go of the handlebars to reach for cigarettes, then remembered the Da Qianmen pack he’d left on the table.

Seeing Li Xuewu fumble with his pockets, Lin Tingting asked, “What’s wrong?”

“I left my cigarettes on the table,” Li Xuewu sighed.

“Go back and get them—no one’s cleaned up yet.”

Li Xuewu hesitated, then said, “Wait for me a moment,” and turned his bike around.

He parked at the door, about to lift the curtain, when he heard someone at the nearby table talking about him—he pulled his foot back and pressed himself against the curtain to listen.

“Wei Min, you’re late—Xiao Ning just got mistreated.”

Li Xuewu recognized the voice as the doctor named Tong Yan.

Then the young man who had just arrived asked, “Oh? Really? Why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Gu Ning tugged Tong Yan’s sleeve and said, “There’s no such thing as being mistreated—just some acquaintances chatting.”

Wei Min smiled at Tong Yan; seeing Wei Min’s gaze, Tong Yan smiled at Gu Ning and said, “Xiao Ning, I’m going to say it—I’m only looking out for you.”

Without waiting for Gu Ning’s protest, he continued: “We rescued a junior lieutenant on the front line. He didn’t thank us—he blamed us.”

Everyone at the table fell silent, watching them. Wei Min lit a cigarette and gestured for Tong Yan to go on.

Tong Yan glanced around proudly, waited until all eyes were on him, then spoke: “Conditions on the front were terrible—no anesthetic, the lieutenant kept moving. Xiao Ning was handling a needle for the first time, terrified—I told her not to stitch.”

The Descent of Heaven

Ignoring Gu Ning’s increasingly pale face, Tong Yan continued smiling at Wei Min: “You all saw it—the big scar on his face. If I’d stitched it, it wouldn’t have looked so bad. But I understand—Xiao Ning was a beginner, too. We went over to apologize, but he blamed us.”

“Xiao Tong, why didn’t you say this earlier? I should’ve punched him then!” shouted the young man named Cha Zi.

Wei Min nodded knowingly: “Troops have all kinds of people—some scum slip in, think a few medals and a scar make them national heroes. Hmph, Xiao Ning, don’t waste your anger on such trash.”

Gu Ning studied the hero she’d once admired. Perhaps her brother’s words were true. Perhaps her father’s were right.

She glanced at Tong Yan, who was flirting with Wei Min, listened to Cha Zi and Wei Guo’s loud flattery and mutual insults, and found the meal utterly dull.

Maybe she shouldn’t have agreed to come today. Even further—maybe she shouldn’t have fallen for Wei Min all those years ago.

I have something to do—I’m leaving. Enjoy your meal. And by the way—he’s not trash. His contributions weren’t stolen. His scar is my fault. So respect the uniform on your back—and ask yourselves whose contributions were ever stolen.

As she spoke, Gu Ning pulled on her double-breasted coat, put on her cotton hat, and walked out.

Wei Min, close by, grabbed her hand—but she yanked it away.

Seeing Gu Ning’s cold glare, Wei Min felt humiliated, but for his future, he whispered, “Stay a little longer—I only came back once.”

“No. Eat. Don’t call me again.” Gu Ning walked out.

“I drove—I’ll take you,” Wei Min said, reaching for his coat.

But Gu Ning didn’t turn around: “No. I’ll walk back.”

As Gu Ning lifted the curtain, she saw Li Xuewu standing behind it—just one step apart, both frozen.

Everyone inside the room and Lin Tingting outside had seen it all.

Li Xuewu looked through the curtain Gu Ning had lifted—the table by the door stared at him. Tong Yan lowered her head in embarrassment, then lifted it defiantly.

The two men who had shouted at him glared, while Wei Min, holding his coat, stared through cigarette smoke, inhaling sharply.

“Move aside,” Li Xuewu said to Gu Ning.

Gu Ning blinked, then stepped aside to let him in.

Li Xuewu walked to the table, picked up his cigarette pack, pulled out one, lit it with a match, unbuttoned his coat to reveal his holster, and blew smoke toward the table.

Seeing Li Xuewu’s contemptuous gaze and provocative attitude, the men at the table dared not speak or move—killing someone was too easy here; people died every year.

The more they were like this, the more they clung to life—parents had warned them endlessly: porcelain doesn’t fight with earthenware.

Seeing the group fall silent and Gu Ning already gone since his entrance, Li Xuewu shook his head and walked out, buttoning his coat as he went.

By the time he reached the door, his coat was fully fastened, cigarette in mouth—he spat out “trash,” lifted the curtain, and stepped out, leaving the table stunned, even other diners whispering.

Tong Yan blinked, then said to Wei Min standing beside the table: “Wei Min, aren’t you going after her? Xiao Ning’s gone far.”

Wei Min, embarrassed and wanting to chase after her, now followed Tong Yan’s lead: “Forget her. She’s got princess syndrome and thinks she’s royalty. Let’s enjoy tonight—no gloomy talk. Come on, Tong Yan, we haven’t seen each other in ages—drink!”

He sat in Gu Ning’s old seat beside Tong Yan, picked up his cup, and clinked it with hers.

Watching Tong Yan’s chest swell under her clothes, Wei Min clinked cups with her again.

These past three years in the south, cooped up in the barracks, he’d been parched.

Tong Yan, seeing Wei Min stare at her chest, smiled sweetly and drank with him, completely ignoring Wei Guo’s glaring eyes fixed on her.

Li Xuewu stepped outside, mounted his bike, and pedaled after Lin Tingting—he saw Gu Ning pass her and walk ahead.

When Li Xuewu reached Lin Tingting, her face had changed—she asked accusingly: “What did that female doctor say to you at the door? Why was she crying when she walked off?”

Li Xuewu paused, frowned, and explained what he’d overheard outside the roast duck shop.

Lin Tingting hesitated, then said to Li Xuewu: “It’s so dark—take the doctor home.”

Li Xuewu shook his head: “If I leave, what about you? I’ll take you home first.”

Lin Tingting insisted: “We’re not going the same way—let’s part here. I’ll be home in minutes—I can make it myself. Go take care of her.”

Li Xuewu didn’t understand why her mood had changed: “Did she say something just now?”

Lin Tingting’s expression stiffened: “No. Go now. I’m going home. Don’t come looking for me again.”

She glanced at Li Xuewu, then said nothing more.

She hurried onto her bike and vanished into the darkness.