The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 19

In Song Zhuang Street, it had been many years since anything so shocking had occurred.

A body was pulled from the East Tai River. As the news spread, groups of people from neighboring villages flocked to watch the commotion. Although the family had already taken the body away, crowds still lingered by the riverbank, whispering about the dark history of Song Zhuang Street.

“The feng shui of Song Zhuang Street has been off these past two years,” one observer noted. “Not long ago, a girl jumped into this river. If she hadn’t been saved, this would have been the second death.”

“Don’t you know? The woman who died last night was the aunt of that girl who jumped. The drama between those two families is better than an opera. You really shouldn’t get too arrogant; Xiangcui was so prideful just a while ago, and now the poor thing is gone.”

Outside Song Aimin’s house, the crowd was even larger.

Sun Xiangcui’s body lay on the floor of the main hall, placed on nothing but a straw mat and covered with a white sheet. Since the head of the household, Song Aimin, was still alive, tradition dictated that Xiangcui, as a woman, was not “worthy” of being laid out on a bed.

Inside, the sounds of wailing broke out intermittently, mostly from Sun Xiangcui’s eldest sister.

Beside her, Song Jiajia sat with a vacant expression, her mind drifting elsewhere. The courtyard was noisy with relatives who had come to offer condolences. Song Aimin, wearing a white mourning headband, was busy attending to guests, followed by his seventeen-year-old son, Song Jiajian. Jiajian had never found a steady job and had recently been apprenticing under an old carpenter on the street.

Someone approached the boy and asked, “Jiajian, how did your mother end up in the river? Did she jump, or did she just slip and fall?”

Jiajian was much like his father—honest and a bit slow. If he didn’t know something, he simply shook his head. “Come inside and sit. My father wants you to have some tea.”

“Oh, look at this boy,” people whispered. “His mother is dead and he’s so calm. Does he even know he has no one to back him up anymore?”

Relatives tapped their heads suggestively. Although Sun Xiangcui had doted on her son and never allowed anyone to criticize him, everyone knew that Jiajian “wasn’t all there” mentally.

However, the real mystery remained: how exactly did Sun Xiangcui die? To outsiders, the family was relatively well-off for Song Zhuang Street. Song Aimin was a worker at the meat plant with a steady wage, and their daughter was set to marry the son of a state-owned factory director. Life should have been looking up; there was no reason to commit suicide.

Only Song Jiajia knew the truth.

Yesterday afternoon, she had a massive row with Sun Xiangcui. The cause was Liu Jiabao’s insistence on breaking their engagement.

Song Jiajia had gone from desperate flattery to throwing temper tantrums, but she finally realized that Liu Jiabao was serious. He had apologized sincerely, begged for her to let him go, and even said his family didn’t want the dowry gifts back.

“What about me?” Jiajia had cried. “Do you not want me either? Jiabao, I’m already yours. If you don’t want me, who will?”

Liu Jiabao, looking pained but resolute, said, “Jiajia, I’m sorry. I can’t worry about that anymore. I only realized a few days ago that my feelings for you are like a brother’s love for a sister. The person I truly love is Mingyue. For years, I’ve lived for others. This time, I want to be brave for myself. Please, let us be together.”

Song Jiajia had been numb with rage. She was unwilling to let go, even if it meant a bitter fight to the end. When she returned home and Sun Xiangcui called her to dinner, she vented all her hatred on her mother.

“It’s all your fault! Why did you go to Song Mingyue’s house to cause trouble? Now Jiabao wants to break the engagement! Why do you always ruin things for me? You’re a burden!”

Jiajia screamed and cried like a madwoman. She remembered her previous life—the first time she was pushed to a dead end. It was because her brother Jiajian needed to get married and the family had no money. Sun Xiangcui had begged her to find a way to earn cash. Back then, Jiajia loved her family and wanted to repay her parents’ kindness, so she entered into an affair with a married man for money. That had been the start of her ruin.

In this life, she had wanted a stable life and had given up her dreams of the outside world, yet her mother’s mistake had cornered her again. How could she not hate her?

Sun Xiangcui had been nagged by her daughter for days and was already consumed by regret. When Mingyue got engaged, she hadn’t even gone out to spread rumors, staying home to repent. But she hadn’t realized how severe the situation was. She changed her clothes and went to see Liu Jiabao herself.

But Liu Jiabao wouldn’t budge. He already found her crude and vulgar. As she droned on about what would happen to Jiajia, he felt as if a fly were buzzing in his ear. Finally, he said heartlessly, “Auntie, it’s impossible. I don’t love her, so I won’t marry her. You wouldn’t understand this kind of feeling.”

“Jiabao, what will it take to stop you? Breaking the engagement is the same as forcing me to die! If I die, will you stay with her?”

“Auntie, you can’t threaten me with that. The fate between me and Song Jiajia has ended. I’m sorry.” Liu Jiabao was already thinking about going home to write a love letter to Song Mingyue and didn’t even want to entertain her anymore.

Even worse, Liu Jiabao’s parents had always looked down on Song Jiajia. When Sun Xiangcui went to their house to plead, she was met with cold rejection.

On the way back, the moon was high. Passing by the river, her mind broke. It was as if a force were pulling her—if Liu Jiabao felt pity that Jiajia had no mother, would he reconsider the breakup? Sun Xiangcui was illiterate and narrow-minded; she simply wanted her family to prosper and others to suffer. Nothing else mattered.

As she had predicted, Liu Jiabao panicked the next morning when he heard of her death. He feared the Song family would blame him and asked everyone if they knew why she jumped.

“Isn’t she your future mother-in-law? If you don’t know, how would we?” people replied.

Only then did Liu Jiabao feel a bit of relief. Ever the “idealist,” he began to reflect on whether he was truly in the wrong. Love was beautiful, but he felt the weight of circumstances. He was young; how could he carry the burden of a human life on his conscience?

As the “son-in-law,” he had to show up or face public scorn. He rushed to Song Aimin’s house to find a sea of white mourning cloth. He knelt before the body and wailed, “Auntie, I’m sorry. I failed you.”

Sun Xiangcui’s older brother, a tall, burly farmer, overheard this and demanded, “Liu Jiabao, what do you mean? How did you fail my sister? Does her death have something to do with you?”

He pinned Liu Jiabao to the ground. Jiabao, terrified of the man’s strength, didn’t dare speak.

Song Aimin rushed over to break up the fight. “Brother-in-law, let him go. Jiabao didn’t mean anything else. Don’t misunderstand.” He knew the Liu family wanted to break the engagement, but he didn’t know his wife’s death was triggered by Jiabao.

Taking the opportunity, Aimin asked timidly, “Jiabao, in what capacity are you here? As my son-in-law, or just a friend?”

Liu Jiabao looked up and saw Song Jiajia crying, her eyes red. Between his “love” for Mingyue and the harsh reality before him, he chose to lie to his heart.

“Uncle Song, I am naturally Auntie Cui’s son-in-law.”

Song Jiajia finally reacted. Seeing Jiabao still on the ground, she rushed to block him. “Uncle, my mother’s bones aren’t even cold yet. Please don’t cause trouble in our house.”

“What bad luck,” the uncle spat. “How did my sister give birth to such a useless, money-grubbing girl who chooses a rich man over her own mother? Bah!”

After the uncle left, Liu Jiabao wiped Jiajia’s tears. “Jiajia, are you okay?”

“No. Jiabao, I have no mother now.”

“It’s okay. You have me. I’m sorry.” His apology was for Jiajia, and for the deceased Sun Xiangcui.

In the face of death, even great grudges seem to fade.

Wang Yufen, holding a roll of fabric, sighed to her family. “Song Aiguo, you and Mingnian go to the second brother’s house to see if they need help. Mingyue, you stay here. You’re leaving on a long trip soon.”

“Mom,” Mingnian asked, “didn’t Auntie used to argue with you the most?”

“You boy, what have you been learning in those books? Even if I fought with her every day, I wouldn’t wish her dead. She was usually so fierce; I don’t know why she couldn’t handle this. Even when Mingyue was in that state before, I never thought about dying.”

“Pah, pah, pah!” Song Mingyue, who was braiding her hair, stood up. “Mom, don’t talk like that. You have me and my brother. Nip those thoughts in the bud!”

Wang Yufen patted Mingyue’s braid affectionately. “I know. I’m just waiting for my Mingyue to come back in a few years and give me a grandchild.”

A grandchild seemed unlikely, but Song Mingyue believed life would only get better from here.

Sun Xiangcui’s death temporarily thinned the atmosphere of Mingyue’s departure. When Song Aiguo arrived at his brother’s house, Song Aimin finally broke down. “Big brother, my wife is gone.”

Only the two brothers remained in the Song family. Aimin had never been as sharp as Aiguo. During the years of famine, it was Aiguo who found ways to borrow food to keep them alive. After they married, the brothers drifted apart because of Sun Xiangcui’s overbearing nature.

“That old woman always wished ill on others,” Aimin lamented. “I didn’t think she’d be the first to go.”

“Grieve in moderation,” Aiguo comforted him. “The dead cannot return. You have Jiajian to think about; stay strong for him. If you ever need anything, come to me. Our parents are gone; I’m still your big brother.”

But Aiguo couldn’t stand being there, especially seeing Jiajia and Liu Jiabao clinging to each other. Jiajia acted as if she couldn’t live without him, which made Aiguo’s blood boil.

Jiajian quietly pulled his uncle aside. “Uncle, do you know how my mom died?”

“Do you know the reason?” Aiguo asked. He had always been kind to this nephew.

“She was driven to it by my sister and Brother Jiabao. My sister always yelled at her. That day, I heard Mom say she was going to find Brother Jiabao, and then she never came back.”

Aiguo looked at the couple crying together and thought Jiajian had a point. But without evidence, he couldn’t do anything. He suggested Jiajian tell his father.

Jiajian shook his head. “Telling Dad is useless. He wanted Mom to die sooner, too.”

“Jiajian, you shouldn’t say such things,” Aiguo chided gently. Jiajian went silent. He was a “transparent” presence in the house; everyone was too busy to notice him.

In the countryside, a suicide becomes gossip for a while before being forgotten. Regardless of the truth, they wouldn’t involve the police or air their dirty laundry.

Two days later was the funeral. As the eldest brother’s family, the Aiguos attended to see her off. Liu Jiabao acted fully as a son-in-law, carrying the funeral portrait alongside Jiajian.

When the coffin was lowered, everyone had to kowtow. Mingyue refused; Mingnian pulled her to the side. “I don’t want to kowtow either. Let’s just stand here.”

Liu Jiabao looked at Mingyue, his heart stirring again. But she didn’t give him a single glance. This pained him, and seeing his reaction made Song Jiajia unhappy.

Mingyue watched them with cold eyes. She truly thought Jiajia was out of her mind. Even if Liu Jiabao weren’t an indecisive scumbag, his involvement in her mother’s death should have blacklisted him forever. But “wicked people are tormented by other wicked people”—they deserved each other.

Before Mingyue left for the military post, her maternal aunt hosted a large dinner for the family. By the time they returned home, it was late. Just as she lay down, she heard three familiar taps on her window.

Mingyue was furious. She opened the door and cursed, “Liu Jiabao, did you forget what I told you? Who gave you permission to knock on my window again?”

“Yueyue, is this the last time? I came to say goodbye.” Liu Jiabao’s voice was full of longing. “In the future, even if I want to knock, I won’t be able to, will I?”

“…” Mingyue was disgusted by his fake sentiment. “If you really can’t forget me, then remember it for the rest of your life. Remember that you failed a good girl. You’re trash, and I hope you never find peace.”

“Yueyue, do you hate me that much? You’re leaving, and you won’t even say a proper goodbye?”

Mingyue’s anger peaked. Why should she have to listen to this? She stepped forward and slapped him hard. “That’s for Song Mingyue.”

Then, she slapped his other cheek. “And that’s for Song Jiajia—you can pay her debt for her.”

Liu Jiabao didn’t move. Tears welled in his eyes. “Yueyue, if hitting me makes you happy, hit me more.”

Before she could deliver a third strike, Song Mingnian heard the commotion and rushed out. He kicked Liu Jiabao to the ground and pulled Mingyue behind him. “Liu Jiabao! If you dare come here again, I’ll beat you every time I see you!”

Mingnian was usually mild-tempered, but Jiabao had crossed the line. He turned to his sister, worried. “Yueyue, don’t listen to his nonsense. Don’t believe a word he says.”

“I know, Brother. Don’t worry. This man is already dead to me.”

“Good.” Mingnian patted her head. “It feels like you’ve grown taller. In the future, I won’t be there to protect you. You’ll have to rely on yourself.”

“Brother, don’t be so sentimental,” Mingyue said, feeling a wave of sadness. “Go to sleep before we wake up Mom and Dad.”

Liu Jiabao walked away from the Song house, feeling forgotten by the world. At a turn in the road, he saw a figure waiting for him: Song Jiajian.

“Jiajian? What are you doing out so late?”

“Brother Jiabao, I was waiting for you.”

“Did your sister send you to follow me?”

Jiajian approached him slowly. “No. I’m here to get justice for my mother. You killed her, didn’t you? She went to find you and then she died. No one else knows, but I do.”

He had come prepared. He pulled a hammer from behind his back and struck Jiabao’s head before he could react. Jiajian had the strength of an ox.

A neighbor heard the cries for help and came out with a flashlight to find Liu Jiabao in a pool of blood. He was rushed to the hospital and survived, but the brain trauma was severe. When he woke up, he was “simple.” He didn’t recognize anyone and could only giggle. He couldn’t even eat or dress himself.

Song Jiajia, ever the realist, had promised the Liu family she would stay by his side while he was in the ICU. But seeing that she’d have to feed him like a baby, she immediately wanted to back out. However, the Liu parents weren’t pushovers. They threatened to send Jiajian to prison and produced a list of all the money Jiabao had spent on her. Song Jiajia was forced to marry him, essentially becoming his full-time nurse.

Mingnian later relayed all of this to Mingyue in a letter.

By the time the Liu family drama unfolded, Mingyue was already with Chen Che in Mocheng, a thousand kilometers away.

Wang Yufen had insisted Chen Che come to pick her up. On the day of departure, Yufen counted Mingyue’s belongings over and over.

Before they left, Chen Che asked her one more time: “You don’t have to go if you don’t want to. We can just file the marriage report; you can stay at home and remain free.”

Mingyue shook her head. Song Zhuang Street was a place of constant drama. She loved her family, but she didn’t want her life to revolve around petty squabbles. The world outside was calling.

Wang Yufen didn’t go to the station; she couldn’t bear to watch the train pull away. She handed Mingyue a small bag of food and a wrapped handkerchief. “This is your dowry money. Buy whatever you want to eat. Don’t be stingy. If you run out, write to your brother.”

“Mom, keep the money. I have some, and the military provides everything.”

“Take it. You need money when you’re away from home. Now go, or you’ll be late.”

Mingyue gave her mother a deep hug. She was grateful for the warmth she had found in the Song family. At the station, Song Aiguo spoke solemnly to Chen Che. “I’m entrusting my daughter to you. Bring her back to me whole and happy, alright?”

“I will,” Chen Che promised. “Please rest easy, Uncle.”

“I’ve always trusted the People’s Liberation Army. Yueyue, goodbye!”

As the train pulled away, the figures of her father and brother grew smaller until they vanished. Her new life was beginning.

The train was slow and noisy. Song Mingyue sat by the window with Chen Che protecting her side. She eventually fell asleep, and when she woke, it was pitch black outside.

Chen Che was also “asleep,” but he sat perfectly upright with his eyes closed, looking ready to spring into action at any second. Mingyue tried to reach for the food her mother had packed, but she saw a spread already laid out on the small table: tea eggs, corn, and grain buns.

Chen Che opened his eyes, his voice raspy from sleep. “The train stopped at a station. I didn’t know what you liked, so I bought a bit of everything.”

“Did you eat?” Mingyue cracked an egg, peeled it, and offered him half. When he shook his head, she stuffed it into his mouth. “Eat. It’s good.”

The journey was exhausting. On the second day, the train broke down. The conductor announced a three-to-four-hour delay for repairs. The passengers surged off the train to stretch.

“We can take turns,” Mingyue suggested. “I’ll go out for an hour and then swap with you.”

“I’ll go with you,” Chen Che said, hoisting all their heavy luggage onto his back as if it were nothing. He used his body to shield her from the crowd.

Outside, vendors were everywhere. Chen Che told her to wait and returned with a straw mat and a green bean popsicle. Mingyue’s eyes lit up. “Comrade Chen Che, you’re so kind!”

Chen Che didn’t reply, but his ears turned red as he laid out the mat. “Rest if you’re tired.”

Mingyue ended up falling asleep with her head on his shoulder. Chen Che didn’t move for two hours. A young couple nearby whispered in envy, “Look at him—so handsome and so protective of his wife. You should learn from him!”

Chen Che wondered: Are we a couple? Technically, yes. He had expected to hate marriage, but sitting there, he felt a strange sense of contentment.

After another transfer, they finally arrived in Mocheng on the third afternoon. Mingyue knew that in a few decades, this place would be a bustling metropolis—the land of gold where even “a pig could get rich.” But for now, it was a weathered little city.

As they exited the station, four young men in military uniforms ran toward them with wide grins.

“Commander! Welcome back, Commander!” they shouted, saluting.

Chen Che was stern and professional. The four men took the luggage, their eyes darting curiously toward Mingyue. Finally, one emboldened soldier asked, “Is this our Sister-in-law?”

“Hello, Sister-in-law!” they chimed.

“Hello,” Mingyue smiled. “I’m Song Mingyue.”

Seeing that Chen Che didn’t object, they grew lively. “Sister-in-law, I’m Wang Bing!” “I’m Qian Yuanxiang!” “Wang Haibo!” “Shen Sheng! We’re all the Commander’s men!”

“You have no idea how curious we were,” Wang Bing babbled. “You’re nothing like we imagined!”

“Oh? What did you imagine?” Mingyue asked.

They had expected an “ice block” to match their commander’s cold temper. But she was beautiful and kind. They wondered how she could stand him.

The drive to the military compound took over an hour. It was located on a coastal island. The environment was nice, with guards at the entrance and courtyards scattered along a path.

As they pulled up to their house, the soldiers whispered a warning: “Sister-in-law, most of the people here aren’t from our research institute. They aren’t very friendly. If they ignore you, don’t mind them.”

“Is it that complicated here?” Mingyue asked.

“Not exactly complicated,” they explained, “but we’re outsiders. Plus, some people tried to set the Commander up with their relatives before, and he turned them all down. They might be a bit petty now that he’s brought home a wife.”