The Stunningly Beautiful and Delicate Darling in the 1980s Military Compound - Chapter 37

Well…

Life has a few of those “heady” moments where emotion completely overpowers logic. You do something in the heat of the moment, and when you remember it later, you want to curl your toes into the ground in embarrassment.

For Song Mingyue, loudly confessing her love to someone in front of a crowd of rural folks in the 1980s was exactly one of those moments.

Once she finished her outburst and her emotions settled slightly, she realized the people present were looking at her differently. In the countryside, even old married couples rarely, if ever, used the word “love” with each other.

Then there were people like Wang Bing—a grown man who had started crying while listening to her. The bond between the Commander and the Sister-in-law was just too moving. He decided then and there: if the Commander ever mistreated her in the future, he’d be the first to object.

Mingyue felt a bit “socially dead,” but she also felt much better having spoken her mind. She was disheveled and covered in grime, anything but elegant, yet her eyes remained clear and transparent.

Looking at her, Chen Che felt his heart melt. He gently wiped her tears away. So much joy had flooded in at once that he felt like he was in a dream. He feared that when he woke up, everything he cherished would vanish.

For the first twenty-seven years of his life, his heart had only held his military uniform. Once he put it on, it became his duty and responsibility. “Studying for the rise of China” had been his ambition since childhood. He had gone to military school and, during the most rigorous times, chose the missile research institute. It was not an easy path; the sacrifices were immense.

He thought he had seen his entire life laid out before him—until he met this girl.

During the most dangerous moments of the disaster, Chen Che had wondered: if he sacrificed himself today, what would be his greatest regret? No matter how he thought about it, the same face kept appearing in his mind.

But Song Mingyue was braver than him. While he only dared to think, she had actually rushed here. This pampered girl, whom her mother, Wang Yufen, claimed “knew nothing,” had traveled a thousand miles to find him.

From that moment on, Chen Che made a silent vow. He would keep his uniform, but for the rest of his life, he would not fail either his duty or her.

Suddenly, someone shouted from the village. A house had been crushed, and there might still be survivors. Everyone present rushed toward the scene. Chen Che handed Mingyue over to the village chief, and without a spare moment for words, he led Wang Bing and Shen Sheng into the rescue effort.

The villagers didn’t know the proper techniques, but the soldiers were professionally trained. Rescue operations were much more efficient in their hands.

While the men were working, the village chief’s wife led Mingyue back into the village. The weather shifted between bright and overcast, mirroring Mingyue’s mood. She sat by a stone mill at the village entrance, watching the women grind flour and staring blankly into space.

Something feels missing!

Mostly, it was Chen Che’s reaction. Everyone around them had been moved to tears, yet his emotional fluctuation hadn’t seemed obvious. He’d left her here after just a few simple words. Yes, there was a rescue mission, but she felt a bit sour. It was her first active confession! She’d thrown away her dignity; shouldn’t there be some grand, romantic gesture? Instead, she was sitting here alone, unable to process her feelings.

As she brooded, a woman approached her with an elderly lady and a child.

“Grandma Jia, this is her,” the woman introduced. “She’s the wife of that PLA soldier.”

In the next second, the old woman and the child began kowtowing repeatedly in front of Mingyue. “A family of Bodhisattvas! Thank you, thank you!”

Mingyue snapped out of her funk and hurried to help the elderly woman up. “Grandma, what are you doing?”

“Just let her kowtow,” the other woman added. “If it weren’t for your husband, their whole family wouldn’t be here right now.”

In addition to her gratitude, the old woman brought a basket of eggs—at least twenty of them. In this place, at this time, an egg was a luxury. Twenty eggs were an staggering sight.

The woman explained the grandmother was hard of hearing and urged Mingyue to accept. “It’s their way of showing thanks. If you don’t take them, they’ll feel terrible.”

Mingyue placed the eggs back into the grandmother’s hands. She raised her voice so the woman could hear. “Grandma, I’ll accept the thanks on behalf of my husband, but I can’t take the eggs. They are soldiers; helping the people is their duty. Please, don’t feel burdened.”

The grandmother’s tears fell as she continued to mutter her thanks to the PLA.

After they left, more villagers approached. One offered corn tea; others brought egg custard, steamed rice, or boiled potatoes. These were the absolute limits of what these families could offer.

Mingyue suddenly felt a sense of release. If it wasn’t for a life-saving debt, who would offer their best food in their darkest hour? This was the meaning of Chen Che’s work. Her attraction to him was tied to his noble ambition of “looking up at the stars.”

She let go of her resentment and began chatting with the villagers. She told them about the outside world, assuring them things would get better. In a few decades, she said, no one would go hungry, and every house would have a television and a computer.

They didn’t know what a computer was, and they didn’t believe her about the TVs. “Impossible. We don’t even have electricity here. That’s a fancy thing for city people. A TV costs several years’ worth of our harvest. Comrade Mingyue, we know you’re trying to comfort us, but we know our place.”

Mingyue didn’t argue. She just encouraged them to take care of the days ahead.

Chen Che and the men didn’t return until after dark. Mingyue waited in the courtyard, jumping up at every sound. The village chief’s wife sat with her, sharing stories of the past few days.

It turned out Chen Che and his team had been in the most dangerous section. Only their experience had allowed them to escape death. Since emerging, they had been helping the village nonstop.

The chief’s wife chuckled. “The villagers call them ‘Living Lei Fengs.’ I only found out today that the tall leader is named Chen Che.”

No wonder Mingyue hadn’t found them earlier; here, they were nameless heroes. “If not for this squad, the deaths in our village would have doubled. Comrade Mingyue, you’ve truly married a good man.”

“Thank you for telling me that.” Mingyue’s smile was firm under the moonlight. “Honestly, I was a bit resentful on the way here. I hated that he had to be so ‘great’—taking care of others when he couldn’t even take care of himself. But hearing you say this, I understand.”

In one afternoon, she had seen dozens of people—dozens of living souls. If they had truly died, what a tragedy it would have been. Her confession to Chen Che had been heartfelt; whatever he did in the future, she would support him without reservation.

At around 7:00 PM, there was finally movement at the door. A group of men covered in dirt and soot walked in. From their expressions, the rescue hadn’t gone well.

Mingyue didn’t bring it up. She greeted Shen Sheng first. “You’re back? Have you eaten? Auntie Yuhua saved some corn porridge for you.”

As Mingyue helped serve the porridge, Chen Che took a small bowl and finished it in a few gulps. Mingyue knew he wasn’t full. “I’ll get you another bowl.”

She went into the kitchen area, and Chen Che followed her. “Go sit and rest,” she said, ladle in hand. “I’ll get it.”

Instead, he hugged her from behind, his palms brushing the skin of her arms. His embrace was thick and solid; Mingyue could hear the steady, powerful thrum of his heartbeat. She softened, whispering with a smile, “Let go, someone will come in.”

“Don’t move. Let me hold you for a moment.”

His voice was thick with exhaustion. Mingyue put down the ladle and turned around to wrap her arms around him. Neither spoke, but in that moment, they were connected. She could feel his powerlessness and his sorrow.

After a while, Wang Bing called from the door. “Commander, can I come in for more porridge?”

Chen Che separated from Mingyue with a cold face, but Mingyue, being the clever one, reached out and hooked her finger into his palm as they walked out—a blatant, secret display of affection.

The next morning, the villagers came out early to see them off. The “lined-up farewell” described in textbooks wasn’t an exaggeration. The muddy paths were flanked by locals who were thin and hungry, yet their gratitude was palpable.

Mingyue sat next to Chen Che in the truck, gripping his hand tightly. If this had been before, she might have wondered if this Commander Chen lacked emotion because he looked so stoic. But now, she understood him. Some feelings didn’t need to be displayed; just because they weren’t on the surface didn’t mean they didn’t exist.

To Mingyue’s right was a small bundle. Inside was a letter the village chief’s wife had handed her as they left. She said Chen Che had asked her to help mail it to his wife. Now that Mingyue was here, she was handing it to her personally.

A letter? Mingyue was dying of curiosity. She wanted to see exactly what Chen Che had written to her in what he might have thought were his final moments.