Volume One, Chapter Ten: Her Fiancé

If Jiang Yingli were here, she would have immediately recognized the man they called "the Captain." He was none other than "Zhou Mo," the one who brought her into the village. Now, his expression was stern, exuding the aura of a leader. Though he wore the same clothes as before, his presence was worlds apart from what it had been in the village.

"No, is the Instructor here?" he asked.

"He went back to the dormitory."

Instructor Xu was his childhood friend, having grown up in the same compound. With a nod, he headed toward the dormitory.

The door swung open just as Xu Kuan had barely lain down. Propping himself up on his elbow with a hint of impatience, he grumbled, "Who... Yan Zhou, why are you back?"

Seeing it was Yuan Yanzhou, he threw aside his blanket and sat up, his face full of curiosity. "Why aren’t you staying in the village? There aren’t any missions lately."

Yuan Yanzhou didn’t answer. He slumped onto the bed opposite Xu Kuan, his tone tinged with confusion. "Jiang Yingli is here. She… she’s not what I expected."

Xu Kuan, sensing gossip, leaned in with interest. "What’s wrong, your fiancée is ugly? Commonplace? Not presentable? But she was raised by the Jiang family, and studied abroad for years—how could that be?"

Yuan Yanzhou was, in fact, Jiang Yingli’s fiancé, though she had never met him. After she went abroad, none of his letters ever received a reply; perhaps she thought he was too old, or perhaps she’d simply forgotten she had a fiancé at all. He didn’t insist on marrying her, but old Master Yuan had always pressed him, so he took up a post in Junzhou, hoping for some peace and quiet.

When news of the Jiang family’s purge reached the capital, old Master Yuan instructed him to protect Jiang Yingli. Yet before he could act, he heard she had already volunteered to go to the countryside. All he could do was change her assignment from Beidahuang to here, where she would be under his protection—no one would dare harm her.

Yuan Yanzhou shot Xu Kuan a sidelong glance, and Xu Kuan wisely zipped his lips, miming a sealed mouth.

"She doesn’t seem like someone who’s been pampered," Yanzhou said. He’d assumed she would be delicate, but she had gone to live in the cattle shed of her own accord, unfazed by the poor conditions, and had tidied it even better than the youth center.

"A young girl living abroad alone all those years—if she were delicate, she’d have been swallowed up long ago! You overthink things," Xu Kuan replied, helpless in the face of his friend’s obtuseness.

"Oh, your grandfather wrote," Xu Kuan added, pulling a letter from the drawer and handing it over. Yuan Yanzhou tore it open, scanning it quickly, his brow furrowing.

Purged on the grounds that Old Master Jiang was a collaborator? Impossible. That man had devoted his entire life to the country—even Yanzhou’s own grandfather admitted his service could not compare to Old Master Jiang’s.

His gaze settled on the final line of the letter: "You must protect the last bloodline of Old Master Jiang!"

"Alright, you’ve read the letter, can you go now? Don’t linger, or the villagers will notice," Xu Kuan urged.

Yuan Yanzhou stowed the letter and shifted the subject. "How’s the research progressing?"

Lying back, Xu Kuan propped his head on his hand. "Still no breakthroughs, I hear. We’ve been here nearly two years and haven’t accomplished a thing. These people really are just eating their fill and doing nothing."

They were stationed deep in the Junzhou mountains, partly to train in wilderness combat, partly to protect the scientists, and to let them focus on their research. But the researchers were temperamental and frail, so they were treated like royalty—no one dared hurry them, lest they quit.

The military district and the Fifth Production Brigade were separated by just one mountain. Each brigade near the district had their own cadre from their group to keep everything under control and prevent incidents. There were two such military districts like theirs.

"Independent research is always difficult—especially since foreign experts refuse to come; it’s all the harder," Yuan Yanzhou remarked as he locked away the letter in his dormitory and, under the moonlight, made his way back to the village. His feet, however, unconsciously carried him toward the cattle shed.

He stood quietly outside, listening to the silence within. Before the patrolling militiamen arrived, he turned and left.

Inside, Jiang Yingli heard the departing footsteps, loosening the grip on the dagger hidden under her pillow before rolling over to sleep. She had awakened as soon as she heard the steps—she recognized that sound. It was Captain Zhou.

Before dawn, Uncle Ding came to fetch the cattle and was startled to see Jiang Yingli emerge from another shed. "Young lady, why did you sleep here?"

Standing by the door, Jiang Yingli began her morning boxing routine, each punch cutting through the air. "I like living alone."

Uncle Ding said nothing, simply cast her a strange look, and led the cattle away.

After finishing her exercises, Jiang Yingli returned to her room for breakfast: a bowl of savory porridge made with beast meat. The meat was especially chewy, almost like rubber, but eating it strengthened the body. She finished every drop, her whole body flushing with warmth as the ache from exercise vanished.

She changed clothes and headed to the grain-drying yard, with Uncle Ding pointing the way.

Jiang Jinguo had already been waiting there since early morning; he’d hardly slept a wink for the stench from the night before, not to mention the constant stream of people coming to use the latrine. His face was sallow, his whole person reeking, and even the villagers beside him edged away.

He pretended not to notice. After everything he’d been through, his skin had grown thick enough.

Jiang Yingli’s arrival drew every eye, and when Jiang Jinguo saw her looking so healthy, jealousy flared in his gaze.

"Wretch," he muttered under his breath, unaware that Yuan Yanzhou, passing behind him, heard every word and glanced at him coolly.

"Comrades, the early rice seedlings will be delivered from the commune tomorrow. While they’re being cultivated, we need to prepare the fields!" The deputy captain stood atop the platform, rallying the villagers, who responded with enthusiasm.

"Let’s do it!"

Jiang Yingli watched the crowd’s excitement and, not wanting to stand out, lifted her chin and echoed them.

"Now the accountant will assign tasks!"

Once the assignments were given, everyone went to collect farming tools. Carrying a hoe and sickle, she followed the uncle from earlier up the mountain.

The farther they walked, the more curious she became. "Uncle, aren’t the fields down below?"

"There are terraces on the mountain. Early rice goes below; corn is planted in the terraces," he explained. "We finish at noon, eat together during busy season, rest until one-thirty, then work until six. Did you hand your grain coupons to the village?"

"No, I cook for myself."

Though not picky, Jiang Yingli refused to go hungry.

The uncle and his ox stopped at a terrace halfway up the mountain, stepping barefoot into the field. He led the ox in plowing ahead while she followed behind, gathering weeds and stones to throw out.

An hour later, the uncle sat on the embankment smoking his dry tobacco while Jiang Yingli, following the ox, pressed down on the plow. It was nothing like it looked—had she not been strong, the plow would have flown away long ago.

"You’re really lucky, girl, to be assigned such light work."

Jiang Yingli agreed—compared to breaking ground by hand with a hoe, this was indeed easy.

The uncle was a veteran, wounded on the battlefield before retiring. Now, he only tended cattle in the village.

She shrugged. "The captain probably took pity on me since I’m new."

Uncle Ding smacked his lips around his pipe but said nothing.

At six, the workday ended. Jiang Yingli returned the tools, collected her work points, and went back to the cattle shed—only to run straight into a group of female educated youths at the youth center.

"Stop right there!"