Brother Weiming?
Yang Weiming wasn’t wearing his public security uniform today. He was in plain clothes and carried an army-green satchel in his hand.
That day when Zhou Zhijun had sent her off, they just happened to run into Yang Weiming on the road. At the time, Yang Weiming suspected there was something going on between them, but he didn’t make things difficult and let them go.
Besides, she hadn’t even told him her address—how had he managed to find her here?
The one guiding Yang Weiming was a half-grown child, who pointed from a distance at the house of Second Aunt Zhou’s family and shouted, “That’s it! The home of Liu Dashan’s mother!”
Yang Weiming turned and gave an order to the child, who promptly bolted off. He himself strode straight toward the yard.
Chuntao quickly crouched down low, terrified of being seen by Yang Weiming.
The big yellow dog in the yard, however, barked more and more fiercely, and Chuntao’s heart was tightly clenched, rising to her throat.
Xiangguo had told her this dog, Big Yellow, was ferocious! What would happen if it bit someone?
Just as she grew worried, she heard Big Yellow let out a howl and lunge forward, immediately followed by Yang Weiming’s sharp shout.
Chuntao was so startled her whole body jolted. Abandoning all caution, she rushed out to pull open the northern room’s door and yelled at the top of her voice, “Big Yellow!”
She steadied herself against the doorframe and shouted again, “Come here!”
Big Yellow was about to pounce on Yang Weiming the instant it heard Chuntao’s voice. It stopped in its tracks and turned its head to look at her.
“Come here!”
Her body weak, Chuntao called softly once more. Big Yellow immediately wagged its tail and padded over, rubbing its body against her leg, all the while keeping its eyes warily fixed on Yang Weiming.
“Chuntao!” Yang Weiming called her name and strode toward her.
Big Yellow glanced at Yang Weiming, then at Chuntao, as if asking her, “Who is this person?”
“Lie down there!” Chuntao pointed at the shade under a tree in the yard. Big Yellow obediently ambled over and lay down, though its eyes kept darting between her and Yang Weiming.
“Brother Weiming, how come you’re here?”
Yang Weiming looked at her. The sharpness in his eyes instantly softened. “Chuntao, I came to see you.”
Ever since the day he learned that Wang Jieshi had framed Chuntao, forcing her into a scheme to borrow a seed for pregnancy, Yang Weiming’s heart had been unable to find peace.
He’d made a special trip back to Qingshan Commune to dig into the case’s details thoroughly. Learning that Wang Jieshi had schemed against Chuntao again and again only stoked his fury.
He slammed the table and roared, “What a scumbag! Getting off with a suspended sentence is way too merciful for him!”
Deputy Chief Wang sighed beside him. “Who says so? But the man’s a cripple, and there wasn’t much else to be done. Luckily, the victim has left. From now on, she won’t be under his thumb anymore.”
Everyone had seen how much Chuntao had suffered all those years in the Wang family. Leaving them was nothing short of escaping a sea of suffering and turning her life around.
But the day he went to arrest someone in Dongshan, when he bumped into Chuntao on the road, he couldn’t shake the feeling that something was off between her and the man beside her—as if they were hiding something.
Yang Weiming’s mind churned anxiously. He was terrified that Chuntao might have just leapt out of one fiery pit only to fall into another.
After he asked Deputy Chief Wang, he learned the man’s name was Zhou Zhijun and got the full background. He found out that the Zhou family had been exceptionally kind and supportive toward Chuntao.
His worries abated a bit, but going by sheer male instinct, he still felt Zhou Zhijun’s help for Chuntao was anything but simple.
Leaving the police station, he turned to a relative for more information and found out that Zhou Zhijun’s second aunt lived in Liujiagou, Dongshan. He also heard no shortage of gossip about Chuntao and Zhou Zhijun.
And recalling the way Zhou Zhijun had guarded Chuntao that day, Yang Weiming’s heart grew even more tangled than a ball of hemp.
These past few days, he had finished handling the urgent tasks at hand and managed to squeeze in time to come here. He had to figure out what was really going on.
At this moment, how Yang Weiming had found this place was no longer important. What mattered was that he absolutely couldn’t let him see anything unusual about her.
Chuntao forced herself to muster some energy and squeezed out a faint, reluctant smile. “Brother Weiming!”
She pulled the chair beside her closer to him. “Take a rest. I’ll go pour you a bowl of tea!”
“No need.”
Yang Weiming pulled over a chair himself and sat down. “Don’t bother. Sit down and rest too.”
Seeing Chuntao’s pale complexion and frail body, worn down by the Wang family’s mistreatment, a pang of bitterness shot through Yang Weiming’s heart.
If she hadn’t been part of that exchange marriage back then, or if he had known sooner that she and Wang Jieshi had never officially registered their marriage, she would have been his wife by now. He would have cherished her like a precious gem, protected her with all his heart...
His eyes were full of concern. “Chuntao, I know all about what you’ve been through.”
The moment he said that, Chuntao’s heart gave a jolt—like it had suddenly plummeted into an abyss.
Did he know she was carrying Zhou Zhijun’s child?
Chuntao was so ashamed she wished the ground would swallow her. Her cheeks burned, and she lowered her head even further, not daring to look at him.
Seeing her so flustered, Yang Weiming felt even worse.
“Chuntao, the hard days are behind you. Things will get better from now on,” he said in a soft, comforting voice.
When she didn’t respond, still keeping her head down, he added, “I came today for two reasons: one, to see you, and two, to understand your situation.”
Understand her situation? Chuntao’s heart tightened even more. Her fingers gripped the hem of her clothes tightly.
“Chuntao, now that you’ve left that fiery pit, you should start living well. Why are you hiding here in this deep mountain valley?”
She couldn’t go back to her family either. Where else could she go? If it weren’t for Zhou Zhijun, she would probably have ended up begging on the streets by now.
Chuntao’s nose stung, and tears instantly blurred her vision.
Afraid Yang Weiming would see, she bit her lip hard, forcing the tears back, barely daring to breathe.
Having grown up with her, Yang Weiming knew her nature best. She never liked to speak of her grievances, always bottling them up and bearing them alone.
Those rumors might be true. Chuntao was soft-hearted. Had she been pressured by him?
He wanted to ask what her relationship with Zhou Zhijun really was, but the words stuck in his throat.
The bond between them had long been broken. Her private matters now—what right did he have to pry?
As an old neighbor? A public security officer? Or as that early, long-lost first love?
None of these identities were fitting.
But he had made a special trip here today to find out. If he didn’t clear things up, this heavy feeling in his heart would never go away.
He was a former soldier—now the captain of the county’s Severe Crackdown Task Force. He was always decisive, never one to beat around the bush. Yet faced with Chuntao, he found himself struggling, unsure how to even begin.
Asking directly about her relationship with Zhou Zhijun wouldn’t just be inappropriate—it might hurt her and embarrass her further.
After a long pause, Yang Weiming finally spoke again, his voice low. “Chuntao, what are your plans from now on?”
Chuntao couldn’t answer that question.
She was carrying Zhou Zhijun’s child. He had told her that after the baby was born and the crackdown had died down, they would get their marriage certificate and settle down together.
That was Zhou Zhijun’s plan—it was also her only hope. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it to Yang Weiming.
“I... I don’t have any plans. I’ll just take things one step at a time.” Her voice was as faint as a mosquito’s buzz, her head bowed so low it almost touched her chest.
Yang Weiming let out a heavy sigh. "...We can't just stay here forever, that's no solution."
"I'm just a woman, can't go back to my family, and I've got no other way out. What else can I do?" Chuntao's voice was thick with helplessness.
Yes, that was reality.
Unless... she got married.
But he was already married himself, unable to give her a home. Only deep pity remained in his heart.
Yang Weiming was silent for a long time before suddenly speaking, "No matter what, don't let yourself suffer. If anyone bullies you, you must tell me. I'll have your back!"
With that, he opened his army-green canvas bag, pulled out a bottle of malted milk and two boxes of mooncakes, and gently placed them on the table.
He stood up to leave. Chuntao's heart, which had been hanging all this time, finally settled—but then her stomach suddenly churned, waves of nausea washing over her.
She quickly covered her mouth with one hand, pressing the other firmly against her chest, but couldn't suppress the sick feeling. She doubled over, crouching to the ground, dry heaving.
Yang Weiming's foot, just about to step out the door, suddenly stopped. He turned back to look at her, his gaze deepening instantly. "Chuntao, what's wrong?" he asked urgently.
