The half-hour buffer time was given to Qin Nian to process everything. She nodded slightly. When Shen Xianjun was called in, his expression appeared normal, but the moment the door closed behind him, his heart inexplicably sank.
The doctor laid out the facts plainly, and Shen Xianjun’s face changed. Qin Nian stood beside him, reaching out as if to offer comfort.
"It’s an old injury. I’ve trained for so long without issues, and the checkups never showed anything serious. Could you be overreacting?"
Shen Xianjun still clung to hope, unwilling to give up outright.
"Comrade Shen Xianjun, this was caught early—it’s the first time, so no severe consequences have occurred. But if you insist on continuing, the risks are beyond what any of us can bear. Whether it’s the life of a soldier or the loss of a fighter jet, the cost would be unbearably heavy."
The doctor’s words left Shen Xianjun silent. Qin Nian tightened her grip on his hand.
The doctor and the instructor stepped out, leaving the office to the two of them.
"Xianjun, don’t be too upset," Qin Nian urged softly.
Shen Xianjun lowered his head, lost in thought.
After a long pause, he finally spoke.
"Of course I’m upset. But a fighter jet is no small matter. Building one isn’t easy. If it were destroyed because of me, I’d never forgive myself."
Qin Nian ached for him. To have worked so hard, given so much, only to be stopped just as the fruits of his labor were within reach—it was unbearable.
"If I can’t fly, I’ll stay on the ground. If I can’t pilot a fighter, I’ll fix them."
Shen Xianjun lifted his head, speaking with determination. Seeing Qin Nian’s sorrow, he even managed a smile, pulling her into a reassuring embrace.
"I’m not dying—I just can’t fly anymore. I’m still me, and I can still be useful, right?"
"Right. Repairing jets isn’t hard. You’ve already studied mechanical principles. And modern fighters rely on computers too—I can find you the right books."
Qin Nian thought of ways she could help.
Shen Xianjun opened the door, still holding Qin Nian’s hand. Seeing the instructor outside, he let go and saluted.
"I request a transfer to the maintenance team. I know these jets inside out—I don’t want to give up. Please approve my application. I’ll submit the formal request as soon as I return."
"That’s the spirit. It’s good you’re thinking ahead. Our soldiers don’t buckle under small setbacks. Every screw has its purpose. We’ll await your transfer request. This way, you and your wife can work together—soon, you can even bring your child here to live with you."
The instructor’s tension eased. Losing a skilled pilot was regrettable, but the maintenance team was short-handed. Talent shouldn’t go to waste.
After a moment’s thought, the instructor decided to arrange a shared dormitory for the couple—no reason to let their own people suffer.
"Should we tell Mom about this?" Qin Nian asked as they walked to the canteen.
"It’s not a big deal. She’d just worry. I’ll need your help keeping it from her."
Shen Xianjun sounded apologetic. Without flying, his career would stall. He didn’t know how far he could go now, but he hoped to provide for his family. The only regret was causing his mother distress.
Meanwhile, Yang Yufen was bustling with activity. Building a major road was no small task.
Wearing a straw hat, she cleared weeds along the roadside while felled trees were carted away.
"Yufen, Yufen! Come drink some mung bean soup—don’t get heatstroke. This weather’s unbearable!"
Aunt Wang handed her a bowl. Yang Yufen wiped her sweaty face with a towel and gulped it down.
"There’s ice in this—feels even cooler than well water."
"Added a few cubes. Remember that big freezer Boss Fan sent? Works like a charm."
Yang Yufen finally recalled it. The freezer had arrived when it wasn’t needed, and she’d nearly forgotten about it. The first time it was used was after Old Yang’s accident—when they had to freeze a surplus of chickens to avoid waste.
Back then, Yang Yufen wasn’t at the orchard. Old Zhou made the call to slaughter them all, fearing they’d fall sick without water. The freezer was packed full, and they’d lamented the lost profits.
"Does that mean we can make our own ice pops now?" Yang Yufen chuckled.
"Exactly! Old Zhou said we should boil extra mung bean paste, sweeten it well—no point wasting electricity. We can even sell popsicles later."
Aunt Wang laughed too.
"Sounds exhausting."
"Old Zhou and the others don’t mind. The freezer’s running anyway. With so many workers on this road, we can hand some out to beat the heat."
Yang Yufen nodded.
"That’s a great idea."
"Once this road’s done, we can bring Old Yang home."
Aunt Wang’s tone softened.
"Need to finish fast. He’s already itching to leave the hospital. Thank goodness for Little Zhang looking after him."
At the hospital, Old Yang had accepted his paralysis. He’d suspected it early on—old age comes for everyone, and he’d always hoped not to burden others.
But Little Zhang was relentless, watching him like a hawk. Even though he couldn’t move, the young man insisted on washing him, massaging his limbs.
Old Yang had grumbled for days, but Little Zhang never left. If anything, their bond grew stronger. Now, he feared his own despair would hurt the boy, so he resolved to take each day as it came.
"Uncle, broken bones take time. It hasn’t even been that long. The orchard’s building a proper road now—five meters wide, paved with cement. Sturdy and smooth. No more bruised fruit from bumpy rides."
Little Zhang diligently wiped Old Yang down. The heat made it necessary.
He massaged the old man’s legs too. Even if they couldn’t move, keeping the blood flowing eased the discomfort.
"Uncle, my parents… they took medicine because they didn’t want to burden me. But if they really didn’t want to be a burden, why not just live? People mocked me, said I was useless for letting them go. Being alive—that’s what matters."
"Kid, that’s different," Old Yang retorted gruffly. His parents had acted out of fear, while he’d made peace with his situation.
"Then live well for me, Uncle. I’ll work hard, save up, marry a good woman someday."
Little Zhang grinned. Old Yang let go of his reluctance to trouble others.
"Mrs. Yang, heard you’re building a road. Must need trucks—I brought some help."
Boss Qian arrived with two vehicles in tow.
"Oh, wonderful! We could definitely use them. This is a huge help!"
