Yang Yufen waited a full two hours before Political Commissar Zhao finally arrived.
"Aunt Yang, what brings you here?"
"Commissar Zhao, can we find a secure place to talk?"
Yang Yufen spoke in a hushed tone. Political Commissar Zhao paused briefly, then led her to an office.
"You can speak freely here, Aunt Yang. It’s safe."
As Commissar Zhao prepared to pour her a glass of water, Yang Yufen pulled out a nearly melted wax pill.
"I saw Xianjun at Third Hospital. He slipped this to me without saying a word."
Commissar Zhao quickly took the wax pill, his expression grave.
"Please wait here, Aunt Yang."
He stepped out to make a phone call. Fifteen minutes later, Yang Yufen was face-to-face with the military district’s senior officer and her son’s former company commander.
The three of them cracked open the wax pill. After reading its contents, they slammed their fists on the table in anger.
"Aunt Yang, it seems you’ve already guessed part of it. Comrade Shen accidentally came into contact with enemy agents during a mission. By the time the organization realized, his cover was nearly blown. They decided to have him go deeper undercover, which is why the news was kept quiet. But this matter can’t be disclosed yet."
"I understand. As long as he’s alive, that’s enough. I have two children at home, and I’ve been away too long."
Yang Yufen nodded.
"Thank you for your efforts, Aunt Yang. Please be cautious in the coming days—avoid going out unless absolutely necessary."
Commissar Zhao personally escorted her out of the military compound.
Back in the office:
"Sir, what should we do about this? If they succeed in detonating it, the hospital’s patients won’t stand a chance."
"They’re trying to divert our attention. Let’s turn the tables—Third Hospital has a boiler, right? Use its explosion to mislead them into thinking their plan worked. We’ll lure out the big fish. The military parade must proceed without a single mishap!"
"But a boiler explosion will still cause panic. What about the patients?"
"Call it a drill. Notify them in advance—frame it as a surprise inspection of emergency preparedness."
"Understood. I’ll make the arrangements."
Unaware of these plans, Yang Yufen went home. Shen Xianjun was also anxious—he never expected to run into his mother. But with eyes constantly watching him, he’d struggled to pass along the message. This was his only chance.
Less than ten hours remained until the National Day celebrations.
At 3 a.m., an explosion rocked Third People’s Hospital. The night sky lit up with flames.
The blast was a signal.
"Xianjun, my stomach hurts. Stay with me, please."
Jiang Rourou tugged at Shen Xianjun’s sleeve.
"Should I take you to the hospital?"
Shen Xianjun sounded concerned.
"It’s probably chaos there right now. Let’s wait. I have a bad feeling about this."
Time crawled by until dawn broke, and the stirring notes of a military march filled the air.
"Something’s wrong. We need to leave—now."
Jiang Rourou, unable to wait any longer, ignored her pain.
"No, security will be tight now. If something’s happened, moving is the riskiest choice. Let’s go to the hospital—your pregnancy is a valid reason. We’ll figure it out there."
At the hospital, Jiang Rourou tried to gather information, but her condition worsened. She was rushed into surgery.
Watching the doors close behind her, Shen Xianjun finally exhaled in relief.
At last, he could reclaim his true identity.
Stepping outside to make a call, he was almost at the phone booth when a newspaper headline caught his eye. A hand clapped his shoulder—instinctively, he tensed to strike.
Turning, he recognized the face.
"Brother Lan! I was just about to call you. Rourou—she’s in surgery. I failed to protect her. I’m sorry."
"How is she?"
Brother Lan’s voice was thick with worry.
"Let me take you to her."
Shen Xianjun offered, but Brother Lan shook his head.
"I can’t see her now. The mission’s gone sideways. I’ll contact you later. Take care of Rourou. Here’s a new address—take her there after she’s discharged. Wait for my call."
With a pat on Shen Xianjun’s shoulder, Brother Lan mounted his bicycle and vanished.
Shen Xianjun bought some food before returning to the surgery ward.
At the residential compound, neighbors crowded around a TV. Children perched on bamboo beds, women on stools, snacking on shared peanuts and sunflower seeds.
"Look! They’re coming out! Wow!"
The screen flashed with figures, each met with cheers.
"Planes! So cool! I’m gonna fly one someday!"
"Tanks! I’ll be a tank soldier and shoot down planes!"
Kids chattered excitedly; adults watched, rapt.
"Is that Little Qin? Sister Yang, your daughter-in-law’s on TV with her mentor! That uniform suits her!"
Yang Yufen beamed as her grandchildren shrieked, "Mom! That’s Mom!"
The group played spot-the-familiar-face.
"Our country’s grown so strong. Life will only get better."
"Feels like the war was yesterday… and also forever ago."
It was the first military parade in twenty-four years. Foreign journalists swarmed, their skepticism crumbling to awe.
Yang Yufen celebrated by slaughtering a chicken, expecting Qin Nian home by evening. When she didn’t arrive, Yang Yufen wasn’t fazed—there’d be another chicken next time.
The family feasted. After a week of holiday fun, the kids nearly overslept for school—mornings had turned chilly, tempting them to linger under blankets.
With the children in class, Yang Yufen found herself idle. Her bamboo birdcage business had dried up, and with kids around, the sharp splinters were too risky.
As autumn deepened, she revived an old trade: roasted sweet potatoes.
Timing was perfect—kids ate lunch at school, so she could set up after drop-off and pack up before pickup. Leftovers? No problem—her grandchildren loved them.
She got to work. Her usual spot was taken, so she chose Third Hospital’s entrance instead.
Sweet potatoes weren’t unique, though. Another idea came to mind—she’d need to shop for supplies first.
