“How did you get here!” Jiang Xinghuai exclaimed in surprise and delight, running toward him.
Fu Yan caught him with one arm. With the other, he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it under Jiang Xinghuai’s nose. “What happened to your nose?”
Jiang Xinghuai didn’t think much of it and looked up at him. “It’s nothing. Weren’t you at the research building?”
“I heard the explosion.” Fu Yan frowned as he spoke, his gaze sweeping around. The overturned vehicles, the people fainted on the ground, and the charred black corner was visible through the main gate.
The situation was worse than he had expected.
Fu Yan tightened his arm around Jiang Xinghuai’s back. “What happened?”
“Mr. Fu.” Kang Cheng walked over and nodded in greeting.
“Captain Kang.” Fu Yan extended his hand. The two men shook briefly before letting go.
“The exact cause of the explosion still needs investigation. The blast site was the temporary camp outside the main gate. The base is safe for now, but we’ll need to go into lockdown. Please take him back to the residential area as soon as possible,” Kang Cheng said.
“Thank you, Captain Kang,” Fu Yan replied politely.
“It’s my duty.” Kang Cheng smiled, then turned to Jiang Xinghuai. “That’s it for today’s training. You win by default. I’ll have your prize sent to you later.”
“What do you mean, ‘I win by default’?” Jiang Xinghuai protested, still holding his nose. “I can go another round!”
“Go home first,” Kang Cheng said, reaching out to ruffle his hair.
“Captain Kang, we’ll be leaving now.” Fu Yan’s hand landed on Jiang Xinghuai’s head before Kang Cheng’s could. With a gentle smile, he said, “Please, go ahead with your work.”
Kang Cheng raised an eyebrow, withdrew his hand, and smiled in agreement.
After getting into the car, Jiang Xinghuai lowered the window and waved to Kang Cheng outside.
“Seatbelt.” Fu Yan grabbed the back of his neck, pulled him back into the seat, and rolled the window up again.
Jiang Xinghuai didn’t think much of it and focused on fastening his seatbelt.
Fu Yan turned the steering wheel to the left, avoiding the group of soldiers rushing past. Tilting his head slightly, he asked, “Is your nose still bleeding?”
“Doesn’t seem like it…” Jiang Xinghuai lifted the handkerchief and turned to show him.
“Look up.” Fu Yan glanced over and confirmed that the bleeding had stopped.
Jiang Xinghuai tilted his head back. “I’m fine. It’s probably just from the heat.”
Keeping his eyes on the road, Fu Yan reached sideways, his hand precisely finding Jiang Xinghuai’s face. He rubbed the bloodstains beneath his nose with the pad of his thumb, firm but careful. “That’s the second time already. This is what happens when you don’t eat vegetables.”
It was actually the third time. But Jiang Xinghuai wasn’t about to confess about the bloodstained pajama top.
“Ah, I do eat them,” he said guiltily, lowering his head and rummaging through the storage compartment. “Got anything to eat? I’m hungry.”
“No more snacks,” Fu Yan warned. “We’ll eat when we get back.”
“I gave my biscuit away this morning to someone who hit his head.” Jiang Xinghuai glanced down at the bloodstains on his own clothes, frowned slightly, and, after a moment of thought, lowered his voice. “Let me tell you about the explosion. I heard someone say it was the high-voltage power room that got blown up.”
“The high-voltage power room?” Fu Yan froze. “Why would anyone blow that up?”
“I don’t know.” Jiang Xinghuai shook his head, then recalled what he had seen when he climbed onto the truck earlier. Anger welled up in him again. “You didn’t see it. The people outside the gate… they were all blown to pieces. I climbed up and saw it myself. I…”
“Don’t think about it.” Fu Yan reached out and placed his hand on the back of Jiang Xinghuai’s head, patting him gently like soothing a small dog.
Jiang Xinghuai sighed, tilting his head and rubbing it against Fu Yan’s palm. With a sorrowful tone, he muttered, “Damn it.”
Fu Yan didn’t scold him. He just gave the back of his neck a light squeeze and turned to look out the window.
The car was driving through the narrow passage between two buildings. In the distance stood the tall iron fences of the former military district. Beyond them was a layer of blackened wire mesh, its shape barely discernible.
A few soldiers stood near the fence, clad in uniform.
The brief scene flashed past quickly.
Fu Yan looked forward again, his brows furrowed.
The high-voltage power room supplied electricity to the entire ring of reinforced electric fences around the base. Once it was destroyed, the whole outer grid would shut down. That facility was under tight military protection. Accidents were nearly impossible there.
Who could have slipped in under the army’s watch to blow it up, and why?
“There’s not a single person left.” Jiang Xinghuai leaned against the car window, watching outside. “From the moment the alarms went off till now, it’s been what, five minutes? The response time’s faster than our school’s earthquake drills.”
By now, the base’s alarms had stopped. As they drove into the residential zone, there wasn’t a soul to be seen. The streets were lined with soldiers patrolling with rifles, their expressions solemn and tense. The residential area, normally noisy and crowded, was eerily silent.
Fu Yan parked the car and took Jiang Xinghuai by the hand, leading him toward the dormitory building.
Fu Yan walked ahead while Jiang Xinghuai lagged behind, nibbling on the bread and sipping the juice Fu Yan had given him as he followed. When Fu Yan suddenly stopped, Jiang didn’t react in time and bumped right into his back.
“What’s wrong?” Jiang Xinghuai swallowed the bread, looked up, and saw someone completely unexpected.
——Jiang Liangyuan.
Jiang Liangyuan was dressed in a suit that was neither old nor new, with a pair of sneakers on his feet. He stood straight and stiff under the dormitory building. When he saw them approaching, his expression was unreadable. He shot a glare at Fu Yan, then turned and walked toward the greenery behind the building.
It was a signal for Jiang Xinghuai to come over alone.
Jiang Xinghuai glanced at Fu Yan, clutching the piece of bread in his hand, unsure what to do.
Fu Yan patted his back. “I’ll wait for you here.”
“I’m not going. I hate him.” Jiang Xinghuai took another bite of bread, staring at Jiang Liangyuan’s back.
Fu Yan said, “It’s your choice.”
Jiang Xinghuai took a few more bites in a row, finally forcing down the bread with some effort before muttering, “I want to ask him something.”
“Go on, then.” Fu Yan took the bread and juice from his hands. “You can finish eating when you get back.”
Jiang Xinghuai nodded, wiped his mouth, and walked over.
There wasn’t really anything he wanted to ask. When you stop expecting something, even the disappointment loses its sting.
But he still felt that suffocating weight in his chest. Whether he swallowed it or spat it out, Jiang Liangyuan had to give him an answer.
“Can’t even greet your father anymore, is that it?”
They stared at each other for a long time before Jiang Liangyuan finally spoke.
“Dad,” Jiang Xinghuai said.
Jiang Liangyuan’s expression flickered with visible surprise. He clearly hadn’t expected Jiang Xinghuai to call him Dad so straightforwardly.
“Have you ever worried about me?” Jiang Xinghuai asked.
“What?” Jiang Liangyuan didn’t react right away.
“If I had died at home, would you have been sad?” Jiang Xinghuai asked again.
“What are you talking about?” Jiang Liangyuan frowned. “Do you resent me now? Blame me for not going to find you first? How many times do I have to tell you that your aunt and the others were in a more dangerous situation at the time? Back then…”
More dangerous than him. One woman and one child. People who supposedly needed Jiang Liangyuan more than he did. It sounded reasonable, making Jiang Liangyuan sound blameless. Like it was Jiang Xinghuai who was immature, unreasonable.
Jiang Xinghuai didn’t want to listen anymore. He cut him off. “Alright. Why did you come here to find me?”
Jiang Liangyuan froze, then shot an impatient glance toward Fu Yan standing in the distance. His tone turned stern. “Go pack your things. You’re coming with me.”
“Go with you?” Jiang Xinghuai looked at him in surprise.
“You’re my son,” Jiang Liangyuan said with a frown.
“Do you actually think of me as your son?” Jiang Xinghuai frowned back, his tone sharp.
“You think I don’t?” Jiang Liangyuan was provoked, his voice rising before he abruptly stopped himself. He clenched his jaw, glanced around, then leaned closer and hissed through gritted teeth, his eyes red with anger. “If I didn’t think of you as my son, would I have come here to find you? If I didn’t see you as my son, would I let you stay here with that old man—”
He suddenly cut himself off, the rest of the sentence dying in his throat. After a pause, he pressed on irritably, “Enough. Go pack your things.”
There was no point continuing the conversation. Jiang Xinghuai turned around and walked away.
“Wait!” Jiang Liangyuan grabbed his arm. “Jiang Xinghuai!”
Jiang Xinghuai turned back, staring at the hand gripping his arm. He forced down the anger bubbling inside him and said, “Dad, up till now, it’s been over a month since we last saw each other after that fight at your company. When you saw me yesterday, the first thing you asked was how I got here. I thought… I thought at least you’d say something like…”
He stopped there, shrugged, suddenly finding it all pointless. He pulled his arm free from Jiang Liangyuan’s grip. “Forget it. I don’t blame you anymore. I used to, but not now. So I won’t be going with you. I’ve already told you. I hate that woman, and I hate your little son, too. But you never listen to what I say anyway, so it’s fine. Don’t bother listening this time either.”
Jiang Liangyuan opened his mouth but didn’t know what to say for a long while. Finally, his expression darkened. “I’m staying in the red-roofed building to the left. Tonight… if you change your mind before seven, come find me. I… I’m still your father. I wouldn’t hurt you. Why can’t you just… Forget it.”
“That’s all.” Jiang Liangyuan finished with a heavy sigh and walked away.
Jiang Xinghuai frowned as he watched his father’s back. Something didn’t feel right. Jiang Liangyuan was a man who cared deeply about appearances. After yesterday’s fight and losing face in front of so many people, he would never have taken the initiative to come find him, let alone ask him to move in with them.
He had a vague, uneasy feeling that something was off, but couldn’t piece it together yet. It was like holding several tangled threads in his hands, unsure which one to start unraveling first.
A broad, steady hand landed on his back. He turned and saw Fu Yan.
Fu Yan glanced at his face, then lightly touched the tip of his nose in comfort. “Weren’t you hungry? What are you spacing out for? Come on.”
“I just… feel like something’s wrong, but I can’t figure out what,” Jiang Xinghuai muttered, frowning as he tried to recall Jiang Liangyuan’s words.
“What is it?” Fu Yan asked.
“He said… he said…” Jiang Xinghuai tried hard to remember exactly what Jiang Liangyuan had said, but he couldn’t grasp the odd detail that had bothered him. All he could picture was that furious, overbearing face. The anger that had barely cooled inside him flared up all over again.
Saying something like “it was more dangerous over there than it was here”. What a load of pompous bullshit.
Damn it, that old bastard.
He really shouldn’t have expected anything decent to come out of Jiang Liangyuan’s mouth.
The more Jiang Xinghuai thought about it, the angrier he got. “Damn it, that old geezer even called you an old man! I mean—who’s old here? He’s already in his forties, practically halfway into the grave, and he’s calling you old?”
Fu Yan couldn’t help but laugh and cry at the same time. He took Jiang Xinghuai by the hand, guiding him upstairs while gently saying, “Alright, alright. What do you want to eat later?”
Jiang Xinghuai, successfully distracted, muttered under his breath, “Anything’s fine, just not vegetables.”
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