Chapter Nine: So This Is Fate

As for Grandpa Yang, who is he? Deputy Director of the Military Commission’s Science and Industry Committee—a figure of real authority there, directly overseeing personnel and logistics.

“Ah, Grandpa Yang, I came back this time mainly to see my old man, and second, for work. I don’t intend to work in the capital; it’s just not suitable for me, as you know.” Yang Hui scratched his head, a bit embarrassed.

It was laughable to think of staying in the capital for work. Under the emperor’s nose, there was hardly room to make a mark. For Yang Hui, this was not the place for big ambitions; if he wanted to accomplish something significant, he’d have to go far. The phrase ‘the further from the emperor, the freer one is’ wasn’t just idle talk—it was the distilled wisdom of countless predecessors.

“Mm, I agree, Hui isn’t suited to stay in BJ. It’s better for him to work elsewhere.”

At this point, the old man beside them played his role perfectly, explaining on Yang Hui’s behalf. After all, when Yang Hui changed jobs, he’d likely need to rely on this very person.

“Oh, is that so? Well, that’s fine. Young Hui isn’t quite ready for this place yet. It’ll do him good to work outside for a few years. Just come back often to visit us old folks. All right, come to my house sometime, and we’ll talk about where you plan to go—I’ll help arrange it.”

Director Yang was quite open-minded, but his words carried a hint of deeper meaning, inviting Yang Hui to his home for a discussion. Yang Hui could hardly miss the implication, but what could he do? To secure a job transfer, he’d have to brave the tiger’s den of Director Yang’s household.

“All right, since Hui is back today, let’s go inside and whip up a couple of dishes. Come on, come on.” Director Yang didn’t stand on ceremony, inviting the grandfather and grandson to head inside. Anyone could see the joy on his face.

“Fine, we’ll do as Old Yang says today. Hui, let’s go. We’ve eaten cafeteria food for decades; it’s time to try something different.” With that, he ignored Yang Hui and walked inside with Director Yang.

Choosing dishes, paying, then waiting for them to be served—that was the routine. But once the server spotted Director Yang, there was no need to pay; the meal could be charged to the unit. Taking advantage of the moment, Director Yang began to lecture Yang Hui.

“Hui, I watched you grow up. I know you’re not petty, so why do you turn away every time you see Yue? Is she really that scary? I just can’t figure you young people out. Back in our day…”

Even before stepping into the tiger’s den, the ideological work had begun. The cafeteria was threatening to become the very tiger’s den itself, and Yang Hui couldn’t help but be wary.

“Stop, stop, Grandpa Yang, surely you know about my situation with Yang Yue. When I was a kid, she chased me all over the compound—she only ever targeted me! I never saw anyone else being hunted like that.”

Yang Hui was full of grievances that still hadn’t faded. Whenever Yang Yue was mentioned, that old resentment would flare up. He still didn’t want to run into her—even now, not because he couldn’t win a fight, but because a boy fighting a girl in the courtyard was bound to be the subject of ridicule, even if they were just children.

“Haha…” The two old men laughed until they could hardly breathe, especially Old Yang, who slapped the table in delight.

“Oh, you really ought to think more. Why is Yue only interested in you?”

Director Yang paused, trying to guide Yang Hui’s thinking, as if he suspected Yang Hui’s emotional intelligence was lacking. Of course, back then, ‘emotional intelligence’ wasn’t a term yet, but that didn’t stop the two elders from pondering the concept.

Listening to this, Yang Hui sensed there might be something to it and fell into thought.

“Here’s your food,” came the call, abruptly breaking Yang Hui’s contemplation. He looked up.

“All right, don’t think about it now. Eat first—this meal is to welcome you back. Let’s not talk about that. Haha,” the old man urged.

The dishes from the agency’s cafeteria were truly the best of the best; otherwise, how could they take care of the leaders’ stomachs and ensure they could serve the people without distraction? If a director came to eat, they would certainly pull out all the stops.

“Director, if you don’t need anything else, I’ll take my leave.” The server quietly backed out.

“Go on, go on, we don’t need anything. You’ve been very helpful, comrade.” The personal cultivation of the old generation of revolutionaries had been honed over countless trials—everyone was addressed as ‘comrade’ in those days, even the night soil collectors, without discrimination.

Halfway through the meal, Director Yang paused and spoke to the old man, “Old Li, you only retired last year, so you might not know—our Military Commission’s Science and Industry Committee is about to merge. Even I feel my future is uncertain. The whole unit is on edge.”

Director Yang shared this somewhat confidential news, though by now, anyone who asked would know—the entire unit was aware.

The old man stopped eating, considering the words. “I’m retired now and not privy to the details. If it’s a merger, so be it. The Committee is so large; after the merger, it won’t be marginalized. Just focus on your duties. That’s my view, old friend.”

The two fell silent, slowly picking at their food. The mood remained heavy throughout the meal. Yang Hui knew a bit about what would happen later, but he couldn’t say anything; he couldn’t play the prophet and predict central documents—that would be a dangerous game.

The three left the cafeteria, night having already fallen outside. The dim streetlights cast long shadows as they walked.

“All right, we’re home. I’ll head up first; you two take care now. Oh, Hui, remember to come to my house tomorrow,” Director Yang added at the end, making Yang Hui scratch his head.

He had no idea what challenges awaited him tomorrow. Yang Yue wasn’t easy to deal with either. The more he thought about it, the more unsettled he became, so he quickened his pace to catch up with the old man walking ahead.

The old man had watched Yang Hui and his friends grow up; how could he not know all their childhood squabbles? He chuckled and teased, “You really are thick-headed. Yue is only interested in you—don’t you wonder why? She’s made it so obvious, and you still don’t get it. Maybe you’re just pretending.”

Normally, the old man didn’t say much, but suddenly he tossed out such a bombshell that it left Yang Hui utterly stunned.

Could it really be true? Yang Hui silently recalled his years before university.

...

“Yang Hui, which university are you applying to?” That time, Yang Yue didn’t argue with him for the first time, but asked him seriously.

Back then, Yang Hui was carefree. Hearing her question, he worried she might follow him, so he hatched a cunning plan—he lied to get her out of BJ, hoping to stay in BJ himself, and casually named his father’s hometown.

“Oh, I plan to go to Nanjing, to study at Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics,” Yang Hui replied offhandedly.

Who could have guessed that, in the end, his grandfather objected, so Yang Hui didn’t stay in BJ but ended up studying in Xi’an. When he got his admission letter, Yang Hui had an inkling.

“Yang Hui, you lied to me. Is this what you meant by studying in Nanjing?”

Yang Yue, furious, pointed at the admission notice in Yang Hui’s hand—while hers was unmistakably from Nanjing University of Aeronautics and Astronautics.

Yang Hui, seeing her anger, replied sheepishly, “Actually, I intended to go to Nanjing at first, but thinking about how fierce you are every day, I couldn’t imagine what university life would be like. So I ended up at Xi’an University of Technology. You’re a good person, really, but I just can’t take your fierceness.”

Listening to Yang Hui, Yang Yue slowly walked away. Perhaps seeing her made Yang Hui regret his actions.

“Nanjing is a good place. You’ll gain a lot there.”

...

After that, Yang Hui never saw Yang Yue again. He hadn’t realized there was so much hidden beneath the surface.

Seeing Yang Hui slow his pace, lost in memories, the old man slowed down to walk alongside him.

“Hui, Yue is a good girl. Do what you think best,” the old man said, then quickened his pace, leaving Yang Hui to ponder in silence. There was only so much the old man could say.

When he got home and opened the door, Yang Hui was still dazed. Clearly, this revelation had hit him hard.

“Hui, come here. Tomorrow, take this bottle of wine to Uncle Yang’s house. I’m old; I don’t really drink anymore.” The old man took out the last bottle of vintage Maotai he had collected years ago, examined it, and solemnly handed it to Yang Hui.

“Isn’t that unnecessary? Why not wait for Uncle Yang to come over and drink it with you? Why have me take it?”

“You don’t understand. Your Uncle Yang thinks highly of you, but you fooled Yue last time. You need to show some courtesy when you go tomorrow—don’t be so careless all the time,” the old man instructed, then retreated to his room, knowing there was nothing more to say tonight. Yang Hui needed to think things over himself.

Waving his hand, “Go on now, I’m off to bed.”

Yang Hui said nothing more, turning toward his own room.