Before he could act on his knot of emotions, Pei Yusheng’s voice came out subtly nuanced, though not harsh. Seeing that his attempt to divert attention had worked, he added lightly, “Just joking, don’t mind me.”
He tapped on the crab roe already shelled in front of him. “Try this, it won’t taste as good once it cools.”
Jingwei, also busy cracking crab beside him, looked surprised. “Pei, you’re really fast. Do you eat this often?”
Pei Yusheng only replied with a monosyllabic, “Mm,” though in his mind, the truth was that he didn’t eat often—it was just that his frustration made him ruthless with the shell.
The topic shifted smoothly, and while Qi Ji might not have understood, He Xiu certainly did. Seeing the flow, He Xiu began to talk about the crab feast itself, recounting stories from Yangcheng Lake and Hong Lake. Qi Ji kept his mind occupied, avoiding memories of his parents.
But the evening’s true focus remained the two unexpectedly reunited, and soon the conversation drifted into past events.
“Thinking back, Qi Qi, I guess it really was fate,” He Xiu said. “Do you remember our first meeting? You must have been… what, five or six?”
Qi Ji nodded—six years old, second grade.
“I remember it was late at night. I had just returned home when I saw a shadow on the wall. At first, I thought it was some petty thief,” He Xiu chuckled, “but it turned out to be a tiny little figure.”
Pei Yusheng frowned slightly. “…On the wall?”
“Yes,” He Xiu nodded. “You were climbing over it. Though the rural walls weren’t hard to scale, they were still taller than you. I still don’t know how your little legs managed it.”
Qi Ji pretended not to hear the term “little legs,” burying his head in the crab roll.
“At that time, I was new to the small town, a complete stranger, freshly retired, always stern-faced and quick-tempered. Many people were afraid of me, walking around me by hundreds of meters. You, however, didn’t react—you just kept climbing silently.”
Qi Ji: “….”
Beside him, Pei Yusheng didn’t even dare raise his head.
But Pei Yusheng’s attention wasn’t on the story itself; he quietly asked, “Why climb over the wall at midnight?”
The child had been so small.
“He didn’t want to sleep at his aunt’s, wanted to get back home,” He Xiu explained. “And then he got stuck on the wall.”
“And then?” Pei Yusheng frowned.
“My rental was right next door,” Qi Ji murmured without looking up. “I’d forgotten my keys that day, so I climbed over too.”
That was the first time He Xiu had carried Qi Ji single-handedly.
“Maybe I looked too fierce, scared him,” He Xiu laughed. “At first, he didn’t react, but the moment I set him down, he bawled his eyes out. Even the dogs in nearby yards were barking.”
Qi Ji kept his head down, though his ears warmed again. He remembered crying, but not because He Xiu scared him—it was the memory of being sent away, told to sleep in a tree, and missing his parents. That night, he had impulsively climbed the wall, only to be caught between fear and height.
When He Xiu rescued him, Qi Ji’s reaction—bawling—was more from relief than fright. He never told He Xiu the real reason, and was glad he hadn’t, or else he’d be teased again tonight.
Fortunately, the ginger soup served immediately offered warmth and comfort. The delicately spiced broth glimmered in its porcelain cup. Soldiers in service had restrictions on drinking, so no alcohol tonight. The crab feast, held in winter, was paired with ginger soup to chase away the cold.
Jingwei refilled He Xiu’s cup. “This ginger soup is a special recipe, handmade. Captain He drinks it regularly, today is a chance to try more.”
He Xiu tilted his spoon, looking amused. “You know I drink it regularly. How do you know that?”
Jingwei shook his head. He then asked Qi Ji, “Do you remember?”
Qi Ji thought for a moment. “The train station… that big bowl of ginger tea.”
He Xiu clapped his hands and laughed. “Right. If not for that, I probably wouldn’t have made it back to the base.”
Pei Yusheng’s eyes darkened slightly. “You mean when Captain He captured that gang at the station?”
“It wasn’t barehanded, there were patrolling officers. But Qi Qi really helped a lot.” He Xiu smiled.
Pei Yusheng’s frown deepened. “He was only ten then… How could he get involved in something so dangerous?”
He Xiu corrected, “Nine.”
“But that day, it really was his merit,” He Xiu said. He recounted the market at the train station, the approaching gang, and how the child had unwittingly been at risk, saved only by He Xiu’s rapid response. It was a meticulously planned attack, and Qi Ji had been protected, hidden, even given an MP3 to drown out the noise while chaos unfolded.
The child had been just nine, yet brave and obedient beyond his years.
Now grown, the sweetness of that childlike trust—the one who clung, who had unreservedly given his reliance—was long encased in a hard shell. Pei Yusheng could only catch fleeting hints of it, and it drove him quietly mad.
When the meal ended, Jingwei went to pay. He Xiu took Qi Ji to the kitchen alley to talk privately, while Pei Yusheng lingered, ostensibly for tea.
Hidden in the shadows, Pei Yusheng watched He Xiu and Qi Ji in the moonlight, speaking seriously. He had investigated Qi Ji, but could only find information after the family troubles—little else. Until that afternoon, Pei Yusheng had no idea about He Xiu’s past exploits.
He silently observed their conversation. He didn’t act, didn’t interrupt, yet inside, jealousy churned—not of He Xiu, but of anyone who had reached Qi Ji first, offering shelter before Pei Yusheng even had the chance.
He pulled out his phone, lighting the screen. He had already been late once in Qi Ji’s life. He refused to wait a second time.
“Hello, Zhou Li,” he said flatly. “Patch him through.”
By the time Pei Yusheng emerged, the three were waiting in the lobby. He Xiu was chatting with Qi Ji about clothes, about how the oversized coat didn’t fit, and sparring techniques.
Pei Yusheng’s jaw tensed, veins twitching, as He Xiu’s hand rested on Qi Ji’s shoulder.
Yet when he approached, his expression remained composed, his words careful and accommodating.
“I know a martial arts club that’s quite good, officially managed, fully equipped. Tomorrow morning we’re free, and tonight you can loosen up a bit more,” Pei Yusheng said, offering a warm, disarming smile.
“Since you want to stretch your muscles, why don’t I join Captain He?”