The Wei family still lived in the hospital staff quarters, but in a larger new apartment. Song Yufang looked embarrassed when she saw the ingredients they brought. "Jiajia, I’m sorry, you shouldn’t have brought food when you’re our guest."
"Auntie Song, don’t be polite. When Wei Jing visits me, he brings piles of stuff too."
"Mom, come see, how do you want to prepare these?" Wei Jing called from the kitchen.
Song Yufang and Yang Jiabo entered the kitchen. They couldn’t possibly finish all the food Yang Jiabo had brought, so Song Yufang picked what to cook that night and stored the rest in the fridge.
While Song Yufang busied herself in the kitchen, Yang Jiabo offered to help but was shooed out. She told Wei Jing to entertain him properly. With nothing else to do, they played chess on the balcony. Yang Jiabo's reckless play starkly contrasted with Wei Jing's strategic approach - resulting in a one-sided slaughter.
Yang Jiabo quickly lost interest, shooting Wei Jing annoyed glances. Wei Jing didn’t go easy on him, seemingly enjoying the reaction. Yang Jiabo decided this was just sadism and refused to play anymore.
With nothing else to do, Wei Jing suggested other games such as military chess, Go, checkers, but Yang Jiabo rejected them all. He wasn’t a masochist.
Instead, Yang Jiabo grew interested in Wei Changdong’s books, so the two holed up in the study. Yang Jiabo read medical texts, while Wei Jing casually flipped through a biography.
"Jiajia, you seem really interested in pathology?" Wei Jing asked.
"Yeah. My dad’s health isn’t great, it doesn’t hurt to learn more." This was a habit from his past life. Plus, as a pharmacy, medical knowledge helped him serve customers better.
"Uncle Yang seems healthy, though. Why not take him for a full checkup?" Wei Jing was puzzled, why did Yang Jiabo always say Yang Jianjun was unwell?
"I take him for checkups every year. As people age, their bodies decline, it’s better to be cautious. You should pay attention to your parents’ health too. Some people seem strong but aren’t." Yang Jiabo spoke from experience.
"Got it." Wei Jing considered the advice. His parents, both hospital workers and had regular checkups, but he’d start paying closer attention to their reports.
Wei Changdong returned early that day. Seeing Yang Jiabo and Wei Jing quietly reading in the study, he smiled. Knowing Yang Jiabo’s interest in pathology, he gifted him a few rare medical books.
Soon, Wei Jing’s vacation ended, and he left Wujuan Farm for the capital. On his first day away, Yang Jiabo felt oddly unaccustomed to the absence of his ever-present companion.
At night, Yang Jiabo sprawled across his bed, stretching indulgently. He rolled from left to right, then right to left. The bed was finally his alone again.
But his joy was short-lived. Rolling to Wei Jing’s side, he caught the lingering scent. Wei Jing always stayed with him when visiting, and though Yang Jiabo complained, he secretly enjoyed it.
Wei Jing was a warm person. Yang Jiabo knew he did this because he’d learned about his illness, he wanted to support and comfort him. Being cared for felt nice.
Staring at the empty space, Yang Jiabo’s chest felt hollow. He chalked it up to habit and didn’t dwell on it.
Yang Jiabo liked solitude, but he didn’t mind Wei Jing. Though he’d initially struggled to adjust, he now felt the absence when Wei Jing left.
At such times, he reminded himself: everyone returns to their own life. Especially after starting a family, priorities shift. In the end, he’d still be alone.
Wei Jing was still young. In a few years, he’d find a girlfriend, marry, and build his own family. The thought left Yang Jiabo with an inexplicable ache.
After Wei Jing left, he called Yang Jiabo almost daily - chatting about work, daily life, or random anecdotes. With phones, distance felt shorter.
Wei Jing’s friends occasionally called too - holiday greetings, Xu Chen begging for food, Ren Boying asking for medicine, Chang Jin wanting flowers, Meng Fan just rambling. Meng Fan found Yang Jiabo easygoing and got along well with him.
But Meng Fan mostly talked about Ren Boying + endless praise followed by complaints about his overbearing nature. Yang Jiabo found it odd but couldn’t pinpoint why.
After their last visit, the group had all sent Yang Jiabo gifts. Even Qin Rong mailed dried fruits - a polite gesture that slightly improved his opinion of her.
Days passed steadily. Yang Jiabo and Yang Jianjun got driver’s licenses, and Yang Jiabo bought a sturdy, no-frills Volkswagen. One day, returning from the fields, he heard the landline ringing - a rarity since cell phones became common.
Puzzled, he answered. "Hello?"
"Is this Li Wen’s family?" A hoarse voice asked.
"Yes. Who’s speaking?" Yang Jiabo answered reflexively. His second uncle’s family had no phone, so his second cousin listed this number as a contact.
"I’m Li Wen’s regimental commander, Chen Junxian. Are his parents there?"
"Commander Chen, I’m Li Wen’s cousin. His family doesn’t have a phone, can I pass on a message?" Yang Jiabo’s heart raced with foreboding. In his experience, military leaders didn’t call soldiers’ families without reason.
"It’s like this, Li Wen had an accident during a rescue mission—" The voice grew heavier, hesitating.
"What happened to my cousin? Is he okay?" Yang Jiabo tensed. Then, he heard the man take a deep breath.
"Li Wen sacrificed himself to save civilians."
Yang Jiabo’s mind blanked. The rest of the words blurred.
"Hello? Can you hear me?"
"Yes… You said Li Wen sacrificed himself?" Yang Jiabo’s throat tightened as he sought confirmation.
"Yes, his ashes will be sent home in three days for burial."
"My cousin… really died?" Yang Jiabo asked again, clinging to hope.
"Comrade Li Wen did sacrifice himself. Please accept our condolences. He was a brave soldier, awarded first-class merit and posthumously honored as a martyr."
"What’s the use of honors when he’s gone?" Yang Jiabo drowned in guilt.
"I understand your grief, but nothing can bring him back," the voice softened.
"I know. We’ll prepare for his return," Yang Jiabo said brusquely before hanging up.
"I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, Second Cousin… It’s all my fault," Yang Jiabo slumped by the phone, repeating apologies like a mantra.
In his past life, Second Cousin had lived a full life. His parents, though biased, hadn’t neglected him. Second Cousin loved firearms, growing up when rural families still owned hunting rifles, he’d been an excellent shot, often hunting pheasants and rabbits.
Later, as gun control tightened, he’d switched to crafting bows. Yang Jiabo had tried learning but lacked talent.
Second Cousin adored guns, hunting, and fishing. As an adult, he’d even handcrafted a real gun as a collector’s item. Adults dismissed him as unserious, but kids adored him.
Feeling overlooked by his parents, he’d married into a suburban family. At first, life was good. He got a truck license and drove for his in-laws.
Then came the accident, his truck plunged off a cliff. Though severely injured, he survived. The emergency treatment cost a lot of money, then he had to rest for three years. Although he recovered, he walked with a limp.
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